#can't believe I got so worked up about this

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

At the Emperor’s Word -Viktor x Reader x Jayce

Summary: Sneaking around the academy after hours sounds like a good idea right up until you get caught; then, it becomes a great idea.

Pairing: Dom!Viktor x Sub!Reader x Switch! Jayce

Word Count: 6K

Warning: Explicit (PwP)

Tags: Threesome, Kissing, Handjob, Voyeurism, Obedience Kink, Praise Kink, Slight Cuckolding, Edging, Degradation, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Masturbation, Voice Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Lap Sex, Light Punishment Kink, Big Dick Viktor, Pet Names, Begging, Slight Choking, Vaginal Sex, Teasing, Rough Sex

Notes: A little fashionably late, but here is my absolutely filthy piece in celebration of Viktor’s birthday 🎉!! Viktor, my dearest, thank you for being my beloved husband and the devoted father of our many children. Glorious ovulation everyone ✌️💕.

You try to stifle a chuckle.

“Jayce, we can't-”

He's warm, so warm. You always feel yourself melt under his touch.

“C'mon, just a minute…” he insists.

You can't help but giggle breathlessly as he brings your hand into his pants, a large hand wrapping your fingers around his already half-hard cock. His body presses yours against the workbench, the firm wood digging into your lower back. His other hand slides against the fabric of your skirt, cushioning the strain, and not so subtly placing his palm over your ass.

He nuzzles his face against the top of your head, letting out a pleased groan when your fist starts moving. You suppress another laugh, trying your best to remain quiet, but you're positively enamoured of those sounds he makes when you touch him. Without even seeing his face, you know the content smile hasn't left his lips; he's so easy to please.

He's twitching under your grip, gripping your cheeks to the rhythm of the strokes. You quicken the pace, and he lets out a low moan that echoes through the empty lab.

This wing of the academy is always empty at this time of night, but there's something exciting about having to stay quiet. You can feel how close he's getting, the slight rutting of his hips a now familiar sign. His breath hitches, he's almost there, just a little more-

“I hope I am not interrupting anything.”

You yelp in surprise, pulling out your hand from Jayce's pants so fast your arm hits the wooden desk behind you. Jayce lets out a confused, frustrated shout at the sudden loss of friction as you wince in pain.

There, at the entrance of the lab, stands a looming figure, holding one of the large doors partially open. The light from the corridor obscures his face from the darkness of the lab; but there is no mistaking who this silhouette belongs to.

Viktor makes a single step forward, the metallic sound of his crutch against the tiled floor making you wince, as he lets the door close behind him. The room falls into obscurity again, the pale glow of the moon and the distant city lights only faintly shining through the windows.

“Ah, Viktor!” Jayce almost bellows in an overly cheery tone, walking backwards to put some distance between the two of you. “I- We were waiting for you! Got a bunch of interesting notes about today's experiments to show you !”

Viktor's face is blank, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in cold annoyance. He is neither amused nor does he seem the believe Jayce's jovial act. He nods curtly at the other man's pants, which are obviously, painfully unbuttoned. Jayce cringes as he quickly stumbles to reattach them, sliding the buttons in the wrong slits. You're frozen in place, eyes wide in fear, incapable of looking away from Viktor's frigid expression. But his focus is not on you; it's on Jayce.

“So,” he starts loudly, not bothering with whispers, “You barely spend any time working in the lab anymore. You have not even checked any of the upgrades I have suggested for the hexgates in the last month.” His voice is apathetic and dry, and his eyes narrow when he says the next words:

“And this is what you've been up to?”

Jayce opens his mouth like he's ready to argue, but the glare from his work partner seems to change his mind. He lowers his head silently, like a puppy being scolded. Viktor's golden pupils slide to you, and you now understand exactly why Jayce prefers looking at the floor.

“From Jayce I could expect,” Viktor remarks, the weight of his stare making you shrink, “but from you? I'll admit I'm disappointed.”

You bow your head in embarrassment. Your cheeks are burning, and you know there's no way to pretend like this is only a misunderstanding. You wish you could vanish on the spot.

Jayce, always the hero, comes to your defence quickly: “Viktor, it wasn't her idea-”

“I'm so sorry sir,” you interrupt him, stepping forward. You know Viktor well enough to recognize he's not a fan of poor excuses or avoiding accountability. “I swear this internship means the world to me. I know how many other students dream of working on hextech. It won't ever happen again.”

He seems pleased by your answer, although his expression stays perfectly stoic.

“That's good to hear,” he hums, walking closer to the both of you. He stops a few feet away, a ray of moonlight passing through a coloured beaker catching in his auburn hair. It illuminates him in an eerie, reddish glow, like he's not quite human, almost a phantom. “Well then, do not let me stop the both of you. Keep going, as you were.”

You have to assume he's joking, even if his tone sounds anything but, and you let out a confused, nervous giggle. But he isn't laughing, and neither is Jayce.

“Viktor…” there's uncertainty in the taller man's voice. It's not fear, or alarm, but he's apprehensive about something.

Viktor lets out a small sigh of lassitude, discontent evident. He looks at you again, with these amber eyes that make you feel like the world around you vanishes. Like there's nothing but him, and the words about to leave his lips.

“It would appear my partner is suddenly hard of hearing. Were my instructions unclear to you as well?”

You swallow. Your lips feel dry. Jayce is still unmoving next to you, still as a board, watching your interaction with his lab partner with an uneasy look.

“…No sir,” you mutter, just loudly enough for both men to hear. Viktor gives you the shadow of a smile.

“C'mon Viktor, you've humiliated her enough,” Jayce argues softly, raising his hand in a gesture of peace. But the other man has clearly decided Jayce hasn't gained his favour for the night, barely sparing him an icy glare.

“I do not believe I was talking to you,” he states matter-of-factly. The man of progress makes a strangled sound of protest, clearly insulted, but Viktor seems to have all but forgotten about him, now. It's back to only you and him, and the teasing smile dancing on his lips.

“He's always like this. Begging for attention,” Viktor tells you in a tone of confidence, like the topic of the conversation isn't standing less than a foot away from you with a baffled look on his face. “One has to wonder if he is compensating for something, but I figure you are in a good position to tell, right?”

You can’t prevent the corners of your mouth from lifting at the underhanded jab; Viktor seems emboldened by your reaction, voice louder when he continues:

“I certainly hope he's been more of a gentleman to you than this. Or does he only bend you over in our lab like an animal?”

The comment is enough to pull Jayce out of his stupor, and he raises his arms in protest.

“Hey, I'm not that-” he starts heatedly.

“Jayce.”

It's just his name; nothing else. You've said it to him hundreds of times. But there's something different in the way Viktor says it, the slow pronunciation of the syllables, the hardness of the accent, the deepness of the voice. Whatever it is, Jayce is compelled by it just as much as an order. He stops right in his tracks, his arms falling uselessly back to his side, like a dog listening to a command.

Viktor hums in approval, but his stare is no less punishing.

“I was not talking to you. When it is your turn to speak, you will know.”

Jayce's mouth is slightly agape, his eyes wide, an expression you can't quite read on his face; but he obeys. He stands there like a puppet, unmoving, drinking Viktor's words. You can't help but notice the still present strain in his badly buttoned pants.

The thinner man's gaze softens once more as it falls on you. He makes another step forward; close enough that you could reach him with your hand if you tried. He looks at you encouragingly: “Answer the question, sweet thing.”

The room feels like it's shrunk to barely a tenth of its size. Your breath has become shallow without you noticing. But isn't quite from fear anymore.

“T-twice in the lab before,” you stutter, the embarrassment of recounting your adventures to your direct supervisor burning your cheeks. The arousal in the air is undeniable now, and he's visibly aware of it. “And in the library. Once in my bedroom.”

Viktor hums pensively, studying your answer. It almost feels like you're passing some kind of final exam; the world's most sexually charged exam, undoubtedly.

“So he is aware of the basic notion of privacy behind closed doors, then,” Viktor concludes, the thin smirk now fully on display. “Who would have thought.”

He doesn't look away from your eyes when he finally speaks to the other man again.

“Jayce. How close are you?”

You glance at the taller engineer; he's started palming himself through his pants, his breathing irregular. His hair is dishevelled from your previous activities, and his cheeks are a bright crimson against his caramel skin. He's usually so dominating, on top of things, handling you like a chiffon doll up and down his dick with that cocky smile of his. You've never seen him like this; flustered, desperate, seeming so small despite all of his stature.

“Pretty close,” Jayce almost moans out, voice raspy for exertion. He's biting his own bottom lip so tightly it might start bleeding. “Just a little more.”

Viktor finally gives him a slight smile, though it's dripping with self-satisfaction. He's close enough to you that you can smell him now, that you could brush away the wayward strands of hair on his forehead. His face has been marked by the passage of time and countless hours of work, heavy bags under his eyes, cheeks almost gaudy. And yet, there is no sign of him ever losing control of this moment. Nothing could change the hypnotic power of his eyes, the controlling tone of his voice, or the subjugating effect of his slightly crooked smile.

“I suppose we should oblige,” he suggests lightly, his free hand brushing your cheek. His fingers are thin and lithe, cold against your skin, and you lean into the touch. He gives you a moment to pull away, if you want to; but you don't.

The kiss is slow at first, gentle, just the way little girls dream their prince charming might one day give them. He lets you decide when to pick up the speed, and you initiate after a few seconds by slipping your tongue in his mouth. It's messier, now, teeth clashing every now and then, saliva pooling where your lips meet. He tastes nothing like Jayce, his flavour of dark coffee and fresh mint; Viktor is sweet, like milk and honey, like a slice of lemon cake in the summer heat.

When he pulls away for air, you feel like time has started to move once again, as if you've just emerged from a dream. He's smirking confidently, still, but not entirely unfazed; his pale cheeks have turned pink, his breathing is slightly laboured, and there are traces of smudged saliva on the corners of his mouth.

A foreign whine makes you both turn towards Jayce, who is clearly on the edge of orgasm. He's abandoned any pretence of innocence, his cock fully pulled out of his pants as he rubs it furiously, eyes locked on the two of you.

“Stop,” Viktor only says.

Jayce groans in frantic frustration, slowing his rhythm but incapable of removing his hand. He's harder than you've ever seen him, his tip almost a painful red.

“No, no, c'mon V, don't do this. Please keep going,” he begs, looking at you with pitiful eyes, pleading silently. You want to touch him, to let him touch himself. But you know it's not your decision; it's Viktor's. And he's made his ruling, so you're not about to get on your research director's bad side again.

The head engineer offers a proud smile at your lack of answer to Jayce, the kind he usually reserves for reports submitted in advance or ingenious schematics. You recognize him more like this, strict, but never unappreciative of your efforts. He never forgets to slip a word of encouragement when you're stuck, never hesitates to reread your notes with you when the math isn't quite adding up. The cold anger seems to have fully passed, and now only the teasing, taunting satisfaction remains.

“I believe you may have forgotten that as per her contract, she is my assistant. Meaning she is under my direct command.”

He's looking at Jayce now, whose hand is still wrapped around his length, but unmoving. His cock is twitching in his grasp, desperate as the rest of him. His whole body shifts to the rhythm of his respiration, large shoulders slumped in defeat. Viktor doesn't turn to you when he asks you the following question, choosing instead to stare deeply into Jayce's citrine eyes.

“Is that not correct?”

You don't hesitate with your answer this time.

“Yes sir.”

His focus is still on the other man, but he strokes your cheek again with his left hand. He rests his weight comfortably on his crutch, like he doesn't have a single worry in the world in this moment.

“Good girl.”

You feel yourself tighten at that. That voice could tell you to find a way to harness the power of the goddamn stars before figuring out the hexcore, and you would comply.

“Jayce, could you bring the chair over here? The larger one.”

Viktor points with his chin towards a wooden chair with a flat backing, in a corner of the lab. Jayce looks back and forth between the chair and his partner, like he's unsure if he's joking or testing him. When no additional directions come from Viktor, he sighs in discomfort, clearly disgruntled, unceremoniously shoving himself back in his pants to go fetch the chair. The thinner man hums in appreciation when he brings it back and places it next to him.

“Thank you, Jayce.”

He sits, using his crutch for balance as he shifts slightly to find a comfortable position. His hand leaves the burgundy handgrip, instead settling on the metallic upper section. He looks like the king of a forgotten kingdom, resting on his wooden throne, sceptre in hand. You and Jayce, his obedient consorts, can't do anything but await his next command.

It comes in the form of a simple motion of his hand, beckoning you closer. You only stop when your legs bump against his, standing above him. His fingers caress the fabric of your skirt studyingly, like he's committing the feel to memory. They eventually catch on the waistband, tugging it questioningly. His golden eyes look up at you, the colour of the sunrise etched in his pupils. You nod earnestly in approval, and he lowers the skirt down until it reaches your knees, letting it fall to the floor. You're suddenly very thankful you dressed up this morning knowing you would see Jayce.

The design is simple, a line of flowery lace hugging your hips, and curving to the shape of your ass. It's the kind of thing Jayce loves; he'll even make you keep your panties on sometimes as he fucks you, just pushing the bottom of the fabric to the side to fit himself inside you. It's the lace he can’t resist, you think, the way it barely covers anything and rests against your skin like a present for him to unwrap.

It doesn’t seem to have the same effect on Viktor, but you can tell he’s still appreciative, cold hand sneaking under the lace to squeeze a cheek firmly.

“This is fucking torture,” Jayce groans in complaint, standing still just barely a few feet away. He's obviously aware he's not supposed to interfere with the two of you, or to touch himself for relief, but the glistening sweat on his forehead and down the prominent vein on his neck indicates how difficult this is for him.

“And you should know better than to have sex next to a table covered in explosive materials and one-of-a-kind prototypes,” Viktor retorts, sparing him a slightly displeased glance. “What if you had broken something irreplaceable?”

Jayce seems genuinely embarrassed by that; he may not show it as often these days with how busy he is, but you know he still cares about the academy's research and the state of hextech.

“I'm sorry Viktor. I wasn't thinking…”

“I am aware you were not thinking. And that is exactly the issue. You forget how much of our profession relies on thinking, not talking.”

It's crystal clear that's going to be the end of the conversation, for now. Viktor's fingers slide to your hip, following the shape of the panties until your inner thigh. A small tap with a single digit tells him everything he needs to know.

“Look at this,” he smiles, taunting but affectionate, “Already so wet just from a kiss. Or was it the sound of my voice that did it, I wonder.”

Both, it's both, and every single thing that has happened in this lab since he entered it. You tremble when his finger moves slowly against the damp fabric, not quite oversensitive, but a little on edge.

“I, um-” Jayce hesitantly speaks up from the side. “I fingered her a bit earlier. I… think she should be alright?”

This time, Viktor doesn't reprimand him for talking; he seems surprisingly pleased, eyes boring into yours for confirmation.

“Is that so?” he exhales softly.

You nod breathlessly. Why is it always so difficult to talk when he's studying you like this?

The teasing finger slips under the fabric, gently making its way into you. You let out an involuntary sound of eagerness as he verifies if you've been loosened up, analyzing you with the precision of a machine. He removes the digit with a crooked grin when he judges you've passed, and you whine at the loss; it was barely anything in the first place, but it soothed the feeling of total emptiness in your core.

“Color me impressed,” Viktor declares, half genuine, half mocking. “I do not think I have ever seen Jayce do his work in advance.”

Said man groans in defeated complaint:

“You're turning her against me.”

Viktor lets out a wry snort:

“You do that well enough on your own. You touched her without even making her cum?”

He pats your pussy comfortingly, and you almost sing to the feeling. Your panties get lowered swiftly, and you discard them with little decorum. Viktor's assertive expression has softened enough that you feel emboldened enough to try to join in the banter:

“Jayce thinks foreplay is watching him get undressed. He's not exactly an expert.”

Viktor laughs at that, a charming and genuine sound, and you feel yourself glow with pride. The topic of mockery doesn't seem as pleased, his cheeks red, his lips thin:

“See? Told you. You've already worked your fucking magic on her.”

Viktor starts unbuttoning his pants, the teasing smile still etched on his angular features. His fingers work nimbly, swiftly, with the precision only the best engineer in Runeterra could muster in such circumstances.

“It is not magic, Jayce. Simply talent and practice.”

He does quick work of lowering his pants, just enough to expose his underwear. The confirmation that he is indeed not as unbothered as he still may seem is poking through the fabric. Judging by the defined outline and the sizeable tent, you can instantly confirm a hypothesis you've had since the start of your internship: the Assistant to the Dean of the Academy is packing.

He's not unaware of it either; his golden eyes follow the movement of your own, playfully examining your reaction. It's different from Jayce's endearing ego and constant need for praise; Viktor knows his worth, but he revels in the admiration, the stares filled with awe and devotion.

If Jayce needs to feel worthy, then Viktor needs to feel wanted.

He finally frees his cock from the restrive fabric, letting the member bob slightly. He's not even fully hard, and he's huge, the length imposing, the bulbous tip a pleasant shade of pink. The skin is as pale as the rest of him, blueish veins marking it like porcelain; only a few well-trimmed auburn curls at the base remind you he's not sculpted from actual marble.

Jayce lets out a low, tentatively playful whistle as the other man’s slender fingers wrap around the shaft.

“Flattery will not get you far, Jayce,” Viktor comments absentmindedly. “You and I both know this is nothing you have not seen before.”

He moves his hand in an open, loose fist, evidently without any real intent to finish himself off; not with the way he's made you stand right above him, not with how he's looking right at you. You swallow with difficulty, licking your lips for moisture. The energy between the two of you is tangible, electric, as he keeps working himself tantalizingly slow.

“Darling. Sweet thing. Do you want this?”

You nod vigorously, the words stuck in your throat again.

“Tell me, then. Please. Tell me how much you want this,” he requests, and it's hard to tell whether that's an order or a plea with the way his voice lowers, just barely louder than a whisper.

You feel like you're high, your mind a jumbled mess of adrenaline and lust. There are no sentences that could possibly express how he's got you under his spell. How many times have you imagined a scene like this, in only a year of being his assistant? The stolen glances, the passing touches, you had no reason to believe they were anything more than figments of your lustful imagination. The very idea that he could be the one doubting your interest in him is laughable, and yet his gaze is probing you for a response, his lips parted with bated breath.

“I want this. I want you,” you swear to him, staring back so deeply into the amber irises there could not be a single question left. “Please, sir.”

You bring a hand to the crook of his neck; the coolness of the skin under your palm, the sharpness of his collarbone against your fingertips, the beating of his heart below your thumb. He has to know this is real.

Viktor smiles slightly, the little mole above his lips shifting alongside his dimples.

“I would ask you to be weary of my right leg, then. It is not quite as strong as it used to be, although that is not saying much.”

You've never seen the emotion that crosses Viktor's face in that moment, gone in under a second. It's so subtle one might have missed it; bitterness, regret, defeat. The tragedy of a man brilliant enough to change the whole world, but who wouldn't live long enough to see it. If Janna truly watches over the lost children of Zaun, then she is turning a blind eye to the brightest of them all.

You could say something, try and comfort him, but you choose not to. There's nothing that can be said to change things; there’s only the present, and there are only actions.

You sink down on him slowly, the both of you moaning in unison. You can't help the array of whines escaping your pinched lips. The heat from where your bodies meet is overwhelming, the stretch delightful and filling. He's not fully inside you and you're already wondering how much more you can take. It's dizzying, the pain making you grit your teeth, but you persist, fingers clenching on the back of the chair. When you've fully bottomed out, you let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Viktor soothingly pats your back, and you hang on to him for dear life, wrapping both arms around his back.

