#finesse challenge | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

secretmaniacc · 30 days ago

Text

RIDE OR DIE

Parings: The salesman x Fem!oc

Summary: Two fierce recruiters, locked in a heated rivalry over who can secure the most players, strike an unusual deal: whoever wins the next recruit gets to drag the other out to dinner. But when tempers flare and egos clash, their “game” turns into a battle of wits, slaps, and simmering tension. What starts as a simple challenge spirals into something far more unpredictable—because in their world, nothing ever goes as planned.

Warnings: slow burn, language, violence, dom!salesman x baddie oc, teasing, work rivals, kissing, fingering sex, mentions of blood, slapping, maybe something else that I don’t remember.

Wc: 5.4k

A/n: this is my first post and idk how do you use tumblr and I can’t even add warnings cuz idk what should I warn about but I hope y’all can enjoy wtv the hell I wrote, English isn’t my first language so no attacking. Not proofread. This is so bad ik.

The dimly lit café hummed with quiet chatter, the occasional clatter of cups breaking the tension in the air. She adjusted her sunglasses, a sly smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she leaned forward, her fingers tapping softly against the edge of the table. The man seated across from her was sweating through his cheap dress shirt, his eyes darting nervously to the plain white envelope she'd slid toward him just moments ago.

"Inside that envelope," she began, her voice calm but charged with intent, "is the answer to all your problems. Every overdue bill, every phone call you're dodging, every sleepless night. All gone."

He hesitated, staring at the envelope like it might bite him. "I don't know... I mean, this doesn't sound—"

"—legal?" she finished for him, leaning back casually. She tilted her head, the smirk widening. "You'd be right. It's not. But when has that ever stopped you before?"

His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. Bingo, she thought, watching him flounder. That reaction told her everything she needed to know.

"Think about it," she pressed, her voice dropping an octave, almost a whisper. "A few games. A few hours. And then you walk away with enough money to start fresh. No more debt. No more hiding."

He reached for the envelope, his hand trembling. But just as his fingertips brushed the edge of it—

A familiar voice cut through the air. "Amateur move, don't you think?"

Her eyes narrowed behind her sunglasses. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Only one person could manage to sound both smug and bored in the same sentence.

"Go away," she said flatly, her tone ice-cold.

But of course, he didn't.

"I mean, honestly," the salesman continued, sliding into the booth beside the man like he owned the place. "Laying it all out like that? Where's the finesse? The mystery? The intrigue?"

She finally turned her head, pushing her sunglasses down just enough to meet his eyes. "Do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?"

"Not when I'm right," he replied, flashing her that infuriatingly cocky smile.

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, and gave him a sweet, fake smile in return. "Right about what? Annoying the hell out of me? Congratulations, you've mastered the art."

The man between them shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting from her to the salesman and back again. "Uh, I should probably—"

"You're not going anywhere," she said sharply, cutting him off. She reached for the envelope and slid it back toward the man with deliberate slowness, her gaze never leaving the salesman. "You want to talk about finesse? Fine. Let's talk about your pitch. What is it this time? Another mysterious slap game in the subway? Real creative."

He laughed, the sound low and easy, and leaned back in the booth. "What can I say? It works."

"Until it doesn't," she shot back.

"Why don't we let him decide?" he countered, gesturing to the man, who looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

She turned her attention back to her target, her expression softening. "You want to trust him? Go ahead. But let me ask you this: When he disappears into thin air after taking his cut, who's going to be there to clean up the mess? Not him."

The salesman's grin faltered, just for a second, but it was enough to make her smirk.

"Fine," he said, standing abruptly and brushing imaginary lint off his suit jacket. "He's all yours. Let's see if your little sob story gets him to bite."

"Gladly," she replied, leaning back with a victorious gleam in her eyes.

But as he turned to leave, he leaned in close, just enough for his breath to brush against her ear. "Next time, sweetheart, try not to play so dirty. It's almost cute how hard you're trying to beat me."

She didn't flinch, didn't react, even as her grip tightened on the edge of the table. He chuckled softly and walked away, leaving her with the trembling man and the lingering scent of his cologne.

"You should take the deal," she said finally, sliding the envelope across the table one last time. "Before someone else comes along and makes it worse for you."

This time, he took it without hesitation.

As she left the café, she spotted the salesman leaning casually against a lamppost outside, twirling a coin between his fingers.

"You owe me," she called out, not breaking stride.

"For what?"

"For not strangling you in there."

His laugh followed her down the street, a sound that stuck in her head longer than she cared to admit.

Next day

She pushed the door to the briefing room open with a little more force than necessary, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. He was already there, of course, leaning back in one of the chairs, his feet propped up on the table like he owned the place. The sight made her want to turn around and walk right back out.

The office reeked of stale coffee and carried the faint metallic tang of the envelopes they used to seal people's fates. Spotting their shared desk, she sauntered over and dropped into her chair, leaning back with a casual air. Her red-tipped nails drummed a steady rhythm against the table, a small but deliberate sound to break the silence.

"So," she started, her voice smooth but sharp enough to cut, "how many desperate souls did you con into signing today?"

"You're late," he drawled, not even bothering to glance up from the notepad he was scribbling on, "I've already got a head start."

She ignored him, tossing her clipboard onto the table with a loud thwack. "Four recruits," she announced, while sitting in the chair across from him.

That got his attention. He arched an eyebrow, finally glancing up. "Four? That's cute."

Her lips twitched, but she kept her expression neutral. "Better than your three."

The smug grin he'd been wearing all evening faltered for a split second, and the sight was immensely satisfying. He quickly recovered, sitting up straighter and folding his arms over his chest. "Who says I only got three?"

"I saw you at the station earlier," she shot back. "Your guy ran off before you could even give him the envelope."

"Ah, but that's where you're wrong," he said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial glint in his eye. "He came back. Took the bait. Easy money."

She narrowed her eyes, trying to gauge whether he was bluffing. With him, it was impossible to tell. He could sell a lie as easily as breathing, and she hated how good he was at it.

"Let's see the proof, then," she said, gesturing to his notepad.

He hesitated, just long enough for her to pounce.

"Liar," she said smugly, leaning back in her chair.

"Fine," he admitted, tossing the notepad onto the table. "Three. But mine were quality recruits. You're probably scraping the bottom of the barrel as usual."

She bristled at that, her fingers curling into fists under the table. "Quality? The last guy you brought in was a drunk who passed out halfway through the first game."

"And he still made it further than your little college dropout," he countered.

"That dropout lasted three games," she snapped. "And he made us more money than any of your recruits ever have."

"Us?" He laughed, the sound low and mocking. "Sweetheart, there is no 'us.' This is a solo game, remember? And right now, you're losing."

The word sweetheart grated against her nerves, but she forced herself to stay calm. She wasn't about to let him see how much he was getting under her skin.

"Keep telling yourself that," she said coolly, pulling out a pen and jotting down the day's numbers on her clipboard. "Meanwhile, I'll be over here actually doing my job."

He watched her for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he reached across the table and snatched the clipboard out of her hands.

"Hey!" she protested, but he held it just out of her reach, flipping through the pages with a smug grin.

"Let's see... Ah, there it is," he said, tapping the page with the end of her pen. "Four names. Not bad. But you forgot to include the part where they all looked ready to bolt the second you left."

She lunged for the clipboard, but he pulled it back again, chuckling under his breath. "Careful now," he teased. "Wouldn't want to make a scene, would we?"

She glared at him, her jaw tightening. "Give it back."

"Say please."

"Go to hell."

He laughed again, but this time, he relented, sliding the clipboard across the table. She snatched it up, smoothing the crumpled pages with deliberate care.

"You're insufferable, you know that?" she muttered, not bothering to look at him.

"And yet, you keep coming back," he replied, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk.

She bit back the retort that was on the tip of her tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her lose her composure. Instead, she focused on her clipboard, pretending he didn't exist.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, he broke it.

"You know, you're lucky you have me as competition."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why's that?"

"Because I keep you on your toes," he said, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Admit it. If it weren't for me, this job would be boring as hell."

"Boring?" she repeated, her tone icy. "You think ruining people's lives is boring?"

"Don't get all self-righteous on me," he said, his voice low and teasing. "We both know you enjoy the thrill just as much as I do."

She opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat. He wasn't wrong, and they both knew it.

"Speaking of thrill," he continued, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "how about a little wager?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What kind of wager?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Next recruit wins."

"Wins what?" she asked warily.

He shrugged, a playful grin spreading across his face. "Bragging rights. And dinner."

She snorted. "You think I'd let you take me to dinner?"

"Who said I'd be taking you?" he shot back, his grin widening. "You'd be taking me."

The audacity of it made her laugh, a sharp, bitter sound that echoed through the sterile room.

"Fine," she said, standing up and smoothing her pencil skirt. "But don't cry when you lose."

"Don't worry about me, sweetheart," he said, rising to his feet and adjusting his tie. "Worry about yourself."

With that, she grabbed her clipboard and swept out of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor.

Later That Night

The neon lights of the city cast a harsh glow on the bustling streets, illuminating the restless hum of nightlife. Cars honked in the distance, their headlights cutting through the mist rising from sewer grates. She stood near the entrance of a seedy-looking diner, a faint flicker of its neon sign sputtering above her. The air smelled of fried food and rain-soaked pavement, but she didn't notice. Her sharp eyes scanned the crowd like a predator hunting for its next meal.

She didn't need long to spot potential. It was always the same—the defeated ones, with slumped shoulders and darting eyes. They carried their desperation in their posture, wearing it like a beacon.

Her instincts honed in on a middle-aged man in a rumpled suit leaning against a lamppost. He clutched a briefcase to his chest like it was his last lifeline, his lips moving silently, perhaps rehearsing excuses or trying to summon courage to return home empty-handed.

Perfect.

Before she could move, a faint ripple of awareness prickled at the back of her neck. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

"Stalking me now?" she asked, her tone sharp but low enough to remain unnoticed.

"Just observing," came his smooth reply, closer than she expected. "Wouldn't want you accusing me of cheating."

Her lips twitched, almost betraying a smile, but she held it back. "You can't cheat at something you're already losing."

"Keep telling yourself that," he said, and she could feel the smirk in his voice without even glancing back.

She pushed his presence to the back of her mind, focusing instead on her target. With a subtle breath, she strode forward, heels clicking against the pavement, the sound cutting through the ambient noise of the street. She approached the man with the kind of confidence that disarmed even the wariest prey.

"Rough night?" she asked, her voice soft and sympathetic, like the purr of a cat just before it strikes.

The man flinched slightly, his tired eyes meeting hers with a flicker of suspicion. "Something like that," he muttered, his voice hoarse and uncertain.

She tilted her head, her expression warm but unreadable. "Well," she said, slipping an envelope from her jacket pocket and holding it out to him, "what if I told you there's a way to turn your luck around?"

The man hesitated, his eyes flicking between her face and the envelope as if weighing the risks. Behind her, she felt his presence again, closer this time. The faintest shuffle of shoes on asphalt told her he was watching, and she resisted the urge to smirk. This one was as good as hers.

Just as the man reached out to take the envelope, a hand shot over her shoulder and plucked it from her grasp.

"Now, now," he said, stepping into view with that maddeningly smug grin, twirling the envelope between his fingers like a magician showing off a trick. "Let's not rush things."

Her jaw tightened, the air around her practically crackling with tension. "What the hell are you doing?" she hissed, her voice low and sharp.

"Just helping out," he replied, unfazed by her glare. With a deliberate slowness, he handed the envelope back to her, throwing in a playful wink that made her blood boil.

The man, caught in the crossfire, glanced between them, his confusion turning into hesitation. "Uh... Is this some kind of scam?"

"Not at all," he said quickly, his tone dripping with practiced reassurance. His smile widened, radiating a charm that seemed almost genuine. "We're just offering a little game. High stakes, high rewards. Interested?"

The man hesitated, his grip on the briefcase tightening. "What kind of game?"

"It's simple," he said, crouching and slamming the folded paper onto the pavement with a sharp snap. "You use your own tile and try to flip mine. If you win, you keep the envelope and some extra cash." He pulled a wad of bills from his pocket, fanning them out enticingly.

"And if I lose?"

He smirked, the gesture sharp and taunting. "Then I get to slap you. Fair trade, don't you think?"

The man recoiled, his skepticism deepening. "What kind of twisted game is this?"

"Just a little fun," the salesman said, his tone light but unyielding. "Besides, no one plays if they think they're going to lose. Are you scared you'll lose?"

She suppressed a groan. He always did this—pushing just hard enough to make them take the bait.

"Or, you take the envelope and walk away, no games required." She suggested.

Her rival's chuckle was low, almost teasing. "Where's the fun in that? And where's the money he so desperately needs, Let him decide."

The man glanced at the envelope, then at the money, and finally at the salesman's smirk. "Fine. I'll play."

Her rival's grin widened. "Excellent.", gesturing toward a nearby alleyway. "Let's make this quick."

