#he just wanted to mess with bats

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Tim Encounters a Fae at a Gala

Which may be a problem, yes, but the much more alarming part? The Fae looks like Damian.

"This is pretty boring, don't you think?"

The voice comes from behind, and Tim recognizes it instantly, but at the same time, he doesn't. He's never heard Damian talk like this, easy and a little amused, with no usual stiffness to his speech. Yet this couldn't be anyone else - being a vigilante means you can never drop your guard even in your civilian identity, and who other than Damian could have sneaked up on him?

He turns around.

It is Damian, and at the same time, it's not. The boy looks just like the demon child, the same face, same height and skin tone, the same way he puts his hair. But something is wrong. The way he holds himself, his relaxed and almost lazy posture, the absence of a usual scowl on his face, the way he feels comfortable here, in a crowd of people.

And his eyes, when he looks at Tim. Icy blue, almost translucent, like the color of icebergs and glaciers.

The not-Damian tilts his head a little and smiles just slightly. Tim blinks, realizing that there was a question, and he just stares at the boy instead of answering.

"Yeah, sure," he clears his throat and breaks the eye contact, looking away from not-Damian's eyes, his thoughts a frantic mess. Is this another clone? Or some kind of a shapeshifter? In any case, they approached Tim first, he can't lose his chance at gaining some information. So Tim smiles back, "Is it your first time? At the gala, I mean."

Now, when he looks at the boy again, the stricking resemblance doesn't hit him so hard. Instead, Tim notices something else - the boy is... eerily beautiful. He's never noticed Damian looking this nice - because that would be kind of creepy if he did, - but this not-Damian is... He can't really put it into words.

He's just beautiful.

Almost unnaturally so.

"You could say that," not-Damian answers, looking over the crowd around them, "I'm not used to so many people around, but I've seen my fair share of social gatherings."

Tim blinks. That statement compiled with his absolute lack of any kind of nervousness makes little sense.

Alright, he needs to get at least some information from the mystery twin. He is a detective, for god's sake.

"Are you here with someone?" That can be a useful question. Tim sure as hell knows that Bruce could not invite some Damian lookalike without prior warning, which means the boy had to come as someone's plus one. Or he sneaked in with no invitation, that's also a possibility.

"My godfather should be here somewhere," not-Damian nods, scanning the crowd before nodding his chin in the direction of a small cluster of people. Tim follows his gaze and finds a white-haired man in a matching white and silver suit in the middle of telling some kind of story.

"Vladimir Masters?" He questions with a noticeable amount of disbelief. The man never said a word about having a godson. Ever. And Tim did a thorough background check on the owner of DalvCo.

"Got it in one," not-Damian grins. Is it just Tim, or do his teeth really look sharper than they are supposed to?

Come to think of it, his ears are also not as round as they should be.

Unnatural beauty, sharp teeth and pointy ears, questions answered in a vague and unclear way. And Tim hadn't noticed him blink even once.

He has a guess. He doesn't like it, it's a very, very bad guess, but Tim is a Bat, a Robin, and a Detective. He knows when he needs to trust his gut even if his gut is telling him absolute nonsense.

He just needs to make sure.

Tim swallows the anxious feeling in the back of his throat and turns back to not-Damian, smiling:

"I think I didn't catch your name?" He does his best at sounding confused and not alarmed. The boy's grin widens just a bit, but Tim feels a cold shiver run down his back, and his mind is all but screaming for him to run away for this is not human, and whatever it is, it is dangerous.

"Would you give me yours in exchange?" The boy's voice is soft and easy, not a hint of mischief. Just a casual question. Maybe a little teasing.

Tim's blood runs cold as he tries to remember everything he has ever read and heard about the fair folk. Never give them your name, but there has to be a way to answer this question, right?

"You may call me Damian," he finally answers. Maybe this is a risk, calling himself his brother's name, but Tim feels like this is somehow a right thing to do since the boy - the creature - looks like him.

Not-Damian's eyebrows shoot up, and there's a hint of surprise in his eyes when he starts quietly laughing. The heavy pressure of the air around him disappears at the sound of the crystalline laughter, like it was never there. Tim feels like he had just disarmed a bomb or passed a test with his own life at stake. Maybe he actually did.

"Clever," the boy grins again and nods politely, bowing his head down like they are at a medieval ball and not a gala, "My name is Danny. It is nice to meet my brother's brother."

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[jadewritesficshere]

Just thinking about s4 but when Alpha!Eddie grabs Steve to shove the bottle against his neck, he doesn't realize Steve is an omega and accidentally scruffs him. And Steve is just boneless, kinda goes down. And Eddie isn't expecting deadweight and almost falls ontop of Steve but realizes what's happening (let's just say he's fought off a few bullies who scruffed members of his pack). He immediately drops the bottle and holds onto Steve, who tries to scent Eddie. Just shoves his face into Eddie's neck and nuzzles it, lets out a purr unintentionally.

[sugarhog-au]

Good question

[oceanwithouthermoon]

me after finding out that another aroace saiki truther is actually just aphobic and pretending i didnt know all along

[wolfjackle-creates]

Me again! I figured I'd send my second request as a separate ask so that you can answer them individually, but what about the Something to Feel story?

So I love that the dpxdc isn't as into shipping as some other fandoms. Like, it's obviously super present, but the ship is (usually) secondary to the plot. At least in a lot of the fics I read.

But I do like me some smut, too. And there's not nearly as much of it here as there was in my last major fandom (Good Omens).

When I discovered Dixon Dallas, his songs made my fingers itch to write something smutty. But the vibe just doesn't fit Aziraphale and Crowley. They need something softer and more devoted.

Then I started imagining Danny and Jason and ghost!instincts and, well. Here we are.

If you like the music, you might find this helpful.

I'm afraid I don't have more written yet. But I'm having so much fun with this fic I won't be able to put it aside for long. (Especially since I know it won't be a long fic!)

Actually, wait! I do have something I can talk about.

Barbara is just casually using Gotham's cameras to spy on her friends and family as one does when she sees something strange.

Jason has someone pushed up against a wall and is kissing them. And a guy at that. He'd never mentioned anything about being into guys before.

But... wait. Did the guy just punch Jason? And immediately run away? Why is Jason chasing after him? Are his eyes green? Better call Dick. See if he knows what might have set Jason off. The pits have never cause him to act like this before.

Basically, I want Barbara and Dick to get entirely the wrong idea about what is going on. They think Jason in a pit rage chased Danny down and assaulted him.

So Dick goes to confront Jason.

He finds Jason in his apartment making a pie and forming the dough for the top into rose shapes or something stupidly romantic. And Jason has to explain that "yes, it was all consensual, no I can't explain it, and yes I will be seeing him again. Do you think he likes cherry pie?"

[firelise]

I hope Mew introduces the idea of polyamory to Top I would love that actually. Just a simple lil "why not? I love you but I've only ever had sex with you, and you've had sex with literally millions of people, that doesn't seem fair does it? what if I want to experience other people but still be with you? What if I wanna try a threesome? What if I want you to watch me fuck this very nice man in front of you? You don't know what I want. Who's to say..."

[rustedleopard]

source on Flint?

The dirt.

Okay, joke answer aside, I'll put the source under the cut...

I'm going to assume that you're likely referring to the fun fact tidbit that I posted yesterday about Flint originally intended to be involved in the Jealous Bass boss fight.

The Cutting Room Floor has an archive of stuff that was cut from Mother 3 but still exists as data within the game. If you scroll down to Flint, you'll see that he has unused sprites for dodging the train, which is an event that happens in chapter 4.

And if you put Flint into your party as the second party member in debug mode then go to the train, he will dodge the train with that sprite animation. Compare that to Claus, who when programmed to be the second party member, does dodge the train like intended (and Boney, as the third party member, does not) but does not display the proper animation for this motion, we can see that while the behavior of jumping out of the way is programmed into the second party member, they only have the proper sprite for the scene if they're supposed to be there. This tells us that Flint was supposed to be involved in Chapter 4, at least up until the train, but was cut late into development. The only thing that stops Flint from jumping out of the way is the fact that he isn't there.

We also have a cut animation of what appears to be Flint clinging onto the airship, which is what Lucas and the rest of his party does at the end of chapter 5. Now, can I say with absolute certainty that this is what this animation is intended for? No, because I wasn't on the development team. But considering how closely that sprite of Flint resembles the rest of the party in that scene:

And how close Chapters 4 and 5 are to each other, as well as how the Spaceworld (1999) Earthbound 64 trailer* (apologies for the blurriness, but TCRF does have a clearer image of this scene on their website) does show Flint, along with Lucas, Claus, Duster, and Boney clinging to an airship, it's easy to deduce that's it's highly likely that Flint was intended to be in the party at least up until the party separation at the end of Chapter 5.

Also, so no one could say that that animation of Flint was actually supposed to be for Chapter 7 when Lucas and company were clinging onto the bird cage, here's a screenshot of that. You can see that if Flint was involved here, his animation would've had him hanging on from the wrong direction (apologies for the Lucas mooning).

[Also as a small aside: while not exactly evidence on its own but something worth pointing out, there is a notable difficulty spike in Chapter 4 when there's only Lucas and Boney in the party. The enemies at this point in the game the can wipe your party quite easily if you're not careful, and I always struggled against them even in the standard mode and I'm sure I'm not the only person who experienced this (while the game tells you not to mess with the Cattlesnakes, there's nothing to stop the Horsantulas and Ostrelephants from running right at you and initiating a battle). Having a heavy hitter in your party like Flint would've made the chimeras outside of Club Titiboo as well as the Jealous Bass easier. Again though, I'm not going to use my experiences as evidence because it could just be that I'm not good at the game.]

So, we have a timeframe that says that Flint was supposed to be in the party from around the beginning of Chapter 4 to at least the end of Chapter 5, which is well within the timeframe that the Jealous Bass boss fight occurs. Now, of course, just because there's evidence that Flint was supposed to be in the party for Chapters 4 and 5 doesn't mean that he would've been involved in the Jealous Bass boss fight with a 100% certainty. Flint could've been rendered incapable of participating in the attic dungeon (and, subsequently, that fight) for one reason or another. Maybe he gets locked in the bathroom while showering? Who knows? While it would've been an odd story direction, I wasn't the one making those sorts of decisions, so I can't say with absolute unshakable faith that he was going to be there. And for that, I apologize. I have changed the wording of that post a bit so it's a bit more ambiguous. There's nothing I can do for versions that have been reblogged unfortunately, but at least the base post reflects that. But there's at least enough evidence to prove that this is likely what was intended to happen.

* While I do not consider Earthbound 64 and Mother 3 the same games, it's undeniable that Earthbound 64 did lay the grounds for the direction that Mother 3 went in. If the only piece of evidence I had for Flint clinging to the airship was from that trailer alone, I would not have used it.

[ailithnight]

So, DC timelines are perpetually baffling to me, so I'm not certain, but I think the Justice League formed after Dick became Robin. So...

Bruce: Need to call Zatanna.

Dick: Who's Zatanna?

Bruce: A friend.

Dick, tensing, suddenly suspicious: Since when do you have friends?