“Are you alright?” he whispers softly, worry evident in his voice. You want to answer, but you're quite certain if you open your mouth you'll only get confused gibberish out, because fuck, he's filling you so much it's hard to even think. You shift your grip to his shoulder blades, trying to anchor yourself, absentmindedly noticing the cool feeling of metal under his uniform. You trace the intricate patterns with your fingers to ground yourself, recognizing the shapes of bolts and screws, as you feel your breathing slowly even out

“I’m ok,” you eventually manage to exhale. “I just- need a second“

Viktor makes an understanding hum, his hand caressing the valley of your back like you're doing with his, his strokes mellow. He moves his head slightly to look at Jayce behind you, throwing him an irritated glare.

“So much for your preparations,” he points out with irony.

Without needing to see him, you know exactly the kind of disgruntled face Jayce is making: “She only needs three to fit me, you're just stupid big.”

“I can move,” you interrupt them, the pain now only a vague tingle; all that remains is the yearning for him.

You place both hands on the back of the chair to balance your weight, being careful of Viktor's weaker leg. You bring yourself up slowly, tantalizingly, before letting yourself fall back on his length. There's no other way to describe the broken moan you release than dirty.

“Eh,” Viktor remarks slyly, groaning when you start moving again. “S-she does not seem to think it’s stupid.”

You fuck yourself on him with abandon, fast, rough, not caring of how debauched you may look. If anything, Jayce seems very appreciative if his moans and curses are any indication.

“Fuck, baby,” he pants somewhere behind you, too far to feel his warmth, but close enough to hear he's pumping himself to the same rhythm you're riding Viktor. “You're doing such a good job taking him, princess…”

He's truly begging when he calls the other man's name again, delirious from the unending edging:

“V, please, make her turn to my side, I have to see her face.”

Viktor's hooded eyes bare into yours, his raspy pants echoing through your head as you thrust up and down his length.

“Do you think he is truly sorry, now?” he asks, the ever-teasing glimmer in his pupils shining despite the clear physical effort from his body.

You can't even remember what Jayce has to be sorry for; you whimper a positive ‘huh-uh’. Viktor nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck for a moment, gently bitting the sweaty skin in a surprising hint of possessiveness, but he does finally agree to free Jayce of his torture.

“I will trust your good judgment. You can come here, Jayce.”

You yelp in surprise when two strong but familiar hands suddenly grab you at the waist and turn you around, almost pulling you off Viktor's cock and into a messy kiss. The slight tickle of Jayce's stubble is pleasantly itchy, his tongue desperately searching for more of your taste. You moan wantonly against his mouth when you feel Viktor twitch inside you, but the man under you doesn't seem fully pleased: a thinner but firm hand brings you back against his chest, and he throws Jayce an irritated glare.

“I give you an inch and you take a mile. Typical,” the older man accuses him with a bitter tone, his accent more pronounced, rigid. “You do not get to touch, and you are only allowed to cum on her.”

His lips come to your ear in the ghost of a kiss, velvety smooth:

“Would that be agreeable to you, sweet thing?”

You just know you want to keep going, really; so you do exactly that as a reply.

This position is harder for movement, since without the support of the chair’s back, you would have to rely on putting pressure on Viktor's knees. Thankfully, with Jayce’s proximity, you can use his muscled chest for balance. He certainly doesn't mind being used like this if the expression he’s wearing is any sign: his entire face is crimson, his eyes heavy, laboured breaths escaping his abused lips. He's still following your pace, pumping up and down every time your ass meets Viktor's hip bones. It has to be painful by now, with the way he's been rubbing himself raw for so long without release, but he's either too entranced to care or getting off the burning friction

“So obedient,” Viktor praises you, his free hand moving to your lower stomach, long fingers digging gently into your skin; you wonder if he’s trying to feel himself move inside you. “We might still be able to make a top student out of you. What do you think, Jayce?”

Much like yourself, Jayce seems beyond the capacity for words. He's looking at you like he wants to devour you, like he wants to take you off Viktor's lap and fuck you right on the floor. But you both know he wouldn't do that without Viktor's approval, at the risk of getting on the other man’s bad side again.

Viktor's cock hits a peculiarly sensitive spot inside you and you cry out from the sudden shock, loling out your tongue involuntarily. Jayc makes a strangled sound at the sight, and it visibly takes all his self-control to not shove himself into the warmth of your throat.

“For once, I cannot get you to talk when I actually want you to,” Viktor tsks in disapproval, but it's clear he's not frustrated; rather, he seems to enjoy the trance-like silence Jayce has been reduced to.

“F-fuck, I think this is the hottest thing I've ever seen,” the younger man sputters, delirious, his fist moving with a frenzied pace. “I can see your cock in and out of her every time she bounces like that. Her tits look so good…”

You recognize that slight pitch in his voice, the rumbling in his throat; he's close again.

“What else?” Viktor hums, not letting him have a moment of respite. You can hear ragged gasps next to your ear, parts of heaved curses indicating he too is nearing his end, but he's still firmly insistent on being the one in control of it all.

Jayce whines in struggle, but it's hard to hear with how loud the sound of your own moans echo in the room. You've been using Viktor's cock to hit that one spot over and over, chasing your high without restraint, the familiar clenching of your walls maddening.

“She looks all fucked out. Like she -fuck- like she's so close to cumming around you…”

The other man seems pleased by that if the way you feel him twitch inside you is evidence. “Good observations,” he replies in playful irony. “Perhaps there is still a scientist in there.”

The hand on your stomach leaves its comfortable position to wrap around your neck, the pressure light, just barely restricting airflow.

“Sweet thing,” he calls out to you once more. “You can pick up the pace a little. I want you to never look away from Mr Talis's eyes.”

It's a hard request to fulfill considering how badly you want to squint your eyes shut in the agonizing pleasure; but you try your very best, unshed tears of exhaustion starting to pool and blurying your vision.

The sight of you so desperately trying to obey Viktor's order to focus on nothing but him is what finally undoes Jayce, who lets out one final loud curse:

“Shit-!”

He cums all over your academy blouse with a shout, little droplets reaching as high as your chin. It barely takes three more thrusts against Viktor for you to join him, crying tears of relief as an intense wave of bliss rocks your entire body. With your limbs reduced to nothing but putty, your head falls forward in exhaustion, thankfully stopped by Jayce's strong torso; the fabric of his dress shirt feels like satin against your face, burying your sobs.

Viktor takes a moment longer to reach his peak, fucking into your exhausted body with concentration, thick eyebrows furrowed. It's too much, too rough, and you throw your head back to whine against his neck pitifully. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath before he finally unloads into you with a long groan.

“Shh, good girl,” he compliments you soothingly as his warmth settles into your core, kissing your neck leisurely in praise. “You have done so well.”

He bends your head back slightly more to catch your mouth in an open-mouth kiss, slow and tired, sloppy from your mutual exhaustion. Jayce groans, his hand somehow still on his softened cock, pumping it lazily; his stamina is utterly unbelievable.

“Okay, actually, this might be the hottest thing I've ever seen,” he comments hoarsely, absorbing the way your tongue dances with Viktor's with every inch of his capacities.

Viktor concludes the wet kiss with a small peck on your lips, smiling as your head falls back on his shoulder in fatigue, your eyes shut close.

“Because you managed to get yourself all over her?” he throws back at Jayce, as calm and confident as if he hadn't just made you go through the most intense orgasm of your life. “Your ego will never cease to impress me.”

The stars behind your eyelids are still spinning; you weakly try to move an arm, finding it almost completely unresponsive.

“Sir?” you ask, and you almost don't recognize your voice with how rough and broken it resonates in the empty lab.

“I think we have reached the point where you are allowed to call me by my name in private,” Viktor amusedly hums close to you.

“Viktor, I…”

You want to open your eyes, to look into his golden eyes again and see the way he looks right after sex, but they're sealed shut from how worn out you are. “…I don't think I can move right away.”

That earns you a content chuckle from one man and a disbelieving laugh from the other.

“Jayce,” Viktor asks, now with a tone of request rather than command, “be a gentleman for once and carry her to her bedroom. The poor thing is exhausted.”

Jayce snorts, for once tonight the one hitting back with irony:

“And whose fault is that?”

Viktor’s fingers, still loosely wrapped around your throat as lightly as feathers, slide down to massage the tender muscles at the base of your nape. You moan brokenly into the touch. You couldn't move even if you wanted to.

“Undeniably yours. I am not the one sneaking around in the academy for nefarious purposes,” Viktor retorts playfully, tiredness noticeable but skillfully hidden in his voice. “But if you were to have a bad idea like this once more… I believe I can offer you my services as her supervisor. For both your sakes.”

[warmilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 4- Can't hurt the Signal

*another huge timeskip

______________________________

After a few moments your shock dies down and you've accepted you've become a public figure

Then Duke walks in...

Duke walks in-

Duke.

Holy shit Duke is here!

He looks at you confused, of course they didn't introduce you "Hey.. you uhmm" he says awkwardly

"Oh I'm Bruce's other biological kid, but I'm a civilian, nice to meet you, so you're signal right?" You smile

"How...?"

"a new vigilante appears, Bruce gets another kid, come on, it's not rocket science"

"Oh! Good morning then! I'm actually pretty new to this thing and I'm a meta!" He smiles and sits right in front of you

Wow he's shining....

Mission #1359: Hurt Duke's feelings

A neglected reader is brash, she is reluctant to interact with her family members, she is jealous when Duke, someone who hasn't been in the family that long is accepted and loved, but you aren't

Time: till the end of breakfast

Penalty: Electrocution

"(Name)! This is you right!? Oh gosh, I've been hearing about you before Bruce got me!" He looks at the newspaper "see... Im- I'm an orphan-"

"Aren't half of you are?" You say

"y-yeah, okay, I actually work at daytime-"

"I know I saw you, so... How'd you end up here?"

"Like I said... I was an orphan, I actually had a pretty normal childhood, just uhm- can we not talk about this?" His eyes wince, you know that look, the pain is still raw

You can't press in, you know how he got here, you know how he lost his parents, and you can't

When you lost your Mom, you just wanted to forget about it, sure it was unhealthy but it was easier, you were lucky that the Waynes didn't care whether you were okay mentally and left you alone, they care about Duke and you can't make Duke face this

Fuck the penalty

"it was nice to meet you Duke" you go to your bedroom

"system?"

Yes?

"I can't do it- just give it to me"

Really? Very well

This was fine, it's not like it'll kill you, what's a second time being electrocuted? Right?

______________________________

"oh god!? Miss (Name), what happened you look like you got electrocuted!" Alfred grabs a hair brush and fixes your hair

"(Name)! Let's go! We'll be late for school!" Duke waves his hands, inside the car with Damian, Tim and Cass with Jason driving....

Fuck no.

You look away and continue walking, but a hand grabs the back of your jacket and pushes you inside the car "quit acting up" Dick smiled, but you can see annoyance in those eyes

"I'm not acting up!? When have I taken the car?!" You glare and pull away from him "Just get in." He grips your arm alarmingly tight and you're sure it's going to bruise

Duke tilts his head, are you two fighting? You and Dick feel his gaze and both of you reluctantly smile at each other

"You fucking bitch what the fuck are you doing?" You ask, Jason hears and turns around "You kiss your mother with that mouth?", you raise your brow "At least my mother loved me enough to kiss me"

"Just start the car Jay, don't mind the anchor" Damian glares

Well the facade of a happy family you and Dick tried to put is long gone, you hope that when they explain to Duke later they won't twist their words

Speaking of Duke, He looks confused, "What's wrong?, Did something happen?"

Mission 1360: BE SILENT

I can't believe I have to turn this into a mission, but a neglected reader should be silent, scared and obedient towards the family, I have been accepting of your crass attitude since it doesn't affect the missions, but what it does affect is the story, DO NOT TRY TO DEFEND YOURSELF

Time: the car ride

Penalty: Electrocution

"Maybe because the Princess here should just stop running her mouth, we're taking her in, but all she gave back is nothing. She's a bitch who thinks that all of us here are nothing but mental patients that belong in Arkham", Jason's grip on the wheels tighten

Fuck the mission, you're on a failing streak and you'd like to keep it

"And by the way you snap bones like they're sticks, say you hate criminals but befriend a drug addict, you do belong in Arkham" you feel bad about talking about Roy that way, Jason's probably not even sure how you knew about Roy

You feel the car start to run faster, he's not actually going to crash a car with the people he cares about right? You look around and see out of everyone in this car

If it does crash.

You're the only one who can't save yourself.

"Jason stop!" You hear Duke shout, and the car stops immediately, it would send you out of your seat if not for your seatbelt

"This is why I didn't wanna ride the car" you glare at them, you hide your hands inside the pockets of your jacket so they wouldn't see them shaking

You see that you're a block away from school and you take the chance to get the hell out of the car, "Wait! (Name)!" Duke yells, he turns to his family "What's going on!?"

______________________________

You didn't go to school yet.

You run into an empty alley, why?

Mission failed

That's why.

It's unhealthy that you are slowly starting to get used to the Electrocution

You pant and hold your heart and you sit down on the dirty concrete floor, your head is buzzing and your sweaty, your hands are shaking and you can see small zaps of electricity, you bit into your arm to muffle your screams

What the fuck are you doing, are you seriously choosing Electrocution over being insulted!?

"Didn't you want the hate meter to go up? Oh well it's UP!" You say

Not Duke's, he pities you

"You didn't say Duke was a part of this?, I thought it was only those guys!?"

That's why you needed to insult him earlier! So when you get insulted and called a bitch in the car, he'd understand you needed to be hated! But because you didn't, he now feels sorry for you and thinks the family is against you!

"The family is against me! Hello?? That's the main point of the story!"

Just- do you want the special reward or not?

"I don't even know what the special reward is!"

I can't tell you! Plus... Something's going to happen, one that can either make the hate meter go up or down, not to mention... There's a possibility the neglected reader can gain love, you can't let that happen, you'll lose the reward

"Whatever, their hatred meter is almost 100 anyway..."

But Duke can change that. You have to make him hate you as well, got it?

"Got it. Just promise me this 'special reward' is worth all of this"

It's worth more than all of this

You forgot about the newspaper.

"(Name)! You're a Wayne!??" One of your classmates came up to you

"Haha... Yeah" you laugh awkwardly

Another classmate goes near you "Why don't you use Bruce's surname?"

"Because I wanted to preserve my mom's memory" you smile

"why have I never seen you in one of the gala's

"I don't like parties" that's a lie you love them, you just don't get invited

The whole day was just you answering questions, you're partly grateful because the crowd prevented Duke to get you alone and talk about the shit show that happened in the car

When you thought it was over... You get called to the principal's office

"Miss (Name), would you like to be a student ambassador?"

(in my school, a student ambassador are students who promote the school, aka the kids you see in posters every time you see a "back to school" bill board)

"Why..?" You ask him

"Well... You are a charitable student, you're social and have good morals! You're already a model student" he says

You smile at him "Sir... I don't do this to be recognized, thank you for your offer but I'm afraid I'd have to decline"

You declined because when Dick was at school he was an ambassador, and right now so is Tim

You don't understand why he still goes to school, that guy is already the CEO

______________________________

Bruce looks at the newspaper

"helping others for years without her family knowing" he repeats

How did he not see this? Why didn't he notice that you've been helping Gotham out of your own pocket? The visits to the orphanage, the tutoring of children in poor neighborhoods

He feels guilty because he thought you were some spoiled kid who asked for too much

Now he's dreading you may have been right, the conversation two years ago...

"you're doing your best to make your already family comfortable by pretending I'm not here"

Oh god... Has he attended anything regarding you? Did he hold birthday galas for you?

He didn't

And by the way things are looking

You're perfectly fine without them.

He needs to change that

______________________________

Bruce feels like a failure.

Over the past three years he has failed to make any sort of connection with you, you seemed to be avoiding him?

And every time he does get ahold of you, you piss him off, he has to remind himself every time that he failed you as a father and he shouldn't give up on you

He tried calling you to his office and talking it out with you, he apologized for the way he treated you and that he regrets his actions but all he got was

"Do you think apologizing can make up for the years of neglect? And your children hate me, you're not going to risk them hating you as well by being nice to me, and you started this 'ignoring me' me thing, don't quit now" then you left his office

He tried throwing you a birthday party for your 13th, but you were nowhere to be found, at first he was angry, he placed so much effort into the gala only for you to not show up, you showed up late in the night and said you were out swimming with your friends, Bruce tried to yell at you, saying that you should've told him before going out and about somewhere

Then you said "How was I supposed to know you were going to celebrate my birthday? You never celebrated it before?"

Then you refused to spend your 15th with the family, specially after the incident at your 14th birthday party

Where Damian hid a small non-harming explosive in the cake and when you blew the candles out it exploded

He was going to scold Damian for that, but Barbara chimed in that this is the first time Damian played a prank and acted like a kid, was Bruce really going to punish him for having fun?

Bruce knew you had a violin concert, you invited no one but Alfred and Duke, at least you and Duke are getting along

He mourned the fact of not being able to attend your previous concerts, he bought tickets for him and the family

They were going to watch you

You were so talented... And too independent, too much of his liking, you were also kind and smart and people liked you

And he likes you too as well, you're his baby, his daughter

And he's going to do whatever to make you apart of this family

______________________________

Bruce: -100%

"Why the fuck does his hatred meter keep on going down????? What the fuck is happening?!?"

This is a problem

"Oh you think!?" You cry at the system

______________________________

Bruce: my daughter I'm sorry, let's be a family

Reader: WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO HIS HATRED METER

______________________________

@plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist

[ariestrxsh]

shy!sub!chris x babysitter!reader

˚₊ · »-♡→ content warning: smut, mommy kink, age gap (Chris is 22 & reader is 28), praise, masturbation, handjob, hair pulling, innocence corruption

˚₊ · »-♡→ summary: chris runs into his old childhood babysitter, and their innocent reunion takes a turn when the two can't deny the sexual tension between them.

This fic was inspired/requested by this ask. 🤍

If the age gap or the fact that the reader used to babysit Chris bothers you, then don't read this fic ! The ones that get it, get it, and the ones that don't, dont.

Baby Sitter (part one)

"No way! Chris Sturniolo?" Your familiar voice broke Chris' attention away from his phone, his blue eyes first scanning over your red heels, your black tights, and then the grey dress suit you were wearing paired with a long, open black peacoat.

He was leaned up against the side of an old brick building with one hand in his hoodie pocket to keep it warm, waiting for the bus home. "Oh, my god! Hi!" He exclaimed, his face lighting up when he recognized you.

"You're so big!" You declared, pulling him into a hug and ruffling his messy, brown hair. The warmth of his embrace brought you some solace from the nearly freezing temperature of this brisk, winter afternoon.

Chris caught a hint of the floral perfume you'd been wearing for the past decade, and the memories of when you were both kids came flooding back to him.

"You must've been this tall the last time I saw you," you told him, holding your hand out and gesturing about three feet from the ground.

"Oh, come on. I haven't been that short since I was eight years old. You babysat me up until I was almost twelve," Chris chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes.

You glanced him over one more time. Chris had always been a cute kid, but now he was a handsome man. You scanned over his slightly muscular build, his sharp jawline, and the bit of stubble he had coming in on his face from not shaving the past few days.

"Can't believe that was ten years ago. You look good," you complimented him. "So do you," he replied, his voice textured with a hint of lust as his gaze danced over your breasts and your long legs.

"You taking the bus?" You asked him, motioning towards the bus schedule. "Yeah, but my bus won't be here for another half hour," he shrugged, looking around at the traffic building up. "Maybe longer," he faintly added.

"I could take you home," you warmly smiled at him, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" He wondered, surprised by your kind gesture.