She followed them into the dimly lit alley, her annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. He always turned everything into a game, always needed to prove he was one step ahead

He handed the man a folded paper tile, stepping back and gesturing for him to begin. The man crouched, his hand trembling slightly as he slapped his tile against the one on the ground. It barely budged.

"Not bad," the salesman said, picking up the tile. "But let me show you how it's done."

He crouched, his movements fluid and confident. With a sharp snap, his tile slammed down, flipping the man's effortlessly.

Without missing a beat, he straightened and grinned. "Looks like I win this round." He raised his hand, his smirk deepening.

The man flinched, bracing himself, but the salesman stopped short, hovering just close enough to make him sweat. Before delivering a slap that echoed through the alleyway like a gunshot. The man staggered back, holding his cheek with a mix of shock and indignation.

"Oh my—" she whispered, flinching

The salesman, unfazed and borderline proud, grinned down at the man. "another round?."

The man blinked, rubbing his face. "don't you think this was abit painful?"

"Wasn't this our deal?"

"Alright, I'll go again," the man exclaimed, determination etched on his face. He grabbed the colored tile with trembling fingers and slammed it down with force.

The tile on the ground barely budged.

Slap.

Minutes passed, and the man refused to give up, his voice hoarse as he repeatedly asked for another round. His face, now blotched with red and purpling bruises, told the story of his futile persistence.

Growing impatient with the drawn-out game and the waste of her time, she decided to intervene. Not only had her rival stolen her recruit, but he was also dragging this nonsense far longer than necessary.

"I'll go easy on you this time," she heard him say, his voice laced with mock compassion.

"Or," she interjected sharply, pulling a thick stack of cash from her pocket, "you let me take over and raise the stakes."

Her rival's brows lifted, amusement lighting up his face. "Feeling brave, are we?"

"I just like winning," she retorted, her tone clipped as she handed the cash and envelope to the bruised man. "I don't think you have a reason to continue this."

The man hesitated for only a moment before greed overtook him. He snatched the envelope and money from her outstretched hand, shoving them hastily into his pocket. "Thanks," he muttered, practically sprinting into the crowd and out of sight.

She turned, her eyes narrowing as they locked onto her rival. "Happy now? You scared him off."

He smirked, stepping closer, his movements deliberate and calculated. "Scared him? I think I made his night."

"Your ego is insufferable," she said, arms crossing over her chest.

"Is it?" he countered, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from her face with a maddeningly light touch. "Or is it just that you don't like losing?"

Her pulse quickened at the proximity, but she refused to show any sign of weakness. "I didn't lose. He took my deal."

His smirk deepened, his expression dripping with arrogance. "If that helps you sleep at night."

Before she could reply, he leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, velvety murmur. "The game's not over yet. Want to take his place?"

Her breath caught as his fingers grazed hers, sliding the blue tile into her palm before he pulled away. The motion was deliberate, calculated to unnerve her, but she refused to let him win that easily.

She exhaled sharply, tilting her chin upward as she crouched down. Focusing on the game, she slapped her tile against the ground with all the force she could muster.

The crack echoed through the narrow alley, but the result was disappointing—the tile barely shifted.

"Tough break," he quipped, crouching beside her, his voice a teasing whisper. "Maybe you should let me teach you a thing or two."

Her eyes snapped to his, sharp and unwavering. For a moment, the tension between them was palpable, an electric crackle in the chilly air.

"I don't need your lessons," she bit out, rising to her feet and brushing past him, her jaw tight.

"Alright then," he said with infuriating ease. He crouched effortlessly, his movements smooth as silk. With a single, sharp slap, his tile flipped hers with almost mocking precision.

Standing, he turned toward her, a mock pout curving his lips. "I guess I'll have to slap that pretty face of yours now. May I?" he asked, his voice dripping with a false politeness that made her blood boil.

Her jaw tightened, and she nodded stiffly. Before she could brace herself, his hand connected sharply with her cheek. The slap rang out in the alleyway like a firecracker, her head snapping to the side with the force.

Pain bloomed hot and fast, her body recoiling slightly as she stumbled a step back. She could already feel the beginnings of a bruise forming, the sting radiating from her skin.

Her chest rose and fell as she steadied herself. "Again," she demanded, her voice steely.

This time, she took her turn, and with a fierce slap of her tile, she flipped his. A slow, triumphant grin spread across her face.

"Your turn," she said smoothly, stepping closer.

His smug grin never wavered, even as he leaned in for his next move. The sharp crack of his tile meeting her tile.

he missed.

His tile flipped awkwardly, tumbling off-course and skidding out of bounds. A flash of annoyance crossed his face, but before he could recover, her palm came down with brutal precision. The slap echoed louder this time.

He staggered slightly, his face turning away as her hand left a bright, stinging imprint on his cheekbone. The smirk she wore grew darker, more dangerous. "Losing your touch?" she taunted, her voice mocking.

His jaw tensed, but he said nothing, merely resetting the tiles and motioning for the game to continue.

The game continued, the back-and-forth intensified, each slap a resounding echo through the narrow alleyway. The tension between them crackled like static electricity, thickening with every calculated strike. Her cheek throbbed, the sting from his earlier slap blooming into a vivid bruise, while his jawline reddened with the marks of her retaliation.

Then she missed.

Her tile spun wildly off-course, landing far from where it needed to be. The mistake was glaring, and he seized the moment without hesitation. His hand came down with brutal force, striking her cheek hard enough that the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth.

The impact sent her staggering, and this time, a trickle of blood began to run from her nose. She stood frozen for a moment, her fingers brushing against her upper lip. Crimson streaks stained her pale skin, a sharp contrast that only seemed to embolden her defiance.

She tilted her head back slightly, wiping the blood with the back of her hand, smearing it rather than cleaning it. When she looked back at him, her smirk was intact, as sharp as ever.

"What's the matter?" she teased, her voice biting despite the blood. "that's all what you've got?"

For the first time, his confidence faltered. His hand, raised for the next strike, but then froze mid-air. Her face painted with blood hit harder than any slap, and the hesitation in his expression was palpable.

Before she could press further, he stepped forward abruptly, closing the distance between them in one smooth, deliberate motion. His hand dropped from the air to grip her arm firmly, and he pushed her back against the cold brick wall.

The impact stole the air from her lungs, the rough texture of the wall biting into her back. Yet her smirk didn't waver. If anything, it grew sharper, her chin tilting upward as if daring him to try harder. His arms came up, caging her in, palms pressed against the wall on either side of her head. Her breath hitched at his closeness, but she refused to let him see her flinch.

His eyes flicked to her nose, catching the blood still trickling down. Slowly, with deliberate precision, he raised his hand.

She braced herself for another strike, but instead, his thumb brushed against her face. The unexpected gentleness of the motion sent a shiver down her spine, though she masked it well. His thumb wiped away the blood, his touch lingering a second longer than necessary.

He pulled his hand back, glancing at the crimson streak now staining his thumb. Without breaking eye contact, he reached down and wiped it clean on her shirt, the motion casual but calculated.

"Better?" he asked, his tone mocking, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Her smirk dissolved into a sharp scowl, her voice snapping as she opened her mouth. "You—"

He cut her off without a word, his lips crashing against hers in a fiery, passionate kiss. The world around them faded as his hand ditched the wall completely, roaming over her body, pulling her impossibly closer.

For a moment, she pulled back, eyes wide with shock, breathless and taken aback as if the kiss had surged through her like electricity, igniting every nerve ending. What had just happened? How had everything shifted in the blink of an eye? But before she could fully process the intensity of her feelings, his grip tightened on her hips, anchoring her in place, and the heat radiating from him was undeniable, wrapping around her like a warm blanket.

Her heart raced, a wild flutter in her chest that felt like it could lift her off the ground. There was something magnetic in the way he looked at her, a primal pull she could no longer resist. The air was thick with tension, charged with unspoken promises, and just when she thought she might pull away entirely, the fire in his gaze ignited something deep within her.

With a soft sigh of surrender, she leaned back into him, allowing herself to melt against his body. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing along her cheek, as if memorizing the delicate curve of her features. And then his lips crashed into hers again, hungry and demanding, hungry as though he had been waiting for this moment forever. This time, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past her lips to dance with hers in a slow, teasing rhythm that sent shivers down her spine.

She gasped at the sheer sensation, heat pooling in her core as every ounce of tension from earlier evaporated in an instant. The taste of him was intoxicating—warm, slightly sweet, and utterly captivating. Her hands found their way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him for more.

He pulled her closer still, his hands roaming over the small of her back, mapping every curve as if he were trying to memorize her with his touch, urging her to lift her legs around his waist. Instinctively, she obliged, feeling the strength of his body as he lifted her effortlessly. she wrapped her legs around his waist, instinctively urging him to lift her higher, to take her deeper into his embrace, their bodies fitting together perfectly—two pieces of a puzzle that had finally found their match.

The world around them vanished, a blurred backdrop to this moment where only they existed. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing kisses down her jaw, throughout until he meets her neck, pausing to nibble at the sensitive skin just below her ear, igniting fire in her veins with each flick of his tongue and gentle bite. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he held her tightly as if he feared she might slip away. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her impossibly closer, their bodies pressed together in a way that felt electric.

When his lips began to trail again over her delicate skin, she hissed, "You can't leave more marks; they'll know."

He paused, pulling back just enough to meet her gaze, a teasing light in his eyes. "How would they know it's me?" he murmured against her skin.

"The cameras," she whispered, referring to the implanted devices on both their jackets that monitored their work. But just as the words left her lips, she felt his mouth curl into a smirk against her neck.

"Then we might as well give them a show and leave as many marks as I want." He falls back into her skin, his lips teasing the flesh between his teeth as he moves to mark her as his own. His lips pause at one of the pulse points on her neck, noticing how her heartbeat quickens and flutters. Was this typical?

He wasn't sure, but he finds himself praying it's a good thing. A chuckle escapes him as her hands grow desperate, pulling at the back of his head, stifling a groan. "Easy, girl."

"Remember when you said you'd never kiss me? That I wasn't worth it?" she teases, a playful smile flickering on her lips.

"Fuck, did I really say that? I don't recall," he replies, feigning shock.

"Just saying that because you can't make me come," she laughs softly against him, and he can't help the way a small smile curves his lips. His fingers slip underneath her skirt, pushing past the hem of her panties. He finds her wetness already coating his fingers. "Can't make you come yet you're so wet for me, hm?"

She bites her lip, allowing her hips to sway against his fingers as pleasure envelops her thoughts. Though he's unsure of what exactly to do, he has overheard other men discussing this, and he hopes it delivers as much pleasure as they say when he dips a finger inside her. She's loose around him, wet, eagerly sucking him in. He quickly adds another finger, finding his rhythm almost immediately and growing bold. He dares to let his thumb tease the edges of her clit.

He notices the way her nails dig into his shoulders, biting her tongue so hard that crimson might seep forth at any moment.

The salesman had kissed many women, been on the brink of sex, yet none had reacted the way she did. They were quick to show their responses, every emotion not hidden behind a curtain of embarrassment; yet now, despite the situation, she found herself shy about making noise. He allows another finger to push inside her, the pink velvet of her insides gripping him. He hears her gasp when his fingers threaten to curl, and he allows himself another smile. His thumb finds her clit again, and that's when her grip becomes lethal, biting her lip no longer serving as a guard for her moans.

"Please," she mumbles, whimpering.

"Please what, sweetheart?"

"I... I need you," she moans, surprising herself with her confessions to a man so dangerously psychotic, one who has killed and toyed with lives—this was something she swore she would never do. Yet here she was, becoming intimate with him, and his touch felt so gentle it was as if his past didn't exist. She can see the vein pulsing in his neck as he finally pulls his fingers out, his eyes fixed on hers as he moves his hand to his mouth, savoring her taste.

Her pupils dilate at the sight, skin warming before she realizes she's replacing his fingers with her tongue, pressing her mouth against his again. His hand falls to her waist.

Now every kiss deepens, an intoxicating blend of urgency and desire. She feels each heartbeat echoing between them. Every brush of their lips sends sparks racing through her veins, igniting every part of her being. It's primal and raw, yet intimately tender, as if they were revealing hidden parts of themselves that only the other could see.

Their lips finally part after what feels like an eternity, both gasping for breath. Foreheads resting against each other, they feel the warmth radiating from their skin, their hearts racing in unison. His eyes flutter open to find her looking up at him, a soft, teasing smile spreading across her face.

"You can put me down now," she breathes, her eyes dancing with mischief.

He reluctantly lowers her to the ground, still holding her gaze, trying to steady himself.

But as soon as her feet touch the ground, she kneels right at his crotch. "That's for not giving me a warning," she laughs, her sound teasing and light.

He winces, a mixture of surprise and discomfort crossing his features as he stumbles back. "Fuck."

She turns with a gleaming smile, beginning to walk away, glancing over her shoulder. "And now... I win. Dinner is on you," she calls back, her laughter lingering in the air.