Bruce: . . . *sigh* It's [date], chum. You are younger than you should be and I've made friends by now.

I have an obsession with Batfam meets the Justice League fics and headcanons in general, and my favorite situation is when the JL fully knows Nightwing, he's on the team, they all like him quite a bit, and he's so charming and open seeming that they all collectively forget that they don't know anything about him.

I want that, then on a mission, fighting a magic user of some sort, Nightwing gets zapped back to young Robin age. So everyone else on said mission is left confronted with 9 year old Dick Grayson in full Robin gear, who is fully ready to fight every single one of them, and they generally have no idea what's happening or who this child is, other than the fact that he's probably young Nightwing, except he won't answer to that name.

And Dick, extremely confused and suspicious because he doesn't know half of the people there, and the ones that he is aware of are wearing different costumes or are just straight up different people than they're supposed to be, proceeds to try and fight them, then actively try to run away.

Then they finally manage to wrangle him back to the Watchtower, trying to grapple with the implications that Nightwing has been a highly trained, costume vigilante since childhood, and managed to break a bone in Green Arrow's hand before they subdued him, and is still thrashing around and trying to bite various League members.

They call Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman in to see if they have any idea what to do with him, and when Robin sees Batman, he squirms out of Flash's grasp, runs to Batman, and climbs up his side until he's wrapped himself around his shoulders like he does it every day.

The Bat lets this happen, sighs in exasperation, then calls Zatanna to help.

The League is then left to piece together why tiny child Nightwing ran to Batman for safety, and why Batman seems a whole lot less confused than everyone else.

[thecoolerbatgirl]

Hey if you see a guy covered in pink glitter, go ahead and kick his ass <3

I mean I already did but dude's a predator so you can always kick it harder and I made sure that shit'll stick

[tonycries]

50 Shades of Kento - N.K.

Synopsis. You help your hot uptight boss blow off some much-needed steam, and he makes an absolute mess of you - that annoyingly flirty new employee of his. Deal?

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! flirty!reader, CEO! Nanami, office AU, pánty-stealing, jealousy (Nanami’s side), Higuruma cameo, he goes FÉRAL, ROUGH S, chokíng, semi-public, manhandIing, p talking, p sIapping, spítting, slight angry s, he’s BIG, cervíx kíssing, talking you through it, oraI (fem rec.), creampíes, cúmplay, male mast., ínnuendos, no curses AU, slight bóndage, use of “work wife”, proposals, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 9.7k

A/N. CEO Nanami? I wanna be SAVED.

“-the boss looks really mad-”

“-where’s he storming off to before the meeting?”

“Bet he’s going to fire someone again-”

Now, it’s not like Nanami Kento intentionally built himself such a painfully strict reputation in the office. 

In fact, he’d spent the first few months as CEO wondering just what he might have done to make it so that none of his employees could even look him in the eye. Hell, they barely even seemed to breathe whenever he passed by. 

All of them except you - that pretty new hire always buzzing around his department. Even when it might not be too…professional. 

But, right now, professionalism was the last thing on his mind. 

“Dammit. Dammit.” Nanami’s hissing, sharp edges of his pearly whites sinking into his bottom lip to stifle away a ragged moan. Hard enough to bruise when he shuts the nearest bathroom stall with a resounding clatter! “B-before a meeting, too-”

Barely wasting even a split-second before unbuckling his belt and inching his greedy hand past the too-tight hem-

All because of you and that damn skirt.

“God fucking dammit-” His voice tumbles out in heady puffs into the air, murked with a growling tint of desperation.

Fingers usually so dexterous and deft whenever he’s typing away, now fumbling with the mere latch on his stubborn zipper. He’s spitting out a few slews of profanities before panting out an impatient tut and all but ripping his formal slacks down to his knees. 

Nanami’s sculpted thighs weaken, smearing out widely as he leans his back against the firmly shut door with a groan. Cold against his feverish body. 

Shit, he’d barely even touched himself yet already feels like he’s melting.

Because Nanami wasn’t just rock-hard - it was as if his swollen cock was built out of fucking diamonds. 

Hot. Heavy. Sobbing out a glistening streak of precum that slobbers access his washboard abs and wayyy down to his tawny happy trail. He wanted you. He needed you. 

“Fuh-fuck!” He gasps, instantaneously clamping his delirious mouth shut. Loosening that yellow speckled tie just so he can breathe, “Never been sooo fucking h-hard. Shit this isn’t- fuck.”

Achy red shaft throbbing out a needy ba-dump—! in his meaty palm, ribbons of treacly pre splatter in copious torrents down to his angled wrist. He’s making such a puddling mess all over the tiled floor, swiping up the fatly padded curve of his thumb to plug up those never-ending droplets. 

“N’ this is all your hngh- fucking fault.” Nanami’s canines glint in the dimmed lighting, snarled at that strawberry pink blush on his mushroomed tip. The very same shade of pink to match your flimsy panties today. Fuck. “Should fire you. Should really, r-really…”

But the heaving man can’t even finish those syllables, can barely even finish his thought before it’s once more overtaken by that image of you from only a few simple minutes ago. 

Knees bent to pick up some useless document for the meeting, too-short skirt hiking up just enough to flash him a good eyeful of your cute pink panties. You looked like the sweetest fucking dessert in it, and that adorable bow fastened onto your underwear was just the erotic cherry on top. 

That memory was going to burn behind his lids for the rest of his life. And oh, he could tell. 

That glint in your gorgeous eyes - how you’d batted your lashes up at him in exactly the way that made him gulp - told him everything he needed to know. 

You knew. Oh, how you pissed him off. 

“Sh-shit.” The thought makes Nanami’s poor heart race, plump balls twitching oh-so-eagerly when he dips into the side of his pants pocket to pull out something treasured. His secret good luck charm. “Know exactly what you’re fucking- hah- doing t’me. W-with your damn panties, n’ those skirts I hate and- and-”

And if anyone else had seen the uptight CEO of Jujutsu Tech right now, then they would have fainted. Undoubtely. Because dipping out of his pocket, he’s pulling out nothing but a frilly black garter.

Yours.

The very same one you’d “accidentally” slipped off in your chair after a meeting with him last month.

“Mmm—” He’s drinking back a few swallows of candied saliva once he brings the gauzy fabric up to his nose and sniffs. Long. Hard. The stuffy stall air notches up a few scorching degrees higher when Nanami curls his free digits around his bulky base and squeezes. “Bet that pretty pussy smells even s-sweeter.”

The thought only makes his slacked maw water even more guiltily. Bet you taste sweeter, too.

And like an animal, Nanami’s hunching his Herculean body over to spit out a steady stream of saliva right onto the bawling divot in the middle of his bloated cockhead. Watching it slosh in rivulets down his pulsing length.

Calloused thumb swiping over the weighty masses that top his filthy length like buttery icing. Biting back a whimper and tugging. He can’t stop.

“L-look how fucking hard y’got me–” He’s babbling away underneath his breath, clammy foreskin drawling up and down like adhesive with every roughened jerk. “All your fault hck! All your fucking- ptwah!” He gives himself another one, two, three more wads of excess spittle over his crownhead, taking a solid lick of your pretty garter. He breaks off with a pained mantra. “-fault.”

And shit, Nanami doesn’t know when he found himself acting like such a…pervert.  

But he blames you. Blames you and the way that thin lace of yours looks so sinful wrapped around his thick cock. Round n’ round coiling to massage every thickly inflated, lightning bolted vein-

“Hate how I’d never d-do this before-” He’s spilling out in throaty groans, swirling mahogany eyes widening at the sultry scratch of it up and down up and down his tender underside. With trembly fingerpads his smushing it all over the delicate curvature of his balls, “-before…you.”

And, shit, Nanami had a meeting in what- a few minutes? He can’t help but thinking about what his clients would think if they knew. What his employees would think. What you would think.

Would you…like it?

A muggy gust of air heaves out of his chest, sweat-slicked brows crinkling at the direction that those thoughts had just taken. Precum clinging onto his skin like adhesive, he fucks his fist like he’s angry.

He is - at you and every teasing touch of yours that makes every ounce of blood sprint down to his heavy cock. You, with your sunny smile and your eyes dazzling as if you weren’t just undressing him with your gaze. You, and your pretty outfits and stupidly sexy panties that make him run off right before important events-

“Gonna fucking- p-pay for this-” Nanami’s nose crinkles when he’s tugging his claggy white undershirt underneath his firmly grit teeth. Free hand straying to twirl little hearts over his puffy, bubblegum pink nipples, his tensed abs flex with every jerky buck. “-gonna- ngh-”

Gonna shove you down and make you feel just as needy as he is. Oh, Nanami’s thumbing underneath the heated line of his slippery slit, musing away just how much your clingy pussy would smooch it even better. 

“Wonder if I could ngh- fuck you stupid-” Nanami finds himself chuckling - chuckling. Low and crazed, plump lips twitching up at the sparks of bliss at the bottom of his abdomen. He was furious at you. “-would ya still be mouthy? Slutty? Ohhh, darling, I fuck you in every ngh- dream I have.”

And isn’t that what you wanted? What you’ve been driving him crazy for every since you stepped foot here? 

Joints in his wrist aching with that sloppy tempo, Nanami thinks he almost catches a rim of battered, stinging pink right where his fisted hand was hitting his toned abs. 

What he’d give to make your pretty pussy feel just as if she was his- what was it you call him? 

Ah, Nanami’s blossoming-red tip flinches as if being hit with a zillion volts of electricity as your words echo in his brain, his favorite melodic tune. His “work wife” was what you call yourself. 

“Tch, damn work- wife.” He’s murmuring, a blotchy blush taking over his handsome features - burning all the way up to the very tips of his ears. Fingers trawling faster and faster. Sloppier. He’s spraying out sheeny ropes of pre with every bruising pull off his swollen length. “Gonna show ya- gonna ngh- for how you make me- gonna make ya mine-”

“Kentooo? Are you in here?”

Fuck.

Without warning, Nanami’s teeth come latching harshly into his fist - he needs to. 

He has to, because just the mere notes of your voice from the other side of the door is enough for his ballooned balls to give a depraved pinch. Enough for him to cum.

Shit. Nanami’s head falls back against the wall, letting off strained gruffs around his flesh. 

A slow trickle of sweat beads down his temple at the sweltering splash of his undershirt being coated with vulgar cobwebs of thickly viscous seed - so much. Hot. 

And Nanami always did cum more whenever he thought of you - but this was almost too much. Such heaping volumes that it was like he couldn’t stop. Soaking your sopping garter, pooling out swashes of cum that formulate a sticky ring down his fingers. He’s leaking from his twitchy tip over n’ over-

“Fuck-” he’s hiccuping out, vision sparking with stars. He was too late - too entranced - to plug up his geysering orifice now for any semblance of order now. He hated how he was so weak for you. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck- fuck!” 

You really have corrupted him, because Nanami doesn’t feel even a single speck of shame when he leans even further against the door. Biting the insides of his cheek into silence, his ringing ears crane to hear just a syllable more of your tone-

God, he feels dirty.

But victorious. 