"Of course. Still live in the same house? I think I still remember how to get there," you responded, crossing one lapel of your coat over the other, folding your arms, and raising your shoulders to your ears to fend off the cold.

"No, actually. I moved into my own apartment last year. It's probably pretty far out of the way if I'm being honest. I don't want to waste your time," Chris nervously chewed on his lip, staring down at his black converse.

"Don't be silly, Chris. I don't have anywhere to be," you reached out and gently squeezed his arm, reassuring him that your offer was genuine. "My car's over in that parking garage over there," you motioned towards the large structure across the street.

"Okay, sure. Thank you," Chris said, pulling his hood over his head as the chilly wind started to pick up. You stuffed your hands into your coat pockets, and the two of you started slowly meandering over in that direction, your heels click-clacking against the pavement, and Chris' sneakers pitter-pattering next to you.

"So, you're all grown up now. Got your own place, got your own job.." you smiled over at him. "Yeah, I do. I have my own car, too, but it's in the shop right now," he sighed.

"Is it gonna be expensive to fix?" You wondered aloud. "A little, but on the bright side, I'm saving money on gas walking and taking the bus to work," Chris shrugged, the corner of his lip turning up in a weak smile.

"What are you doing for work?" You asked, glancing both ways before crossing the street. "Landscaping, construction, some basic handy-man work," he answered you.

"Is that how you got these?" You flirtatiously squeezed his bicep. He scoffed and laughed, his heartbeat quickening as your touch lingered.

"What do you do for work?" He asked, flipping the question around on you and taking the attention off of himself. "See that little window right there? I work at that law firm," you told him, pointing up at the tall building a couple blocks away.

"No way! You're a lawyer?" He assumed, lifting his eyebrows. "No, just a paralegal," you responded, laughing. Chris didn't really understand the difference.

He thought about making a comment about you being dressed way too hot to be a lawyer, but he bit his tongue, worried that it might come out wrong.

"Hey, you're not in a rush to get home, are you?" You stopped, turning to him. "No. No hurry," Chris replied, shrugging his shoulders and secretly hoping to spend more time with you.

"There's a coffee shop about a block away. How about we go grab a drink and get out of the cold for a bit?" You suggested, the chill of the air biting at the tip of your nose. "That sounds nice," Chris nodded, following your lead.

"So, how's your mom doing?" You wondered, peering over at Chris. "She's doing well. She misses you. You were her favorite babysitter, you know. She'd always call you first when she needed someone to watch me," Chris admitted.

"Good. That means you didn't tell her I let you watch scary movies with me and stay up way past your bedtime," you joked. "Nope. Still haven't told her to this day," Chris responded, winking in your direction.

"Good boy," you said, ruffling his hair again. Blood rushed to his cheeks, and his face turned a bit red with embarrassment.

You didn't mean for that moment to create so much sexual tension between the two of you, but your eyes met for just a second, both of you conveying a look of desire. You both glanced away just as quickly, letting the moment pass.

You cleared your throat before speaking again. "So your mom. She still working at the hospital?" You wondered, rubbing your hands together to keep them warm before nestling them back into your big coat pockets. "Yeah, still working long hours," he replied.

You lead Chris down an alley tucked between two tall buildings where you were temporarily safe from the windchill. Chris ran his fingertips along the cold brick as he turned the corner, the rough surface leaving him with both a strange and satisfying sensation.

A comfortable silence lingered between you as you meandered down the path, not wanting to fill each other in too quickly on your lives to keep the visit from being cut short.

The sounds of the city moved around you, traffic bustling and people clamoring about. The city was like that, everyone always onto the next thing. It seemed like you and Chris were the only ones dragging out your steps, trying to pass the time instead of racing it.

You turned another corner, leading Chris back out into the strong winds as you pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear in an attempt to keep it from blowing wildy in your face.

Straight ahead tucked between an antique shop and a record store was the coffeehouse you frequented. You and Chris, once again, glanced both ways before crossing the street.

Despite the frigid air, Chris' palms had grown sweaty from his nervous energy. He felt like a little kid again in the presence of his pretty babysitter, who he'd always had a raging crush on, hoping you thought he was cool, or at the very least, not uncool.

He subtly wiped the perspiration off on the front of his jeans before reaching for the door with a shaky hand, holding it for you, and nodding for you to go through it.

The two of you shuffled into the warm, cozy lobby of the café, so warm that the first thing you did was remove your coat and sling it over your arm, prompting Chris' eyes to drop to the bit of exposed cleavage that peeked out over your neckline.

The ambience was just right, smooth jazz playing softly in the background, warm overhead lighting, and the hiss of milk being steamed to perfection. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and sweet flavors wafted through the welcoming atmosphere.

Chris got a peppermint mocha, and you ordered a cortado, which Chris insisted on paying for, and you didn't put up a fight.

He'd always been sweet like that, even when you two were just kids. He was always holding doors open for you and waiting to eat his dinner until you'd taken your place at the table.

He was always considerate and gentleman-like, a product of his personality and his mother's good morals.

The two of you found a place to sit near the back next to a big window, and while the two of you were reminiscing on old memories, the server brought the two of you your drinks.

You thanked him, but when Chris' eyes landed on your coffee, his smile fell. "Hey, want me to go bring this back? I think they brought you the wrong thing," Chris offered.

"No, this is what I ordered!" You assured him. He stared inquisitively at your measly 4 oz drink, wondering what the appeal was.

"It's really good, Chris. I promise," you responded, reading his expression. "I'd ask for a taste, but I'd finish it off in one sip," he joked. You rolled your eyes, but you laughed along.

"So, are you still with Kyle?" He wondered aloud, staring down at your hands that were cupping your drink, searching for a wedding band or engagement ring.

"No," you told him, your hands retreating and falling into your lap. "He wasted my time, really. We were together for nine years and in the midst of our three-year-long engagement, he cheated on me," you scoffed.

"I knew I never liked that guy," Chris muttered, clenching his jaw. "I know you didn't. You'd always try to sit between us on the couch and interrupt us right when we were about to kiss," you recalled, the corner of your lip morphing into a faint smile.

It was hard for you to deny the little crush Chris had on you when he was a young boy, but sitting in front of him now in this coffee shop, admiring the way his features had aged like fine wine, you wondered if the tables had turned.

Chris bit back a smirk as he recalled a few times that he had "woken up" from a nightmare, pulling your attention away with your shitty boyfriend at the time so that you'd have to come to his rescue and comfort him. Kyle had even accused him of faking before.

"Kid always has a bad dream every time we're about to do it," he'd snarked at you once, pulling you back onto his lap, which caused a verbal disagreement to break out between the two of you.

"Kyle! You asshole! He's eleven! He's not thinking like that," You had whisper-yelled in response, pushing him away and following Chris to his bedroom to lull him back to sleep.

Chris had overheard the conversation from down the hall, but even now, over ten years later, he couldn't admit to you that most of the time, he was faking his nightmares.

No one had had the talk with Chris at this point, but he had a vague idea of what it meant when Kyle would stay the night, and he felt an incredible amount of jealousy when he would.

"How about you, Chris? You dating anyone? I bet the girls can't stay away from you," You flattered him, putting your drink to your lips and taking a sip.

He blushed and shook his head after drinking from his own coffee. "I've actually never had a serious girlfriend. Can't seem to get past the talking stage with girls," Chris nervously said, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, well, there's nothing wrong with that, Chris," you reassured him, pitifully running your thumb across the back of his hand. You meant for the gesture to be reassuring, but Chris found it condescending. He jerked his hand back.

"You think I'm a loser, don't you?" Chris huffed, peering out of the café window. "Chris. Look at me. Of course, I don't think that," you responded, studying his facial expressions.

"Of course, you do think that. I'm a twenty-two-year-old who's never.." Chris began to say, but he cut himself off, fearing he'd already said too much.

"Oh! You've never..?" You asked, your voice started to trail off. He didn't answer you, but his face turned a deep red.

"Chris, there's nothing wrong with that. I just assumed.. I just thought.. I'm just surprised. That's all," you managed to get out, foolishly stumbling over your words and wondering how someone you'd known for so long and who was so much younger than you was making you as nervous as you were.

"Why are you surprised?" He asked, your assumption taking him aback. "You're just so hot," you accidentally blurted out, astounding yourself with how forward your comment was.

"You think so?" He asked, his eyebrows flicking up in shock. He blushed a little harder, but his previously embarrassed expression morphed into something softer.

"I mean, you're conventionally attractive. You're a total gentleman. You just need a little confidence, and you'd be unstoppable," you stroked his ego, taking a sip of your coffee.

"You think I'm hot?" He wondered, still stuck on your compliment, his lips curling into a flattered smile. "Don't make me say it again," you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

Chris narrowed his gaze at you while he took a sip of his peppermint mocha. "What else do you think of me?" He inquired, locking eyes with you.

"I think any woman would be lucky to be your first," you replied, reaching out and stroking the back of his hand again. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he relished in the soothing feeling of your thumb brushing against his knuckles.

"Any woman? Even you?" He suggested, surprising himself with the brief moment of confidence he found himself swept up in. The silence that followed his question was heavy, and the tension between the two of you was thick.

You wet your lips, studying his handsome facial features, but before you could answer, one of the coffee shop employees floated over to your table. They offered to take your empty cortado glass out of the way to which you pulled back your hand, nodded, and thanked them.

"I should take you home," you declared, softly smiling in Chris' direction. "Okay," Chris affirmed, taking his peppermint mocha to-go.

The two of you left the coffeeshop, putting back on all your layers before setting back out into the winter weather.

You made your way out the door, the whistling wind whirring past you as you wandered back to your car. You and Chris walked silently through the city streets and through the cobblestone alleys between the buildings that towered over Boston.

Your mind churned, worrying that you'd made the reunion awkward and quietly kicking yourself for your word choice in the coffeehouse.

"Here we are," you announced once the two you had reached the parking garage. You reached into your purse, retrieved your keys, and unlocked your car.

Chris turned to you with wide eyes, and his jaw dropped when he realized the black Mercedes was yours.

"Damn. When did you get rich?" He questioned you, opening the passenger side door and running his fingers along the dark red interior.

"I wouldn't say I'm rich," you scoffed, humbly shrugging before opening the driver's side door.

"I should've had you pay for my coffee," the blue-eyed boy joked, admiring the sleek look of your car and setting his drink in your cup holder. "Next time I will," you smiled at him as your engine roared to life.

You turned on your heater, and each of you shed a layer as the car started to warm up. "Alright, Chris. What's the address to your apartment complex?"

He read it off to you while you put it in your GPS. You carefully backed out of your parking spot and navigated your way onto the main road towards his place.

"So, I mean, it's been eleven years. What else has been going on in your life besides dumping Kyle and getting rich?" Chris playfully inquired.

"A lot, actually. After high school, I took a year off. Then when I went back to school and got my bachelor's degree in law. I worked at a few places as a secretary before finally finding this job about three years ago shortly after Kyle and I broke it off, and I've been making good money ever since," you told him.

"I even bought my first house last year by myself," you added, trying not to sound too cocky but unable to hide how proud you were.

"That's amazing. I love a strong, independent woman," Chris smirked, sipping on his coffee, his gaze lingering on you as you focused on the road ahead.

"How about you, Chris? What have you been up to since I last saw you?" You returned the question.

You spent the rest of the car ride catching up with Chris, getting to know him all over again. It was surprising and comforting how many things about him hadn't changed - his sweet and shy demeanor, his mannerisms, and his laugh.

The parts of him that did change, you liked - his matured features and his deep, sexy voice.

While the two of you were chatting and approaching an intersection, someone ran a red light, causing you to slam down on the brake pedal. Chris spilled his drink, sending coffee dripping down the front of his white t-shirt.

"Shit," he muttered. "Are you okay?" You asked, your heart racing while you tried to catch your breath. You pulled off onto the shoulder of the road to collect yourself.

"I'm fine. I just feel like an idiot for spilling in your car," Chris sighed, unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling his shirt off over his head.

"It's not your fault, Chris. It doesn't.. it doesn't even look like you got it anywhere besides.." You managed to get out as you motioned towards his shirt that was no longer on his body.

Your eyes dropped to his chest, his arms, and to his stomach. He caught you staring and smirked in your direction. You immediately pulled your eyes off him and placed them back onto the road in front of you, clearing your throat.

"Sorry about that," you said, half-apologizing for making him spill and half-apologizing for ogling him like a creep. "Don't be sorry," he paused. "About anything."

His eyes lingered on you, biting down on his bottom lip. He wondered if you wanted him as badly as he wanted you.

You turned down a few unfamiliar streets, following the GPS directions into the complex where Chris lived.

"Take this road all the way down, and you can park at any of those unmarked spaces on the left," he instructed you. You pulled into a spot and threw the gear shifter into park.

"Well, here we are!" You exclaimed, glancing over at Chris, your eyes dancing over his stature one more time. "Thank you so much for the ride. It really means a lot. So much better than taking the bus," Chris remarked, smiling at you.

"Hey, if you want, I can wash your shirt for you. I'm pretty good at getting stains out," you suggested, extending your hand and offering to take his shirt.

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you," Chris responded, handing it off to you and getting ready to get out of the car.

"Hey, wait! Before you go, let's exchange numbers. You know, that way I can return this once it's washed," you proposed. Chris agreed, trying not to sound too eager and reaching for his phone that was tucked into his pocket.

You swapped contact information with him, told him to call anytime, and ruffled his hair again.

"Hey. Do you wanna come inside? I can give you a tour," Chris offered, not wanting to say goodbye to you just yet.

"Sure," you nodded, cutting the engine and following Chris up the stairs to his place.

You couldn't keep your eyes off the muscles in his back. He placed his key into the lock, turning it until he heard a faint click. He pushed open the door and motioned for you to enter first.

It was a typical twenty-something-year-old man's apartment - clothes strewn on the floor, a few dishes stacked in the sink, and a couch in the living room pointed at a TV.

He had stacks of video games, naughty magazines, and a few empty soda cans scattered on his coffee table. His place was a little unorganized, but it wasn't filthy.

"Sorry about the mess," Chris apologized, scurrying over to the dirty magazines and stuffing them under his sofa cushion when he thought you weren't paying attention.

"Uh, I'll show you my room," he mumbled, leading the way to his bedroom door. His sheets were thrown lazily onto his twin-sized bed, and he didn't have much else in his room besides a wooden nightstand.

"If you need to use the bathroom, it's right there," Chris motioned towards the door across the hall. You followed him back out towards the front door.

"And the kitchen," he motioned towards the small room with the fridge in it. "I know it's not much," Chris shrugged.

"But it's your first place by yourself, and that's a big deal. I'm really proud of you!" You warmly smiled, pulling him into another hug.

Your fingerstips glided across his shirtless back, and blood immediately rushed to his dick.

"Thanks! It's relatively cheap, too," Chris remarked, pulling away and making over towards the couch in the living room.

He plopped down onto the furniture and pulled a throw pillow onto his lap, hoping he was being discrete. He wasn't.

You took a seat on his couch beside him, shifting uncomfortably about on his lumpy cushion. You decided to mess with him a bit.

"C'mon, don't look at those," he nervously whined as you reached under the sofa cushion, retrieving a few dirty magazines. Your lips curled into a devious smile as you flipped through one.

"You might be a virgin, but you're not that innocent, are you?" You cooed.

He buried his face in his hands while you sifted through the images of naked girls, half-expecting you to start making fun of him or tell him how disgusting he was for getting off to such content.

When you didn't, he peeked back up at you. You looked more intrigued than anything. You crossed your legs and squeezed them together as you imagined him rubbing one out while his dreamy, blue eyes struggled to focus on the page.

"Why don't you show me what you do with them?" You cooed. "Wh-what do you mean?" He timidly asked.

"Don't play dumb, pretty boy," you leaned in, whispering into his ear, gently planting a kiss on the side of his neck. "You know exactly what I mean. Show me."

His eyes fluttered closed, and his jaw fell open as he processed your request. "Uh huh," he nodded, his heart beating in his ears as his shaky, sweaty hand reached for the button on his pants.

"Say, yes, mommy," you sensually whispered against his flesh that was radiating heat. "Yes, mommy," he articulated, putting a lustful emphasis on the final word.

With your tongue licking a stripe up his neck, you heard the soft zip of his jeans being undone. You felt him start pumping away his length. You suckled gently on his skin.

"Ahh," a faint gasp snuck past his lips, his breath shallowing. You pulled away to catch a glimpse of what was between his legs.

"Wow," you purred, zeroing in on his swollen, mushroom-shaped head. Another pretty moan unfurled from his pink, parted lips while he caressed his sensitive tip.

"Look at that," you gasped, admiring the way precum started drooling from his slit while he played with it. "Good boy," you quietly praised him while his slender fingers were wrapped around his length, stroking it up and down at a quickening pace.

"I just know you fuck hard," you sinfully purred into his ear, his grip around his cock growing tighter. He threw his head back, giving you better access as you went back to suckling on his neck.

"Mommy, I need you," Chris relayed in a strangled moan, desperation seeping into his tone. "What do you need, Chris? Use your words, pretty boy," you cooed. A smirk played into the corner of his mouth as he listened to your praise.

"Show me what it's like to be touched by a woman," he quietly requested. "Where do you want me to touch you, baby? Right here?" You teased, gently tapping his tip with the end of your pointer finger.

"Yes, mommy. Right there," he eagerly affirmed. You gently caressed the back of the head, tracing his veins with your fingertips. You tightened your grip, replacing his own hand with yours.

He let go, letting you take the reigns as a needy whine drifted to your ears. "Yes, mommy," he replied.

You tilted his chin to face you, and you leaned in, locking your lips with his, his faint whimpers vibrating against your mouth.

He couldn't believe he was kissing you, his childhood babysitter, the woman he'd been fantasizing about for over a decade. He still wasn't convinced that this wasn't some sort of vivid dream or intense reverie.

You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other, gripping his length and pumping it at a steady pace. His hard cock involuntarily throbbed in your grasp.

"Look at me, baby," you whispered after you pulled away from the kiss, but only by a few inches. "Is it everything you wanted it to be, pretty boy?" You wondered, holding his gaze with your nose gently brushing against his while you tugged on his messy locks.

"Yes, mommy," he answered, his features and his voice saturated in lust. You looked into his pretty blue eyes while you stroked him faster and faster, feeling his cock twitch at the sensation.

He was so eager to be played with by you that he could barely contain himself.

You watched the muscles in his face tighten, his eyebrows knitting together and his eyes squeezing shut. He shuddered under your touch.

He clutched the couch cushion beneath him with both hands, curling his fingers and his toes as you brought him to climax.

A slew of guttural moans filled the room as he finished, his load squirting from his tip and painting his chest and his stomach, a bit of cum pooling into his belly button.

The warm, white substance dripped down onto your hand as you brought your movements to a standstill.

You released his soft, brown hair from your tight grasp, and he sank into the soft sofa. A satisfied smile crossed his face as he tried to regulate his breathing. He had never felt that much pleasure before.

Embarrassment flooded his system when he realized it took all of about four minutes for him to cum.

"I'm sorry I finished so fast," he mumbled breathlessly as he giggled and hid his face in his hands, reverting back to his shy nature.

"Don't be sorry, baby. About anything. You were such a good boy for me. Next time I'll show you how to last longer."

˚₊ · »-♡→ to be continued ...

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[thewidowsledger]

Mistake

© thewidowsledger 2025 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Professor!Natasha Romanoff x College Student!Female Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Tags | Warnings: +18 smut, ANGST, vile, mean, obsessive, hurt and dark Natasha, Natasha has a penis, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, hate fuck, crying but def not dacryphilia, kind of dubcon, noncon breeding

Author's Note: This is by far the darkest fic that was requested to me…I might be overreacting but I just a baby. I don't know how Latin honors works from others so I just referenced it to mine. Plot is kind of inspired with the song Teacher's Pet but it's the other way around. Request

Navigation | Masterlist

⧗

"What happened to us?" She asked again. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer that you know yourself wouldn't be willing to give.