"We are not done yet!" he calls out one last time, holding himself in pain.

part 2

#squid game #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game salesman #squid game smut #the salesman #the salesman x reader #salesman smut #gong yoo x reader #first post #be nice #i’ll cry

534 notes · View notes

facefullofsadness · 1 year ago

Note

Could you do a giselle dom pervy step sister(female reader) smut where they don’t like each other at first but ig giselle found a way to turn that hatred into them fucking in secret while their parents are in the house

ANONNNN!!! YOUR MIND!!!! I've been thinking ab this ask for WEEKS and I finally have time to write about it omg obsessed

content - stepcest, blackmail, smut (pervy!giselle, cunnilingus, fingering, face sitting, squirt, voyeurism/public(?) sex)

wc - 2739

a/n - catching up slowly but surely on asks, I have no school this week so imma try my best!

you never really warmed up to giselle.

you never really WANTED to ever warm up to her. she was mean, annoying, obnoxious, and greedy. I mean, how fucking self-centered do you have to be to make your baby stepsis call you by another name because she "doesn't deserve to call me by my real name" as giselle had said. what infuriated you was how pretty she was too. someone who was such a bitch shouldn't get the benefit of being attractive, especially since aeri knew and definitely used it to her advantage. whether it be to the people around her like friends, classmates, teachers, or even your parents, she finessed them like no one's business.

but she could never trick or fool you. you were a challenge to her, and it pissed her off not getting what she wanted. giselle HATED your guts. you were smart, sweet, cute, and generous, traits she simply was not. she hated how your guys' parents eyes' would light up in excitement when you came to them with an academic achievement, looking at you with admiration and love, eyes that would look at aeri with annoyance and disappointment.

aeri's not stupid, she knows why she's disliked, but she doesn't really care. it only really started to affect her seeing YOU be soooo liked by them. she simply hated you because you weren't easy, and you hated her because she saw everyone as easy. though, however much it upset you, it upset her to a degree you couldn't even imagine. she had to win the invisible game, and she was going to get her way with you, one way or another. so she devised a plan, which was to put simply, blackmail.

one day when you were gone at school, she set up a secret camera in your room facing your bed. she laid back on the living room couch in content, watching you come home from school, shooting each other a painfully fake greeting, before you ascended upstairs to your room. during nightfall, you would of course, fulfill your physical desires while everyone was asleep in the house, unaware of the recording device from across the room. and in the morning when you left, your wicked stepsis would sneak back in to retrieve the footage, playing it back and giggling to herself, knowing this would ruin you.

giselle's sweet baby stepsis, a sexual deviant during the after hours, shoving a huge dildo into her pussy to force multiple orgasms from her own body.

aeri was giddy with joy, now owning what single-handedly would win her the upper hand. the day continued as normal, but as you were about to go to sleep, there was a knock at your door. you rolled your eyes when you opened it to find a smug aeri, her phone in her hand with a play button over a still image of you in your room. your eyes shift between her and her phone confused before she pushes you inside and shutting the door behind her.

"what the fuck is that aeri?"

she huffs and sits comfortably at the end of your bed, "first of all, it's giselle to you, don't forget. second, how 'bout I show you?"

playing the video on max volume, your muffled moaning erupting from the small screen, watching a video of yourself masturbating. your ears ring and your cheeks flush, pouncing onto the older girl and trying to tear the phone away from her. your older stepsis is far stronger than you and easily you get overpowered, her hands pinning your wrists together and against the bed, her legs straddling either side of your lap.

with one large hand gripping your wrists together and the other hand hovering the still playing video against your face, she smirks, "what? shy? you weren't so shy last night when you were shamelessly fucking yourself, now were you? hm, y/n-ie? my sweet little sister?"

you grit your teeth and shake your head back and forth to deny the accusation, as if it weren't true. her dark chuckle fills your ears and the room, joined with the loud squelching of your pussy coming from the video. you feel tears start to well in your eyes and you plead with her.

"unnie, please... delete that!"

she coos at you, "awww sweetie, you think I'm that easy? not without a price, I won't."

you continue to plea in a desperate voice, "unnie please! I'll do anything! just please, delete it, or don't share it! anything you want!"

her lips curl into a sinister smirk that you can see even in the dark. you feel your heart drop to your stomach at the thought of what she must've suddenly imagined, immediately regretting your choice of words. before you could even consider opening your mouth to take back what you said, aeri drops the phone and covers your mouth.

"anything huh? will you behave for unnie and do anything I want?"

you debate shaking your head no, but when you hear a particularly loud moan come from the video playing next to your ear, you nod your head yes.

"good girl, you may be stubborn but you're not stupid. a little bit dumb for your choice of words though," she hums above you and trails the hand over your mouth downwards, dragging her long slim fingers across your sensitive body, jerking with every inch of contact she makes.

you whine as her fingers circle your hardening nipples and pinch them between her fingertips, giggling at how your body reacts to her touch.

"sensitive little baby, aren't you y/n-ie? fuck you're so cute, you shouldn't be so fucking cute."

aeri hated how much she was enjoying this almost as much as you did. she hated how cute her little sis was, writhing under her, eyes welling with tears in fear, body reacting to every subtle brush, thighs rubbing themselves together to suppress the ache at her core. and you hated it too, you hated that your older sister made you feel so fucking good, how her touch ignited flames in your stomach, how you panted into the air the more intimate her touch became, how you anticipated and needed more when you realized how disgusting this all was.

you both hated it, but you both couldn't get enough.

looking up into giselle's eyes at the same time she looked into yours, locking onto one another and gazing into lustfilled stares, the tension filling the air. the hatred boiled over and morphed into a new emotion, desire. a compromise emerged, and mentally, you both knew what it was. it all felt too good to want to stop, so you gave in.

leaning up and smashing your lips against aeri's, her immediately pushing back into you, pressing you down into your mattress. sloppy wet kisses loud and echoing through the room, both your moaning filling your ears and drowning out any possibility for moral dilemmas to pierce your mind. the hand pinning your wrists down, traveling up to hold your hand, interlacing her fingers through one and letting the other one go.

you let your free hand shoot into her hair, pulling her closer into you and shoving your tongue into her mouth, eliciting a whine to escape giselle's throat, accepting the intrusion. her other hand finds your thigh and brings it up, wrapping your leg around her waist and grinding her hips against your clothed core, making you both groan out into each other's mouths.

"fuck, you're good. why are you good?" she moans into your mouth.

"I'm not- a fucking- amateur." you pant out between kisses.

"yeah? then tell me, has anyone else made you feel this good?"

she questions, almost as a challenge, and you're scared to answer knowing it's just another piece of blackmail to hang over your head. you both already know the truth, obvious by your hips rutting back against her, your sweat dripping down your forehead, neck, and chest, your core aching with need, and your eyes blown to oblivion.

"fuck you," you answer instead.

she chuckles lowly again, the tone and vibration in your mouth when she does it making your pussy throb between your legs.

"not before I fuck you."

flipping you over and onto your hands and knees, tearing your shorts and panties off, throwing them to the ground. she wastes no time shoving your legs apart and licking along your leaking slit, making you moan out and bury your head into your pillows.

"you're so fucking sick, do you know that? being so wet and horny for your unnie like this, you disgusting little whore."

giselle says as if she's not soaked in her own clothes, nipples hard and hole clenching around air. she feels so powerful, so in control, and it feels so good to have you whining under her. sticking her tongue out and getting to work immediately, dragging her wet muscle greedily and swiftly against your pussy, drinking in all of your slick. muffling your moans into your pillows and clawing at your sheets hard enough to rip them.

her strong grip on both of your legs forcing you to keep them apart, slapping your ass every so often and making you scream out into the pillow. her tongue moves around your core so fucking good, alternating between sucking and flicking at your clit to thrusting and licking inside of your cunt, the sounds unbearably sinful and delightful to especially aeri's ears. she's drunk, on the taste and feel of your pussy, the way your body reacts, and the muffled cries being torn from your mouth.

she closes her eyes and relishes in your delicious juice swishing around her mouth, moaning into your pussy at how fucking good it feels to have you like this. her core aches and throbs so painfully, she clenches her thighs to hold it in. she lands another slap on your ass before shoving three fingers into you, already starting with an unforgivable pace, curling them and finding that spot in you easily. you scream and claw at the sheets, almost assuredly knowing your pillow wasn't muffling your cries anymore, not like either of you cared. aeri was going insane and felt herself becoming more and more addicted to you. addicted to ruining you, addicted to having power over you, addicted to owning you.

with the arch of your back and body stilling, you gush cum all over your stepsister's face, thighs trembling and chest heaving, moans slipping out of your mouth like a waterfall, your pussy mimicking the motions of one too. giselle drank all of it, everything, licking all over your leaking cunt and wiping her face of it too, sucking her fingers dry to not leave a single drop wasted.

she didn't even let you rest as she flipped you over onto your back, quickly stripping of her pajamas and lingerie, before climbing up to your face, her thighs resting on both sides of your head.

"use your tongue for something useful, pervy slut."

pfft, hypocrite.

she gives you no time to respond or think before shoving her fat pussy into your mouth which you immediately start to drag your tongue all over, coating it in her slick. your hands grip her juicy thighs and you dig your nails into them, her wincing above you and gripping the headboard with one hand, the other hand in her mouth to muffle her sounds.

you never rip your eyes away from her face for even a second, obsessed with how much sheer pleasure rests on giselle's face, her mouth biting down on her hand, her eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and eyes clamped shut. your nose hits her clit repeatedly with your tongue buried deep inside her cunt, flicking it to stimulate inside her tight walls. she tastes so fucking divine, cum directly entering your mouth and your spit drooling out the sides of your lips.

her hips quicken and she fully rests her weight on your face which makes you delighted, drinking her up and pulling her in, suffocating between her thighs. not that it mattered, you loved it. you couldn't breathe but you pushed through, thrusting your tongue in her and maneuvering her hips as her clit hit the tip of your nose.

"drink my squirt you little bitch, take it! don't waste a drop! fuck!"

she demands you as she cums in your mouth, her pussy squirting onto your tongue. her thighs shake in your hands and you close your eyes to avoid squirt getting in them. you feel like your drowning in the sheer amount of liquid coming from aeri's pussy, but you obey your sister, drinking everything that slides down your throat. she finally calms down and you tap on her thighs in a panic, literally not able to breathe. she laughs above you and stays there, watching color drain from your face before she lifts herself up, watching you cough and gasp for air.

"sick fuck," she says before smashing her lips against yours' and digging her tongue into your mouth again.

suddenly, she pulls away and gets dressed, picking up her phone and waving at you with that infuriating smirk on her face as she opens the door and leaves, "see you again, baby sis!"

and from then on that's when it started, fucking your step sister in secret. at first it was only at night, every night since the first time. then it progressed to whenever your parents were out of the house, fucking on the couch in the living room, on the kitchen island, in the shower, in each other's rooms. at some point, she started to get more flirty with you, her touches lingering for too long when she held your hips in the kitchen to move past you or sliding her hands up your shirt when she'd greet you with a hug when you came home from school, whispering an "I missed you" into your ear, her breath against it making a shiver go down your spine, which always drove you insane.

at some point though, giselle couldn't give less of a fuck if your parents were home or not, she just wanted to fuck you. your family would be having a movie night in the living room and you'd go to the kitchen to get more snacks, the older girl following you to "help." then she'd pin you to the kitchen counter and slip her fingers down your underwear, dipping them into your already wet pussy.

"really y/n-ie? you're fucking wet? were you eye fucking me all night that you couldn't help yourself get horny? let me help you with that baby."

she would whisper breathily into your ear before fingering you right then and there, you clutching the popcorn bag in your fingers and biting down on your lip, trying so hard not to moan and get caught, thankful the movie was loud enough.

or during a dinner party WITH YOUR RELATIVES, she would "accidentally" drop a spoon on the ground and go to retrieve it, only to separate your thighs and trail a long tortuous lick across your exposed pussy, aeri having demanded you to wear nothing under. you're suddenly gripping your utensils and coughing on the food in your mouth, acting like it went down your throat wrong. your sister climbing back up from under the table with a lost spoon and a smile.

and of course, she fingered you under the dining table that night too, your face red and physically incapable of eating for about twenty minutes, clutching her forearm as you came around her fingers in front of everyone. you had bit down on your lip so hard, blood had started dripping down your chin and onto your dress, excusing yourself to clean up. panting out of breath in your room and ripping the dress off of you, your sister following behind you and pinning you to your bed with a smirk.

"that was impressive baby, you were able to keep in all those delicious moans huh? well, don't you dare fucking keep them in now, they can't hear you from here, and we're not even close to finished."

smashing her lips against your blood stained ones, the taste of metal filling her mouth.

and while you're not sure if you're starting to like your sister or not, you definitely start getting used to it (maybe obsessed).

a/n - the other night when I was looking at this ask, I suddenly had the urge to write a "rich girl aeri x reader fic where they both fucking despise each other and are just rich bitches until one night they both break from all the sexual tension and fuck in the back of aeri's car" fic... I'll get to work-

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lokisgoodgirl · 10 months ago

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No Mercy [Loki x Female Reader]

A Link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki interrogates you....sexually. Warnings. 18+ Minors DNI. Smut. Ceremonial erotica. Fun & Games. Soft! Dom Loki. Established relationship. Light bondage. Denial. (w/c 1.8k)

“Do you plead mercy, little one?” Loki’s voice is terrifyingly calm. If it weren’t for the violently hard erection pressed against his thigh beneath those tight, slutty trousers you might actually believe you were in danger. Deny me, you’d challenged him. Make me break. And he has. And he’s close.