“Well, the meeting starts in a few minutes.” Nanami feels himself blush, he doesn’t give a single shit about some meeting - not when those words are enough for his aching cock to dredge out a few more ivory ounces that hit the tile with a deafening pap! “Hurry up, m’kay? It’ll be real boring without you, Ken—”

Minx. 

And Nanami doesn’t know what’s louder - the creaking shudder of the now-broken door hinges as you saunter out of the bathroom, or his beating heart.

Pulsing halfway out of his chest - not only at the fuzzy high of his orgasm, but at you. You, and those cute lil’ panties no doubtedly hidden away underneath your tight silken skirt. While you pretended to be all professional in the meeting that he is supposed to lead.

Dammit. Nanami’s head drops incredulously when his reddened cock gives another ravenous twitch. You were going to be the death of him.

.

.

.

You had no idea why everyone in the office was either scared senseless of your boss, Nanami Kento, or simply too intimidated by him to feel anything else. 

No one knew much. No one sought much.

But you knew that your self-proclaimed “work husband” was a gentle giant, surely - you’ve caught the way he silently comes into the building early with snacks for the break room, and leaves the latest personally finishing up documents he deems imperfect. What you simply didn’t understand was why no one else saw how hot he was.

Didn’t they see the absolute specimen of a man that towered around daily in tightly-fitted suits and perfectly combed blond hair? 

Those big, beefy arms, long lashes you’re almost jealous of, and regal features that dusted an innocent pink whenever you teased him too much. Always so worked up with the stress of running a company, that you couldn’t help but wonder if that would translate into bed.

Honestly, after years of men that disappointed and bored you - especially down there - could you really be blamed if you made things a little…unprofessional?

And you could tell that Nanami wasn’t complaining. 

Oh, he wasn’t complaining at all. 

No matter how much he’d falsely scowl or tut - you’d already “lost” one of your black garters, and you swear you saw just the slightest centimeter of it dangling from your boss’s pocket. 

The all-powerful CEO, but so weak for you.

What you really didn’t understand was why he didn’t take things to the next level.

You’d initially thought he would during your training period, whenever you’d stuck by him with your trusty notepad and tightest silky blouses that Nanami loved to pretend he wasn’t looking down. Always snapping his glassy eyes away after taking a long look at your bra, toying with his velveteen ties as if trying to choke either the hunger or the life out of him.

But when that came and ended, and you’d finally been awarded a permanent position, you finally got the chance to…have a little more fun.

Your favorite pastime was getting on your knees because of how oh-so-clumsy you are, brushing just past Nanami’s tersely bouncing knees. Lingering mere seconds longer when he presses his meaty thighs into you hotly.

“Oh?” It was like a little routine at this point, for you to faux gasp from your position on the floor as if you’d just noticed the touch. Each and every time. “My, how forward of you, work husband.”

Only to immediately get a choked-up groan of your name, and extra documents to finish by the time the work day was over. Worth it.

Because you had made the ever-stoic Nanami Kento blush. 

And the employee groupchat would text you about it for hours on end. Some swooning. Some skeptical. The rest of the office thought you were either very brave, incredibly slutty, or plain stupid. Possibly all three.

But seriously, you bite your lower lip to force down a giddy giggle when Nanami catches your winking eye for the nth time this past hour. Hastily looking back towards the hefty contract each n’ every time with a furiously grit jaw. He was so bad at pretending he didn’t want you.

Too bad you were getting impatient. 

“Right!” Comes the booming voice of a businessman that’d just secured a lucrative contract, you snap out of your whirlwind of thoughts when your client- President Higuruma from Kyoto Corporations, you think - stands up. Oh, the meeting was already over? “Now that the hard part is done, why don’t we all get the celebrations in, Kento old pal.”

They’d known each other a long time, you hear. And had apparently been rivals prior to forming this close relationship.

You think that your poor boss has never looked more grouchy than when he shrugs off Higuruma’s sociable hand off of one broad shoulder. Staring longingly at the clock that showed you’d all run way into evening overtime, “I’m not much of a partier myself, Hiromi.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, when you have a team as good as this, then you simply must treat them.” The other man sweeps his dark eyes across the room, resting ever-so-slightly on you. “Or else the pretty ladies here will think you’re boring.”

“I-” Oh, you should’ve gotten tips straight from Higuruma - because Nanami’s cheeks ruddy. Eyes narrowing at you, then darting to his friend, “-I’m terminating our contract.”

“And I’m taking you to crack open the good whiskey I know you hide in your second drawer.” To everyone’s shocked amusement, Higuruma lugs his all-new business partner bodily out of the door. Words carrying from the distance, “You know you never did tell me whether you got a padlock for that drawer because of me…”

You’re still careening towards the glassy door to hear more snippets of that conversation when suddenly you hear a loud SMACK!

It hits your ears right before it hits your senses that Shoko had turned over in her seat beside you and planted a harsh swat on your arm. Hissing at the ache, you’re huffing at her knowing smirk, “What if I’m into that?”

She snickers, giving you another resounding strike just for the sake of it. You really, really didn’t know why the two of you were friends-

“Oh, I bet our boss would know, then.”

Kidding, of course you knew. And you can’t stop yourselves from falling into your familiar old gossip, the rest of your coworkers listening in curiously be damned. “I wish. You should’ve seen the way he reacted when I fussed over his tie before this. Seriously, it’s not my fault it was crooked for once n’ he almost ran away.”

“Ran straight back into the bathrooms, you mean.” She’s wiggling her brows, stopping only when you tilt your head curiously. “Oh- shit, you didn’t know? I heard from Utahime who heard from Yaga who heard from Ijichi who went to the bathroom that uptight CEO Nanami here was almost late to the meeting because he was having a fun little him time in there.”

You hear yourself gasp- no-nonsense, sensible Nanami Kento? Touching himself in the bathroom? “That’s why he looked…so fucked out. No.” 

“Yes.” She nods seriously. “And you know what’s even better?”

“What?”

“Ijichi - who was hiding underneath the sink out of fear, by the way, pfft- claims he’d been holding onto a frilly black garter.” Pointing very blatantly at the practically skin-tight skirt you’d decided to wear today. “And I know someone who just-so-happened to ‘lose’ a black garter in the office.”

“What-” you’re sputtering out, not because of the accusation - no, Shoko knew all about that - but about the confirmation of your suspicions that Nanami really did have your lacy lil’ number. “But if he liked that so much then why doesn’t he make a move?”

Shoko crosses her arms with the wise air of someone that had just solved the answer to the meaning of life, and was intentionally being coy about it. “Don’t you realize that you have the perfect solution for that?”

“What?” Wow, you really were on an eloquent streak today. 

Just then, the heavy meeting room doors slide open - and in walks a sternly reluctant Nanami and Higuruma with too many dozens of prized alcohol. Said Higuruma who winks at you garishly- 

You glance at Shoko’s smile, the kind she gets when she’s about to cement a contract that would result in several lawsuits that she already knows your company would win. Oh. You get it. 

.

.

.

And so does Higuruma, apparently.

Because even though he might not know of your little plan, the man was more than happy to keep you company amongst the thrumming masses celebrating. 

Somehow, the entire department had been roped in and packed inside the sprawling meeting room. Mingling over dim lights and softly playing music from the corner of your impropmtu office party. 

Which worked out in your favor, surprisingly, as it gave you the opportunity to eye a stony-faced Nanami’s reaction - stood right next to you when you leaned against Higuruma with a wheezing laugh.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re really funny, President Higuruma?” You’re tittering out and, admittedly, his humor was amazing - but what was more interesting to you was the way that Nanami’s neat brows furrowed. 

“Mhm, you’ll just have to get used to that, sugar.” You swear you hear the glass in Nanami’s vice-like grip clink! Thickened digits, so easily powerful and tightening until his mountainous knuckles shone white. “After all, we’ll be working together to take care of some big packages now.”

You feel your lips curl up into a sleazy grin, eyes locked dead-set on Nanami’s own. “Yeah, I’m quite excited to be handling those big packages, actually.” 

Higuruma raises a brow, “S’that so?”

“Of course.” And if you inched in ever-so-slightly closer to him, if you let your voice dip saccharinely in honey, then Nanami couldn’t do anything about it. Nothing but spill out a sharp huff, mouth tightening into a harsh line across his pretty face. “I only hope they’re bigger than what Jujutsu Tech has currently been working with.”

“Oh yeah, much bigger.” Nanami looked positively like an explosion just waiting to go off, and you didn’t know whether it was slight fear or anticipation that made your thighs clench sinfully together. “This contract will be like nothing you’ve ever seen.”

“The bigger the better.”

You risk a glance downwards, just barely catching the way that your dear boss adjusts his sleek formal pants down near his thigh. Oh, lips parting, he was big, huh? Really big. 

And the quieter Nanami grew, the more talkative Higuruma became. More confident. “Pardon my forwardness, angel, but are we still talking business here?” And then comes the finishing blow - before you can blink, a strong arm latches onto your waist. “Because if we aren’t then-”

SLAM!

It’s all you can do to not shiver when you turn your gaze over to Nanami, who’d just clanged his half-full glass down on a nearby table. Veins bubbling with voltage from head to toe at the sheer metallic glint of something dangerous in his targeted gaze. 

Locked purely and utterly on you.

You can see the way his sharp jaw jumps with a furious tick. Fawny strands of blond curtaining over his furrowed brows, that slightly bumpy trail of his vein-

“I believe my employee is out of line, Hiromi.” Nanami bites out those words - sharp, and rugged. Piercing through your figure and sprinting right down to your heating core. The grin he gives you makes you shudder, “I will correct that.”

What? 

“Ken- ah!” You’re yelping when Nanami doesn’t give you the time for it to sink in, for you to even register anything other than the way his massive palm locks around your waist tightly. 

Doughy pads of his fingertips dig into the curvature of your hips, and you almost get whiplash at the tug of Nanami’s strong arms stealing you away from Higuruma’s touch. Tucking you into his blistering hot side, you think you feel dizzy with just how heady the combination of skin and cologne was. 

And then you leave - the both of you. Higuruma only calling after, stricken. 

You’re walking - or, at least, it feels like you’re walking. Almost on autopilot, you’re stuck on the firm set of Nanami’s jaw when he guides you briskly through the throngs of people. 

“Kento-”

“What now, darling?” Darling? He’s never ever called you that before. Never manhandled you with only one of his arms until you’re striding - running - down the familiar route to his richly-kept office. 

Oh.

Your own fingertips dig into the shimmering fabric of his fitted suit jacket, words coming out a little bit more breathless than you’d have liked. “Ken- sir, what are you-”

But, of course, Nanami Kento never let up that easy. Of course, he would never let you get the last word in if he had the chance. And tonight was all about chances. 

Whatever probing question dies in your throat when Nanami pauses - for a mere split-second - although it feels like hours in slow motion before he bends down and jostles you into a princess carry. Firm curves of his biceps digging underneath your thighs, a tender palm splays out across your back. 

Yet, the way that he’s staring deeply down at you is anything but.