Because you just want to forget it, forget it all—forget her.

⧗

"Isn't Y/N your rival since like 8th grade? You always hated the girl man! How come you're confessing your feelings to her on our graduation day?!" Rhodey groaned while rubbing his entire face as he talked to his best friend who just told his deep shocking secret.

"That's when I started loving her too." Tony simply replied.

You and Tony were actually schoolmates since grade school. And you have always been a top performing student ever since, while Tony only got to show his skills and intelligence not until high school—late bloomer as they say.

Who would imagine that the shy weird kid back in grade school would turn into a big massive fuckboy slash science freak in high school until college?

"So what's the plan, man?" Rhodey can only ask. He and Tony have been side by side since forever so there is no way he will not support him in getting to you. "Tony, as much as I want to support you in this…thing. You know your reputation. First, you are Y/N's acads rival, as long as there are numbers and letters and numbers and letters mixed together you are enemies and everybody knows that. Second, you have a reputation of sleeping with so many women. You know you didn't have your name cleared about the sleep night with the entire cheerleading team two years ago, in fact you didn't want your name cleared because you liked having that reputation."

"That was two years ago, I'm different now, at least I am trying too."

"I can't believe this. But honestly, I'd hit that." Rhodey smirked, showing your beach photo wearing a maxi skirt, a crochet top and the black glasses you always wore.

"Okay, enough of that! That's…that girl is mine, man. Please bro code." He snatched his friends' phone away from him and turned it off. Tony doesn't need to look at your photos anymore since he had memorized each photo of yours because he had been checking on your Instagram for at least twice a day.

"I was just joking! Of course I wouldn't." Rhodey chased his phone and was able to get it before Tony put it in his pocket. "So what's the plan? How will you…you know?" He shrugged while looking intently at his friend.

"Don't worry, I'm never running out of plans and pick up lines." He let out a laugh while also flexing his biceps

"Hey, hey! Friendly advice man? Just cut with your bad pick up lines and be a man. You just told me she's the girl you want to marry and she looks like the type who wouldn't fall for jokes or pick up lines. This isn't any rom coms, if you want her to fall in love with you, compliment and admire her mind—her intelligence."

"O…kay…where did that come from? That was a good one, Rhodey. I never thought I would hear that from you." Tony tried not to laugh his ass off, but the words of wisdom his friend just told him was something he needed.

Rhodey just shrugged, a genuine smile on his face showing as he looked at his friend. "I've always had it in me, Tony. It's just you never asked for some advice. Besides, you're different and so am I. And now, seeing you genuinely in love with this girl? I just know you need some unsolicited advice from mister lover boy right here."

"Hey, I'm a mister lover boy too." Tony pouted.

"You can be. But first, we have 8 minutes to get to Mr. Coulson's class."

The two sprinted out of the cafeteria, not even noticing Professor Romanoff sitting in the corner, her nails grazing hard against her own coffee mug.

⧗

"You're not gonna run for Latin?" You asked Tony, you were frustrated, you expected him to be your rival up until the end but when you knew you were the only one who filed for latin honors in your class, you were infuriated. You should be thankful, really, because you have no more competition but…

"I had 2.75 in molecular dynamics in 3rd year, if you didn't know. So basically, I'm not eligible to run for latin since then." You huffed at his reply, you don't know if it's out of disbelief or relief because he had that grade that made him not qualified for latin anymore.

"Did you purposely fail that class?" You asked him suspiciously. "Because I don't want to have this honor if you just basically gave it away. Like what you did in our elemag quiz bee during 10th grade, you said I only won because you basically let me, because you were just forced to join."

Tony pinched his nose, trying to hold a giggle. You are so cute, he thought to himself. Always so competitive and he loved every bit of it.

"I sucked at the subject, I promise, princess." He replied sincerely, not teasingly and provoking like he always was when he talks to you. Like when he tells you to calm yourself down before you internalize everything you had reviewed for a quiz bee, because it's just him you're gonna have to contend in some stupid quizzes.

You hated the man, but he's like a part of your system. You wouldn't function without him infuriating you—without him always competing with you.

"So…congratulations, summa cum laude." You were shocked at his words and genuineness but you didn't let him notice. For once, he didn't annoy you—for once—he's not your rival.

Before Tony could hand you the bouquet of tulips he was holding, a student suddenly rushed up to you.

"Hey, Y/N," the student said, her cheeks blushing as her eyes darted between you and Tony. "Professor Romanoff is asking for you in her office."

Hiding the tulips behind his back, Tony feigned nonchalance while you fought back your irritation. You couldn't believe it—even after all this time, he still had an effect on the women in your school. Unknown to you, the student had glimpsed the flowers he was secretly holding in his hands where she thought were for you.

"R-right now?" You stammered and the student nodded before bidding goodbye to the both of you.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked, noticing you turned pale.

As Tony asked you if you were okay, you found yourself blurting out, "Can you come with me?" You immediately regretted your words, silently cursing yourself for asking for help from the one person you loathed the most.

Despite the tension between the two of you, Tony agreed to accompany you to Professor Romanoff's office. As you walked, he fidgeted awkwardly, still holding the bouquet of flowers behind his back. Whenever you stole a glance in his direction, he'd turn away, so you wouldn't notice the bouquet peeking behind him.

The walk was filled with an uncomfortable silence, neither of you uttering a single word until you reached the professor's office.

Tony was about to reach for the door handle to Professor Romanoff's office, you quickly stopped him, passing him your bag. He shot you a questioning look, his eyes filled with concern as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You just gave him a small nod. He took your bag without protest and offered a reassuring nod in return.

"I'll wait for you here," he said, awkwardly holding your tote bag and wiggling his fingers as you go inside. His other arm was tired from having to hold the bouquet behind his back.

He could give it to you after, he thought.

⧗

You closed the door, but you deliberately left it unlocked. After a moment, Professor Romanoff emerged from the bathroom, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

"Professor." You said, your head bowed in submission. Despite your fear and trepidation, you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze, keeping your eyes on your shoes as you struggled to maintain your composure.

She walked towards you, your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead. Your lips trembled, and your shoulders tensed up as if preparing yourself for the worst. Your shoulders grazed onto each other as she locked the door behind you, trapping you inside with her.

"Is the pictorial done for graduation?" She asked, it came out soft but cold.

You took a deep breath, gathering what little ounce of courage you had left and managed to stammer out, "Yes."

Professor Romanoff's eyes traveled down your body, scrutinizing your outfit. You were wearing a skirt that teetered on the edge of being too short, paired with a fitted white top and a cardigan. You fidgeted under her intense scrutiny, feeling exposed and vulnerable under her stare.

"May I ask why I was being called, professor?" You asked, you bit your lip after for trembling too much.

"You're the only candidate for the Latin honors in our program. I talked to Professor Coulson and others in the faculty, and all of them said that your position is already secured for it not to drop below a 2," she stated. "Many professors are rooting for you to deliver your speech in 5 months."

And you? You desperately want to ask but you hold yourself back, keeping the question locked inside your mind. You wanted to speak less to her as much as possible, so you just nodded.

The room was filled with silence for several minutes, and you just stood there while she was still sitting in her office chair.

"I missed you."

Your heart literally dropped. The last time you had heard those words from her was two years ago, when you both had been caught up in a dirty secret affair.

"Didn't you miss me too? Detka? " You begged in your mind for her to not to call you those russian pet names again, well, it's one of your weaknesses still after so long.

You shook your head side to side in denial and screwed your eyes shut, as if trying to block out the words and the memories they stirred up. The mere thought of admitting to missing her was too much for you to handle—because you did, you missed her so much and you hated yourself for it. So every time your heart flutters when you see her along the hallways, you move to a different direction just to avoid her or if your mind starts to think about her, you immerse yourself in studying which most of the time failed to work.

You tried to be strong and you think you're doing good at it. You told yourself as long as you're not going to be alone with her again, you'd be fine.

And you are definitely not fine right now...

"After you came back from your immersion program, you didn't talk to me anymore..." Her voice was dark and tinged with hurt that had festered over the time you had spent away.

"What happened to us?" She asked again. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer that you know yourself wouldn't be willing to give.

Because you just want to forget it, forget it all—forget her.

Her words echoed in the air, a single tear slipped down your cheek, your breath growing more labored with each passing second. You couldn't bring yourself to answer her, your throat tight and your body trembling.

"Did you even lo—"

You didn't let her finish, you don't want her to ask you that question because you're afraid about the answer that you had kept hidden, locked in the deep, dark corner of your heart. "What I felt for you was…genuine."

What a nice way to put it.

"Genuine?" She huffed, she could take that one for now, Natasha thought. "If it's genuine then why am I a secret?"

"It was a mistake!" You rushed out before you could even blink. What would people think if they knew? That the top student in the university only got her achievements because she was basically a professor's cock sleeve?

"Nat—Professor…what…what happened before was a mistake. I told you that, right? And you know it too! We talked about it after I went to my immersion, that we'll stop. God, please, you know how wrong it was!" You cried desperately, it's not loud but it's enough for her to hear.

"Mistake?" she snapped and you can see the hurt in her eyes. "The bar, yes. That could be a mistake."

You cleared your throat awkwardly, memories of that night suddenly flooding your mind. The way the two of you danced, the way she laughed, how her lips tasted like whiskey...and then, the realization that hit you both when you're both sobered up. That was the night you slept with her, so much for being drunk you didn't realize it was your professor—the professor you had a crush on.

"What about here?" She pointed to her desk, where she had pounded you for dear life after class because you had joked to her that if you get a perfect quiz then you'll have a reward from her—and you did, she had made you cum twice for the recitation and quiz she had prepared for class, specifically for you. "And there?" You looked towards her sofa, where a lot of things happened between you two. You sucking her when she gets so frustrated during a meeting, riding her if she's too tired from paperworks—all the dirtiest kinks were done on that sofa. Even the softest ones where you both cuddled up after you didn't win the regional college quiz bowl or when you straddled her while teaching her how to tie a necktie.

"Motels, my car, my apartment, here again in my office during prom where you begged me to fuck your ass while wearing your prom queen crown." Her voice grew darker, matching the intense memories playing out in her mind. "Tell me baby, were those a mistake too? It would really hurt my feelings if you said yes."

You sobbed, shaking your head side by side, trying to dispel the memories and she can see the fear and denial in your eyes. You can just walk right now and end this torturous reminiscing. But you felt trapped in place, trapped in those memories, and she was too—she was trapped in the need to make you remember…

"Please, stop." You hiccup, trying to hold back a sob. You continue to shake your head over and over.

"You can't just go around, fuck me up and then say that's it's just a mistake afterwards." She spat, standing to walk towards you.

She loomed over you, her tall frame casting a shadow, making you feel small and vulnerable. She could see you shaking, hear your ragged breathing and it only fueled her frustration.

"Bent over my desk with that perfect little ass in the air, waiting..." She moved closer, her hand reaching out to trace your collarbone.

She watched you scramble to your feet, a dark satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as you approached her desk. She followed close behind, her heels clicking on the floor. When you reached the desk, she pressed a firm hand between your shoulder blades, bending you over it.

As she bent you over, you let out a soft moan, your face pressed against the cool surface of the desk. She could see your body relax, falling into the familiar position. Her hand slowly inched up your skirt, feeling the soft fabric bunch under her fingers. "You still remember, don't you?"

She stepped closer, pressing her length against your backside, feeling the thin barrier of her pants between you two. You found yourself grinding back against her feeling she was growing harder.

"Fuck you're still such a slut for my cock." She smirked as she gripped your waist. "Is it still a mistake? Huh? Slut? You grinding your slutty pussy back against my cock?"

You shook your head side by side, biting your lip to contain your moans.

"I need you to say it, slut." She spat.

"N-no, it's…it's not a mistake, professor." You said in a shaky tone.

Without warning, she reached down and unzipped her pants, pulling out her thick, hard cock. She wrapped her hand around it, stroking it slowly behind your back, the tip rubbing against your ass through your panties. "Fuck, I've missed this," she pressed the head of her cock against your ass, rubbing it against your panties. "Gonna fuck this tight little pussy again, just like old times."

She pushed aside your panties, revealing your vulnerable entrance, "Missed how perfectly you take me..." In one smooth motion, she thrust forward, burying herself deep inside you.

"N-nat!" Your back arched even further as you cried out a breath.

"I missed you calling me by my name." She said in a ragged breath, "I want you to shout it so Stark can hear it behind those doors." Her other hand reached around to grab your hair, tangling it in her fist as she pulled your head back, forcing you to arch your back further and to look at the door of her office where Tony was waiting. You didn't know how she knew Tony was waiting outside for you.

Your voice only seemed to spur her on. She began pounding into you, the rhythm steady and intense. She pulled out slightly, just the tip still inside you, before slamming back in with renewed ferocity. "You made me struggle, everyday, seeing you walk around in those fucking skimpy clothes...and letting anyone touch you, but not me." Each word was punctuated by a brutal thrust. "I didn't reach you because I respect you so much, love you so fucking much. And I know you will run back to me eventually…"

"But you didn't…fuck, you didn't come back to me. Am I…am I that easy? Y/N?" She asked with so much vulnerability and hate. "Do you know how hard it is to watch you go on for a day without me? When I couldn't?"

You felt some hot liquid dripping down onto your bare back, your clothes being bunched up…are those tears? You are too dumbed down to think but you noticed how Natasha held back a sob, covering up trying to sound cold and resentful towards you.

"Natasha…" you called out to her, you wanted to hold her against you but she snapped forward continuously and sloppily, hitting a spot inside you that made you whimper. "F-fuck!" You cried, it was loud and that made you cover up your own mouth.

Her climax hit and she buried herself to the hilt inside you, holding perfectly still as she rode out her orgasm. Waves of her hot cum filled your pussy, coating your insides, but she didn't say a word, she didn't tell you or even warn you. She just stayed frozen, her body shaking with the intensity of her release.

She gazed down, biting her trembling lip as she observed her cock, slick with both your arousal and her release, still buried deep inside you. A shudder ran through her as she felt the last drops of cum seep out on the tip of her shaft. Slowly pulling out, she couldn't help but moan softly at the erotic sight of her thick cum slowly oozing out of your well-used pussy. You innocently wiggle your ass as you move and it only intensified the lewd display.

You stood all by yourself and she calmly situated herself back into her leather office chair, cleaning herself up, refusing to look at your trembling form.

"N-nat?" You called, a tear running down your cheeks. You saw her reddened eyes and flushed cheeks—you were right—she was crying, but so are you. You slowly backed away, frantically tugging at your disheveled clothes, you could feel her cum still dripping slowly into your panties.

"Nat? Can we talk?" You tried again, you didn't like the feeling of this. You felt used.

"You can go now." She said flatly, her voice devoid of any emotion.

You walked towards the door, desperation etched on your face, hoping for some kind word, any sign of affection. You hated yourself for expecting some that you wanted to slap yourself. You frantically swiped at your wet cheeks, trying your best not to break down in front of her. But no matter how hard you rubbed, more tears spilled out. You couldn't catch a break, each blink bringing forth a new wave of salty drops.

And her? She just sat there, staring at her computer screen, her expression cold and heartless as if nothing happened.

She has done her plan for you anyways. So there is nothing to talk about anymore, the last thing on her list is you running back to her.

As you rushed your way out, you saw your bag on the chair with a bouquet of flowers. "Hey, Y/N. This is for you, I had to leave for the chess team. I really hate doing this but I'd like you to be my date on senior night. —T.S."

You could only huff, your brows pinching together to hold the tears that are threatening to fall again. But you weren't able to help it, you ended up having a break down outside her office, with the flowers on your arm and the evidence of what she did to you still oozing inside of you.

⧗

"Ladies and gentlemen, faculty, family, friends..." Your voice cracked slightly, betraying your nerves, but you steadied yourself, refusing to let the ghosts of the past dictate this moment. "We've worked tirelessly, overcome obstacles, and in some cases, experienced pain both personal and academic."

You glanced down at your notes, a faint smile playing on your lips as you continued. "I'd like to thank my family and friends for their unwavering support, my blockmates for turning sleepless nights into unforgettable memories, and lastly, I want to express my deepest gratitude to the professors who have molded us into the graduates we are today."

As you scanned the audience, your gaze landed on Professor Romanoff, who sat upright, her expression unreadable. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. With a deep breath, you concluded your speech. "Thank you, and congratulations to the class of 2025!"

The graduation ceremony drew to a close, and the air was filled with joyous cheers and the clicking of cameras. As you mingled with your fellow graduates, collecting well-wishes and hugs, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It seemed like everyone was drawn to you—your classmates, their families, even some of the professors. You were the center of attention, the summa cum laude, the valedictorian.

As you made your way through the crowd, congratulations ringing in your ears, a different sort of tension gripped you. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the growing pressure and the whispers that began to rise around you. Your swelling stomach was becoming more prominent by the second, stretching the fabric of your gown. You caught a few raised eyebrows and exchanged looks of confusion among your peers, their eyes glued to you.

The whispers grew louder, more urgent, as realization dawned on everyone. The batch valedictorian delivered her speech with a baby bump that had been concealed beneath flowing gowns and baggy clothes all semester, but now...there was no hiding it. Exactly four months along, your secret was suddenly the most spoken topic at this joyous event.

Tony stood near enough to be seen by you, a bouquet of roses hiding behind his back. He had been about to confess his feelings, to tell you that your intellect and beauty had captivated him all these years you had been rivals. But now, as he noticed the unmistakable curve of your belly…you noticed how he stepped back. His perfectly prepared speech shattered in his mind.

He walked away from you as if he was disappointed in you. At the same time you could feel the shift in the atmosphere, not just from him but the disappointment radiating off the crowd like a physical force.

You tried to smile to those around you to mask the dam that is going to break soon, but you still held your chin up with the little courage and confidence you had left in you.

"Mama, I'll just talk to someone. I'll meet you in the car." Your mother has been very supportive of you, yes, she scolded you when she got the news that you were pregnant. She always looked up and expected more from you, but still, she accepted and took care of you.

With a deep breath, you marched down the corridor towards her office. There were no people around and that's when it suddenly hit you. Tears started rushing down your cheek as your heels clicked urgently against the polished floor even though your OB gyne told you to stop wearing elevated shoes, you wiped them away frantically because you don't want to face her feeling vulnerable like this. The determination etched on your face chased away any lingering doubts. You were going to face this head-on, consequences be damned.

As you pushed open the door, she glanced up from her desk, surprise momentarily flashing across her features before smoothing into a smirk.

She leaned back in her leather chair, folding her hands atop the polished wood. "Y/N, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"Natasha…" you stepped forward, your hand traveling down your stomach. Your built up mask breaking, feeling vulnerable and exposed in front of her. You held back your tears, shaming yourself. "I have never been with anyone but you. I'm pregnant��I—I think you got me—"

She got your message, of course she did. Because this is exactly how she planned it to be, her claiming you in a way you didn't expect, you running back to her all vulnerable, and her turn saying…

"It was a mistake."

[coolchasteboy]

Before Mina started feminizing me I would always get these strange feelings when I saw her get dressed for work each morning. I just stared at her I was of course attracted to her, but that is not the reason whyI was staring. I had this desire to wear a bra and panty set. And to wear panty hose. I never told her. The desire was so strong. I really wanted to get dressed each day wearing panties, hose, and put on make up. Sometimes I would get so horny from imagining myself in panties and hose I would come up to her. I would press my hard cock against her. She always liked it, but would always say, I can't fuck now, I don't want to get cum on my clothes. She wouldn't give me a blow a job either as she didn't want to mess up her make up.