“You’ll never make me talk,” you say defiantly. The layer of fear in your voice is fake, but the tremble isn’t.

It feels like you’re dripping on the bed, knees together, folded to the side, hands tied to the posts. Loki’s eyes flicker to the sheets beneath you as you squirm and a slight narrow of his eyes confirms that yes, you are in fact, dripping on the bed.

You’ve been at this for almost an hour. He’s barely touched you. Just a graze of his tactfully deployed fingers, a blindfold, the targeted skim of his breath and the devastation of his carefully chosen words.

Now the blindfold runs between his fingers as he tilts his head, thinking. “My interrogation requires a little more...finesse, then,” he says, making the blindfold disappear in a flash of green. “A touch more...pressure.’ You whine, yanking the thick leather binds wrapped around your wrists. The manufactured innocence on your face is like blood to a free-wolf and Loki’s lips curl in a wicked smile.

“I’ve been doing this a long, long time,” he says imperiously as he unbuttons a cuff. His long fingers make slow work of folding the sleeve up the meat of his forearm. “I may be a Prince, but an Interrogator of the Crown was my calling, I think. Don’t you?” Your chin rises and you nail him with your stare, hoping your tits look as great as you think they do. You arch valiantly towards his quiet wrath and with a deep breath, you deploy your best 50's starlet impression. “You’ll never break me….Loki Laufeyson.” He releases an exaggerated growl that makes new arousal well between your tightly closed thighs. “Is that right?”

A golden flicker licks from his forehead, the horned diadem unfurling from nothing at all. He’s working on the other sleeve as he swaggers to the side of the bed, taking his time. An oil of sweat has formed on your chest and you squirm for real, trying to break free. “You know how I feel about the horns, oh god-” you mutter, breaking character, clenching as another devilish smile stretches his lips. He stands by your head, crotch inches from your face. So close you can see his cock throb through the fabric. So close you can smell the earthy sweetness of his pre-cum. A low rumble of laughter penetrates the air. “I think you’re closer to defeat than you let on, little one,” he says, drawing a cool finger down your cheek. “Desperate to yield to me, desperate to give in to my demands; to furnish me with the carnal knowledge of your body that I require…that the realm requires.” Against every instinct screaming in your body, you yank your face away. “Perhaps not,” he says bitterly. A wave of dark sandalwood fills your nostrils as the mattress dips and Loki mounts the bed one impossibly long leg at a time.

He spreads his knees while he spreads yours. His face is bladed and angular in shadow, smouldering eyes sparkling beneath his battle-crown of gold.

The god reaches forward and runs his huge palms up the front of your thighs. His touch is electric. You buck up, feeling a web of arousal stick against the bedsheets. Loki glances at it through half-lidded eyes, his trunk heaving with heavy, silent breaths. “You bring this on yourself,” he whispers coldly as a strange object appears in his hand. It looks like a little bell with a round, tapered tip. But heavy. It looks heavy. There's a slight amber tint that warms in the low light.

“My seal,” he explains with an air of condescension. He swings it between his thumb and forefinger. “You will submit to me...one way or another.” He leans closer, dragging the cool golden seal over the curve of your breast and a violent shiver wrenches down your spine. “They always do,' he says. "And I have come prepared.” His eyes follow the metal seal’s descent over the dip of your waist, enjoying the shudders of overstimulation they cause. The graze of his raised markings harden your nipples and you strain your neck to the ceiling as he runs a line down the centre of your stomach and pauses at the top of your mound. The weight between your legs is unbearable; it’s an emptiness only Loki’s cock can fill. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk?” he murmurs sweetly with those dark brows peaked. But it’s an act, trying to trick you – of course. Oh god, he’s so fucking hot, it’s terrible. Every urge screams to cry mercy and have him fuck you like a victorious king; ride him as you hang onto those horns and make him see double. “Do it,” you spit, clenching your teeth. You yank the leather ropes again. “Pervert.” Loki’s brows rise in genuine surprise, a flash of mirth you recognise skating across his face before his features harden again. Role play with Loki is like nothing else. The king of your heart, but king of the performance too. “Very well,” he says, and the cool roll of metal slips against your cunt. He toys with it, pressing its ridged base against your clit and rubbing it in slow, maddening circles. “This seal has started wars,” he says in the same calm, even tone, “ended them, too.” Your stifle a groan of pleasure as the curved tip dips inside your pussy. Its sharp bite seems to melt inside the heat of your slit. “But you may be my greatest challenge,” he purrs as he slides it from the hole. You whimper as he brings it to his lips, rolling it, moaning in a low inhumane frequency. “And since I have just now claimed you with my crest...perhaps your conscience will allow me to claim you with my cock.” Your will to resist is fading fast. Loki tsk’s with feigned irritation as the seal vanishes and his attention turns to the mess beneath your legs. Arousal sticks to your inner thighs in a glistening sheet.

You groan as he flexes his fingers in front of his face, thick veins standing to attention on the back of his hands. He folds all but two, sucking them between his lips and hollowing his cheekbones in the process like an absolute whore. Without a pause, he curls them inside you and the air dissolves from your lungs in a strangled moan of his name. “Doesn’t count…” he warns. You look at him with your mouth open, brow a map of twitching lines. "You have to say it."

Loki kneels between your legs, as cool as Jotunheim ice, pumping his fingers slowly inside your slippery cunt, thumb sliding against your swollen clit with an arrogant smirk on his face. Your hips rise to meet him on every thrust of his palm. Breath comes in short bursts as you clench around his fingers, back arching into his touch as orgasm threatens to ruin you- He slips them out. “Loki!”

The frustration is real - no need to act. The god’s eyes widen in a shameless caricature of innocence. “I have given you every opportunity to yield to me, I have I not?” He pushes the rolled sleeves of his perfectly fitted shirt higher in a targeted attack. Your legs have begun to tremble at the loss of his touch. “And at every opportunity," he continues, "you have stayed true to your loyalties...which I respect."

The ceremonial sincerity in his voice is sickeningly erotic as he hooks his hands beneath your knees. “But pleasure...true pleasure...is a privilege reserved for those who yield to me.”

The sharp cool of his metal diadem stings your flesh as he kisses your inner thigh. He draws closer to your desperate sex, so close you can feel his breath cool against it as he says, “So cry mercy darling, and it will be yours.” He’s really dialled the drama up to eleven tonight. Instinctually you try and lurch your arms forward to grab the curve of his horns and press him deep into your pussy; mad for the feel of his tongue flat and flawless moving against it. “Oh god,” you whimper, fighting yourself. “Good girl,” he purrs, grazing his parted lips over your swollen labia. It’s too much. “Oh god, Loki…” “Good girl, say it...beg for it,” he spits as he falls back on his haunches and reaches for the button of his suit trousers. He looks so fucking mean.

The beat in your chest has turned to syrupy thumps as your legs straighten and contract on either side of him. “You want to be my good girl…” A pop echoes and his cock suddenly weighs in his hand like a weapon. You’re salivating...actually salivating. He pumps slowly back and forth, jaw clenching, his eyes hard as flints. “Don’t make me finish myself on your traitorous face.”

“Mercy,” you gasp. Loki’s grin widens and it touches his eyes. He licks his lips. “Do you want me to stay in character?” he asks quietly as his clothes disappear- everything but the horned diadem on his head.

His shoulders roll and every muscle in his torso tightens, thighs bulging as he clenches against the punishing grip of his fist. You bite your lip, nodding. His eyes flash. “Well chosen,” Interrogator Loki says. The hard edge in his voice has returned with a vengeance and he melts the leather binds holding you with a wave of his hand. “I trust my faith in your repentance is not misplaced,” he says as he crawls up your body with intent. Loki’s hair swings around your jaw, the scent of him, the weight of him. His length presses like metal against your throbbing clit and you buck your hips, trying to catch him. Every thought in your head evaporates as Loki of Asgard buries himself inside you with a shuddering exhale. Your legs wrap around his hips, forcing his ass down, pushing him deeper.

There’s a thud, and then another one; the curve of his horns beating against the headboard. Loki deploys a wolfish smile as his fingers curl around your wrists. “Can’t take any chances with my minx of a prisoner,” he whispers against your cheek. “No mercy,” you moan into his open mouth. It’s a request he understands as he delivers another targeted roll of his hips. “No mercy,” he replies.

A/N - Have I told you guys how much I love you recently? Because I really do. I hope you know that. x

Tags ( in comments - all of you, soz. Normal way is not workinnng)

#loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x you #loki x you smut #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader #lokismut #loki odinson #loki imagine #loki marvel #loki oneshot

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rizemores · 3 months ago

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cw. 18+, smut, reader is fem and has a vagina, CEO!Gojo.

CEO!Satoru has always been an excellent negotiator. There is no shareholder in this world that has been able to deny his wit and vision for the Gojo corp.

CEO!Satoru thinks he's a man with finesse and he's going to absolutely crack this deal with this new, upcoming start up and eventually claim it even when his manager explicitly warns him that the CEO of this company was a tough nut to crack. Which he brushes off very conveniently. Who would say no to Gojo Satoru?

CEO!Satoru feels his body freeze and all the cockiness drain out his body the minute he sees you, a goddess in all her office siren glory having a cold, sharp look in her eyes as he enters. And he swore he dick couldn't get harder underneath the gray trousers of his custom made suit.

CEO!Satoru has never been so jittery while discussing potential growth plans and visions for the collaboration, but tries his best to maintain his cocky façade, which he does quite successfully too.

CEO!Satoru feels a rush of excitement for each counter you made to his risky suggestions for the company collab and that sense of challenge only drives him further to seduce you. "If you let me have this chance, I can show you what I'm capable of..your company would reach new height, miss.." He leans down to the chair you were seated on with your leg crossed on another and he pretends to no ogle at your cleavage and the plushness of your thighs that were decorated with your pantyhose. Clearly pushing his luck.

CEO!Satoru feels victorious when he thinks he's been given that chance, with you raunchily spread on the table whilst tugging on his silky white tie that resembled his hair as he was 3 fingers knuckles deep into your tight cunt. His long, slender fingers curled against your spot deep within, fucking his digits into you fast and hard, the obscene squelch of your arousal filled the room.

"Wanna see you fall apart on my fingers. Fucking soak me..gonna make you cum so fucking hard that you'll agree.."

CEO!Satoru was 1000% sure to have sealed the deal with your company with the determined efforts of his fingers pistoning in your soaked hole, firmly believing that your professionalism was now off the rails and you were wrapped around his finger, absolutely. Especially with your eyes crossed and mouth caged open in unadultered ecstasy. He crooks his fingers just right, rubbing insistently against that spongey spot deep within you. You let out a choked moan, your hips bucking wildly against his hand as you chase your pleasure, erratically quivering and clenching on his digits as your orgasm rolls through your body like a tidal wave. You might've gotten the best orgasm of your life from a big shot CEO. What professionalism?

CEO!Satoru works you through it, slowly decreasing the pressure as the aftershocks roll through you. He gentles his touch, carefully extracting his fingers from your soaked cunt—bringing them to his lips, he licks your essence off his skin, humming in appreciation. "You taste divine, I take that this is a celebratory dessert for our agreement, hm?" He leans closer with his exorbitant perfume filling your sense, his hands now settled on your splayed thighs as he speaks against your lips.

CEO!Satoru's face is devoid of all colour and his confidence as he gets humbled by what you say next with a sneerish, mocking smile. Your eyes evidently looking down upon him.

"That was a good fuck, but my answer is no. The terms and conditions are not favourable for my company Mr. Gojo."

#can you tell I'm going feral over the new toru illust in that suit...#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk gojo smut #satoru smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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avocado-writing · 5 months ago

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Omg i love your poly Deadpool and Wolverine fics !! I especially love that reader is totally a sunshine ! Could you do any fic with them and that trope ? 😍

vague sequel to this

Your bad day has been utterly forgotten.

It’s not incredibly hard for them to cheer you up, Logan and Wade have learned. You’re so rarely sad that it’s hardly an issue anyway, but all they really need to do is redirect your energy into something else. A distraction to take your mind off of whatever’s gotten under your skin.

There’s a little carnival that’s set up near the apartment. One of those ones which is constantly on the move, overcharges for everything, and is exactly the kind of place you love. So it was a no-brainer to take you there for the evening.

Logan bought you a necklace made of hard candies, Wade took you on all the rollercoasters which were definitely not safe but you screamed with joy while riding. You’d insisted all three of you squeezed into a boat through the tunnel of love, and they’d come out the other side with your lipstick all over their faces, you smugly sandwiched between them.