“Oh, you know what the fuck I’m doing.” He wrenches out, vibrating you with the rumbling baritone that husks from his chest. So close that your own heartbeat matches with his fervent ba-dump! ba-dump! ba-dump! Each word just coated and dripping in something so raw that you barely even notice until after he weightlessly carries you past that familiar arching doorway. “It’s what you wanted, after all. Isn’t it?”

Dazed. Until the metallic click! of the door being locked by one of Nanami’s hands pull you out of your whirling thoughts.

He’s striding inside fast. Depravedly. 

“Is that jealousy I hear?” You sing-song, fingers trailing up to rub over his fuzzy undercut. And the moment you touch him, it’s like something in Nanami snaps. Something in him blinks…awake.

“Stop that.” 

Wasting with not a single nanosecond of hesitation before cupping his greedy palms on the squirming curve of your ass. He sneaks in a nice, long squeeze with one hand, the other facing down on the table in a long swipe to clatter down everything but that golden CEO Nanami nameplate onto the floor.

You suck in a sharp inhale when he splays you out like some spellbound slut on the cool surface of his mahogany office table. Unceremoniously. 

You’ve never seen him like…this.

He spanks his thick fingers along where your sinfully tight skirt was perking up to show off skin that makes Nanami’s mouth water. That makes him angle his head greedily for a flash of those very same pink panties that had him forgoing all duties earlier today. 

“Trying to make me fucking jealous. You forget your place, my love.” His index toys over the ribbony straps of your underwear. “I’ve been crazy for you since you stepped foot in this place. I’ve been yours.”

You, on the other hand, were still reeling to make your jumbling thoughts somewhat coherent. 

Rutting up into the merciless weight of his sculptured front pinning you down - Nanami’s body was feverish. So hot that it made your skin break out in a humid layer of perspiration, you felt so hot. You felt like you were melting already.

And his muscles, oh- even through a jacket, and that cotton button-up you so loved on him, he was so toned that you could count every delicious ridge of Nanami’s glissading abs. 

Rounded centers of your knees attach around his slender waist, you’re gasping at the firm plane of muscled obliques that welcome you. “N’ that’s what made you jealous? Heh- that’s so cute- mmpf-”

“Does it amuse you to break me, my love?” Nanami grapples two of his tough digits to smush your cheeks together, sultry leer piercing its way through his mask of fury. He growls, “To make me fucking furious?”

“Ngh- Kento—” The whimpers just won’t stop spilling from your lips, his gaze drilling into your eyes and falling straight to your drenching cunt. Your hips arch needily off of the icy cold wood to nudge your pussymound for more more more- “I- fuck-”

SMACK!

“Talk to me like a big girl.” He hisses, knotting his fingers around your tender throat so tight. Tight enough to drain you of the necessary volumes of air strangling in your throat, letting only a few weepy gurgles leave your mouth. Hard. “Ah ah, a big girl I said. If you can talking with fucking- President Higuruma, you can talk to me.”

“Want- want-” Your nails claw patterned lines that paint across Nanami’s muscular forearms. “I want you to kiss me, Kento.”

There. You’d said it. 

And Nanami’s smile was almost blinding.

He’s closing in the hypnotic inches until his plump lips hovered simple milimeters away from your puckered ones. Much too far for you, in your opinion. 

Fisting a single hand around Nanami’s sapphire collar, you’re dredging up your strength to finally pull him in for the kiss you’ve been waiting ages for at this point. Finally. Singing off a brief sigh at the heated proximity of his maw-

Only for Nanami to pull away.

“Wh-where are you going?” You’re mewling out, brows furrowing with the type of upset desperation that only Nanami was able to bring out in you. You needed him - and you needed him badly. 

But the only answer you get is the balmy breeze of his snickers clouding down your body, so scorching that it made flames of want zip down between your legs. And Nanami does kiss you - between the heaving valley of your chest, right underneath your left tit, your tummy- down, down, down.

Rip—!

There go your limited-edition fishnets - torn right with only a few tugs of Nanami’s carnal canines. Right with his mouth that burrows between the pliable hole he’d made between your legs. 

“Hm? What was that, darling?” He’s drawling away, shuffling until he was right between your legs. Until your big, bad boss was kneeling in front of you. “Oh! My sweet girl wants a little kiss, doesn’t she? How cuuute.”

Rutting up your hips, you just barely manage to get the edge of your slick-flooded thighs to stroke his dimpled cheek. Lips jutting out into a pout, “Yes- yes.”

“Too bad she didn’t earn it, hm? As if I’d kiss a mouth that flirted with another man in front of me- no matter how pretty. ” Nanami continues, like he didn’t even hear your pleas right now. Thank goodness you couldn’t see the way the cracking rawness to your voice made his pants so much tighter. 

There’s the stubborn schwf! of your skirt being pushed up in a rough tug. And it’s only once he turns his heart-eyed stare down between your legs that you realize. “So, guess m’just gonna hafta kiss you.”

He wasn’t talking to you. He was talking to your dripping cunt. 

No sooner does this realization hit, that Nanami’s eager kiss does too. A filthy, sodden French snog planted right through your soaked panties. 

Nodding along as if he was translating every slurp weaving its way from between your bloated folds. “Oh? What’s that you say? More?” 

He’s trawling the pointed edge of his nose up n’ down the your slippery slit, teeth nipping along the rubbery folds to make your entrance gush out slivery ropes of slick. You count exactly one smooch at your dripping base, two right where your pussymound was the pulpiest, and the final - longest and most lingering - on your throbbing clit. 

“See?” He hums, fleshy thumb outlining the slobbering fringe of your pussylips. Just peeking his manicured fingertip past your useless underwear, and inching backwards with a saturated squelch whenever you squirmed for more. Tease. “Now tha’s a good girl, she’d never flirt with another. You’re mine, right- all mine? Or- well-”

Your breath hitches when you feel the wet splatter! of a slimy clump of saliva striking your teary cunt dead-on. And Nanami’s thumb rolls over the sheeny glaze with such utter love, “Now you’re all mine.”

Your fingers sneak their way to tangle into Nanami’s mussed-up locks, pulling his sappy mouth even closer. So close that his curved chin hits your pussy with a wet plap! And the crisp whoosh of him drinking in your scent deeply has you whining, “Ken- more. More.”

Nanami growls and it’s almost feral. He’s knocking out a deafening mewl from your lips with a sharp, sultry spank exactly on the target of your pulsing clit. “More? More, huh?” Purposefully rovering the chilling band of one signet ring - holding it firmly down where your hole was leaking. “After you got this wet for Hiromi? Nice try.”

“This isn’t for Higu-”

Thwack! The hollowing noise of flesh meeting flesh sings out in your ears, every swat after swat being left on your pussy enough to make your head throw back helplessly. 

The sight of it only makes Nanami’s scouring fingers pry apart your gluey folds even wider, kissing every nook and cranny. Over and over. Taunting. “N’ now you’re talking about another hah- man when you’re w’me? I should fire you, darling.”

You already know he never would. 

But you can’t stop yourself from spilling out a string of swears anyway, “Th-this is all for- ngh-” Flinching bodily when he wraps the waterlogged remnants of your panties around one fist, ‘round and ‘round until your pussy was allll on shamefully display, and your delicate pink panties dig into your fleshy mounds. “-for you, Kento.”

And when Nanami pulls at the silky fabric with one hand, you’re dragged down across the table right with it. Till you were exactly where he wanted you.

“Correct.”

Your panties were in tatters now - and he tucks it away into his pocket with a wink. For later. “Hate these slutty fucking panties. Wanted them off every fucking time.”

Swiping away the syrupy trickle of saliva overspilling from his mouth, Nanami’s instantly surging over to connect his lips with your puffy ones. Groaning out a throat mmmm– the moment that candied flavor sugarcoats his lips.

The most lecherous squelches! speak across all four corners of his decadent office when Nanami handlessly tilts his head to let his scratchy tastebuds maze through your weepy pussy. 

He doesn’t even care that he’s getting the frames of his glasses all messy. Swirling out slow circles around the elastic ring of your entrance, before pumping inches in-

“Fuck-” You’re squealing, throat clogging with a leaden ball the moment he’s contracting his tongue to stretch your entrance out wiiidely agape. In and out until your rubbery hole was tenderizing to his ravenous shape and texture, “-fuck just like ngh- that.”

“Oh yeahh? You like this, huh?” Meeting Nanami’s gaze from between your cracked-open legs results in shockwaves all over your body. Because his molten gaze was gleaming - practically glowing. “Getting so turned on s’like you’re a ngh- damn waterpark. Think anyone else could get you this f-fuck- soaked?”

And you couldn’t even hide it just how aroused you were. Just how close. 

Wiry ropes of your webbed slick clings onto Nanami’s mouth with each soppy plap of his mouth clashing onto your cunt. Harder. Fucking you with his tongue just the way his thick cock was aching to do right now-

SMACK!

“Mmm sweet girl, makin’ such a mess. Answer me.” He spits into your syrupy pussy, urging out a few fresh waves of slick that laminate his fat digits in pure gloss. A gloss that he sucks up happily.

“You-”

He doesn’t even let you finish. Because you were so adorable being eaten out until you were stupid, none of that usual flirty snark present when he was making out with your cunt like a man parched. 

Swirling out tiny hearts on your clit with the mushy tips of his fingertips, he yearns to skim the perked edge of his tongue all over your gummy walls. Bumping into every delicate orifice, Nanami’s free fingers fly down to trace your tight ring of muscle. “Oh yeah?”

“O-only you–” Your blubbers are so adorable, mouth loosened into an oh! yet the only thing coming out of it are repeated shrills of Kento! How cute, Nanami can only hope that these walls aren’t thick enough that those outside won’t hear. He wants them to. “-only you can make me so- ngh-”

“Shy, darling?” He sounded so painfully pussydrunk right now. Rouge blush burning, gazing up at you heavily shuttered eyes, a maw that was drooling more and more with every lapping snog placed on your slobbering pussy. “What happened to my flirty girl?”

His flirty girl. 

Shit- the words themselves affect him just as much as they do you. Nanami’s muscular thighs manspread even wider with just how fat his painfully hard cockhead was bloated. Close. It’s so sloppy how he quickens his pace to toy with the button of your clit.

His, all struggling to get out the words from your mouth - battling with your heavy tongue to get out a keening- “You. Yours. Hngh- Only y-you can make me feel like this. M-make me feel so hck! close, Kento.” 

His perfect girl.

“Ohhh, say that again. Dunno if I quite believe that.” He groans, budging your thighs over to suffocate his head even deeper, god, he knows that he could pass out right here and still be the most content man on Earth. Holding your ankles behind his hand with a second hand, you can’t help but ogle the rippling bulge of his biceps. “Lock them.” Your tangling motions were limp - weak. But Nanami finds himself grinning anyway, holding you in place tightly, he’s doubly stuffing in two digits past your slicked entrance. “Say my name.”

“Ken- Kento?”

Piling upon wads and wads of stringy cum that sprinkle all over your thighs, just the striking sensation is enough for you to see stars. Enough to gasp when his probing digits pillage your gooey depths, “Again.”

“Kento.”