One morning I was so horny and I was leaking. I so desperately wanted to be wearing her thong panties. I hated my boxers. I got naked and came up behind her. She said no. "But Mina, I am really horny. I need to cum in you." She finally gave in. "Josh, make sure you come inside me. I don't want your cum on my panties or hose. It will get on my dress." So she pulled down her hose and thong to her knees and I mounted her. I mounted her like a dog in heat. I started fucking her pussy like I had never fucked it before. "That's it Josh, give me your sperm. Mark your territory. Make a baby in me." With that I just blew load after load after load. "Be careful when removing your cock from my pussy" she said. "Don't get cum mess on my hose." I was careful. She quickly pulled up her panties up so cum wouldn't leak down her leg. The she pulled up her hose. I was no longer horny but my desire to wear a bra, panties, hose, and make-up was still very strong. She finished her make up, put on her black work dress, put on heels, got her purse and went to work.

We repeated this most mornings. "Josh, you realize that every time you fuck me like this your cum drips out of my pussy all day and stains my panties." That just made me hornier. "Look Josh, you don't understand. It is a real mess down there. Whenever I go to the bathroom I have get your cum out of my panties. So either we fuck before I shower so I can clean your cum out of my pussy or we wait until we get home." I said no. She was pissed, but I didn't care. I fucked her like this every morning. She had to sit in my cum all day. She didn't like it.

A few years later after I was fully feminized and didn't own any more boy clothes, I was getting dressed for work, just like a woman, just like I had always longed to do. Mina and I were still living together but she had a new boyfriend. I was in the bathroom putting on my make-up and this stud of a boyfriend came in, completely naked with a hard 10 inch cock. "Jennifer, I want you to suck me off before you go to work." OMG, I couldn't believe it. I so wanted his cock. But just like Mina, I had to now worry about my make up. "Marquis, I can't I don't want to have to do redo my make up." With that he came up behind me and pulled down my pantyhose and thong. "Then you will just have to take it in your pussy, want you. No make-up there." I was like "I can't, it will leak out." It was just like Mina telling me no because she didn't like cum leaking out during the day. Marquis, just did what I used to do with Mina. He started fucking me. He didn't care about my having to sit in cum. He just needed to unload. OMG, did it hurt. I had never had a large cock like that in my pussy. He just kept pounding. Then he shot load after load after load after load. He pulled out. I pulled my thong up as quickly as I could to absorb his cum. I then pulled my hose up, finished my make up, and finished dressing.

At work that day his cum leaked out of my pussy all day. The thong was so soaked that I finally just took it off. (I actually had to cut it off so I wouldn't have to take my hose off.). The rest of the day his cum leaked out of me. When I got home Mina asked "what happened to your dress." I didn't know what she was talking about. "Your dress, why is it wet in the back." I was stunned, his cum soaked through my dress and left a white wet patch. "I am so embarrassed" I said. "Marquis fucked me before work and his cum leaked out of me all day. I was wearing a thong so I couldn't put in a panty liner. Finally, I just took my thong off it was so soaked."

"So Jennifer, now you know how it feels" she said. "What do you mean" I responded. "You know, taking a man's cum - when he forced you - and having to sit in his cum all day. You used to do that to me." I was stunned. "I am so sorry, but I was so horny." "Yes, and Marquis was horny this morning too. So I told him to go breed you. My days of sitting in cum are over with. But yours are just beginning. But you really should wear bikini panties so you can wear a panty liner. I know you don't like the visible panty lines, but you can't keep ruining your dresses and thongs with his cum."

I just stood there, looking stunned. "Don't worry Jennifer, you will get used to it. It is a girl thing. We all have to get used to being a breeding toy for our men. It is just what we do" she said. "You are right Mina. Thank you for showing me the ropes. Thank you for making me into a real woman."

[raekensluver]

a bit more on the fluff side but doing the "i cant pay my mortgage this month" tiktok prank with luigi? only if you like it!

my heart exploded while writing this. he's too cute.

contains: fluff, tiktok prank, talk about money/financial status

luigi mangione x fem!reader

"hey lu? i'm sorry, but i can't pay the mortgage this month," you said, voice barely a murmur.

the room was eerily still, the silence so thick you could almost see it stretching between you and your boyfriend, luigi. he looked up from his laptop, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "what do you mean?" he asked, setting aside his work.

you swallowed hard, trying to keep the smirk off your face. "i just said, i can't pay the mortgage this month," you repeated, trying to sound as casual as possible. "i've had some trouble with my work. it's just not coming in like it should."

luigi's brows furrowed as he processed your words. "but you know i've got it, right?" he said, his voice a gentle reminder of the unspoken truth in your relationship. "you don't have to worry about that stuff when you're with me."

you nodded, your heart skipping a beat. you felt a twinge of guilt for the prank you were playing on him. in reality, you had more than enough to cover the mortgage, but you wanted to see his reaction. "i know, but i just…" you trailed off, pretending to be lost for words.

luigi's eyes narrowed slightly. "you know i got you covered, right?" he said, his voice calm but firm. "why are you even worried about it?"

you took a deep breath, preparing for the grand reveal. "because i want to contribute more, lu," you said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "i don't want to just rely on you all the time."

he looked at you, his gaze searching. "you know i don't mind taking care of us," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. "but if it's really important to you…" he trailed off, his expression unreadable.

you couldn't hold it in any longer. the tension was too much. you burst into laughter, the room echoing with the sound. "luigi, i'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. "it's a prank! a tiktok challenge going around!"

his face went from concerned to confused in a split second, and then the realization set in. "you… you little…" he started, but he couldn't keep his own smile from breaking through. he threw a cushion at you, which you deftly dodged, your laughter bubbling over.

his eyes twinkled with amusement as he took in your glee. "i can't believe you did that to me," he said, shaking his head. but there was no anger in his voice, only the gentle rumble of laughter. "i thought you were serious for a second there."

you slid over to him on the couch, wrapping your arms around his neck. "i'm sorry, i couldn't resist," you whispered, kissing his cheek. "you're always so good to me. i just wanted to see if i could get a rise out of you."

his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. "you definitely did," he said, his laughter subsiding into a chuckle. "you had me going for a second."

[married-to-google-translater]

Hello, I would like to ask for an imagine of Leona and Jamil in a self-aware AU, being in love with a reader, who has one of them as a favorite (you can decide if you want Yandere or not)

Okaaaaay~ I hope u enjoy this :3

Yandere Leona Kingscholar

Leona wouldn't care much about being a game character.

He would care more about not being able to cuddle with the real you.

This dude is very chill...

At least until he realizes that some other people can flirt with you.

Leona would definitely not approve of this.

He would have to come up with something.

However, knowing that he is your favorite character would calm him down a bit.

Oh Leona would be really smug if he was your favorite.

He would really rub it in Malleus' face.

You would improve his self-esteem a lot.

Too bad you're not in their world.

This would really annoy him.

Leona would be rich...

He might not have experience with how the code works, but he could certainly hire someone to figure it out.

His family would get the bill :3

You would get a lot of edited interactions.

R.I.P Malleus' screen time.

Leona is not sure how, but he will find a way for you to be together.

Yandere Jamil Viper

Well, this would be a shock.

Jamil had never thought of himself as a game character.

He doesn't know how to deal with this at first.

However, things will get better with time.

Jamil believes that you still understand him better than anyone else.

Also knowing that he is your favorite makes it a little easier.

Jamil would have to explain all the time that his ability to hypnotize does not work in another world.

Believe Jamil would have tried.

If he got paid every time people think he would be richer than Kalim.

However, Jamil is not rich...

This would annoy him a lot because he can't bribe anyone to modify the code.

Jamil might try to learn on his own.

After all, he would be pretty smart.

If your game crashes when you try to put another character on your home screen, you know who to blame.

Jamil would probably want to find a way to enter your world so you could be together.

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟱 𝗴𝗼𝗮𝗹𝘀

𝟭. travel ( ✈️ )

2024 took away many travel opportunities from me. i was supposed to go to barcelona with my family, but my grandfather passed away, and we stayed in italy to handle the funeral. i was supposed to travel to sofia with my cousin, but one of my exams was rescheduled to a date i couldn’t possibly miss, so i had to give up the trip. lastly, i was planning to go to valencia to celebrate my birthday, but a flood disrupted the city, and i couldn't go anymore.

in short, it was a frustrating year in this regard — i lost a lot of money and, most importantly, many opportunities to travel, which i believe has significantly inhibited me in this area. while i used to be much more inclined to book last-minute trips when the chance to travel on a budget arose, now i feel much more anxious about doing so.

i want 2025 to be filled with travels. i want to fully take advantage of the opportunities that circumstances beyond my control stole from me in 2024.

𝟮. keep my life even more private ( 🔒 )

it's been years now since i completely disappeared from social media. i no longer post photos or updates about my life online as if i were an influencer, and my daily life has significantly improved without the pressure to appear a certain way online. life is truly better when no one knows anything about you.

however, in real life, i'm quite the chatterbox, and i often find myself oversharing without even realizing it. that said, because i strongly believe in the evil eye, i've learned that, even if i have to bite my tongue, i can't share projects that are not yet completed — not even with the people closest to me, not even if i'm 100% sure they would be happy for me.

in fact, even though i cut off toxic people from my life two years ago, other friendships i thought were strong have ended this year. i want to live a peaceful, private life, even if that means staying silent. show results rather than plans.

𝟯. meditate and journal ( 🪴 )

i started this year (2024) well with this kind of self-care, but i completely lost it around may. i'll try again in 2025, hoping i can stick to it. if not, see you in 2026.

𝟰. indulge in healthy female friendships ( 🩷 )

two years ago, i cut ties with many toxic friendships that were holding me down and keeping me from healing. since then, i've been mostly alone, except for a few surviving connections i kept after high school. when i started university, i made new friendships, but they were very superficial and always centered around university matters.

however, since moving to spain, i've really understood which people were just taking from me without truly being interested in me as a person. in return, though, these past few months i've met some truly amazing girls in madrid, and i want to let myself indulge in that beautiful feminine energy that only girl friendships can give. wine and cheese in front of an episode of gilmore girls while you cut out pictures for your vision board.

𝟱. eat healthier ( 🥗 )

these past few months have been a rollercoaster with food. i've prepared a lot of homemade meals, but i've also ordered out quite often. i don't see anything wrong with ordering takeout or eating out with friends, but since it often happened when i was alone and didn't feel like cooking, i want to try to organize my cooking better and eat as many homemade meals as possible. of course, i won’t deprive myself of lunches and dinners out with friends, but i want to limit takeaway food to social occasions, not to lonely sundays.

it's been less than two years since i got out my ed and i want to keep the happy and healthy relationship with food i gained with so much hard work.

𝟲. keeping up with goals reached last year ( ☁️ )

obviously, all the work i’ve done over the past few years won’t go to waste! i want to persevere with the good habits i’ve developed and the work i’ve done on myself. the past few years have been strange and full of changes, but i feel like it’s all been positive. i’m happy with where i’ve gotten to and the person i’ve become, but i know i still have a long way ahead of me.

happy new year's eve everyone 🎉 which goals are you planning to reach?

[brazenautomaton]

If lobbying didn't buy votes, companies wouldn't do it. The idea that lobbying money doesn't influence what policies get implemented just isn't credible.

You have no actual proof of these claims other than "things are a certain way, I think this party benefits from it, therefore this party caused it to be this way."

You have nothing specific to point to. The idea that "if lobbying didn't work companies wouldn't do it" fails the smell test: one, you don't consider maybe lobbying doesn't accomplish the thing you think it does and accomplishes something else (namely the thing I said, it's a reward for people who already like them), and two, we have seen example after example after example of things that The Corporations really don't like, that they have lots of money to try and stop, and a very good interest in stopping, that they absolutely could not have and didn't even attempt to buy votes against. Everyone was all aghast about how Verizon wanted to kill net neutrality and it was proof companies owned our democracy -- nobody mentioned how this policy would be very bad for Google because Google benefits from net neutrality, and Google has approximately one shit-zillion times as much money as Verizon, and Google appeared to have no ability to buy our democracy and preserve its interest. Banks have lots and lots of money, and banks don't like cryptocurrency, and somehow, nobody in government knows what to do about cryptocurrency and the Common People are all lamenting about how the government refuses to regulate cryptocurrency, when the banks should have been able to buy our democracy and regulate it out of existence. Fucking Disney can't even buy Ron DeSantis shutting the fuck up.

Political spending is a consumption good. The striking thing about money in politics is how little of it there is. The money at stake with these policies is so, so, so much higher than the amount of money being spent on lobbying that if money could buy votes, every CEO must be brain-dead because they haven't got the idea to spend 10 times as much money buying votes and get back a 1,000x return on investment.

When I talk about distributional efficiency in what claims get approved, I am not saying that every claim should be approved. I am saying that the US insurance industry does a bad job of rejecting claims based on how important they are, as opposed to whether patients are able to fight their case. IIRC an average insurance company rejects a little over 10% of claims, so maybe this would need to move to a little over 5% to eliminate unreasonable rejections, increasing premiums by 5% (or perhaps less if profits can be squeezed).

Do you have any math on how they specifically are bad at approving claims that are more important, and turning down claims that are less important? Obviously there's an error rate inherent in any process like this, and we both agree they turn down lots of care that is necessary. But do you think they turn down care at random? Are the mechanisms they use different from how socialized health care systems allocate care? Socialized health care systems also turn down care because the demand for health care is infinite (there is always a more expensive and less likely to work treatment you can try) while resources are finite. They also turn down care based on how expensive it is. Do we have any reason to believe that the lower rate of refusal is due to anything other than "health care costs less so their dollar goes further?" There are plenty of horror stories about socialized health care systems refusing to pay for treatment for things they don't believe are medically necessary or don't believe will work, and patients who strongly disagree and who tried to appeal. This story went around recently of a woman who needed very expensive surgery in Canada, the health care system refused to pay, she raised the money herself and went to California and had it done, and came back to Canada suggesting assisted suicide for her untreatable illness. Guess what, all systems must allocate scarce resources and sometimes they are gonna make a bad call. Do we have any reason to believe that American insurance companies are worse at determining necessity than Canada's health care system, when the obvious causative factor is "they turn down more treatment because it's much more expensive and they can't pay as much"?

Literally every single system, every single one, will allocate care based not on need but on how good people are at advocating for themselves. That is the proxy all human beings in these decision-making positions use for "how necessary is it." The group of things that nobody has to advocate for is larger in a system where health care is not ruinously expensive, but as soon as it becomes a question of if the cost is worth it, as soon as discretion is involved, then every single system every single one there is not an exception to this this is not exaggeration this is every single one of them will make decisions based on "how well is this person able to convince me, the decision maker, that they need this care and it would be worthwhile to pursue" instead of "how necessary it is and how worthwhile would it be to pursue." Because it is literally and not figuratively impossible for them to obtain information about that second thing! Any time they try, they just get the first one! It's how communication works!

And the idea that "to cover 5% more cases they would need to increase premiums by 5%" is obviously not true. The treatments American insurers turn down tend to be the ruinously expensive ones, and when there are treatments that are not ruinously expensive, they don't have trouble paying. That means that the scale is not linear. Reducing the rate of refusal from 10% to 5% would not cost them 5% more money because you're asking them to pay for the most expensive decile of medical treatments.

It is true that a lot of the discursive consequences of Thompson's murder have just been bloodlust, but it hasn't just been that. I think the BCBS case is an excellent example of that, because you left out the crucial fact that the cost of any difference in billed hours of anesthesia vs insurance-covered hours was going to fall on patients, not on hospitals. So that was a terrible policy that would have increased the number of people ruined by medical debt. But moreover, the fact that BCBS felt the need to reverse the policy shows that they felt a genuine policy pressure from the public, which wouldn't be the case if the reaction was merely bloodlust.

Doctors fleece insurance companies/Medicare because they know insurance companies/Medicare will pay, and this causes health care to be more expensive for everyone. They do not do this directly to patients, because this makes health care much more expensive for one person who is unlikely to pay. It is an incentive that changes behavior.

"Old people will fall out of bed and injure themselves, necessitating more hospital time than the thing they were originally there for" used to be an iron law of hospital care. It was put forth as the law "Gomer goes to ground" in House of God, the "it's true but he shouldn't say it" book about what it is actually like to work in a hospital and what people there actually think. Then insurance companies stopped paying for care caused by falling out of hospital beds. Instead of gomer going to ground and then gomer having to pay for it, that incontestable law of hospital care completely vanished. The change in the insurance policy stopped rewarding negligent behavior, and the negligent behavior stopped. If this policy had been changed right before an assassination, they would have reversed it for fear of a bloodthirsty killer (I don't understand how you can say this proves it has nothing to do with bloodthirst), and health care would be more expensive as it had to pay for more care for old people falling out of bed, and a lot more old people would be injured falling out of bed. Booking giant blocks of time for anasthesia in surgery is negligent behavior. These procedures do not take that long, and the doctors know that, but they have no reason not to overbill. BCBS wanted to stop rewarding negligent behavior. It is good to stop rewarding negligent behavior.

You just seem really, really, really confident that a bunch of statistics and math you don't have access to all shake out to be really, really, really convenient for you.

I think political assassinations are broadly not very good but I do want them to jury nullify on mangione. I mean he already did the assassination he already did it can't take it back now. So why not let him walk as a free man?

[peachyscenes]

nine to five | office workers!enhypen x fem!reader

notes: SMUT!! so mdni and proceed with caution/at your own risk! porn with some plot. you 🫵, my dear reader are in fact the same person for the rest of this piece/mini-series (not sorry lol). enhypen are pervs! like freaky pervs! decelis corp is lowkey highkey a sex service company lol. you must really need this job but it's ok because same. not required, but i encourage you all to read part one and two to give them love 🫶🫶

a/n: me when my final for a class was monday the 23rd and christmas eve was tuesday and then christmas was wednesday and now new years is TODAY 😭😭

taglist!: @vixialuvs @chubbypeach2111 @jungwoosbaey

reblogs are appreciated!!

Welcome to Decelis Corporation! As the new member of the creative department, you're tasked with developing new ideas to help promote the company and bring in new investors! Though the creative department is not as big as the other departments, you and your seven teammates are just as capable and incredibly skilled! Though, no one told you just how skilled they were... And unfortunately you made the mistake of not reading the fine print when signing the contract...

All members are welcome to explore the services provided by Decelis! By signing this contract, you are consenting to every and all services at your own expense (refer to the employee handbook for the list of services)! Please note that services outside of office hours will not count as overtime unless a request has been submitted by the team leader!

Thank you for joining Decelis Corporation! We hope to have you for a while!

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII

Part III: Jake, Data Entry Clerk

There's a small part of you that can't help but feel smitten whenever Jake comes to you about something. His charms are different from your other coworkers. His smile is infectious and his eyes quite literally sparkled when he asked you to hand some files to Sunghoon before you went on break. Jake Sim is so polite and sweet that you almost never question him.

You're walking into Decelis when you notice that the elevators are down and a couple of people outside of it discussing its condition. Quickly, you seek out the front door receptionist to figure out why.

"They've been acting up since yesterday in the evening. At around 6:00pm I think. The technicians have been working on it early this morning. You'll have to take the stairs." She gives you an apologetic smile, and you can only thank her and return the gesture because at the end you know it's not anyone's fault. Thank goodness your company actually cares. Fortunately, your department is only on the third floor, so while you did have to climb a bit (and shamefully you were absolutely winded), it definitely beats being on the higher floors.