And through the evening you’ve been fucking jubilant. Your laughter rolls like thunder, but the kind which means a storm is going to clear out the oppressive atmosphere of a muggy day. A sweet, loud kind of laughter which peals from your very soul. Wade and Logan catch each other’s eye as you absolutely decimate a stick of neon blue cotton candy: they’ve done well.

The three of you are preparing to go home when something catches your eye, slowing you to a stop as you stare. It’s a prize booth - the kind where you have to knock over a tower of tin cans to win. Hanging from the rafters are huge plushies of your favourite animal.

“C’mon baby, you know these games are rigged,” Logan sighs, aware he’s marching into a losing battle. You lick the sugar off of your fingers and dump the wooden stick into a garbage bin, eyes wide in the fluorescent lights of the bumper cars nearby.

“Aww… but they’re so cute…” you sigh, looking really disappointed.

Well, neither of them are ones to let that happen, so Logan and Wade find themselves speaking in unison when they say: “I’ll win you one.”

They exchange a look and you grin. Oh. This has become a challenge, and both are too stubborn to back down. Together they step up to the counter, each slamming five dollars down and making the poor teenager manning the booth jump.

“Uh, okay, you have two balls and need to knock the whole tower—”

The teen doesn’t even get a chance to finish their explanation before Logan has launched one of the pathetic beanbags at the cans with such force that it crumples a couple of them in half. They’re cleared off completely in one hit. The attendant can only gawp as he smugly points to one of the huge plushies which is dutifully fetched. You let out a little woop of joy as he passes it into your arms, giving Wade a look which says beat that.

Wade hums, throwing the beanbag up and down in his hand, testing its weight.

“Okay, well, not all of us are barbarians who need to use brute strength to compensate for our advanced age. It’s all about the finesse, pookie.”

Wade angles his throw so it bounces off the side wall, clearing all of the cans but one. Logan lets out a smug huff. Wade frowns.

“Hey, look, is that Spiderman doing full-frontal nudity?” he says, pointing into the distance, distracting the teen with one hand while he whips out a knife with the other and skewers the can to the back of the booth.

“Prize please!” he says when they turn back, turning pale at the sight of what’s been done to their game. They pass him another plushie from the roof with shaking hands, and Wade presents it to you with a flourish.

“That was cheating,” Logan states as the three of you walk away.

“Uh, I cleared the cans, old man. No cheating about it.”

“You had a second ball to throw,” you point out, and Wade pauses.

“Do you want the toy or not, sweetcheeks?”

And that is how you find yourself more stuffed animal than human, waddling out of the carnival with a huge smile and arms full of polyester. The whole thing is sort of ridiculous but, honestly, if you’re smiling? Logan and Wade can agree it’s totally worth it.

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

#my writing #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x reader #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #x men x reader #logan howlett imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #wolverine fanfiction #mcu fandom #Deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader

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vamptizm · 3 months ago

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i. MISSION JEALOUSY — p. bueckers.

pairing : paige bueckers x clover amar (oc)

synopsis : in which paige bueckers and clover amar, two uconn wbb stars, have an ongoing mission of making each other jealous and outdoing the other.

warnings : cuss words. sexual innuendos. no smut yet.

word count : 2.3k

note : i’m honestly only writing it as an oc because its easier to do for me, but you can use this as an x reader fic if you like idc

Paige Bueckers and Clover Amar had more in common than either of them would like to admit. Two sides of the same coin. Cocky, overly confident, Competitive and undeniably overprotective. Basketball was their life, a priority that had been cemented at the very top from an early age on. The rivalry between UConn’s two star players was never solely reserved for the court. In fact, one might say the times where the two interacted off-court, were the most intense.

The gym buzzed with the faint echoes of bouncing basketballs and the rhythmic squeak of sneakers against polished wood floors. Clover moved with precision as she stretched, her movements deliberate, her focus entirely on her body's rhythm. Her dark hair was pulled up, a few loose strands framing her sharp features. The short sleeves of her jersey revealed the intricate tattoos lining her arms and the hint of a design peeking from her neckline, adding an edge to her composed demeanor.

She switched seamlessly into dribbling drills, her tattooed forearm flexing as she maintained complete control over the ball. Confidence radiated from her as she worked through the warm-up, her mind already preparing for the scrimmage ahead. Paige wasn't even on her radar—until her voice, laced with challenge, broke through the ambient noise.

"I hope we're not on the same team today," Paige said, her tone casual but her intent sharp as the glint in her eyes. She stood only a few feet away, spinning a ball lazily in one hand, her trademark smirk firmly in place.

Clover didn't look up immediately. Instead, she finished her stretch, bending forward with an air of indifference. Her voice was calm, but her words were edged with fire. "So do I. I wanna see you flat on your ass a couple of times today."

A sarcastic laugh escaped Paige, low enough that it could've been missed by anyone not tuned in to her. She leaned slightly closer, voice dropping as she muttered, just loud enough for Clover to catch it, "Sure you don't just wanna see my ass?"

Clover froze for half a second before straightening, a wicked grin curling her lips. She tilted her head, finally meeting Paige's gaze with an unbothered confidence that only made the air between them crackle more.

"Maybe," Clover replied, the single word dripping with nonchalance as she rolled her shoulders back and shifted into another stretch, purposefully turning away. The movement was subtle, but the way Paige's gaze lingered wasn't.

Clover's grin widened, though she kept it to herself. Let Paige think she was in control. For now, she could have her fun, but Clover would make sure it was her name on everyone's lips by the end of practice.

The sound of sneakers squeaking against the court, the rapid thuds of the ball, and shouts from teammates filled the gym as the scrimmage began. Clover and Paige stood on opposite ends of the court, their gazes locking briefly before the tip-off. Both wore identical smirks, their rivalry palpable to everyone present.

From the moment the game started, it was clear neither was holding back. Paige wasted no time driving toward the basket, weaving through defenders with her usual speed and finesse. Clover intercepted her at the paint, arms outstretched, forcing Paige to pull up for a contested mid-range jumper. The ball kissed the rim before bouncing out, and Clover snatched the rebound with a triumphant look.

"Better luck next time, Bueckers," Clover quipped as she dribbled down the court, her tone playful but cutting.

Paige jogged alongside her, the smirk on her face unwavering. "Don't get used to it. I've got range you can't even dream of."

Clover didn't respond—she didn't need to. With a sudden crossover, she left her defender stumbling and pulled up for a smooth three-pointer, her follow-through picture-perfect. The ball swished through the net, and Clover turned, shooting Paige a wink as she jogged back on defense.

Paige's teammates groaned, but she only shook her head, the corners of her mouth twitching upward.

Minutes later, Paige got her chance. She posted up against Clover on the block, their bodies colliding as Paige backed her down. Clover dug in, refusing to budge, but Paige was relentless, spinning off her shoulder and sinking a fadeaway jumper. She didn't even look at the ball as it swished through the net, her gaze locked on Clover's instead.

"Cute," Clover said, puckering her lips slightly. Her tone was flat, almost sarcastic. "But you're gonna have to try harder than that to impress me."

"I'm just getting started." Paige replied, already sprinting back on defense.

The banter continued as the game wore on, neither willing to let the other have the upper hand. Paige's quick drives and pinpoint passes were met with Clover's sharpshooting and scrappy defense, the two of them trading buckets and sly comments with equal intensity.

When Clover stole the ball from Paige in a full-court press, she couldn't resist a parting shot as she sprinted toward the hoop. "Guess those hands aren't as great as the hype, huh?" There was no way for the blonde to miss the implication.

Paige caught up just in time to block the layup, slapping the ball against the backboard. "Guess you'll just have to find out for yourself, Amar." she shot back, her voice laced with satisfaction.

Despite their constant back-and-forth, there was an undercurrent of respect in the way they moved around each other, pushing and testing each other's limits. Off the court, they might've been rivals, but on it, they brought out the best in each other—whether they'd admit it or not.

By the end of the scrimmage, both were drenched in sweat, their teammates huddled around the scoreboard to tally the points. Clover leaned on her knees, catching her breath, while Paige nudged her with an elbow.

"Admit it," Paige said, grinning through her exhaustion. "You're better when I'm guarding you."

Clover straightened, her cocky demeanor still intact despite the fatigue. "I'm always better, with or without you."

Paige laughed, shaking her head. "Keep telling yourself that, Amar."

The restaurant buzzed with the hum of conversation, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. The team occupied a long table at the center of the room, the camaraderie usually electric during these dinners slightly muted tonight. Clover, seated near the middle of the table, absently pushed a forkful of pasta around her plate as her gaze flicked toward Paige.

Paige sat across from her, a sly grin tugging at the corners of her mouth as her date—a redhead in a tight dress—leaned in closer. The girl's laugh was shrill, cutting through the chatter like nails on a chalkboard. Clover's jaw tightened as she caught Paige throwing a brief glance in her direction, the hint of a smirk playing on her lips as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

"You good, Clo?" Nika asked from beside her, nudging her shoulder lightly.

"Never better," Clover replied, her tone cool and composed. She pushed her plate away slightly, glancing up just in time to catch the waitress approaching their table again.

The blonde waitress, with her friendly yet slightly shy demeanor, stopped beside Clover, her gaze lingering longer than necessary. "How's everything tasting? Can I get you anything else?" she asked, her voice sweet and soft, a faint pink dusting her cheeks as she spoke directly to Clover.

Clover leaned back casually, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Everything's great. But I think I'm missing something," she said, her voice dripping with playful charm.

The waitress blinked, her blush deepening. "Oh? What's that?"

"Dessert. But I think already found something much better." Clover replied, her eyes locking with the waitress's.

The blonde's lips twitched into a shy smile, and she ducked her head slightly, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Well, if there's anything else you need, just let me know," she said before walking away, her steps a little quicker than before.

KK beside her let out a low whistle. "Damn, Clo. You didn't waste any time, huh?"

Clover shrugged, her smirk widening. "What can I say? I've got a way with people."

Across the table, Paige's hand tightened around her glass. Her date, oblivious, was saying something about an influencer trip to Miami, but Paige wasn't listening. Her eyes were fixed on Clover, watching the exchange with the waitress, the way Clover's gaze lingered a little too long, and the deliberate brush of fingers when the menu was handed over earlier.

The redhead beside Paige tugged at her arm, her bright red nails curling around Paige's wrist. "Babe, you're not even listening to me," she pouted, her voice high-pitched and grating. Clover had to hold herself back from snorting at the pet-name.

Paige forced a small smile, pulling her attention back. "Sorry. What were you saying?"

The redhead sighed dramatically but didn't notice the subtle shift in Paige's gaze, which darted back toward Clover.

Clover, sensing the eyes on her, turned her head slightly, catching Paige's annoyed expression. She smirked and raised her glass in a mock toast, mouthing, 'Enjoying the show?'

Paige's jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing slightly before she turned back to her date, the irritation bubbling under her carefully composed exterior.

The dinner had dragged on far longer than Clover would've liked. The initial awkwardness of Paige bringing her date to what was supposed to be a team dinner had somehow managed to get worse. Amelia—or was it Emily?—sat perched beside Paige, her body angled as if she wanted to detach herself from the table entirely. She barely engaged with the team, only giving short, clipped answers to any attempts at conversation.

"So, Amelia," one of their teammates, Azzi, ventured cautiously, a polite smile on her face. "What do you do? Are you a student here, too?"

"I'm studying marketing," Amelia replied flatly, barely sparing Azzi a glance before leaning back toward Paige. "But I really think I'm gonna go into PR after graduation."

Azzi's smile faltered as she glanced at Clover, who offered a subtle shrug before turning her attention to her drink.

Across the table, Paige shifted in her seat, looking slightly uncomfortable as Amelia chattered on about some influencer she'd recently met. Clover's jaw tightened, her irritation growing. It wasn't just the way Amelia monopolized Paige's attention; it was how disinterested she seemed in everyone else, as though the team wasn't worth her time. Clover was someone who was very protective of her loves ones, especially someone as sweet and kind hearted as Azzi Fudd. There was no way in hell she'd let anyone disrespect her.

"Hey, sorry—what was your name again?" Clover cut in suddenly, her tone pleasant but her eyes sharp. She leaned forward slightly, setting her elbows on the table as if genuinely trying to remember. Paige's eyes couldn't help but drift towards the girl's now accentuated cleavage, her breast valley tattoo barely visible. "Emily, right?"

"It's Amelia," the redhead corrected, her brows knitting together in clear irritation.

Clover feigned a look of realization, nodding slowly. "Right... Amelia. Pretty name." She leaned back against her chair, crossing her arms. "You know, Amelia, don't you think that when you're out with a group of people, it's polite to at least acknowledge their existence?" Her smile didn't waver, but the sharpness in her voice was unmistakable. "Paige isn't gonna run away, honey. I promise."

Amelia's lips parted in shock, her face turning an angry shade of red. "Excuse me?"

Clover shrugged, her tone light as if she hadn't just dropped a verbal grenade. "It's just something to think about. Right, Paigey?" She turned her gaze to Paige, her smirk growing. "You're not gonna ditch the poor girl, are you?"