And of course, Nanami Kento wasn’t a merciless man. Mean. Filthy with just how much he’s clacking his jaw to grind into the supple rim of your, your knee bounces up even higher at the taut spring of something hot pooling in your tummy. 

He could tell. Oh, he could tell. 

You were always so adorably readable - especially with your wobbling lips, and those crinkling beads of tears spilling over from the corners of your eyes. Mumbling, “Kentooo-!”

And all he really had to do was pound a battery swipe along your sweltering walls, deeply. Skidding right across where he knew your magical g-spot would be. He’s giving your perky clit not one - hell, not even two - but three solid pinches on your sensitive hood. Hard. 

The babbling words “C-cumming-” are barely starting syllables out of your mouth before it crashes into you headfirst. 

You feel like you’re being run over with such waves of bliss, pupils sliding allll the way into the back of your scrunched lids. 

The wooden desk trills out a ringing creak! when you arch your spine into the perfect semi-circle, dragging Nanami’s mouth all over each and every crevice of your quivering cunt. Riding out your high in long sloppy drags. 

Using him. And how Nanami loved to be used by you.

“Yeah- yeah yeah—” Holding your gaze fatally, you can only watch as the pearly beads spraying from your cunt drip the long trailway down to hit the back of his throat. Your fingertips dig into his scalp, mushing his face even closer, “-cum. Cum all over m’face, my love. Make a fucking mess of me.”

You swear that Nanami’s voice was shattering into a whimper towards the very end. Prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with every greedy gulp, and he doesn’t stop. He can’t stop.

Not even when your sparking high fades out into nothingness, not even when that white-hot pleasure formulates into something sensitive. Almost painful. Gasping out a sharp ah! with every drag of Nanami’s tongue over your too-tender cunt. 

“S-sensitive-” You’re mewling, desperately trying to push on his blond head. Stacks of sweat-dampened hair plastering across your palm, “Ken- Ken, m’too sensitive.”

“Tch.” He’s panting, eyes latching on instead to your glistening pussy - all pretty with trickling layers of sweet, sweet juices and his saliva. What a mess he’s made. He swears he can spot a darkening patch oozing out all over the desk. 

Nanami rubs his fleshy thumb over the tantalizing curve of your pussymound just a few repeated times, “Let me ask her- hm, wanna let me ah- go? Ready to say goodbye, darling?”

And whatever slurring squelches that emanate from your soppy lips speak to him. Enough so that he finds himself nodding mindlessly, “Fine then.” Planting an exaggerated mwah! on your clit, “I’ll see you later, m’kay?” 

He was so gentle kissing your pussy goodbye - but so, so mean manhandling you off of the desk. In a singular fluid motion, scooping you up with two beefy arms underneath your legs and falling back into the CEO’s cushy chair.

“O-oh.” You find your thighs straddling his sculpted hips, hands falling precariously on top of his bulging deltoids. What a feast Nanami Kento was. 

He barely even had to try to make your hips grind in a jerky up and down on his too-tight bulge. Splotching out gluey patches of slick wherever your driveling lips were hitting. Nanami counts exactly six slippery streaks before he grabs your throat and pulls-

“Think ya earned it now.” He hisses through a simpering groan. You’re so pliable like this - so open to being dragged into a filthy, filthy kiss. “Mm- might just be my favorite ngh- lipgloss on ya.”

You’re smacking at the curvaceous valley between Nanami’s pecs - nothing more than kittenish pecks for him, “That- that’s so filthy, Ken.”

Skin dappling with a second skin of goosebumps with every inch exposed to the heady air, he’s unbuttoning your blouse slowly. Lazily. Pop! Pop! Pop! Taking his precious time to watch every minute huff and puff you cloud out. 

“Oh, darling.” Bursting out a bout of laughter that hits you to your very core as soon as your top and bra hit the polished floor. Nanami tilts back in his seat sexily, angling you to take up even more space on the comfortable seat of his lap - his thick, outlined bulge. “We haven’t even gotten started.”

Fuck.

He pants, “Hated these slutty skirts- fuck- made me almost call HR because you looked so- beautiful.” With your skirt soon shed, you’re suddenly reeling with the realization that you’re the only one naked right now. “Better with them off.”

Never one to fall behind, you can’t help but tumble your greedy digits downwards. Mouth lathering with a sloshing wave of greed as soon as your fingertips skim the rock-hard tent struggling in Nanami’s pants.

“Fuck- greedy girl.” At this point, it’s as if the exact measurements of Nanami’s hand were branded into the mounded flesh of your ass. Because each spank has you crying, “Don’t you worry now, m’gonna fuck that ngh- feisty mouth shut soon, but for now…”

You’re left hanging, waiting on where Nanami’s drawling words would take you next. 

But it just-so-happened that you didn’t have to wait. Didn’t have to register anything but the way that he’s tugging down his too-tight pants and boxers just enough-

“Oh my-” You gasp at the sight below you, blinking your weighty lids just a few times to make sure that you weren’t imagining things. Because, sure, on those lonely nights you’d imagined Nanami to be big - but this was just ridiculous. “-Ken, you’re so-”

Big package for sure.

“H-heh.” He preens, wrenching down the velvety fabric until it looped halfway down the padded meat of his thighs. “Don’t act so cockdrunk, my love- s’only gonna make me ngh bigger.”

Roaming five dexterous fingers to grasp his bulky base, the rest of Nanami’s nine- no, ten inches drip down needy gumdrops of pre onto your hand. He was long, girthy - blushed on his swollen mushroom tip a pretty cerise pink that matched your ruined panties. 

“Wan’ you inside me.” You’re purring out, and Nanami’s heart races as he catches a few glimpses of that complete and utter tease you usually are. You swipe your thumb over the syrupy top coating of precum on his tip, plugging it into Nanami’s mouth.

Well, he might be the boss - but not in here.

After all, who was he to go against anything his pretty girl said? 

“Mmm- s’that so?” He’s suckling right on your doughy pads, fringes of his neat teeth nipping your flesh. Looking you right in the eyes while leaving a few streaky smears across your drooling slit, up and down. Golden blond lashes so long they flutter against the flushed apples of his cheeks, “Gimme a kiss first, my girl.”

So sweet.

Or so you thought.

Because you’d just inched your allured body closer to give him what he wanted. Digging your rounded knees into the sides of his body to just let your pursed lips brush in an innocent, innocent skim across his kiss-bitten ones- 

Before Nanami wraps his hand around your throat and tilts your head back to let himself spit. Just seconds before nudging apart your sticky folds and pushing in-

“Ah!” Your eyes sprint between snapping open in sheer shock, and screwing tightly shut at the pure stretch. The tightness. You could almost hear the elastic creak of your weepy entrance being pulled to its very limits around Nanami’s globed tip. “O-oh my god-”

“Shhhh you can take it, good girl- my good girl.” He’s thumbing away the purposeful spatteres that decorate the sagging edges of your lips. Rounded centers of his fingertips sinking in tight around your throat, “Mmm- s’this a big enough package for ya?”

It’s an uphill battle to force your lids to shutter open, only to peer into Nanami’s glassy eyes to see that yeah, there was still a glint of raw jealousy in them. Still. 

Your hand dips its way down to swipe open your dewy pussylips, rubbing over the most tender spots on your drooling cunt when your hips stutter down inch by fucking inch. 

Splitting your tight orifice in half with his vast cylindrical cock, every wild rut that pumps Nanami even deeper makes you dizzy. Your ajar maw spilling with drool while he fucks himself furiously harder and harder and-

Head lolling over into the clammy crook of his shoulder, your tongue licks up a long stripe along his neck. “Ngh- s-so fucking big– Don’t know if I c-can take it.”

“Now now.” With a rude spank! your fingers are swatted away meanly, Nanami’s own taking over in its place. Not to do the job - just to toy with the buzzing nub of your clit while he pumped you snugly full of his never-ending shaft. “Move that hand, lemme see my girl’s hah- pussy take my big fuckin’ cock.”

Salty tears spring to your eyes and end up dripping onto Nanami’s awaiting tongue, voice laced with something primal. “Poor baby, getting nervous. Don’tcha remember what you told Hiromi?” You did. “The bigger the better?” You remember. “So buckle up n’ take it like a good girl now, my love.”

Your answer is nothing but a half-lucid nod, “Y-yes, Ken-” 

“Hm?” He pinches your clit. A warning. 

“Sir.”

“Atta girl.”

And then Nanami’s bottomed-up, his hefted base sagging against your sopping wet lips, globular swell of his breeder balls nestling up behind your cunt in a congratulatory smooch. And he was kissing your other lips just the same.

Leaving wet swabs that decorate your pulpy cervix in translucent streams, you’re squealing after each n’ every fat thud! of Nanami’s rotund cockhead mushing into your gooey depths. Probing veins massaging you incessantly.

He couldn’t get enough.

“Atta girl-” He’s snickering into your mouth, pounding and pounding even more despite the clingy push of your pussy. Despite the way that he can’t even go any deeper - his cock was still aching for more. To strike the bullseye of your womb. “O-ohhh atta giiirl. Open wiiiide f’me.”

Like a mantra. You weren’t any more coherent, with your words garbling out over every leathery creak! of the pristine office chair. “Loud- g-gonna be loud, Kento.”

“I don’t care.” Nanami spits out immediately, leaving a heavy-duty swat on your bulging pussy folds as if to ask why should you care, too? He had such a way of speaking to you with his body, rendering you speechless after only a few seconds in the presence of his vicious tempo. “Let them hear, they couldn’t fuck you like this. Let them know hck! wh-who makes this slutty cunt feel so good.”

And it wasn’t a question, but you’re answering anyway. Looping your boneless arms around the expanse of Nanami’s broad shoulders, your limbs stick to the sweat-drenched fabric of his button-up and you huff. 

“You- need you to-” You’re murmuring away, numb tips of your fingers fumbling with his pearly buttons. Two seconds away from ripping this damn shirt off of him, “-need to see you.”

“Oh yeah?” He’s letting his top fly open to reveal what looks like yard upon yards of smooth, sculptured skin. Shiny with a glimmery sheen of humid perspiration and slick - puddling from your weepy cunt at the way that Nanami was so sexy. All jiggling pecs and abs for days, you find your pussy gulping his length up n’ down even faster. Nipping along bites that redden his flesh prettily, “Woah- Really are a slut, my love. N’ I fucking love it.”

Nanami was always such a possessive man, one hand latched onto the side of your waist and helping you stumble along with every pap! The other wandering down to pat that proud curve where your cozy hole was being overstuffed with his fat cock, before traipsing up to your clit-

“Mmm– gonna have everyone know.” He’s biting down on his bottom lip, looking up at you through teary lashes. Tapping your clit, “Say my name, my love.”

“Ken-”

“Louder.”

“Ken!”

The chair bustles with every jerk, and the unsteady motions only have Nanami driving even deeper. “Mmm- now say his name-” He’s settling your mouth open with another clump of saliva, kissing away the smearing excess. “-say his name. Say Higuruma-”

But it was no use. The only thing your mouth seemed to be able to form into was a loud Ken. Just as he’d wanted. Just as what makes him chuckle, “Gonna fuck you s-so good that fucking Hiromi s’gonna know from a mile away.”