Upon entering your department, you're immediately bombarded with tasks to do (courtesy of Jongseong). You want to complain about how you just got here, but you're suddenly reminded of the last time you ran your mouth to Jay.

Your bum aches at the reminder.

You decide to just listen, so you get settled and begin to work on your files. About an hour goes by when there's a knock on your desk. You look up to be met with Jake's blinding smile.

"Working hard or hardly working?" You sigh and smile back at him.

"I wish it was the latter."

Jake snorts. "Tell me about it." He looks around the office before grabbing a nearby chair and sitting across from you. You look around too, curious as to what he was searching for. You notice that Jay's desk is empty.

"Jay's been on our asses for the last two weeks. I can't believe Heeseung threw us to the slaughter." You giggle at his dramatics. Heeseung had to extend his week for a business trip, meaning that he'd be back next week.

"It's not so bad. He hasn't scolded anyone yet."

"Yet. I bet it's gonna be Riki this time. I noticed that the coffee pot is a quarter away from being empty." You look over to the said individual's desk and lo and behold, a fresh cup next to him.

"To be fair, he, Jungwon, and Sunoo do have a presentation later this afternoon. I guess he's feeling stressed."

Jake shrugs before turning to you once again.

"Speaking of afternoon... how about you and I get lunch together? I saw that didn't bring anything."

"Isn't your lunch an hour before mine?"

Jake nods, but gives no further explanation. He simply smiled, waiting for you to answer him.

"Okay, let's get lunch together."

You never questioned Jake. He was simply charming. Not even when his staring was lingering, or when he'd accidentally brush up against you. He was polite.

It's finally your lunch break when Jake shows up at your desk. There was an email about the elevators finally working, but it's advised that the stairs keep being used. Jake, ever the persuader, said that the elevator was fine.

"Decelis hires the best of the best. Everything will be fine."

You both hadn't even made it off the third floor when there's a stutter in the elevator's movement and then a complete stop. You wait a few seconds, two minutes, when you both decide that the elevator are down. Again.

Jake had called Jongseong to let him know of the situation. You're not in immediate danger, so there's no need to rescue you both, but the wait would be long, mostly likely your whole work day.

"I'll give you both a two day extension for the work, but I would prefer if it got submitted on time." You can hear the annoyance in Jay's voice and it took everything in you to not tell him off. Jake thanks him before hanging up.

"So much for my lunch." You grumble. You lean against the elevator wall, slightly annoyed.

"I'm sorry, Doll."

What?

You whip your head up upon hearing the pet name, and you're met with something different. A smirk.

This Jake is different from your usual one. While his eyes still sparkled, they had a hint of something more mischievous. And his charming smile is replaced with a dangerous expression. One that has you hypnotized.

"It's my fault that we're in this mess. Don't you think?"

"I-I guess..."

Jake closes in on you, and due to the limited space of the elevator, he stands in front of you pretty quickly.

"What if I make it up to you. I'll buy your dinner later. And..."

"And...?" His smirk grows, and you're sure that you just fell in his trap.

"Let me eat your sweet pussy."

It doesn't take much to convince you. A couple kisses here and there and you're letting Jake take off your dress pants before he drops to his knees.

Jake kisses up from your ankle, occasionally licking and nibbling at your skin. He keeps eye contact with you as he makes his way up.

"Heeseung said your pussy is sweet. I've been fantasizing about how you taste since."

"Y-You talked about me?" You feel breathless as he passes your knee and his hair brushes the front of your mound.

"We all do. You're so pretty, how could we not?" He reaches the front of your underwear, and teasingly gives you a kiss on your clothed pussy. Jake gently brings one of your legs up to his shoulder before leaning in to inhale your cunt through your underwear. He lets out a guttural groan, biting his lip and leaning in to give you a tentative lick right above where your clit is.

You feel your heart quickening. Seeing Jake from this angle made you feel something. Something primal and his stupid, pretty doe eyes that somehow still held stars in them did not help. You wanted to see him cry so bad. You wanted big, fat tears to fall from his apple cheeks. Your hand finds its way into his hair and you pull his head back, causing his brows to shoot up and a slight blush to show on his face.

"If you wanna taste, you gotta beg Puppy."

Jake feels his stomach turn at the tone of your voice. It does something to him and he can only let out a whine at the sudden change of roles.

"Can I taste your pussy, Miss?"

"Do you deserve it Pup? You said it was your fault..." You elicit another whine from him. His voice heightens in pitch.

"I didn't know the elevator would go down-!" Another sound, this time a whimper when you tighten your grip in his hair.

"Watch your tone."

"M-M'sorry Miss! Please! Let me taste you! I promise to be good, I promise! Please let me taste your pussy!"

You don't say anything. Instead you move his head to your clothed cunt and press his face against you. He lets out a muffled 'thank you!' before lapping at your cunt, soaking the fabric of your underwear with his saliva. He keeps his hands to his side as he works his tongue on you. Your legs spread further to accommodate to his body that leans more into you. His tongue is warm and long.

You feel him lick what he can and when you look down, his eyes are staring right back at you. You moan when his tongue comes back to where you clit is. Jake slightly pulls back to throw a dollop of spit onto your clothed pussy before diving back in. His eyes roll back when he feels your own slick start to leak through.

He whimpers when you pull him back to see his work. Your folds are sticking to your underwear, making your pussy visible to him. The color of your panties do not help him. You wore white today, so the fabric almost blends in with your cunt, making every crease visible to him.

"Can I please take off your panties Miss?" Jake looks up at you pathetically and you can see his tears begin to form at his waterline.

You pretend to dwell on his question before giving him the okay. Jake's hands shoot up to the sides of your hips, ready to yank your panties down, when you stop him. You take his hands and place them on your thighs.

"M-Miss?"

You smile at him. Your hand cups his cheek, lovingly rubbing the apple of it with your thumb before running your thumb down to his mouth and opening his jaw. You slip your thumb into his mouth and Jake automatically sucks on it. You thrust your thumb into and out for a bit before taking it out. You run your thumb across his lower lip before speaking to him.

"Take them off with your teeth."

Jake doesn't hesitate, and immediately leans in to take your waistband in between his pearly whites. Jake slowly sinks down, tugging your panties off. He makes it to about your knees when you stop him. You gently tug on his hair and pull him back. He lets out another whine, and you can only giggle before leaning down to kiss him on the lips. Jake moans into you, using the opportunity to shove his tongue into your mouth. You thread your hand through his hair you you both kiss. His hands knead your thighs. You break the kiss to speak to him.

"That's enough. You've been so good to me Jakey."

You stand at your full height, taking off your panties before slinging them at him.

"Keep them. You're such a good boy."

You lean back against the wall of the elevator before spreading your legs. Jake immediately goes in and begins to devour you. His previous ministrations have your pussy dripping, his tongue was sliding easily between your folds. You moan when you feel his tongue circling around your clit and sucking on it. You push his face even further into you and Jake moans. His tongue doesn't miss a single inch of your pussy and you moan when you realize just how bad Jake wants you. You keep Jake in place on your cunt and let out another moan as he buries himself, his nose bumping against your clit.

"You love my pussy, right Jakey?"

Jake moans in response as his tongue laps at your hole. The raw taste of you is better than what he imagined and he doesn't think any other taste will satisfy him after this. His tongue prods at your hole, teasing it before delving into it. He thrusts his tongue in and out, feeling just how warm and sweet you were.

No wonder Heeseung and Jay like you so much.

Jake fucks you with his tongue and you feel yourself starting to lose your mind. Your moans begin to get louder and louder. Your legs want to clamp around his head and trap him, but his hands prevent you from doing so. They're rubbing at your thighs so gently, calm. The complete opposite of how his mouth is ruining you. Your chest heaves and before you realize it, you're coming on his tongue. Jake helps you ride out your orgasm, switching between sucking on your clit and licking your folds. A final touch to your clit has you whining and you have to gently push his head away from between your legs.

Your legs feel like jelly when he stands, and had it not been for the arm that wraps around your waist, you would've definitely fallen to the ground. Jake holds you close to him for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasm. You're about to ask him if you could help him with his boner when you notice the wet patch at the front of his pants.

Jake looks down and a slight blush appears on his face out of embarrassment.

"I really enjoyed myself."

[loveandleases]

After quite a visit to urgent care, I was wondering who is fretting the most after Mc comes home from the hospital? Who tries to give them alone time? Who is hovering over like a mother, hen? Who has everything prepared and ready? Who is running to get whatever Mc asked for?

Ok, first off, are you okay?!

❤️ Cam – He will fret. You know the saying, “like a chicken with its head cut off”? That’s Cam. He’s constantly rushing around, making sure MC is comfortable and has everything they need. It’s one thing if he’s sick or hurt, but it’s something else entirely if MC is. Obviously, he won’t cook for MC—that would do more harm than good—but he’ll make sure to get some home-cooked meals from Em (that he can heat up in the microwave if needed).

Cam’s already clingy, so he’ll be just a bit more so when MC is sick, though he’ll also want to ensure they get plenty of rest. He’ll set up a spot for himself in a chair in the corner of the room—far enough that he thinks MC won’t get annoyed with his presence, but close enough to be there if they need him. (Of course, he’ll be in constant pout mode if MC mentions needing space, but he’ll respect it.)

💙G – A total mother hen. They will ensure that MC isn’t lifting a finger for anything. G has a comically large first aid kit and a medicine cabinet stocked with everything they think MC might need. While MC is resting, G takes care of everything else (plus makes sure MC gets a good, long nap). Food will be made fresh. By the end of it, MC will likely be tired of them, but G just wants to ensure they’re properly taken care of.

💚Kara – She isn’t the best when it comes to taking care of someone. Kara vividly remembers getting sick as a kid and how everyone fussed over her because she’s the baby of the family. Due to that she has the belief that people need space when they feel bad. She’ll put together a little care package for MC (complete with cookies she baked, despite refusing to believe she can’t bake good ones—it’s in everyone’s best interest if they’re tossed). She’ll also send over the family doctor a few times to make sure MC is okay, but otherwise, Kara will let MC relax and take it easy.

💛M – Oh, poor Mar is stressing. They've got a notepad full of notes of what the doctor had said. What MC needs, what they can and can't do. M still ends up making several trips to the pharmacy to grab everything they think MC might need.

They’re scatterbrained at the best of times, and this situation is no different. M ensures MC is well taken care of, with plenty of blankets, any necessary meds, and even a trashy movie to watch. For once, they refuse to work—honestly forgetting about some deadline and focusing entirely on MC. They even manage to get over three hours of sleep, which is a rarity for them. Regardless, M will keep on high alert until MC is fully better.

💜 Isaac – They're, but you’d never know it from how he masks it with humor and a flirty comment like, “You’re just trying to keep me around, aren’t you?” Still, Isaac can't help but hover, making sure MC has food (even if it’s takeout) and everything they need, while pretending it’s no big deal. Isaac isn’t one for overt emotional gestures early on , but they’ll do the small things—like leaving their favorite snacks or a blanket nearby—without drawing attention to it. Isaac will try to distract MC with jokes and funny movies, but deep down, seeing them vulnerable like this reminds them of losing their own mom. It leaves them feeling conflicted, somewhat guilty. Isaac will care for MC in their own way, even if he's terrified of getting too close.

🖤 Ardent – He’s on top of his game. Ardent will ensure that MC isn’t bothered by anyone, has a proper place to recuperate, and that the noise is kept to a minimum and the temperature just right. He’ll play it off like it’s problematic for him, but when he’s not looking, it’s easy to see the worry on his face. He’ll struggle with giving MC space while staying nearby when they need him. Ardent would even offer up his room for MC, letting Cam keep Cupid until MC is better. He tries to plan ahead and have everything MC might need. But if MC wants a specific type of candy that he doesn’t have, he’s gone in an instant. No room for discussion—just accept his help. (his niece will not let him live it down.)

[tojislibrvry]

★ ︵ @ nanami / reader , sūggestıve , jealōusý , māsōchısm

nanami and you have been going out for a few months, and you don't think you've ever been as happy as you are right now. nanami is everything you can ask for, he buys you anything you look at, kisses you like his life depends on it and loves you like you are his religion.

but he also gets so jealous very easily

it's not that he doesn't trust you, not that he thinks you are the kind to stray, he just hates how people look at you, like you are theirs...

it was an office event, and of course nanami invited you as his plus one. making sure he got you the prettiest red dress ever, the way it hugged your body, had him so fucking hard. it was quite modest, the only skin revealed was your legs,,, but anything on you, or nothing on you (doesn't really matter) was enough to make him rock hard in his tailored pants.

"oooh- is this nanami's pretty girlfriend?" a man sauntered up to the both of you, dressed in an expensive white suit to match his hair.

you recognised him, how could you not? this was the very same coworker that nanami would complain to you about during dinner.

"gojo," his voice comes out a little strained, "yes, this is my girlfriend, you might recognise her of course, she interned in our company a while ago." kento answers, hand on your waist pulling you closer.

"awww, isn't she absolutely gorgeous, can't believe nanami got his hands on you before me." he giggles, eyes glimmering with a mischievous glint.

"i'm lucky she decided to go out with me." nanami forces a smile, his grip on your waist becoming tighter.

you gasp and giggle, "nooo... im the lucky one, kento is so kind to me," you say looking fondly at him.

you continue, "oh and thank you so much gojo! you look quite nice yourself." you return the compliment.

suddenly someone calls out to nanami, a fellow coworker and he gets whisked away leaving you all alone with gojo. he smiles like a cheshire cat, the gears in his brain working harder. he looks at nanami from where he is, making steady eye contact as he begins to talk to you.

he tells you about how nanami was actually his junior in high school and how he was really into the emo subculture then, recounting stories of young nanami that made you laugh until there were tears in your eyes. he fishes his phone out to show you a picture, teen nanami brooding and scrawny, hair swept to the side.

of course to you, you were just talking to gojo about your shared love for nanami. but to him, the one way out of earshot to understand the context of your giggling, the green fire of jealousy made its way to his heart.

he slowly makes his way over to you, pulling you away from gojo and hands travelling to your hip. you were still laughing, too far gone to notice the expression on his face.

"what's got you so giggly? hm?" he asks, fingers pinching your thigh. it's not really painful , almost like an ant biting. but you are the kind to bruise easily, red blooming the minute his fingers pull apart.

you are immediately pulled out of your laughing fit, eyes blown wide looking up to nanami. it's almost like he had conditioned you, a little touch to your pretty thighs and you were ready to cum in your little thong.

"o-oh! gojo was just showing me pictures..." you mumble, embarrassed by the heated stare nanami was giving you. you felt so small under his gaze. your tongue comes out to wet your lips, to ease the way your throat has dried up.

gojo stands still in front of the both of you, smirking as he sees the tension build. he knew very well what he was doing. rolling his eyes and happy that once again he managed to piss nanami off, he walks away to the bar.

"i think it's high time we go home, you look needy." nanami rasps out, the hand on your thigh travelling upto your ass and staying there. you nod, words unable to string themselves together.

nanami sighs, eyes darkening and his smile dropping as he guides you towards the exit.

"when we are home, i'm going to teach you to use your words."

[viasdiary]

☆ poolside convo (luigi mangione x reader)

☆ word count: 1.7k

☆ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, not proofread

☆ loosely inspired by "self control" by frank ocean, main character is on vacation in hawaii and leaves her summer lover behind

☆ this is my first fic ever!! some inspo from @jjkbambi @raekensluver @burnforyou enjoy!!

the golden glow of the setting sun shining through the palm trees bathes you in an amber light, painting the most beautiful picture you’ve ever seen. luigi being close to you surely made it even better.

the soft light of the pool hit him from underneath just right, highlighting his toned body and his handsome face, peppered with freckles here and there.

sitting next to him by the edge of the pool, your legs dangling in the water, you both laugh about all the dumb stuff you guys did together this past summer.

wearing a stupid grin on his face, he adds

“and remember that time you got so drunk you threw up in the hot tub?” you playfully push his shoulder. “yeah, i’d rather not.” he looks at you, his perfect smile still plastered on his face. “you know, this summer really was great. i’m not just saying that either.” he says.

his smile drops a little when he realizes he’s speaking in the past tense. in that moment, it hits both of you that summer is finally over. it’s early august, and you’ll be back home by the end of the week. you’ll be back in school before you know it, and it’ll be a while before you see each other again, if you even see each other again at all.

the both of you would rather not dampen the mood with that idea, so you talk around it, even though the sadness is heavy in the air. your eyes shift between his face, his mouth, and his little freckles here and there. he looks so beautiful.

“hey, you alright?” he asks tenderly. you place your hand on the middle of his chest and press your lips to his. he parts his lips into the kiss before you pull away. you swore you weren’t going to make tonight sad, but before you know it, the words fall from your lips.

“i’m going to miss you so much,” you say, barely a whisper.

he furrows his thick eyebrows together and looks you in your eyes. you pull your legs out of the water and fully face him.

“i wish things could stay this way forever. it’s only been a couple of months, but you’ve slowly become, like ,one of my favorite people, and it hurts me so bad to know that in another couple of months it’ll be like there was nothing between us at all,”

you were so scared to lose him, and even though he insisted you guys could make long distance work, you knew better. he places his hand on the back of your neck and pulls you into another kiss. he kissed you hard this time, hungrier. as he broke the kiss, he whispered into your lips.

“i care about you so much, and i’d do anything to make this work.” he continued to hold you close, his forehead pressed against yours. the warmth of his breath mingled with the warm night air, and you felt your heart racing.

you wanted to believe him, to trust that somehow you could make this work even with the distance and whatever else came with it. "i know you mean that," you whispered back, your voice catching slightly. "but how? we'll be in different states, different schools. our lives are going in totally separate directions."

he pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "we'll figure it out. i’ll call you every night. i'll visit you on breaks. we can make plans for next summer."

you smiled sadly, wanting so badly to share his optimism. "it won't be the same."

"no," he agreed, "it won't. but that doesn't mean it can't be perfect for now." you ran your hands up his thigh. you’d really rather not get too emotional tonight.

“you’re right, lu. i trust you, so please don’t make me regret it." you looked at his pretty face, his concerned expression. the corners of your lips slightly turned upwards, threatening to curl into a full smile. he sensed your shift in mood and gave you another dumb grin.

“god, look at us getting all sad on vacation,” he said, chuckling lightly.

“we gotta stop.” he adds, smiling.

you look at him, smiling sweetly. he looked so handsome with the sunset casting a warm glow on his features. you traced your fingers along his jawline, savoring the feeling of his skin beneath your touch.

"i love you," you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

luigi's eyes widened for a moment, then softened. he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours. "i love you too," he murmured against your mouth before capturing it in a deep, passionate kiss.

the world seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of his body pressed against yours. your fingers tangled in his curls as his hands roamed your back, pulling you impossibly closer. when you finally broke apart, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours.

"see?" he said with a soft smile. "we've got something special here.

you begin to giggle a little bit.

“no, seriously, we need to make tonight count. this is the last night of a fucking lit summer, and i wanna keep that energy going." he’s also giggling by the time he gets the words out. you study him, his strong jawline, the small freckle on his right cheek, the pronounced bridge of his nose, his perfect teeth framed by his perfect lips.

he looks so hot sitting there, his head slightly tilted back as he laughs. you want to fuck him so badly.

you bite your lip, remembering all the nights you’d shared with him this summer.

without hesitation, you slide onto his lap, straddling him at the edge of the pool.

his laughter fades as he looks up at you, his eyes darkening with want.

"oh yeah?" you say, your voice low and teasing. "and how exactly do you propose we keep that energy going?"

luigi's hands slide up your thighs, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

"i've got a few ideas," he murmurs, pulling you closer.

you grind your hips against his, eliciting a soft groan from him.