Paige's glare could've cut through steel, but Clover didn't falter. The rest of the team watched the exchange, most of them trying—and failing—to suppress their amusement. Aubrey hid her face behind her drink, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter, while Aaliyah pretended to look at her phone, her lips pressed tightly together.

Amelia looked to Paige, clearly waiting for her to jump to her defense. "Paige?"

But Paige didn't say anything. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, and leaned back in her chair. "Clover's just being Clover," she muttered, clearly unwilling to get involved.

That was the final straw for Amelia. She stood abruptly, grabbing her purse. "Unbelievable," she hissed, glaring at Paige before storming out of the restaurant in a dramatic huff.

The table fell silent for a moment before Ayanna snorted, breaking into laughter. "Clover, that was ruthless."

Clover grinned, unbothered. "I just call it like I see it."

Paige shot her a look but didn't say anything, clearly annoyed but unwilling to escalate the situation further.

As the night wound down and the team began gathering their things, Clover reached for the bill. "I've got it," she said firmly, waving off anyone who tried to chip in.

The waitress returned to the table to collect the check, her usual professional demeanor softening when she looked at Clover. She slipped a napkin onto the table beside her, leaning in slightly. "Thanks for coming in tonight," she said softly, her cheeks flushed as she smiled at Clover. "Call me if you ever want dessert."

Clover chuckled, slipping the napkin into her pocket as the waitress walked away, her steps quick and purposeful.

Paige, who hadn't missed a second of the interaction, scoffed loudly. "Seriously?"

"What?" Clover replied innocently, trailing behind the team as they exited the restaurant. "Can't help it if people like me, Bueckers."

Paige rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "So fucking annoying."

Clover smirked, her tone teasing. "I know you are, but what am I?"

The tension between them was palpable as they walked out into the night, the unspoken rivalry simmering just beneath the surface, ready to ignite again at any moment.

#⇢ ˗ˏˋ vamptizm writes ࿐ྂ #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #wbb #wnba

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fictionadventurer · 1 year ago

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I have three stories that I would like to write at least some part of before the deadline for the Inklings Challenge.

I am scrolling tumblr and obsessively looking up book recommendations online.

I see some problems here.

#adventures in the inklings challenge #i am having a scatterbrained week #so very tired yet unable to sleep #mind going off in a million different directions #unable to focus because i have an event at 7 pm #i keep trying to do inklings housekeeping and then forgetting what i was supposed to do #i would like a refund on this brain #at least the obsessive book rec scrolling could be useful for at least one of the ideas #so far the plan is: finish the short story that's been my main focus for the challenge #by just starting at the beginning and writing instead of trying to finesse old material into the new outline #try to write at least one scene that's more of a prequel to the other main idea #and if by some magic i have time left (where??? i don't think you understand the concept of linear time sweetheart)#scribble out a version of the third idea #oh wait there's a fourth one!#that's one's very scribbly though #that one could realistically be written in saturday spare moments #i guess the hope with idea 3 would more accurately be a hope to *start* so it's an unfinished story to write after the deadline #rather than trying to sneak in a new story under the inklings umbrella under false pretenses

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writerfromshikahr · 2 months ago

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Because Illario can't help himself flirt with Rook and I had to use "that line" to start a little piece.

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Enough, Illario (Part 1) - Lucanis X Rook Fanfic

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"You know, de Riva, you chose the wrong Dellamorte."

Rook's eyebrow arched. "Is that so? I wasn't aware I had chosen one at all."

Lucanis shot him a look.

"I'm charming, clearly more handsome, and the things I can do to you...." Illario started, but Lucanis kicked him under the café table, making him jolt in his chair.

"That's enough, cousin," Lucanis said quietly.

"What?! We're just having a little fun. Always so serious, Lucanis."

"We are here to discuss Crow business, not inflate your already overstuffed ego. This is why your contracts always go wrong."

Illario smirked. "Sometimes wrong feels better." He winked at Rook.

"I'd prefer not to die anytime soon, yeah..." Rook replied flatly.

"See? Even Rook doesn't fall for your idiotic charm."

"Yet..." Illario added with a sly grin. "I have never failed to bed a Crow I fancy."

"Aww, how sweet. Well, you can call me your first disappointment then," she shot back.

Lucanis spat his coffee back into his cup, trying to stifle a laugh.

"I love a challenge from a beautiful woman," Illario smirked.

Rook's lips curved into a mischievous smile as she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Oh, I wouldn't call it a challenge. More like an impossibility."

Illario's eyes gleamed with amusement, clearly undeterred. "Impossibility? You wound me, mi amada. Surely you can't deny the allure of an irresistible man like myself."

Lucanis shot his cousin a pointed glare. "The only thing irresistible about you is your ability to ruin a meeting. Maybe focus on that talent instead."

Rook chuckled, her laugh soft and utterly unbothered by Illario's relentless flirting. "Lucanis does have a point. If your jobs are anything like your attempts to flirt, I can see why they might go sideways."

Illario placed a dramatic hand over his chest, pretending to be mortally offended. "You both wound me! And here I thought Antivan Crows were meant to appreciate style and finesse."

Lucanis sighed, clearly done with the conversation but unwilling to abandon the sharp amusement tugging at his lips. "Your version of 'style' belongs in a tavern, Illario, not at a Crow meeting."

Illario choked on his drink. "By the Maker, you two deserve each other. So serious, so sharp-tongued...it's no wonder you're not fun at parties."

"At least we leave them alive," Rook quipped.

Lucanis coughed to disguise the laugh threatening to escape, while his cousin sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Fine, fine. I can tell when I'm not appreciated."

"Can you?" Lucanis muttered under his breath, earning him another laugh from Rook.

Illario wagged a finger at both of them. "One day, Rook, you'll regret underestimating my charms and all I can offer, in the bedroom and on a contract."

"Not likely," Rook replied smoothly, before turning her attention to Lucanis.

Illario leaned closer to her, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "You know, de Riva, a woman like you deserves someone who truly appreciates her. Someone who knows how to make you..."

Lucanis placed his coffee cup down just a little harder than necessary. "Enough, Illario."

"Touchy," he replied, grinning wider as he turned back to Rook. "But I understand. He’s always been the brooding type and never shares his feelings."

"And here I thought assassins were supposed to be elusive and guarded. Unlike you," she replied, her eyes darting briefly toward Lucanis, catching the flicker of tension in his expression.

"Don't worry, if subtlety ever bores you, you know where to find me."

"Careful, Illario," she replied, her tone sharp but amused. "Keep pushing, and Lucanis might decide to silence you for good."

He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. "Ah, but then he’d have to admit why he did it, and we couldn't have that now, could we, cousin?"

"Sometimes incrimination is worth the risk." Lucanis said into his coffee, taking a long, thoughtful sip.

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Part 2 can be found HERE

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#lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #rookanis #aloisia de riva #dragon age the veilguard #illario dellamorte #some fluff and nothing more #pre-relationship what have yous #rookanisfanfic #rook #antivan crows

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justporo · 11 months ago

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Opening chests - A guide by Astarion Ancunín

As someone who's been merely seen as a body to use in the worst kind of ways, Astarion enjoys being needed for just about anything else.

You first noticed this when the rest of the party struggled to open a promising looking treasure chest which you all hoped would contain some direly needed riches - or at least something to make for a good dinner.

You were just about to step in and offer your expertise when Astarion made an entrance.

“By all the gods above and below! You bunch call yourself adventurers and can't even pick a simple lock such as this?” he exclaimed as he strode over with a swagger and a viciously teasing smirk. Gale moaned. He knew just like any of the others that Astarion was about to be insufferable when he put on a tone like this - more insufferable than usual that means.

“All these books and not a single one to be useful, just as always? Am I right - oh great Gale of Waterdeep?” the vampire barked back at the wizard's annoyed reaction.

Gale just pressed his mouth into a thin line, not willing to hand his pale companion more opportunities for snide remarks.

“I could always smash it with my axe,” Karlach chimed in and immediately grabbed for her martial weapon and took an enthusiastic step towards the chest.

Astarion threw out his arms to hold her off: “NO!” The tiefling just shrugged and casually hammered her weapon into the ground and leaned against it - an impressive show of her strength.

“My dear Karlach,” Astarion began “your uhm… enthusiasm is deeply appreciated.” (The sarcasm in his voice told another story. But Karlach still beamed at him) “But stuff like this is in need of a little more finesse,” the rogue finished and wiggled his long fingers.

You watched all of this as you crossed your arms over your chest. The lock really wasn't that big of a challenge. You could have probably done it in the middle of the night, with no light source and drunk out of your mind. But Astarion was keen to make a show of it seemed - and by now you were too interested to watch it play out as your less roguish companions watched.

Astarion produced his thieves tools out of his pocket with an artful flip and a wink he aimed specifically at you. You grinned at him. Despite his sometimes goofy or weird mannerisms and the cheesy lines he dropped on about everyone ( but especially on you), you couldn't helped but to be charmed by the vampire.

Astarion made to get to work.

“Now watch,” he exclaimed cheerfully “and take some notes,” he finished dryly with a pointed look at Gale who just threw his hands in the air at another unneeded jab towards him.

It was merely the blink of an eye and suddenly the lock made an very audible a click and fell to the dusty ground.

Astarion jumped up again almost as quickly as he had kneeled down in front of the chest. “Hah!” he exclaimed, twirled around to the party and made an obnoxiously gracious bow.

Karlach clapped, honestly impressed.

You just smirked.

Shadowheart rolled her eyes.

Gale immediately went to open the chest and- “It's empty,” he declared. “What a grand treasure you have revealed to us, oh great Astarion of Know-it-all,” the wizard spat. “It was all for nothing.”

The glance the vampire threw at Gale couldn't have been more sharp had he used his dagger on the wizard. “You all got a great learning opportunity. You should be grateful!” Astarion answered and pursed his lips

“Learned what exactly, Astarion? We could see nothing,” Wyll commented dryly, earning another dagger glance.

Astarion clicked his tongue and strode off as the others seemed to have lost interest in the damned chest now that it had proven worthless.

“Don't come to me again then, crying for help,” the vampire snarled as he walked off, shoulders slumped a little. There might have been just the tiniest tinge of hurt in his voice.

“No one asked him,” Gale muttered. But now he earned sharp looks from the others too.

“What?” the wizard asked offendedly looking around the others.

“Every once in a while even a Know-it-all like Astarion deserves a little praise,” you said as you looked after the vampire. “The next time he opens a lock up for you, you better give him a little pat on the back. We all should, actually,” you closed and then went to go after Astarion.

The others muttered in quiet agreement.

And in fact, from there on out, Astarion became the designated lock picker of the party. And you were happy every time you saw Astarion's ruby eyes sparkle a little with pride when you asked for his help.

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #fanfiction #astarion x tav #baldur's gate iii #bg3 #baldurs gate #astarion x you #astarion x reader #drabble #poro drabbles

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qqueenofhades · 3 months ago

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I suddenly thought of an interesting question. What is the purpose of democracy? Is it democracy for democracy's sake? democracy exists to protect human rights. Voting is one of the most typical expressions of democracy, but if, due to the tyranny of the majority—the so-called ‘will of the people’—the human rights of the country’s citizens are actually severely harmed (as in the case of this U.S. election), what then? Does democracy, at this stage, still have any meaning to uphold?I mean, suppose, at this moment, one party were to take power through undemocratic means, such as election manipulation, a coup, or assassination, but this party’s policies were, comparatively, more protective of human rights than the opposing party’s. From an objective standpoint of justice, should it be supported at this stage?🤔

I think this is indeed an interesting question and I'll try to answer it in two parts.

First, the idea that "democracy exists to protect human rights" is a considerably recent idea, and doesn't actually figure much into classical expressions/conceptions of democracy. As it was originally practiced in Athens, it had nothing to do with safeguarding the rights of marginalized groups (indeed, if anything, the opposite). It was just a system where groups of people, i.e. property-owning citizen men, were allowed to make decisions collectively, but it was still able to be adjourned at any time for a despot (in the classical sense) to resume autocratic authority. It just means a system in which the people (demos) have authority (kratia). That means, therefore, who constitutes as a "person" under the law is one of the longest-running questions (and struggles) in the entire history of the concept.

As it was then thought about in the Enlightenment and the 18th-century context in which the founding fathers wrote the US Constitution, "democracy" was very much the same idea of a small group of "worthy" but ordinary men making decisions in a quasi-elected framework, rather than as a single inherited monarchy. There was still no particular idea that "human rights" was a goal, and would have been foreign to most political theorists. There was an emerging idea of "natural rights" wherein man (and definitely man) was a specially rational creature who had a right to have a say in his government, but yet again, that depended on who was viewed as qualified to have that say. (The answer being, again, white property-owning Christian men.) There have been many constitutional law papers written on how much the founding fathers trusted the American electorate (not very) and how the American government was deliberately designed to work inefficiently in order to slow down the implementation of possibly-stupid decisions (but therefore also potentially-helpful ones). The Electoral College, aside from being an attempt to finesse the slavery question (did slaves count as people for purposes of allotting House representatives? James Madison famously decided they counted as three-fifths of a person), was a further system of indirect republicanism. Likewise, US Senators were not popularly elected on a secret ballot, the same as the president, until the passage of the 17th Amendment in 1913.