Ohhh, how he loved that cute lil’ thought. 

He was certainly jackhammering you like it, motioning your hips into eager gyrations even faster than your fatigued legs could handle. Practically carrying you through every claggy slap of skin-on-skin, Nanami’s tensed core burns with the friction. 

But he doesn’t care. Doesn’t even burn the sting of anything other than the way his sensitively enlarged balls were papping against your skin. Painting sweet, sweet bruises for days. 

“Would ya like that?” He’s mindlessly babbling away, and even through his hooded eyes you could tell that Nanami was completely pussydrunk. He wasn’t even circling your clit now - he was writing out on top a rapid K-E-N-T-O. Gone. Ruined. Rolling his hips in sloppy bucks, “Wan’ me ta fuck you until everyone knows?”

You’re nodding. Nodding and nodding away, and Nanami thinks this can’t get any better. You’re so gorgeous when you’re fucked dumb like this, who knew his office tease would be so…pliant?

He’s already in heaven with each saturated slip n’ slide massaging your weeping orifices. Angling his hips ever-so-slightly to the side to feel more of you-

That’s when he hits it.

That spot. 

And oh, Nanami thinks he could cum right then and there with the way your slicked walls kiss his length in a lingering smooch. Just as lovers do. 

“There-” you’re mumbling out, your lips leaving tiny pecks across the grinning corners of his lips. But you didn’t even have to start for him to already be bouncing you with the target of exact, precise strikes to your g-spot. Spotting steamy splotches of parched precum over that bulging spot, “R-right there, Ken- don’t miss don’t miss.”

“Would never fuckin’ imagine.” He has the audacity to roll his eyes. 

You believed him - just as much as you believed in the flurries of stars bursting countlessly behind your eyes. Hushing out, “M’close, Kento- gonna cum- fuck m’gonna cum.”

How could you not be close when he’s back to his favorite hobby that makes you squirm - pinching your throbbing clit right in time with the long, long lines his battering tip glides across your sweet spot. Ending allll the way back at your cervix. “Mhm, gonna make you cum on m’fucking cock. Hafta l-let those fucking ngh- losers know whose pretty pussy this is.”

And once the ever-stoic Nanami starts babbling, it’s like he can’t stop. 

“Mine-” Sucking on your bruised lower lip like his favorite candy. “Mine.” Twice. “Mine.” Thrice. He’s fucking you like he’d die if he slowed down right now, massaging your rubbery entrance deliriously raw. Teeth grit the closer and closer he inched himself, “Gonna let Hiromi know. Gonna let Ijichi know- Shoko- fucking Ino who w-was making eyes at my girl. My wife.”

You’re gasping, “W-wife?” And it seemed like such a highly tense moment to finally accept you as his work wife. That is, before-

“Mhm—” And there’s no regret, none of that usual shyness in Nanami’s eyes as he fucks you with deep eye contact. Thumb finishing off drawing a final KENTO on your clit, “Better know that m’gonna buy you th-the biggest fucking diamond you’ve ever seen, my love.”

Maybe it’s the way that he’s so serious. Maybe it’s the drilling pace of his thumping cock. Or maybe it’s just Nanami himself; boring up at you through droopy eyes and foggy glasses, a delirious smile plastered all over his face while he rammed you to your orgasm.

Fat tears collecting on your waterline, your vision blurs with just how intense of an orgasm he’s wrenching out of you. You swear it’s the best you’ve had in years - maybe even in your entire life.

“F-fuuuuck–” Your fingers drag unorganized lines all over his smooth shoulders, making it out as if he’d just been attacked by wild cats - but it’s just you. You and your sappy folds milking Nanami’s very soul, hot puffs of condensed breath hitting his craned neck when you lean in. “A-all for you, Kento.”

And the exact moment Nanami feels your lips descend upon his skin to suck - the exact moment he realizes that you’re marking him - his breath strangles in a gasp. 

“Darling- darling.” He’s panting out, shivering fingers setting the soft spots of your cunt free to get a good grope of your ass. To muster all his fucked-out strength to whack your pussy against his sharp hipbones with a resounding pap! “Oh, darling m’cumming- fuck- better take every drop now.”

But it was impossible to.

Because Nanami was cumming so much - even more than he had in the bathroom just hours earlier. Torrenting out sticky webs of seed that glue your walls feebly together and scratch such a primal urge inside you to have him fill you up.

He’s fighting to keep his head from throwing back, blinking away the sparks that bolt behind his eyes to drink in the sight down below. 

In awe at just how much of it was overspilling in ivory ribbons from the stretched-out ends of your sodden slit. Stretching thickly over his bulked base in a buttery ring, it’s so messy that he’s barely thinking before smearing over the wadded mess.

“Ken- mmpf-” Your mouth falters as soon as he stuffs in the glazed-over tips of his fingers, swirling around a slow circle inside your unhinged maw. He already knows this is going to be good. “Want more.”

More.

More.

Here you were - stuffed until your poor pussy couldn’t even handle just how much cum Nanami was still fucking into you. Spraying out a fountain of creamy globs with every pressurized thrust planted on your pussy - and you still wanted more?

Something flashes behind Nanami’s eyes.

And before you know it, you’re whimpering at the loss of his girthy inches weighing down in your cunt. There’s a saccharine fwop! followed by the slosh of trickling cum when Nanami pulls out, “C-come back.”

With a ringed finger plugging up your geysering hole from losing any precious ounces, Nanami carries you over to that familiar office desk in a single stride. Splaying you out - manhandling you - with ease until you were bent over the cool surface. 

Your cheek being pushed into the currently saliva-soaked wood, wrangling hands instantly tied behind your back with something silky - fuck, Nanami’s tie. Your cunt once more stuffed to the very brim with all of his throbbing cock. 

He’s leveraging the little restraint to jostle your hips ever-deeper. You’re squealing at that stretch - one you’re sure you’d never get used to. “K-Kento, sir–”

“Shhh, my love.” You hear in throaty groans from above you, and Nanami’s muscular weight pinning down your body makes you even wetter. As if he was just melting his abs into your curved back, smearing back n’ forth in tiny smudges after he starts pushing- “Say another word n’ m’gonna get ya pregnant- then they’ll really know you’re mine.”

.

.

.

It’s not like Nanami Kento to ever be late to a meeting.

Given, there was that one time a year ago when he’d almost been late before an important contract discussion with Kyoto Enterprises. But thirty five whole minutes late to a meeting? 

Well, that was unheard of. Impossible, really.

And Shoko finds herself sighing, tapping her nails impatiently on the glass table. Honestly, there were so many better things she could be doing with her time than waiting for her mystery of a boss. And - just her luck - you weren’t here today to distract from the boredom of corporate life, either. 

The universe is against her, really. 

“Oi, Ijichi–” She calls out to the fidgeting man seated across from her - and she doesn’t know whether he jumps because everyone on the team is on edge, or simply because this is Ijichi. “Five more minutes, then we file a missing persons report.”

“I-I am sure Mr. Nanami is ah- fine-” He pushed up his dangerously low glasses, muttering underneath his breath. “...hopefully.”

“I think we should go with the missing persons report.” Higuruma pipes up from one end of the room, the man had become a much-loved addition to this department since the contract. “Because I hate to say it, but the man has no life. There’s no reason for him to just-”

SLAM!

“My apologies, I’m late.” Nanami pants out into a silence that could only be caused by the object of your conversation suddenly intruding. A blur of impeccable suits and blond hair. 

Well, Shoko couldn’t see his face properly from the way he was hunched over to catch his breath like that - but she was glad he seemed unharmed.

Or, at least, that’s what she thought.

Because then Nanami stands up properly.

And honestly, she doesn’t know what makes her heart stop more. The fact that Nanami Kento arrived late to a meeting - or that he arrived late to a meeting with lipstick stains all over his lips, his jawline, his neck. And- and were those hickeys bruising his neck?

The coffee cup in her hand falls, and it’s not the only one. Surely, this had to be a prank- wait, does her boss even know what that is?

Still thinking it’s some strange practical joke, she’s squinting to get a closer look at the strangely familiar color of that lipstick. That- shit, wasn’t that your favorite shade?

Nanami snaps his head to Shoko the very moment she says your name - almost as if a form of experimentation. Before looking down at himself and finally - finally - seeing the state he was in. He sighs, fond. “Ah, my apologies again. My beautiful wife held me up, and I forgot to check if she left marks.”

Wife. 

Higurua drawls out the question striking through everyone’s mind right now. “What. The. Fuck.” 

And Ijichi squeaks out the second most striking question, “W-wife? D-do you mean your w-work wife, Mr. Nanami?”

“No.” He’s tilting his head in confusion, as if there was any possibility of anything else otherwise. Pulling out a glinting golden band hung around a simple chain from underneath his suit. A wedding ring. With your name engraved. “My wife wife.”

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[webism]

pornstar!satoru who knows there are a million eyes on him, he’s seen his view counts—the whole world has seen his form. He’s cocky, loves knowing just how many people have gotten off to the sight of him.

pornstar!satoru who, despite his infamous confidence, gets nervous when you walk on set and offer him your camera-ready smile. You’re such a pretty thing, the dictionary’s definition of perfect.

pornstar!satoru who can’t help but excuse himself before the shoot, so he can was his face and sate his nerves. Locks himself away in a bathroom just to pull his phone out and google your name—and god does he like what he sees.

pornstar!satoru who is minutes away from having to be balls deep inside of you and can’t help himself from touching himself in the bathroom. scrolling endlessly on his phone, pictures of you in different positions, different little outfits, looking fucking perfect in each one.

pornstar!satoru who cums harder than he has in months, in a porn set bathroom, just to the fantasy of his hand being yours. he feels like a sex-driven teen again, hands clammy as he washes them clean from the receipt of his desperation.

pornstar!satoru who is hard again the second he steps out to find you already naked on the scene bed. your skin looks satin soft against those sheets, eyes soft and lips softer as you watch him stalk over to you. consent checks and camera placement talk goes through one ear and out the other, he can’t get his eyes off you.

pornstar!satoru who forgets he’s a pornstar the moment his hands touch that sweet body of yours. he’s completely fumbling the scene laid out, the scripted dirty talk is forgotten the second his lips open. the only reason cameras aren’t cut is because the filth that leaves his mouth instead is more pornographic than the scene at hand.

pornstar!satoru who presses you down into the mattress in a mean mating press when he’s supposed to have you face down ass up. who would he be to deny himself a long look into those pretty eyes of yours? no way is he losing this opportunity for a paycheck he doesn’t really need.

pornstar!satoru who loses his curated pornstar persona the minute he bottoms out inside of you. his usual moans and groans are replaced with desperate whines of real pleasure. this is sex, he’s a mess of need and want and sweat and god do you look good stuffed full of his cock. he can tell you’re feeling it too, that something else, that electric eroticism that gets lost when you fuck for a living.

pornstar!satoru who can’t stop wondering what you’d look like pinned down in his own bed, away from the harsh light and prying eyes of the production crew. who has such a visceral feeling of dread knowing how many people are going to see you like this, fucked out and cockdrunk by his doing. it’s possession, a need to keep you to himself, sequester you away for his eyes only.

pornstar!satoru who cums ropes way too quickly. he’s usually good at holding his orgasm at bay for long enough to make a porno, but your pussy clenched around his cock was too much, your nails in the corded muscle of his biceps, your lips against his, your body in his fucking vicinity? he can’t help it.

pornstar!satoru who, after filming, invites you back to his for a drink or three, and gets swiftly rejected when you bat your pretty lashes at him and mention your boyfriend waiting for you at home.

pt 2!