"care to demonstrate?" you whisper in his ear, trailing soft kisses down the side of his neck.

“god, you feel so good moving on top of me like that,” he moans as you buck your hips, feeling him harden beneath you. he grips your thighs as you move. he kisses the crook of your neck, the heat from his breath making your whole body shiver.

you run your fingers through his curls and grind down harder. he pulls you in for another deep kiss, and the two of you moan into each other. he feels so fucking good, his dick hardening beneath the thin fabric of his shorts. you want him inside you.

"are we really gonna do this by the pool?" he asks, smiling against your lips.

"god, some things really never change," he adds, beginning to untie your bikini top.

he eagerly removes your skimpy top and begins kissing his way down your neck, stopping to suck and nibble at your collarbone. you throw your head back, giving him better access. his hand reaches up to cup your breast, and you moan as his thumb circles your nipple.

he takes the other in his mouth, and his tongue swirls around it before he sucks hard, drawing a loud gasp from you.

"luigi!" you cry, arching your back. he continues sucking and teasing with his tongue, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. you grind down on him, needing more friction. you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, and you're aching for release.

"please, baby, i need you," you whisper, gasping at the feeling of him kissing your chest.

you feel his cock pressing against you, and you can't wait any longer. you pull his shorts and underwear down just enough, exposing his throbbing cock. you quickly slip off your bottoms and straddle him once again, his tip rubbing against your throbbing clit.

"fuck, lu, you're so big," you moan, taking his length in your hand and stroking him.

"you're so fucking eager," he chuckles smugly, watching as you press his length to your slick entrance and slide his cock deep inside you, inch by inch.

"jesus fuck, baby, you feel so good," you cry, starting to bounce up and down. he grips your hips tightly, guiding your movements.

"so do you," he breathes, thrusting into you. "you're so fucking tight."

you pick up the pace, slamming down onto his cock over and over again. his hands resting on your hips, helping guide you up and down. you can feel him stretching you out with each thrust.

"i'm gonna cum," you whimper, feeling yourself getting closer.

"you're doing so fucking good for me, amore," he groans, thrusting deeper.

you grind down on him, desperate for release.

"fuck, luigi, i'm so close," you gasp, the pleasure building inside you. he feels your slick cunt gripping him so tightly, and he knows he can't last much longer either.

"cum for me," he groans, thrusting harder and faster.

" 's too much, lu!" you whine.

"you've taken worse, baby," he replies, driving himself into you more intensely.

"fuck, luigi," you whimper, overstimulated.

"god yes, amore, cum for me," he moans, his voice deep and husky.

you can't hold back any longer. you cum hard, your body shaking with pleasure. he feels your walls clenching around him, and he can't hold back anymore. with a loud moan, he spills himself inside you, filling you with his warm cum.

"fuck," you both groan, collapsing into each other.

the two of you lay there for a while, trying to catch your breath. you can't help but smile as the euphoric waves crash over you. he kisses your cheek softly.

"so, was that enough to keep the energy going?" he asks, a smile spreading across his face.

you can't help but laugh. "god, i love you," you say, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"i love you too."

"i'm going to miss you so much, amore," he says, holding you close.

"i'm gonna miss you too, luigi," you say, wrapping your arms around him.

[irl-batsignal]

The Bee Movie.

According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly. Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground. The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what humans think is impossible. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little. Barry! Breakfast is ready! Coming! Hang on a second. Hello? - Barry? - Adam? - Can you believe this is happening? - I can't. I'll pick you up. Looking sharp. Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those. Sorry. I'm excited. Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son. A perfect report card, all B's. Very proud. Ma! I got a thing going here. - You got lint on your fuzz. - Ow! That's me! - Wave to us! We'll be in row 118,000. - Bye! Barry, I told you, stop flying in the house! - Hey, Adam. - Hey, Barry. - Is that fuzz gel? - A little. Special day, graduation. Never thought I'd make it. Three days grade school, three days high school. Those were awkward. Three days college. I'm glad I took a day and hitchhiked around the hive. You did come back different. - Hi, Barry. - Artie, growing a mustache? Looks good. - Hear about Frankie? - Yeah. - You going to the funeral? - No, I'm not going. Everybody knows, sting someone, you die. Don't waste it on a squirrel. Such a hothead. I guess he could have just gotten out of the way. I love this incorporating an amusement park into our day. That's why we don't need vacations. Boy, quite a bit of pomp... under the circumstances. - Well, Adam, today we are men. - We are! - Bee-men. - Amen! Hallelujah! Students, faculty, distinguished bees, please welcome Dean Buzzwell. Welcome, New Hive City graduating class of... ...9:15. That concludes our ceremonies. And begins your career at Honex Industries! Will we pick our job today? I heard it's just orientation. Heads up! Here we go. Keep your hands and antennas inside the tram at all times. - Wonder what it'll be like? - A little scary. Welcome to Honex, a division of Honesco and a part of the Hexagon Group. This is it! Wow. Wow. We know that you, as a bee, have worked your whole life to get to the point where you can work for your whole life. Honey begins when our valiant Pollen Jocks bring the nectar to the hive. Our top-secret formula is automatically color-corrected, scent-adjusted and bubble-contoured into this soothing sweet syrup with its distinctive golden glow you know as... Honey! -

That girl was hot. - She's my cousin! - She is? - Yes, we're all cousins. - Right. You're right. - At Honex, we constantly strive to improve every aspect of bee existence. These bees are stress-testing a new helmet technology. - What do you think he makes? - Not enough. Here we have our latest advancement, the Krelman. - What does that do? - Catches that little strand of honey that hangs after you pour it. Saves us millions. Can anyone work on the Krelman? Of course. Most bee jobs are small ones. But bees know that every small job, if it's done well, means a lot. But choose carefully because you'll stay in the job you pick for the rest of your life. The same job the rest of your life? I didn't know that. What's the difference? You'll be happy to know that bees, as a species, haven't had one day off in 27 million years. So you'll just work us to death? We'll sure try. Wow! That blew my mind! "What's the difference?" How can you say that? One job forever? That's an insane choice to have to make. I'm relieved. Now we only have to make one decision in life. But, Adam, how could they never have told us that? Why would you question anything? We're bees. We're the most perfectly functioning society on Earth. You ever think maybe things work a little too well here? Like what? Give me one example. I don't know. But you know what I'm talking about. Please clear the gate. Royal Nectar Force on approach. Wait a second. Check it out. - Hey, those are Pollen Jocks! - Wow. I've never seen them this close. They know what it's like outside the hive. Yeah, but some don't come back. - Hey, Jocks! - Hi, Jocks! You guys did great! You're monsters! You're sky freaks! I love it! I love it! - I wonder where they were. - I don't know. Their day's not planned. Outside the hive, flying who knows where, doing who knows what. You can't just decide to be a Pollen Jock. You have to be bred for that. Right. Look. That's more pollen than you and I will see in a lifetime. It's just a status symbol. Bees make too much of it. Perhaps. Unless you're wearing it and the ladies see you wearing it.

Those ladies? Aren't they our cousins too? Distant. Distant. Look at these two. - Couple of Hive Harrys. - Let's have fun with them. It must be dangerous being a Pollen Jock. Yeah. Once a bear pinned me against a mushroom! He had a paw on my throat, and with the other, he was slapping me! - Oh, my! - I never thought I'd knock him out. What were you doing during this? Trying to alert the authorities. I can autograph that. A little gusty out there today, wasn't it, comrades? Yeah. Gusty. We're hitting a sunflower patch six miles from here tomorrow. - Six miles, huh? - Barry! A puddle jump for us, but maybe you're not up for it. - Maybe I am. - You are not! We're going 0900 at J-Gate. What do you think, buzzy-boy? Are you bee enough? I might be. It all depends on what 0900 means. Hey, Honex! Dad, you surprised me. You decide what you're interested in? - Well, there's a lot of choices. - But you only get one. Do you ever get bored doing the same job every day? Son, let me tell you about stirring. You grab that stick, and you just move it around, and you stir it around. You get yourself into a rhythm. It's a beautiful thing. You know, Dad, the more I think about it, maybe the honey field just isn't right for me. You were thinking of what, making balloon animals? That's a bad job for a guy with a stinger. Janet, your son's not sure he wants to go into honey! - Barry, you are so funny sometimes. - I'm not trying to be funny. You're not funny! You're going into honey. Our son, the stirrer! - You're gonna be a stirrer? - No one's listening to me! Wait till you see the sticks I have. I could say anything right now. I'm gonna get an ant tattoo! Let's open some honey and celebrate! Maybe I'll pierce my thorax. Shave my antennae. Shack up with a grasshopper. Get a gold tooth and call everybody "dawg"! I'm so proud. - We're starting work today! - Today's the day. Come on! All the good jobs will be gone. Yeah, right. Pollen counting, stunt bee, pouring, stirrer, front desk, hair removal... - Is it still available? - Hang on. Two left! One of them's yours! Congratulations! Step to the side. - What'd you get? - Picking crud out. Stellar! Wow! Oouple of newbies? Yes, sir! Our first day! We are ready! Make your choice. - You want to go first? - No, you go. Oh, my. What's available? Restroom attendant's open, not for the reason you think. - Any chance of getting the Krelman? - Sure, you're on. I'm sorry, the Krelman just closed out. Wax monkey's always open. The Krelman opened up again. What happened? A bee died. Makes an opening.

See? He's dead. Another dead one. Deady. Deadified. Two more dead. Dead from the neck up. Dead from the neck down. That's life! Oh, this is so hard! Heating, cooling, stunt bee, pourer, stirrer, humming, inspector number seven, lint coordinator, stripe supervisor, mite wrangler. Barry, what do you think I should... Barry? Barry! All right, we've got the sunflower patch in quadrant nine... What happened to you? Where are you? - I'm going out. - Out? Out where? - Out there. - Oh, no! I have to, before I go to work for the rest of my life. You're gonna die! You're crazy! Hello? Another call coming in. If anyone's feeling brave, there's a Korean deli on 83rd that gets their roses today. Hey, guys. - Look at that. - Isn't that the kid we saw yesterday? Hold it, son, flight deck's restricted. It's OK, Lou. We're gonna take him up. Really? Feeling lucky, are you? Sign here, here. Just initial that. - Thank you. - OK. You got a rain advisory today, and as you all know, bees cannot fly in rain. So be careful. As always, watch your brooms, hockey sticks, dogs, birds, bears and bats. Also, I got a couple of reports of root beer being poured on us. Murphy's in a home because of it, babbling like a cicada! - That's awful. - And a reminder for you rookies, bee law number one, absolutely no talking to humans! All right, launch positions! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Buzz, buzz, buzz, buzz! Black and yellow! Hello! You ready for this, hot shot? Yeah. Yeah, bring it on. Wind, check. - Antennae, check. - Nectar pack, check. - Wings, check. - Stinger, check. Scared out of my shorts, check. OK, ladies, let's move it out! Pound those petunias, you striped stem-suckers! All of you, drain those flowers! Wow! I'm out! I can't believe I'm out! So blue. I feel so fast and free! Box kite! Wow! Flowers! This is Blue Leader. We have roses visual. Bring it around 30 degrees and hold. Roses! 30 degrees, roger. Bringing it around. Stand to the side, kid. It's got a bit of a kick.

That is one nectar collector! - Ever see pollination up close? - No, sir. I pick up some pollen here, sprinkle it over here. Maybe a dash over there, a pinch on that one. See that? It's a little bit of magic. That's amazing. Why do we do that? That's pollen power. More pollen, more flowers, more nectar, more honey for us. Cool. I'm picking up a lot of bright yellow. Could be daisies. Don't we need those? Copy that visual. Wait. One of these flowers seems to be on the move. Say again? You're reporting a moving flower? Affirmative. That was on the line! This is the coolest. What is it? I don't know, but I'm loving this color. It smells good. Not like a flower, but I like it. Yeah, fuzzy. Chemical-y. Careful, guys. It's a little grabby. My sweet lord of bees! Candy-brain, get off there! Problem! - Guys! - This could be bad. Affirmative. Very close. Gonna hurt. Mama's little boy. You are way out of position, rookie! Coming in at you like a missile! Help me! I don't think these are flowers. - Should we tell him? - I think he knows. What is this?! Match point! You can start packing up, honey, because you're about to eat it! Yowser! Gross. There's a bee in the car! - Do something! - I'm driving! - Hi, bee. - He's back here! He's going to sting me! Nobody move. If you don't move, he won't sting you. Freeze! He blinked! Spray him, Granny!

What are you doing?! Wow... the tension level out here is unbelievable. I gotta get home. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. Can't fly in rain. Mayday! Mayday! Bee going down! Ken, could you close the window please? Ken, could you close the window please? Check out my new resume. I made it into a fold-out brochure. You see? Folds out. Oh, no. More humans. I don't need this. What was that? Maybe this time. This time. This time. This time! This time! This... Drapes! That is diabolical. It's fantastic. It's got all my special skills, even my top-ten favorite movies. What's number one? Star Wars? Nah, I don't go for that... ...kind of stuff. No wonder we shouldn't talk to them. They're out of their minds. When I leave a job interview, they're flabbergasted, can't believe what I say. There's the sun. Maybe that's a way out. I don't remember the sun having a big 75 on it. I predicted global warming. I could feel it getting hotter. At first I thought it was just me. Wait! Stop! Bee! Stand back. These are winter boots. Wait! Don't kill him! You know I'm allergic to them! This thing could kill me! Why does his life have less value than yours? Why does his life have any less value than mine? Is that your statement? I'm just saying all life has value. You don't know what he's capable of feeling. My brochure! There you go, little guy. I'm not scared of him. It's an allergic thing. Put that on your resume brochure. My whole face could puff up. Make it one of your special skills. Knocking someone out is also a special skill. Right. Bye, Vanessa. Thanks. - Vanessa, next week? Yogurt night? - Sure, Ken. You know, whatever. - You could put carob chips on there. - Bye. - Supposed to be less calories. - Bye. I gotta say something. She saved my life. I gotta say something. All right, here it goes. Nah. What would I say? I could really get in trouble. It's a bee law. You're not supposed to talk to a human. I can't believe I'm doing this. I've got to. Oh, I can't do it. Come on! No. Yes. No. Do it. I can't. How should I start it? "You like jazz?" No, that's no good. Here she comes! Speak, you fool! Hi! I'm sorry. - You're talking. - Yes, I know. You're talking! I'm so sorry. No, it's OK. It's fine. I know I'm dreaming. But I don't recall going to bed. Well, I'm sure this is very disconcerting. This is a bit of a surprise to me. I mean, you're a bee! I am. And I'm not supposed to be doing this, but they were all trying to kill me. And if it wasn't for you... I had to thank you. It's just how I was raised. 

That was a little weird. - I'm talking with a bee. - Yeah. I'm talking to a bee. And the bee is talking to me! I just want to say I'm grateful. I'll leave now. - Wait! How did you learn to do that? - What? The talking thing. Same way you did, I guess. "Mama, Dada, honey." You pick it up. - That's very funny. - Yeah. Bees are funny. If we didn't laugh, we'd cry with what we have to deal with. Anyway... Can I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. Coffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Come on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're flying up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a bee joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Barry? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the hive, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is flowers. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my hive right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow! Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Can I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Barry. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. Humans! I can't believe you were with humans! Giant, scary humans! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out your job and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she Bee-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... human. No, no. That's a bee law. You wouldn't break a bee law. - Her name's Vanessa. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a human florist! We're not dating.

You're flying outside the hive, talking to humans that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Cinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them! Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. Thinking bee! - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Barry? I gotta start thinking bee? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a bee! Would it kill you to make a little honey? Barry, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Barry, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Vanessa! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's Bee-ish. They have a huge parade of flowers every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by flowers, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't fly everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my. Dumb bees! You must want to sting all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Cute Bee, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - Bees make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just honey, Barry. Just what?! Bees don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taken our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. -

You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice honey out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset bees! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana, Ignacio! Where is the honey coming from? Tell me where! Honey Farms! It comes from Honey Farms! Crazy person! What horrible thing has happened here? These faces, they never knew what hit them. And now they're on the road to nowhere! Just keep still. What? You're not dead? Do I look dead? They will wipe anything that moves. Where you headed? To Honey Farms. I am onto something huge here. I'm going to Alaska. Moose blood, crazy stuff. Blows your head off! I'm going to Tacoma. - And you? - He really is dead. All right. Uh-oh! - What is that?! - Oh, no! - A wiper! Triple blade! - Triple blade? Jump on! It's your only chance, bee! Why does everything have to be so doggone clean?! How much do you people need to see?! Open your eyes! Stick your head out the window! From NPR News in Washington, I'm Carl Kasell. But don't kill no more bugs! - Bee! - Moose blood guy!! - You hear something? - Like what? Like tiny screaming. Turn off the radio. Whassup, bee boy? Hey, Blood. Just a row of honey jars, as far as the eye could see. Wow! I assume wherever this truck goes is where they're getting it. I mean, that honey's ours. - Bees hang tight. - We're all jammed in. It's a close community. Not us, man. We on our own. Every mosquito on his own. - What if you get in trouble? - You a mosquito, you in trouble. Nobody likes us. They just smack. See a mosquito, smack, smack! At least you're out in the world. You must meet girls. Mosquito girls try to trade up, get with a moth, dragonfly. Mosquito girl don't want no mosquito. You got to be kidding me! Mooseblood's about to leave the building! So long, bee! - Hey, guys! - Mooseblood! I knew I'd catch y'all down here. Did you bring your crazy straw? We throw it in jars, slap a label on it, and it's pretty much pure profit. What is this place? A bee's got a brain the size of a pinhead. They are pinheads!

Pinhead. –Check out the new smoker. - Oh, sweet. That's the one you want. The Thomas 3000! Smoker? Ninety puffs a minute, semi-automatic. Twice the nicotine, all the tar. A couple breaths of this knocks them right out. They make the honey, and we make the money. "They make the honey, and we make the money"? Oh, my! What's going on? Are you OK? Yeah. It doesn't last too long. Do you know you're in a fake hive with fake walls? Our queen was moved here. We had no choice. This is your queen? That's a man in women's clothes! That's a drag queen! What is this? Oh, no! There's hundreds of them! Bee honey. Our honey is being brazenly stolen on a massive scale! This is worse than anything bears have done! I intend to do something. Oh, Barry, stop. Who told you humans are taking our honey? That's a rumor. Do these look like rumors? That's a conspiracy theory. These are obviously doctored photos. How did you get mixed up in this? He's been talking to humans. - What? - Talking to humans?! He has a human girlfriend. And they make out! Make out? Barry! We do not. - You wish you could. - Whose side are you on? The bees! I dated a cricket once in San Antonio. Those crazy legs kept me up all night. Barry, this is what you want to do with your life? I want to do it for all our lives. Nobody works harder than bees! Dad, I remember you coming home so overworked your hands were still stirring. You couldn't stop. I remember that. What right do they have to our honey? We live on two cups a year. They put it in lip balm for no reason whatsoever! Even if it's true, what can one bee do? Sting them where it really hurts. In the face! The eye! - That would hurt. - No. Up the nose? That's a killer. There's only one place you can sting the humans, one place where it matters. Hive at Five, the hive's only full-hour action news source. No more bee beards! With Bob Bumble at the anchor desk. Weather with Storm Stinger. Sports with Buzz Larvi. And Jeanette Chung. - Good evening. I'm Bob Bumble. - And I'm Jeanette Chung. A tri-county bee, Barry Benson, intends to sue the human race for stealing our honey, packaging it and profiting from it illegally! Tomorrow night on Bee Larry King, we'll have three former queens here in our studio, discussing their new book, Classy Ladies, out this week on Hexagon. Tonight we're talking to Barry Benson. Did you ever think, "I'm a kid from the hive. I can't do this"? Bees have never been afraid to change the world. What about Bee Columbus? Bee Gandhi? Bejesus? Where I'm from, we'd never sue humans. We were thinking of stickball or candy stores. How old are you? The bee community is supporting you in this case, which will be the trial of the bee century. You know, they have a Larry King in the human world too. It's a common name. Next week... He looks like you and has a show and suspenders and colored dots... Next week... Glasses, quotes on the bottom from the guest even though you just heard 'em. Bear Week next week! They're scary, hairy and here live. Always leans forward, pointy shoulders, squinty eyes, very Jewish. In tennis, you attack at the point of weakness! It was my grandmother, Ken. She's 81. Honey, her backhand's a joke! I'm not gonna take advantage of that? Quiet, please. Actual work going on here.