Of course at the same time in the 19th-early 20th century, the Civil War, Reconstruction and its end, Jim Crow, women's suffrage movements, were all ongoing, and represented further challenge and revision of what "democracy" meant in the American context, and who counted as a legally recognized person who was thus entitled to have their say in government. It was not until Black people and women began insisting that they did in fact count as people that there was any universal idea of "human rights" as expressed in popular democratic systems. This further developed in the 20th century in the world war context, and then in the decolonization waves in the 1950s and 1960s that dismantled European imperialism and gave rise to a flood of new nation-states. Etc. etc., the Civil Rights movement in America, the gay rights movement starting with Stonewall, and further expansion of who was seen as a person not just in the physical but the legal and actionable sense.

That's why we have political philosophy concepts of "electoral" and "liberal" democracies, and why they're not quite the same. In an electoral democracy, people have the right to vote on and elect their leaders, but there may be less protection of associated "liberal" rights such as freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of expression and assembly, and other characteristics that we think of in terms of protected groups and individual rights. Liberal democracies make a further commitment to protect those rights in addition to the basic principle of voting on your leaders, but as noted, democracy does not inherently protect them and if you have a system where a simple majority vote of 49% can remove rights from the other 48%, you have a problem. Technically, it's still democracy -- the people have voted on it, and one side voted more than the other -- but it's not compatible with justice, which is a secondary question and a whole other debate.

In the modern world, autocrats have often been popularly elected, which is technically a democratic process, but the problem is that once they get there, they start dismantling all the civic processes and safeguards that make the country a democracy, and make it much harder for the opposition to win an election and for power to meaningfully change hands. See for example India (Narendra Modi/BJP), Turkey (Recep Tayyip Erdoğan/AKP), Poland (Jarosław Kaczyński/PiS), Hungary (Viktor Orbán/Fidesz), Russia (Vladimir Putin/United Russia) and America (Donald Trump/GOP). Some of these countries were more democratic than others to start with, but all of them have engaged in either significant democratic erosion or full authoritarian reversion. The US is not -- yet -- at the latter stage, as I have written about the features of the system that make it different from other countries on that list, but it's in the danger zone.

Lastly, the idea of "we're morally better and protect human rights but are willing to launch a coup/assassination/etc of the current government" has been claimed many, many times throughout history. It has never been the case. Not least since if a party in a democratic system, however flawed, is willing to throw aside the core feature of that system, they simply don't respect human rights in any meaningful sense. That's why we kept having "the people's revolutions," especially in the 20th century, that promised to uphold and liberate the working class and all ended up as repressive communist dictatorships functionally indistinguishable from the autocracies or even quasi-democracies they had replaced. In this day and age, does anyone want Online Leftists, who will cancel and viciously attack fellow leftists for tiny disagreements on the internet, deciding that they're going to overthrow the government and announce themselves the great protector of human rights? Aside from the fact that they couldn't do it even if they ever tried and stopped being insane keyboard warriors, I don't think anyone would believe them, and nor should they, because violent antidemocratic groups are bad. This is the sixth-grade level explanation, but it's true.

If you're so drastically committed to your ideology that you're willing to destroy everyone else for not agreeing (and even then, post-revolution, the revolutionaries always start eating each other), then you're not special or enlightened. You're the exact same kind of ideological zealot who has been responsible for most of the worst atrocities throughout history. When "I need to kill for my beliefs but I'll clearly only kill the right people" is your guiding philosophy, the "right people to be killed" quickly expand past any controls or laws. Why not, especially when you've just declared the law to be invalid? Pretty soon you're into death-squads and extrajudicial-assassinations territory, and no matter how soaringly noble your aims were to start with, you've become much worse than what you replaced.

This does not mean "we all have an obligation to obey oppressive governments because the alternative is worse," which has been likewise used by the oppressive governments who benefit from it. It just means that if a democracy is violently overthrown, what emerges from it -- no matter how nice their rhetoric might initially sound -- will invariably be much worse. Winston Churchill famously remarked that democracy is the worst form of government except for all the alternatives, and in this, I tend to agree with him. It sucks, but there's nothing that has yet been invented that can take its place or that has any interest in protecting human rights in the way that 21st-century liberal democracy has generally accepted it has an obligation to do, however partial, flawed, and regressive it can often be. Indeed right now, in this particular historical moment, the only feasible alternative is quite clearly far-right populist fascist theocratic authoritarianism, and that -- for you fortunate Americans who have never lived under anything like that -- is much, much worse. So yeah.

#sweatyzipperzinebagel-blog #ask #history #american history #modern history #the national nightmare

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sumbarbietingz · 1 month ago

Text

Burning Desires

You start working for Toji Zenin, the famous CEO of Zenin Inc. But your relationship won't stay professional for too long as attraction comes in the way

Chapter 1 : Welcome to Zenin Inc.

CEO!Toji x black!fem character

The series contains : smut (dom!toji, age diff, degradation and praise kink, choking, hair pulling, rough sex, foreplay, boundage, squirting, creampie and breeding kink) fluff, angst (mention of SA, violence, mental health issues, mention of teenage pregnancy, mention of death)

Words count: 4,5k

You can see the nword sometimes too lol.

Mazikeen is a talented and hardworking individual who has applied for a position as Toji Zenin’s new secretary. She's confident and articulate, with a sharp mind and an ability to keep things organized and running smoothly. It's the day of Maze's job interview, and she's feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement as she walks into Toji's office building. He’s a wealthy and successful businessman and Zenin Inc. is a prestigious company who’s worth billions of dollars. She's also heard rumors about him being a difficult boss and a tough negotiator, but she's determined to make a good impression and land the job.

As she steps into Toji's office for the interview, she's taken aback by his intimidating presence. He's sitting behind his desk, looking every bit the powerful CEO he is. He gestures for her to sit down in the chair opposite him, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘I knew he was hot but GODDAMN HE’S A GOD!’ Is what she’s thinking deep down as she takes a seat. She can smell his expensive cologne from where she’s sitting, the perfume intoxicating her senses.

"So, you're here to apply for the position of my secretary," Toji says, his voice low and gravelly. "What makes you think you're qualified for this job?"

Maze feels butterflies in her stomach once she hears his voice. This man is already affecting her after a single sentence and a few seconds of entering his office. Takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before speaking. "Sir, I have experience in administrative work, excellent organizational skills, and a strong work ethic," she says confidently. "I also can handle confidential information discreetly."

Toji raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed by her confident tone. "I see" he says, leaning back in his chair. "And what do you know about the demands of this job? It's not just about pencil-pushing and answering phone calls. It requires a great deal of multitasking and the ability to handle stressful situations with composure."

Maze nods, already mentally prepared for his questions. "I fully understand the demands of the job. I'm able to work under pressure, prioritize tasks, and manage multiple projects at once. I know how to deal with difficult situations and maintain a level head even in challenging circumstances."

Toji studies her for a moment, his eyes never leaving her face. He can see the determination and confidence in her expression, and it's admirable. "You seem capable" his tone less cold than before. "But being a secretary requires a certain level of trust and loyalty. Can I trust you to keep my private affairs confidential?"

"Absolutely, sir" Maze responds immediately. "Your privacy and the confidential nature of your work are of the utmost importance to me. I assure you that I would never betray your trust or disclose any sensitive information without your explicit permission."

Toji nods, seemingly satisfied with her response. "Good. But being my secretary also means that you'll be working closely with me, attending meetings and events by my side. Are you prepared for that kind of exposure and scrutiny?"

Maze nods confidently again. "I'm prepared to be a visible member of your team and represent you in public settings. I'm good with people and have the ability to handle any inquiries or interactions with finesse and professionalism."

Toji leans forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. "This job also requires a significant amount of travel. Are you willing to accompany me on business trips, often at short notice and often to different time zones?"

Maze doesn’t answer directly, she hesitates and Toji notices that.

"What’s the problem?"

Maze takes a deep breath before replying "Nothing sir."

See the thing is, Toji has a liar detector test for a brain. He knows something is going on. So he picks back up her resume, and reads it while talking to her

"Do you have maybe family members to take care of or something?" He notices her birth date. 22 years old? She’s basically a baby. How come she already has so many experiences?

Maze nods "I got a daughter."

His eyes widen slightly. She’s a mom? He would’ve never guessed "How old is she?"

"She’s 7" Maze replies

Toji keeps his composure but he’s genuinely shocked to learn that she has a 7 yo while being so young. A lot of things become more clear now. "I see. Just so you know, the company provides services for the parents. Such as babysitting and long-term babysitting for the employees who have to travel. And don’t worry, all our babysitters are licensed and pros."

Maze feels a wave of relief once she hears that, even though she doesn’t like the idea of leaving her daughter to someone else for more than a day. But she knows she needs this job. "I’m glad to hear that. I’m prepared to travel whenever and wherever you need me. I understand the importance of flexibility and being able to adapt to new surroundings quickly." She responds confidently now

Toji leans back in his chair, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. He's impressed by her responses, her confidence and determination, and her willingness to adapt to his demanding schedule despite having a child. "Very well. You seem to be a capable candidate. But there's one more thing I need to know..." He leans forward, his eyes intense as they lock with hers. "You need to be able to handle me," he says, his tone serious. "I'm not an easy person to work for. I'm demanding, and I have little patience for excuses or mistakes. Are you prepared for that?"

Maze doesn't waver under his intense gaze, her confidence unwavering. "I understand the nature of your expectations, sir. And I'm more than prepared to handle the demands of the job and the challenges that come with working for you. I'm not one to back down from a challenge."

Toji studies her for another moment, his eyes searching hers for any hint of doubt. But all he sees is determination and confidence staring back at him. He can't help the flicker of satisfaction he feels as he leans back in his chair. "You have a strong spirit. I like that."

"Thank you, sir" Maze responds, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I believe determination and perseverance are important qualities for any job, but especially for being your secretary."

Toji nods, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "Alright, then," he says, folding his hands on his desk. "I think I've seen enough. The HR department will contact you for an update."

Maze nods, standing up from her seat. "Thank you for your time, sir," she says while gathering her things. "It's been a pleasure speaking with you." She leaves his office, the sounds of her heels resonating in the room

Toji watches as she turns to leave, his eyes lingering on her figure for a moment before she disappears out the door. There's something about her that intrigues him, her determination and confidence, unlike anyone he's met before. But his thoughts go back to her age and her child. So many things pop up in his mind. Was she reckless and didn’t protect herself? Did the birth control fail? Did her parents pressure her to keep the baby? Or maybe she wanted to face the consequences of her actions and not run away? Or maybe she couldn’t get an abortion? So many theories come and go until a phone call breaks him out of his reverie.

A few days later Maze is at work, getting restless since the HR department still hasn’t called her back yet. She eventually thinks that she didn’t convince Toji and that she’ll have to forget about this opportunity. As she keeps typing on her computer, her phone buzzes, but she doesn’t recognize the number. She picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Mazikeen Washington?" a pleasant voice on the other end of the line inquired.

"Yes it is." She says curiously

"Great, I'm calling from the Human Resources department of Zenin Incorporated. We have an update for you regarding your recent job interview with Mr. Toji Zenin."

"Oh, um, yes. I'm listening," Maze says, her heart racing even faster now. It’s the call she had been waiting for all week.

"We're pleased to inform you that your interview went very well," the HR representative said. "Mr. Zenin was very impressed with you and has personally requested that you join his team as his new secretary."

Maze gasp, her eyes widening in surprise, she feels a burst of excitement "Really?"

"Yes, he does" the HR representative confirmes. "Mr. Zenin was very enthusiastic about your qualifications and your confidence during the interview. He feels that you would be a valuable addition to his team."

"I, um, wow…" Maze stutters, still trying to process the news. "This is... unexpected. But, I mean, I'm honored. l'd be happy to accept the position."

"Excellent, we just need to finalize some paperwork and arrange a start date. Would you be available to come to our office sometime this week to sign the necessary documents?"

Maze replies, her mind spinning with with excitement "Yes, of course, when would be convenient for you? I'm free anytime."

"How about tomorrow afternoon around 2 p.m.? That way, we can get all the paperwork taken care of and you can start the job as soon as possible." She suggests

"Tomorrow afternoon works perfectly I’ll be there at 2 p.m." she agrees

"Great, we’ll see you then. And congratulations on your new position, Ms. Washington."

"Thank you so much," Maze says, her voice filled with gratitude. "I'm looking forward to joining Mr. Zenin's team."