[luv-lock]

ㅤֹㅤ⊹ㅤ #ㅤEVERY INCH IN THAT SUITㅤ.ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☆⁠ PAIRING : Batboys x Fem Reader

☆⁠ SYNOPSIS : He Looks Good In His Thight Suit, So Why Not Just Fuck Him?

☆⁠ CHARACTERS : Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne.

☆⁠ WARNINGS : NSFW, MINORS DNI, Daddy kink, breeding kink, rough sex, degradation, overstimulation, unprotected sex, a lil bit gun play, blow job, choking, spitting, slapping, riding, power play.

☆⁠ NOTES : Damian is an adult. And yes we have an adult version of Damian who is still Robin and wear a Robin suit. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

— BRUCE WAYNE ⋆

The cave’s damp air clings to your skin as you stumble in, heels clicking against the stone floor, your breath hitching at the sight of him. Bruce stands there, the suit clinging to every muscle like it was poured over him. The cowl’s still on, those white slits glaring at you, and fuck, it’s doing things to you—your thighs clench just looking at him. He’s fresh off patrol, chest heaving, a thin sheen of sweat making the black Kevlar gleam under the dim lights. Gotham’s knight, your goddamn ruin.

“You shouldn’t be down here, sweetheart,” he growls, voice low and modulated through the mask, but you hear the edge—raw, hungry, barely restrained. He steps forward, boots thudding heavy, and you’re already wet, practically dripping down your thighs because fuck, it’s Bruce, and he’s looking at you like prey.

“Don’t care,” you breathe, bold and stupid, stepping closer ‘til you’re in his shadow. “Needed to see you, Daddy.”

That word—Daddy—hits him like a punch. His head tilts, cowl shifting slightly, and you swear you hear a sharp intake of breath under that mask. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, little girl,” he rasps, gloved hand flexing at his side, and you grin, all teeth and heat, because you want him.

“Then punish me,” you whisper, reaching out to drag your fingers down the bat emblem, feeling the hard planes of his chest. “Show me what happens when I’m bad.”

He snaps. One second you’re standing, the next he’s got you slammed against the Batcomputer console, the cold metal biting into your ass as he looms over you, massive and unyielding. “You wanna be a brat for Daddy?” he snarls, ripping your skirt up with one brutal yank, exposing your soaked panties. “Gonna regret that, sweetheart.”

You whimper, and he’s already tearing the lace off—gloved fingers rough, calloused through the fabric, shoving between your legs. “Fuckin’ drenched,” he mutters, sliding two fingers into your cunt without warning, stretching you open while you arch and gasp. “This all for me? Huh? My needy little slut, soakin’ herself for me?”

“Yes—Daddy—just for you,” you moan, hips bucking into his hand, and he growls, pumping harder, curling those thick digits ‘til your vision blurs. The suit’s rubbing against your thighs, coarse and unforgiving, and it’s filthy—he’s filthy—still stinking of smoke and adrenaline, fucking you with his gloves on.

He pulls his fingers out, slick and glistening, and smears your mess across your lips before shoving them into your mouth. “Taste yourself,” he orders, and you suck, desperate, gagging around the leather while he watches, those white slits narrowing. “Good girl. Daddy’s gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t walk, ‘til you’re full of me.”

You whine, and he’s unbuckling the lower half of the suit—just enough to free his cock, thick and heavy, dripping pre-cum like he’s been hard for hours.

He grabs your throat with one gloved hand, squeezing just enough to make you dizzy, and lines himself up, the fat head of his cock nudging your entrance. “Beg for it,” he demands, voice a gravelly snarl, and you’re too far gone to care how pathetic you sound.

“Please, Daddy, fuck me—breed me—fill me up, I need it,” you plead, voice breaking, and that’s all it takes. He thrusts in hard, splitting you open, the stretch burning as he bottoms out in one brutal stroke. You scream, nails clawing at the suit, and he doesn’t wait—starts pounding you, relentless, the console rattling with every slam.

“Fuckin’ take it,” he grunts, hips snapping, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the cave. “Gonna stuff this tight little cunt—make you mine, princess.” The glove on your throat tightens, cutting your air just enough to make your head spin, and you’re sobbing, legs shaking as he fucks you raw—Bruce's cock wrecking you, the suit chafing your inner thighs red.

He leans down, cowl brushing your cheek, and the modulator makes him sound obscene. “You want Daddy’s cum? Want me to breed you ‘til you’re dripping, ‘til you’re swollen with it?” he growls, and you nod, frantic, clenching around him like you’re trying to milk him dry.

“Yes—fuck, yes, Daddy, fill me up, please,” you gasp, and he shifts, hoisting your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half under him. The angle’s insane—his cock hits so deep you feel it in your guts, and you’re screaming, cumming so hard your whole body locks up, gushing around him while he keeps going, fucking you through it ‘til you’re a trembling, overstimulated mess.

“That’s it, cum on Daddy’s cock,” he snarls, pace turning feral, and you feel him swell, twitching inside you. “Gonna pump you full—gonna make you my little breeding bitch.” He slams in one last time, burying himself to the hilt, and cums with a guttural roar—hot, thick spurts flooding your cunt, spilling out around his dick as he keeps thrusting, forcing it deeper, marking you inside.

You’re a wreck—pussy throbbing, leaking his cum down your thighs, the suit’s rough edges still digging into your skin—and he doesn’t stop. He pulls out just to flip you over, bending you across the console face-down, ass up, and shoves back in, fucking his cum into you like he’s trying to make damn sure it sticks. “Not done,” he growls, gloved hands bruising your hips. “Gonna fuck you ‘til you can’t think, ‘til all you know is my cock.”

You’re whimpering, incoherent—“Too much, Daddy, fuck”—but he doesn’t care, keeps railing you ‘til your knees buckle, ‘til you’re drooling on the keyboard, another orgasm ripping through you so hard you black out for a second. He’s relentless, a machine, the suit creaking with every thrust, and when he cums again, it’s a flood—dripping down your legs, pooling on the floor, a nasty, freaky mess that only Bruce could leave behind.

Finally, he slows, breathing ragged through the modulator, and pulls you back against his chest—the suit cold and hard, his cock still twitching inside you. “Such a good girl for Daddy,” he murmurs, softer now, gloved hand stroking your hair as you tremble, fucked-out and full. He doesn’t take the cowl off, just tilts your chin up to kiss you—lips rough against yours, tasting of sweat and sin.

“Mine,” he growls, possessive, and you feel it—his cum leaking out, the ache settling in, the way he’s claimed you. You’re his, alright—Daddy’s little breeding toy, fucked stupid in the heart of his cave.

— DICK GRAYSON ⋆

The Blüdhaven night’s alive with neon and grime, and you’re perched on a rooftop, waiting for him—Nightwing, the city’s golden boy turned reckless tease. You’ve been playing this game too long: flirting over comms, brushing hands during stakeouts, until he finally snapped last week and fucked you senseless in an alley. Now, he’s late, and you’re antsy—legs dangling over the edge, heartbeat ticking up—when you hear that familiar whistle, cocky and bright.

“Miss me, babe?” he calls, flipping down from a higher ledge, landing in a crouch that shows off every damn line of that skin-tight Nightwing suit. The black and blue clings to him like a second skin, outlining his broad shoulders, tight ass, and the bulge you’ve been dreaming about all day. He straightens, grinning—those white lenses glinting in the dark—and saunters over, all swagger and mischief. “Caught you waiting. That’s cute.”

“Caught you staring,” you fire back, smirking, and he laughs—bright, infectious—before he’s on you, fast as a blur. One gloved hand cups your jaw, tilting your face up, and he kisses you like he’s been dying for it—hot, messy, a little sloppy with how eager he is. His tongue’s in your mouth instantly, tasting you, teasing, and you can feel him grinning against your lips. “Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to nip your bottom lip, eyes twinkling behind the mask.

Dick’s playful, needy, and oh-so-fucking horny. He spins you around, pressing you chest-first against a rusted billboard frame, and you feel the hard planes of his suit grind against your ass. “Been thinking about this all patrol,” he groans, hands sliding down your sides, gripping your hips as he rocks into you. “You in my head, driving me nuts—gonna make you pay for it, sweetheart.”

He doesn’t waste time—fingers deft and quick, peeling your pants down just enough to bare you to the night air. The suit’s rough against your skin, textured where it brushes your thighs, and you hear him fumble with the hidden zipper at his crotch, freeing that gorgeous cock—long, thick, already leaking for you. “Look at you, all ready for me,” he teases, smacking your ass lightly, playfully, before dragging the tip through your slick folds. “So fucking wet—bet you’ve been thinking about me pounding you, huh?”

“Shut up and do it,” you snap, half-laughing, half-desperate, and he chuckles—low and dirty—before sinking in, slow at first, letting you feel every inch stretch you open. “Oh, fuck, yes,” he moans, head tipping back, suit creaking as he bottoms out, balls snug against you. He doesn’t go brutal like Bruce—he’s all rhythm, hips rolling smooth and deep, fucking you with a grin you can hear. “That’s my girl—taking me so good.”

He’s a talker—won’t shut up even as he picks up the pace, slamming into you now, the wet slap of skin on skin mixing with the city’s hum. “Goddamn, this pussy’s perfect—gonna dream about this later,” he pants, one hand slipping around to rub your clit with those clever fingers, the gloves slick and cool against your heat. You moan—loud, shameless—and he laughs again, delighted. “Yeah, let me hear you, babe—scream for Nightwing.”

He’s relentless but fun—grabbing your hair to pull you back just enough to kiss your neck, sucking bruises there while he fucks you harder, the suit’s edges scraping your skin in the best way. “Wanna flip you over—see that pretty face when you cum,” he says, and before you can blink, he’s spinning you, lifting you like you weigh nothing—acrobat strength on full display. He hooks your legs over his shoulders, pinning you against the billboard, and thrusts back in, grinning like a kid who stole the candy jar.

“Fuck—Dick—” you gasp, and he winks—those lenses flashing—driving deeper, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl. “That’s it, say my name—gonna make you lose it,” he promises, voice husky now, less playful, more feral. His fingers circle your clit faster, and you’re done—cumming hard, clenching around him, crying out as your whole body shakes. He groans, watching you fall apart, “So fucking hot—love it when you squeeze me like that.”

He’s close—hips stuttering, grip tightening—and he pulls you flush against him, suit rubbing your tits raw as he chases it. “Where do you want me, huh? Tell me quick,” he pants, and you smirk, breathless—“On me, all over me.” That’s his cue—he pulls out, stroking himself fast, and cums with a loud, “Fuck, yes—” painting your stomach, your thighs, even catching your chin with hot, thick ropes. He’s grinning, chest heaving, swiping a finger through it and popping it in his mouth like a goddamn tease. “Tastes better with you.”