Is that that same bee? - Yes, it is! I'm helping him sue the human race. - Hello. - Hello, bee. This is Ken. Yeah, I remember you. Timberland, size ten and a half. Vibram sole, I believe. Why does he talk again? Listen, you better go 'cause we're really busy working. But it's our yogurt night! Bye-bye. Why is yogurt night so difficult?! You poor thing. You two have been at this for hours! Yes, and Adam here has been a huge help. - Frosting... - How many sugars? Just one. I try not to use the competition. So why are you helping me? Bees have good qualities. And it takes my mind off the shop. Instead of flowers, people are giving balloon bouquets now. Those are great, if you're three. And artificial flowers. - Oh, those just get me psychotic! - Yeah, me too. Bent stingers, pointless pollination. Bees must hate those fake things! Nothing worse than a daffodil that's had work done. Maybe this could make up for it a little bit. - This lawsuit's a pretty big deal. - I guess. You sure you want to go through with it? Am I sure? When I'm done with the humans, they won't be able to say, "Honey, I'm home," without paying a royalty! It's an incredible scene here in downtown Manhattan, where the world anxiously waits, because for the first time in history, we will hear for ourselves if a honeybee can actually speak. What have we gotten into here, Barry? It's pretty big, isn't it? I can't believe how many humans don't work during the day. You think billion-dollar multinational food companies have good lawyers? Everybody needs to stay behind the barricade. - What's the matter? - I don't know, I just got a chill. Well, if it isn't the bee team. You boys work on this? All rise! The Honorable Judge Bumbleton presiding. All right. Case number 4475, Superior Court of New York, Barry Bee Benson v. the Honey Industry is now in session. Mr. Montgomery, you're representing the five food companies collectively? A privilege. Mr. Benson... you're representing all the bees of the world? I'm kidding. Yes, Your Honor, we're ready to proceed. Mr. Montgomery, your opening statement, please. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, my grandmother was a simple woman. Born on a farm, she believed it was man's divine right to benefit from the bounty of nature God put before us. If we lived in the topsy-turvy world Mr. Benson imagines, just think of what would it mean. I would have to negotiate with the silkworm for the elastic in my britches! Talking bee! How do we know this isn't some sort of holographic motion-picture-capture Hollywood wizardry?

They could be using laser beams! Robotics! Ventriloquism! Cloning! For all we know, he could be on steroids! Mr. Benson? Ladies and gentlemen, there's no trickery here. I'm just an ordinary bee. Honey's pretty important to me. It's important to all bees. We invented it! We make it. And we protect it with our lives. Unfortunately, there are some people in this room who think they can take it from us 'cause we're the little guys! I'm hoping that, after this is all over, you'll see how, by taking our honey, you not only take everything we have but everything we are! I wish he'd dress like that all the time. So nice! Call your first witness. So, Mr. Klauss Vanderhayden of Honey Farms, big company you have. I suppose so. I see you also own Honeyburton and Honron! Yes, they provide beekeepers for our farms. Beekeeper. I find that to be a very disturbing term. I don't imagine you employ any bee-free-ers, do you? - No. - I couldn't hear you. - No. - No. Because you don't free bees. You keep bees. Not only that, it seems you thought a bear would be an appropriate image for a jar of honey. They're very lovable creatures. Yogi Bear, Fozzie Bear, Build-A-Bear. You mean like this? Bears kill bees! How'd you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him away. So, Mr. Sting, thank you for being here. Your name intrigues me. - Where have I heard it before? - I was with a band called The Police. But you've never been a police officer, have you? No, I haven't. No, you haven't. And so here we have yet another example of bee culture casually stolen by a human for nothing more than a prance-about stage name. Oh, please. Have you ever been stung, Mr. Sting? Because I'm feeling a little stung, Sting. Or should I say... Mr. Gordon M. Sumner! That's not his real name?! You idiots! Mr. Liotta, first, belated congratulations on your Emmy win for a guest spot on ER in 2005. Thank you. Thank you. I see from your resume that you're devilishly handsome with a churning inner turmoil that's ready to blow. I enjoy what I do. Is that a crime? Not yet it isn't. But is this what it's come to for you? Exploiting tiny, helpless bees so you don't have to rehearse your part and learn your lines, sir? Watch it, Benson! I could blow right now! This isn't a goodfella. This is a badfella! Why doesn't someone just step on this creep, and we can all go home?! - Order in this court! - You're all thinking it! Order! Order, I say! - Say it! - Mr. Liotta, please sit down! I think it was awfully nice of that bear to pitch in like that. I think the jury's on our side. Are we doing everything right, legally? I'm a florist. Right. Well, here's to a great team. To a great team! Well, hello. - Ken! - Hello. I didn't think you were coming. No, I was just late. I tried to call, but... the battery. I didn't want all this to go to waste, so I called Barry. Luckily, he was free. Oh, that was lucky. There's a little left. I could heat it up. Yeah, heat it up, sure, whatever. So I hear you're quite a tennis player. I'm not much for the game myself. The ball's a little grabby. That's where I usually sit. Right... there. Ken, Barry was looking at your resume, and he agreed with me that eating with chopsticks isn't really a special skill. You think I don't see what you're doing? I know how hard it is to find the right job. We have that in common. Do we? Bees have 100 percent employment, but we do jobs like taking the crud out. That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - 

What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Chapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins!

I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Adam, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Could you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. Bees don't smoke. Right. Bees don't smoke. Bees don't smoke! But some bees are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. Bees are trained to fly haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taken up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion. But you can't! We have a terrific case. Where is your proof? Where is the evidence? Show me the smoking gun! Hold it, Your Honor! You want a smoking gun? Here is your smoking gun. What is that? It's a bee smoker! What, this? This harmless little contraption? This couldn't hurt a fly, let alone a bee. Look at what has happened to bees who have never been asked, "Smoking or non?" Is this what nature intended for us? To be forcibly addicted to smoke machines and man-made wooden slat work camps? Living out our lives as honey slaves to the white man? - 

What are we gonna do? - He's playing the species card. Ladies and gentlemen, please, free these bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! Free the bees! The court finds in favor of the bees! Vanessa, we won! I knew you could do it! High-five! Sorry. I'm OK! You know what this means? All the honey will finally belong to the bees. Now we won't have to work so hard all the time. This is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, Benson. You'll regret this. Barry, how much honey is out there? All right. One at a time. Barry, who are you wearing? My sweater is Ralph Lauren, and I have no pants. - What if Montgomery's right? - What do you mean? We've been living the bee way a long time, 27 million years. Congratulations on your victory. What will you demand as a settlement? First, we'll demand a complete shutdown of all bee work camps. Then we want back the honey that was ours to begin with, every last drop. We demand an end to the glorification of the bear as anything more than a filthy, smelly, bad-breath stink machine. We're all aware of what they do in the woods. Wait for my signal. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a few hours, then he'll be fine. And we will no longer tolerate bee-negative nicknames... But it's just a prance-about stage name! ...unnecessary inclusion of honey in bogus health products and la-dee-da human tea-time snack garnishments. Can't breathe. Bring it in, boys! Hold it right there! Good. Tap it. Mr. Buzzwell, we just passed three cups, and there's gallons more coming! - I think we need to shut down! - Shut down? We've never shut down. Shut down honey production! Stop making honey! Turn your key, sir! What do we do now? Cannonball! We're shutting honey production! Mission abort. Aborting pollination and nectar detail. Returning to base. Adam, you wouldn't believe how much honey was out there. Oh, yeah? What's going on? Where is everybody? - Are they out celebrating? - They're home. They don't know what to do. Laying out, sleeping in. I heard your Uncle Carl was on his way to San Antonio with a cricket. At least we got our honey back. Sometimes I think, so what if humans liked our honey? Who wouldn't? It's the greatest thing in the world! I was excited to be part of making it. This was my new desk. This was my new job. I wanted to do it really well. And now... Now I can't. I don't understand why they're not happy. I thought their lives would be better! They're doing nothing. It's amazing. Honey really changes people. You don't have any idea what's going on, do you? - What did you want to show me? - This. What happened here? That is not the half of it. Oh, no. Oh, my. They're all wilting. Doesn't look very good, does it? No. And whose fault do you think that is? You know, I'm gonna guess bees. Bees? Specifically, me. I didn't think bees not needing to make honey would affect all these things. It's not just flowers. Fruits, vegetables, they all need bees.

That's our whole SAT test right there. Take away produce, that affects the entire animal kingdom. And then, of course... The human species? So if there's no more pollination, it could all just go south here, couldn't it? I know this is also partly my fault. How about a suicide pact? How do we do it? - I'll sting you, you step on me. – That just kills you twice. Right, right. Listen, Barry... sorry, but I gotta get going. I had to open my mouth and talk. Vanessa? Vanessa? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? To the final Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena. They've moved it to this weekend because all the flowers are dying. It's the last chance I'll ever have to see it. Vanessa, I just wanna say I'm sorry. I never meant it to turn out like this. I know. Me neither. Tournament of Roses. Roses can't do sports. Wait a minute. Roses. Roses? Roses! Vanessa! Roses?! Barry? - Roses are flowers! - Yes, they are. Flowers, bees, pollen! I know. That's why this is the last parade. Maybe not. Could you ask him to slow down? Could you slow down? Barry! OK, I made a huge mistake. This is a total disaster, all my fault. Yes, it kind of is. I've ruined the planet. I wanted to help you with the flower shop. I've made it worse. Actually, it's completely closed down. I thought maybe you were remodeling. But I have another idea, and it's greater than my previous ideas combined. I don't want to hear it! All right, they have the roses, the roses have the pollen. I know every bee, plant and flower bud in this park. All we gotta do is get what they've got back here with what we've got. - Bees. - Park. - Pollen! - Flowers. - Repollination! - Across the nation! Tournament of Roses, Pasadena, California. They've got nothing but flowers, floats and cotton candy. Security will be tight. I have an idea. Vanessa Bloome, FTD. Official floral business. It's real. Sorry, ma'am. Nice brooch. Thank you. It was a gift. Once inside, we just pick the right float. How about The Princess and the Pea? I could be the princess, and you could be the pea! Yes, I got it. - Where should I sit? - What are you? - I believe I'm the pea. - The pea? It goes under the mattresses. - Not in this fairy tale, sweetheart. - I'm getting the marshal. You do that! This whole parade is a fiasco! Let's see what this baby'll do. Hey, what are you doing?! Then all we do is blend in with traffic... ...without arousing suspicion. Once at the airport, there's no stopping us. Stop! Security. - You and your insect pack your float? - Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - 

Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Can you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Captain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Can I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Captain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out!

Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Come on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello? Benson, got any flowers for a happy occasion in there? The Pollen Jocks! They do get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow. - Hello. All right, let's drop this tin can on the blacktop. Where? I can't see anything. Can you? No, nothing. It's all cloudy. Come on. You got to think bee, Barry. - Thinking bee. - Thinking bee. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Wait a minute. I think I'm feeling something. - What? - I don't know. It's strong, pulling me. Like a 27-million-year-old instinct. Bring the nose down. Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - What in the world is on the tarmac? - Get some lights on that! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! Thinking bee! - Vanessa, aim for the flower. - OK. Out the engines. We're going in on bee power. Ready, boys? Affirmative! Good. Good. Easy, now. That's it. Land on that flower! Ready? Full reverse! Spin it around! - Not that flower! The other one! - Which one? - That flower. - I'm aiming at the flower! That's a fat guy in a flowered shirt. I mean the giant pulsating flower made of millions of bees! Pull forward. Nose down. Tail up. Rotate around it. - This is insane, Barry! - This's the only way I know how to fly. Am I koo-koo-kachoo, or is this plane flying in an insect-like pattern? Get your nose in there. Don't be afraid. Smell it. Full reverse! Just drop it. Be a part of it. Aim for the center! Now drop it in! Drop it in, woman! Come on, already. Barry, we did it! You taught me how to fly! - Yes. No high-five! - Right. Barry, it worked! Did you see the giant flower? What giant flower? Where? Of course I saw the flower! That was genius! - 

Thank you. - But we're not done yet. Listen, everyone! This runway is covered with the last pollen from the last flowers available anywhere on Earth. That means this is our last chance. We're the only ones who make honey, pollinate flowers and dress like this. If we're gonna survive as a species, this is our moment! What do you say? Are we going to be bees, or just Museum of Natural History keychains? We're bees! Keychain! Then follow me! Except Keychain. Hold on, Barry. Here. You've earned this. Yeah! I'm a Pollen Jock! And it's a perfect fit. All I gotta do are the sleeves. Oh, yeah. That's our Barry. Mom! The bees are back! If anybody needs to make a call, now's the time. I got a feeling we'll be working late tonight! Here's your change. Have a great afternoon! Can I help who's next? Would you like some honey with that? It is bee-approved. Don't forget these. Milk, cream, cheese, it's all me. And I don't see a nickel! Sometimes I just feel like a piece of meat! I had no idea. Barry, I'm sorry. Have you got a moment? Would you excuse me? My mosquito associate will help you. Sorry I'm late. He's a lawyer too? I was already a blood-sucking parasite. All I needed was a briefcase. Have a great afternoon! Barry, I just got this huge tulip order, and I can't get them anywhere. No problem, Vannie. Just leave it to me. You're a lifesaver, Barry. Can I help who's next? All right, scramble, jocks! It's time to fly. Thank you, Barry! That bee is living my life! Let it go, Kenny. - When will this nightmare end?! - Let it all go. - Beautiful day to fly. - Sure is. Between you and me, I was dying to get out of that office. You have got to start thinking bee, my friend. - Thinking bee! - Me? Hold it. Let's just stop for a second. Hold it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, everyone. Can we stop here? I'm not making a major life decision during a production number! All right. Take ten, everybody. Wrap it up, guys. I had virtually no rehearsal for that.

[numberonetacostan]

I remember reading a headcanon once where the contestants can only be programed to know the emotions that Mephone knows (not he unable to feel them, just knowing what they are when they do feel them) and romantic love was brought up (as well as the other not platonic kind but we don't need to get into that) but basically they'd be on their own to figure out what it was (with the theme of this blog it's kind of inevitable this gets related to tacopad/Tacomic, although more tacomic here tbh because Mepad could probably just pull up the dictionary definition or something, if that would even help I'm not exactly sure)

Hello!!!^^ Welcome, and thank you for sending in an ask!!! :] I am unfortunately having a bit of trouble reading the first part, so I apologize if I get anything mixed up.

The contestants learning about romantic love on their own is a super sweet idea actually?? We see in canon that payjay are already figuring it out, and it's interesting to note that our first canon couple consists of a season 1 exclusive character and a season 1 + 4th s3 boot who didn't stay on indefinite island. It's almost as if the game gets in the way of the contestants forming healthy, loving relationships. Weird.

But yes, the contestants would be on their own for learning about and navigating romantic love!! There will be a lot of self-discovery going on post-canon, and this would fit right in!! I'll write a bit about Tacomic and Tacopad since you mentioned them, but I actually don't mind talking about other characters or ships at all!!!^^ I love every ii character, other than maybe Salt, but then I feel bad about leaving her out so. Taco just happens to be my favorite :).

SO Tacomic would uh stumble and fumble around a lot I think. They're still working on their friendship at first, Taco has a lot to learn, and she's currently grieving Mepad. Mic still has growing to do too, even if she's gotten better and grown since s2 episode 14, yeah? I think it gets easier as things go on for them. Taco always has her little crush on Mic, but it's Taco she is shoving those feelings as far down as she can, because she doesn't want to lose Mic again. It would be when Mic's falling for Taco that things would really be getting started, because I think Mic seeing Taco changing and working so hard to be better because Mic is so important to her might make Mic's heart explode one day and she realizes oh she wants Taco. She probably had some feelings during their partnership, but that dynamic wasn't as healthy or strong in it's emotional connection, so Mic ends up falling again later on.

TACOPAD!!! Uh neither of them are too incredible with their own emotions. I mean, Taco is just bad with feelings in general, but Mepad is a pretty great therapist, yeah? But it's important to keep in mind how his emotional range and intensity has changed since the beginning of season 2. He's been watching the contestants all along, learning about feelings from Toilet, but his own are an entire other ballpark!! And we see how intense these feelings are, he loves all the contestants so much that he died for them. And intense feelings can be a lot for a guy who used to feeling very little at all!!! I am a Tacopad learning about feelings together truther actually. Mepad helps Taco to manage hers and express them in a healthy way and Taco makes Mepad feel a whole hell of a lot and helps him learn to communicate his at all!! I have so much to say about Tacopad. I can't believe we only got four months of it instead of four years as god intended based on the old season 2 upload schedule. I have so many feelings about them!!!!!

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 44

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*Mumbo's pov*

Mother Spore being silent is not new, that's one of her defining traits together with being uncanny and weirdly ominous constantly. Yet, there's is a difference between creepy silent and bored silent and despite this being probably one of the most important meetings you have been called to she definitely looks bored.

It's not like obvious or exaggerated or anything like that but it's definitely visible, the only reason Quackity doesn't have seemed to notice is because of the heated debate going on between him and Xonorth.

You don't exactly blame her either, you tio would also be bored to the point of sleep after so long of listening to Xonorth and Quackity discus matters that don't have any worth outside of petty grudges if you weren't panicking internally the whole time. But you can't be bored because you are panicking and for good reason and she clearly isn't.

That's the worrying part, these are all extremely powerful villains and most of them have no problems with killin and she doesn't even seem on edge, not even slightly.

Is she on something? Did Quackity spike her drink to leave you defenseless? He's done it before to others so it wouldn't be out of character for him. No, you look at her glass and she hasn't drunk anything yet, she has not touched it once.

Is she just so foolish to believe that she can just fight and defeat all of them should something go wrong? Defeat not only the villains here but also the rest of the people working for Quackity in this establishment?

Is she ...pretending? As a tactic to lower their guards? Or make them back off? Or something of that caliber? That could make sense you reckon, she has always been the impassive type so it wouldn't be too hard to believe this somewhat clear emotional reaction is some kind of well made fabrication to manipulate the others. You still don't get why she would do that to begin with though.

Is she just...truly strong enough to defeat them all? You haven't seen her ever use her powers to the fullest and... that's a worrying thought you do not wish to engage with. You haven't forgot the way the slime guy did not recognize where she came from and just seemed to blank on her.

...

You decide to stick with it being a minipulation tactic of some kind, for your own sanity and peace of mind.

She coughs, a fake and loud one, everyone turns to stare at her and she just smirks...you feel like your soul is about to leave your body. What is she thinking!?? You are going to die and It's going to be her fault.

She gets up and you whisper to her.

"Mother Spore!"

"..."

"What do you think you are doing???"

"..."

She turns to you, eyes glowing violet through her veil and the sinister smirk still on her face.

"I got bored"

Oh. Oh no no no. You don't like this, nope.