She ends the call, and Maze stands there for a moment, trying to digest the news. She couldn’t believe it - she had gotten the job. She’s going to be working directly for Toji Zenin, the handsome and intimidating CEO who had captivated her thoughts for days.2 months later, Maze adapted to her new workplace at Zenin Incorporate. She's cordial with the majority of her colleagues, but the one she started being friends with outside of work is Jay (Jayna) Malone. These two are basically twins. Regarding her job, everything is going smoothly. The paycheck is good, she got to spend time with Nya her daughter, her duties are not as exhausting as she expected them to be, and as for Toji... there's definitely something going on in the air. She notices the way his hand lingers a bit too long when he gives her some files, she notices the way he looks for eye contact when he comes into the building when the entire lobby goes quiet in his presence, this tension whenever he calls her in his office or when he comes in hers... Trusting Jay enough she talked about all these small details and Jay came to the conclusion Maze thinks deep down herself: he's attracted to her. Maze being the reasonable one still thinks this is all in their head and even if he is attracted to her, nothing will happen, because after all, well, he's her boss. Jay being the wild and reckless friend tells her to go for it anyway. Because he’s ‘hot as fuck, rich as fuck, built like a brick wall and he prolly fuck good’. Horny bitch.

It’s Friday and per usual Maze is answering phone calls, doing Excel spreadsheets, and planning Toji’s schedule, when she hears the door knocking.

"Come in!"

The door opens and Toji comes inside her office. He’s wearing that black suit that’s almost too tight for his muscular body. He smells like that usual expensive cologne that drives Maze crazy.

"Come in my office," He says, his voice indicating that it’s an order

She nods "Yes Mr Zenin." She’s used to his demanding tone, he warned her about it after all. She stands up and follows him outside. His office is right next to hers so it takes her 10 seconds to be there. She opens the door and comes in, his large and organized desk, his red velvet sofa on the corner and the large windows that offer a beautiful view of the city, greeting her per usual.

But her heart skips a beat once she hears the sound of the door being locked. She swallows and slowly turns around, noticing something different in Toji’s expression. It’s not his usual nonchalant and composed look, it’s darker… and lustful. He has his hands in his pockets as he slowly approaches her, like a predator ready to jump on its prey. "You feel it too don’t you."

She slowly walks back, her heart beating like crazy. "Feel what Mr Zenin?"

He rolls his eyes as he keeps approaching you. "You know damn well what I’m talking about. This tension whenever we’re alone. I know you feel it as much as I do."

She keeps walking back slowly. God, he’s right, but she didn’t want to admit it. Of course, she feels it too. This consuming need to kiss him senseless, to be taken by him anywhere he wanted, those butterflies in her stomach whenever the two of them made eye contact in the middle of a reunion. She felt everything. "I don’t know what you’re talking about Mr Zenin."

"Don’t lie to me Maze. I see the way you look at me. The eye contacts we keep making."

She suddenly feels his desk hitting the back of her thighs, her heart beats so fast she feels like it might burst out of her chest. She can feel herself breathing a bit faster. "I…"

Toji is now in her personal space. He puts his hands on the edge of the desk to cage her. He can feel her sweet vanilla perfume filling his nostrils and her body heat radiating. Maze bites her lip at the proximity, she can feel his hard chest against her own. He’s so intoxicating. He comes closer to her face, his warm breath caressing her lips

"Tell me Maze. Tell me you don’t feel anything. Tell me you don’t want me, and I won’t insist." He says his voice deep, almost a whisper.

"Mr Zenin… I… we… we can’t…" she says whispering, her mind yelling at her to say no, but her body telling her to say yes.

Toji chuckles and caresses her jawline with his finger, the touch sending shivers down her spine "I’m the boss sweetheart, besides that’s not what I asked. I want a clear answer." He responds, his voice soft yet firm. He’s now licking her lower lip, causing her to whimper softly. Her body is in heat, she can’t take it anymore.

"Say it Maze. Say you want me as much as I want you"

Maze feels like she’s being tented by the devil, like she’s Eve, and the snake is telling her to eat the forbidden fruit while whispering sweet nothings in her ear. She lets a shaky breath as she finally answers

"I… I want yo- mmph!" She barely has time to answer that Toji crashes his lips against hers with a loud groan, relieved he can finally taste her. He holds her by her jaw as he kisses her freveletly. Maze moans against his mouth, she sits on his desk and wraps her legs around his hips, feeling his arousal against hers. The kiss is heated, it’s a mess of tongues dancing together, moans and groans. Toji keeps his mouth against hers while he clumsily takes of his vest, so does Maze with her own. She removes her heals with her feet and her hands run on Toji’s chest, feeling his hard defined muscles under her fingers. Toji groans and leaves her lips to attack her neck, leaving kisses and love bites on it. Maze moans while unbuttoning his shirt. Once she’s done she helps Toji taking it off and finally sees the beauty that was hidden behind these expensive Zegna and Versace suits. She caresses his chest in lust and admiration, feeling his muscles flexing.

"My turn." Before Maze can say anything he lifts her shirt and pushes her on the desk, so he can take her breast in his mouth, humming as he suckles on her brown nipples while massaging her tits. She moans and feels her panties getting wetter and wetter by his ministrations "Mmm… Mr Zenin…"

"I think we’re past the point of formalities here. Call me Toji." He says between suctions. Maze nods while breathing heavily, feeling excited but also a bit embarrassed to call her boss by his name. But oh well he’s getting breastfed by her so embarrassment should be the least of her concerns. "O-okay… Toji" she breathes out

"Mmm, that’s it, sweetheart. Much better. I wanna hear you moan my name, not Mr Zenin" he grinds his bulge against her core, already impatient to be inside her. Maze hisses in pleasure from all the sensations "Fuck… mmh keep sucking on my tits while you rub your dick on my clit…"

Toji chuckles "You don’t get to tell me what to do darling" Then he stops, causing her to whine in protest. He grabs her by the throat and lifts her back up. "I’m still your boss remember? And I want you to do everything I ask you to do without discussing my orders, even now. Understood?"

Maze didn’t realize how much she loved being controlled like this until now. She bites her lip and nods eagerly "Anything you want Toji~"

"Good girl." He takes a step back and brings Maze closer to him by her neck. "Kneel." He says, his voice deep and dominating, indicating no back talk will be allowed. Maze nods and slowly gets on her knees, her eyes not leaving his.

Seeing her on her knees for him, looking at him with this needy expression on her face turns Toji on Even more. He has imagined it multiple times but seeing the real thing is better than anything. "Undress me then suck my cock."

Maze feels like a pool has formed between her legs. She can’t wait to finally have him in her mouth, so she quickly unbuckles his pants and undress him. And once she pulls his boxers down, she almost moans at the sight that greets her. This man couldn’t be more perfect. His length is huge and veiny, leaving a very small amount of pubic hair, and his balls are big. She lifts her skirt and starts rubbing her clit as she gets ready to lick the tip. But Toji’s grip on her neck tightens a bit. "Ah ah ah sweetheart. Don’t touch yourself. You’re not allowed to do that yet"

She whines again "But Toji I wanna-" She gets cut off with a gasp as she feels his grip tightening more, "I said. Don’t. Touch. Yourself." His voice is deeper, making it clear that he won’t allow disobedience.

She nods quickly and removes her hand to place both of them on his hips for balance, as she starts licking his cock. Toji groans softly and lets go of her neck to place his hand behind her head, his fingers playing with her tight curls. "Mmh… that’s it baby"

It doesn’t take long for Maze to suck his dick like a starving woman. She spits on it, gags and chokes on it, lets the drool flow on her chest, and makes sure to exaggerate every sound that comes out of her, meanwhile Toji groans in pleasure as he tightens his grip on her hair. "Fuck… you’re so good…" He loves how she’s behaving like a pornstar and how she’s feasting on him like he’s her last meal. "You look so slutty while sucking me. You look like you enjoy it too" he chuckles

Maze removes his length from her mouth, letting out a ragged exhale "Yes… so much…" She then licks and sucks his balls while stroking him. Toji grunts then grabs her by the hair and pulls her head back, admiring her mouth covered in spit, her brown and pink lips swollen, her runny nose and teary eyes. He bites his lip at the view, she looks so perfect, messy for him.

"Go lay on the desk" Maze nods and immediately obeys him, she’s shivering in anticipation. Toji stands between her legs and lifts her skirt up to her stomach, not bothering to take it off. He takes off her panties throws them somewhere and admires her body. She’s stunning. Her brown little pussy was already so wet and ready for him, her curvy body on display for him. She’s perfect. He grabs her thighs and slowly lowers his head. "You’re beautiful." Is the last thing he says before licking her wet core.

Maze lets out a deep moan, her aching clit finally gets some attention, and it feels so good. She runs her fingers through his hair and with her other hand she grips the desk. He’s a real pro. He knows where to lick and suck, how to make her moan louder and make her grip his hair harder. He also spits on her clit, he wants it to be messy. Toji grunts once he feels the way her hips start riding his face. But once again, he’s the one in control, so he grabs her hips tightly and pins them back firmly on the desk to show her she’s not in charge. But Maze loves it. She loves the way Toji dominates her and he knows that. He keeps eating her pussy up and down, left and right, wanting to generate more of those sweet moans. She starts breathing heavily, her legs are shaking, and she feels the orgasm coming. "T-toji im gonna cum…" Then Toji inserts two fingers in her gummy walls, folding them inside her, and moves them back and forth while he licks and sucks her clit. That does it for Maze. She cries out and sees stars as she feels the wave of her orgasm crushing her. Toji moans when he hears the beauty of her moan, he wants more, so much more from her.

He takes his fingers out, lifts his head, and sees a look of pure bliss on her face, her eyes are half-lidded and she’s panting hard. He grabs her by the throat again and kisses her so she can taste herself. She moans against his mouth and passes her tongue on his lower lip. Toji breaks the kiss and brings the fingers he used to finger her into her mouth. Maze doesn’t hesitate and sucks on his fingers, humming while looking him in the eyes. "Mmm… you’re such a naughty little secretary." She nods while she keeps sucking. He removes his fingers and pushes her back on the desk. She knows what’s coming and she can’t wait, even though she’s still sensitive from the orgasm.

He grabs his dick and rubs her pussy lips with the tip. Without wasting another second, he slides inside of her, which causes her to gasp and let out a long moan of pleasure and pain from his girth. "T-toji... you're stretching me.." He only chuckles as he moves his hips slowly but deeply. "That's the point. I want your pussy to be able to only take my dick and mine alone. I'm gonna fucking ruin you, sweetheart. You want that?" She's so lost in the pleasure that she simply agrees with him. "Yes... yes... ruin me..."

He groans and grabs her hips "Good girl, now shut up and take it." After that, he goes faster and harder, which makes the desk rock hard. Maze is completely lost in ecstasy. He's stretching her in a way she never thought could be possible from a single person, his thick tip keeps poking her cervix as if it's trying to go deeper inside her, it's too much. But it feels incredibly good. All she can do is take his treatment and moan loudly, her voice resonating in his office along with the skin-on-skin noises. Then he pulls out and flips her easily. He grabs her thick ass, smacks it, and buries himself inside her again.

He keeps the same pace from earlier, which makes Maze moan louder from the new angle. He makes both Maze and the desk rock fast with his powerful thrusts. Her eyes roll to the back of her skull as downright pornographic moans and random words escape her mouth "Ouuuu Toji…. It feels so good…" He groans pushes her flat on the desk and grabs a hold of her hair while keeping his thrusts unforgiving. Her ass claps and jiggles against him, her curves drive him crazy. "You love being fucked senseless like a whore uh?" She nods like a dumbass, his dick has turned her brain into mush "Yes… yes… yessss… I love when you fuck me like a whore…" she says in between moans, barely even able to speak properly as tears come running on her face to ruin her makeup. He lets go of her hair to grab her cheeks so he can have a better look at her. He sees the face of a woman who having the best sex of her life, her mascara running down her cheeks. And this beautiful, dumb look on her face makes his cock twitch. With the way her pussy keeps pulsating around him he can tell she’s getting close to cum again.

So while he’s still inside her, he lifts her and walks towards the massive windows of his office. Maze gasps in surprise, but she can’t deny how much she loves being picked up so easily and manhandled by Toji. Once they’re at the window, he puts her down and pushes her against it, her tits pressed against the cold glass sends shivers down her spine, a sweet contrast to the hot temperature of her body. Toji keeps the same pace, making Maze moan again, her cheek, hands, and breasts pressed hard against the surface. Eventually, she feels another orgasm coming, and her pussy clenches around his cock, swallowing him completely. "Toji… I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna cum…" He grabs her hips tighter, his pace staying the same "I know baby I can feel you getting close. Cum for me. Cum on my dick." It doesn’t take her too long after that to come undone again, a loud cry of pleasure resonates in the room. Her legs are shaking uncontrollably, she’s sweating like crazy and her breath becomes ragged. This orgasm was so powerful that she was barely able to move again. After a few more thrusts, it’s finally Toji’s turn to reach his orgasm. He grunts and quickly pulls out, strokes himself a few times, and cums on her ass, the warm semen dripping down her butt. He wraps his arms around her waist and pants against her neck. "That was amazing, right sweetheart?" She doesn’t even answer as her mind is now clear, and regret instantly hits her like a truck.

‘Oh God. What have I done?’

#jjk men #jjk smut #jjk toji #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen

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