You’re a mess—panting, covered in him—and he’s still got that cheeky spark, tugging you close, kissing you soft now, all lazy and satisfied. “Round two back at my place?” he murmurs, tucking himself back into the suit, adjusting the escrima sticks on his back like he didn’t just fuck you stupid. “Got a bed with your name on it—and maybe some handcuffs.”

“Lead the way, Grayson,” you say, and he scoops you up—half-carrying, half-dragging—already plotting the next way he’ll wreck you.

— JASON TODD ⋆

The safehouse reeks of gunpowder and copper when Jason kicks the door open, his heavy boots thudding against the floorboards. He’s a fucking mess—blood streaked across his Red Hood helmet, leather jacket torn at the shoulder, crimson dripping down his gloves from a night of cracking skulls. The guns strapped to his thighs clink with every step, and he’s still riding that adrenaline high, chest heaving, muscles coiled tight. He wasn’t expecting you here—not tonight—but there you are, sprawled on his shitty mattress, fingers buried deep in your own cunt, moaning his name like a prayer.

“Fuck me,” he rasps, voice distorted through the modulator, low and guttural as he freezes in the doorway. His helmet tilts, taking in the sight—your legs spread wide, pussy glistening, eyes half-lidded with lust. You don’t even flinch, just keep fucking yourself, smirking like you knew he’d walk in like this. “Couldn’t wait, huh, you needy little slut?” he growls, kicking the door shut with a bang, already shrugging off the jacket but leaving the holsters on—guns and all.

“Jason—” you whimper, fingers slowing, and he’s on you in a flash, still bloody, still armored, grabbing your wrist and yanking your hand away. “Oh no, you don’t get to stop now,” he snarls, smearing your slick over his glove as he shoves your thighs apart wider, the cold metal of his gauntlets biting your skin. “You wanted me, you’re fuckin’ getting me.” His free hand rips at his belt, pulling his cock out—thick, hard, tip already leaking—and you barely get a breath before he’s hauling you up by your hair, forcing you onto your knees.

“Open that pretty mouth,” he orders, voice rough as gravel, and when you do—lips parting, tongue out—he doesn’t wait. He grabs one of his guns from the holster, still warm from the fight, and presses the barrel to your temple, cold steel kissing your skin. “You like this, don’t you? My dirty fuckin’ girl,” he taunts, smearing blood from his glove across your cheek as he shoves his cock past your lips, deep and brutal, hitting the back of your throat ‘til you gag.

He’s feral—nothing gentle, nothing soft—just pure, unfiltered Jason. His hips snap forward, fucking your face like it’s a goddamn mission, the wet choke of your throat filling the room as he grips your hair tighter, pulling ‘til your scalp stings. “That’s it—take it, choke on me,” he groans, modulator crackling with his ragged breaths, the helmet’s red glow casting shadows over your tear-streaked face. The gun stays steady, a fucked-up promise—he won’t pull the trigger, but the threat’s got your cunt dripping, thighs clenching as he uses you.

“Fuck, you’re a sight—drooling all over my dick,” he mutters, yanking you off with a wet pop, strings of spit hanging between your lips and his cock. He doesn’t give you time to recover—just drags you up by the hair, spinning you around, and shoves you face-first into the mattress. “Ass up, now,” he barks, smacking your thigh hard enough to leave a welt, and you scramble to obey, pussy throbbing, aching for him.

He doesn’t bother stripping—keeps the helmet on, the leather creaking, blood still tacky on his hands as he lines up, slamming into you with one vicious thrust. You scream, the stretch burning, and he laughs—dark, filthy—grabbing the gun again and pressing it to your lower back. “Move, baby—fuck yourself on me,” he growls, but he’s already pounding, hips slamming so hard the bed shakes, his cock splitting you open, hitting deep and relentless.

“Jason—fuck—too much—” you gasp, but he just pulls your hair ‘til your back arches, forcing you to take more, the gun sliding up your spine, cold and dangerous. “Too much? Nah, you can take it—you were begging for it with your fingers in that slutty little cunt,” he snarls, voice dripping with lust and menace. Blood smears on your skin where he grips you, and the helmet’s modulator makes every grunt sound inhuman, primal—fucking you like an animal fresh from the hunt.

He leans over, chest plate digging into your back, and bites your shoulder through the suit—teeth scraping, bruising. “Gonna mark you up—let everyone know who owns this pussy,” he rasps, thrusting harder, the gun now tracing your jawline as he reaches around, shoving two bloody fingers into your mouth. “Suck ‘em clean, c’mon,” he demands, and you do—tasting iron and him, moaning around them while he fucks you into the mattress.

You’re close—too close—clenching tight around him, and he feels it, growling, “Cum for me, you filthy bitch—let me feel it.” The gun presses harder, his pace turning sloppy, brutal, and when you shatter—screaming, gushing all over his cock—he doesn’t slow down, just keeps railing you, chasing his own end. “Fuck—gonna fill you up,” he grunts, yanking your head back one last time as he cums, hot and thick, spilling deep inside you ‘til it’s leaking out around him.

He pulls out, panting, helmet still on, and smacks your ass one more time for good measure, leaving a bloody handprint. “Stay there—look at that mess,” he says, voice low and smug, watching his cum drip down your thighs. He drags the gun barrel through it, smearing it over your skin, then leans close—modulator crackling—“Next time, I’m fucking you with this loaded.”

You’re wrecked, trembling, and he’s already holstering the gun, adjusting his jacket like he didn’t just destroy you. “Clean up, princess,” he tosses over his shoulder, but the way he lingers by the door says he’s not done—not by a long shot. Red Hood doesn’t play nice, and you’re his favorite fucking toy.

— DAMIAN WAYNE ⋆

The Wayne Manor study is a damn fortress—dark wood, flickering lamplight, and Damian hunched over a desk littered with maps and case files, looking like he’s about to murder someone. He’s in that stupidly hot Robin tunic—green and red clinging to his lean frame, mask off, black hair mussed from running his hands through it too many times. You’ve been pacing behind him for twenty minutes, thighs rubbing together, pussy throbbing, because he promised he’d fuck you hours ago and now he’s buried in work like some self-righteous little bitch.

“Damian,” you snap, voice dripping with heat, leaning over his shoulder so your tits brush his back. “Put the damn papers down and fuck me already.” He doesn’t even flinch—just keeps scribbling, muttering something about “Gotham’s safety” like you give a shit. “Beloved, I’m occupied,” he says, all clipped and cold, that posh accent making your blood boil hotter. Occupied? Oh, fuck that.

You grab his chair, spin it around so fast he drops his pen, and he’s glaring up at you—emerald eyes sharp, jaw tight, all that bratty defiance he’s so damn good at. “I said I’m busy,” he growls, but his hands twitch, like he’s fighting not to grab you, and you clock it—he’s hard under those tights, bulge straining like a liar’s promise. “Busy being a little bitch,” you spit back, and before he can snap, you slap him—hard—right across that pretty face. His head jerks, cheek blooming red, and his eyes widen, stunned, then darken with something feral.

“You—” he starts, but you don’t let him finish. You climb onto his lap, straddling him, yanking his head back by his hair ‘til he’s forced to look at you. “Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, grinding down on that thick, trapped cock, feeling it twitch under you. “You don’t get to play martyr while I’m soaking wet and dying for it.” He groans—low, broken—and you smirk, spitting right into his open mouth. He chokes, swallowing it, and you see it: the moment he cracks, pride crumbling, lust taking over.

“Fuck, you’re disgusting,” he rasps, but his hands are on your hips now, gripping tight, and you know you’ve got him. “Yeah, and you love it,” you taunt, ripping your shirt off, letting your tits spill out, nipples hard and begging. His eyes lock on them, hungry, and you slap him again—lighter this time, playful, but it still stings. “Eyes up here, asshole,” you say, spitting again—this time on his cheek, watching it drip down as he shudders, cock jumping against you.

You don’t bother with his tunic—just shove the tights down enough to free that gorgeous dick—long, veiny, leaking precum like he’s been aching as bad as you. “Gonna ride you ‘til you cry,” you promise, lining him up, and he snarls—“Try it, harlot”—but it’s all bravado, because when you sink down, taking him in one brutal drop, he moans like a fucking virgin, head tipping back, throat bared. “Oh—fuck—” he gasps, and you laugh, nasty and loud, starting to bounce.

You ride him hard—hips slamming down, pussy clenching tight around him, wet and messy, soaking his lap. The chair creaks, threatening to collapse, and you don’t care—let it break, let the whole damn manor hear. “Look at you,” you pant, grabbing his jaw, forcing him to meet your gaze. “All that big talk, and you’re just my little fucktoy now.” He growls, but it’s weak, hips bucking up to meet you, desperate, and you spit into his mouth again—harder this time. “Swallow it,” you order, and he does, choking, eyes glassy with need.

Your pace is relentless—grinding, bouncing, thighs burning as you fuck him stupid. His hands claw at your ass, your tits, everywhere, and you slap them away, pinning his wrists above his head. “No touching,” you snarl, and he whines—actually whines—struggling but loving it, cock pulsing inside you. “Please—fuck—beloved—” he begs, voice cracking, and you grin, feral, leaning down to bite his lip ‘til it bleeds, licking it clean while you ride him faster.

“Thought you were too busy,” you mock, spitting on his chest now, rubbing it into the Robin emblem with your fingers. “Too good for this pussy—guess you’re not, huh?” He’s a mess—sweat-slick, bloody-lipped, moaning your name like a prayer—and you feel him throb, close, so you slow down, dragging it out ‘til he’s thrashing under you. “No—no, don’t stop—” he pleads, and you slap him again, sharp and loud. “You don’t tell me what to do,” you growl, picking up speed, riding him so hard the desk rattles.

“Gonna cum for me, Dami?” you purr, clenching tight, and he nods, frantic—“Yes—fuck, yes—” You feel it building, that tight, hot coil in your gut, and you spit one last time—right on his tongue—as you slam down, cumming hard, screaming his name as your pussy milks him dry. He breaks—crying out, hips jerking, spilling deep inside you, hot and thick, shuddering through it ‘til he’s whimpering, wrecked.

You don’t stop—keep riding, slow and mean, overstimulating him ‘til he’s squirming, gasping, “Too much—fuck—” but you just laugh, grinding ‘til he’s twitching, cum leaking out around his cock, staining his tights. “Should’ve fucked me sooner,” you say, climbing off, leaving him slumped, panting, a sweaty, bloody mess in that chair—work forgotten, pride gone, just your perfect, ruined boy.

“Next time,” you warn, wiping your spit-slick hand on his tunic, “don’t make me wait.” He looks up, dazed, lips swollen, and mumbles, “Never again,” voice hoarse, and you know he means it.

— MASTERLIST ☆

— © luv-lock. Don't copy, use or translate any of my works here or any other websites ☆

[holeforzenin]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI!

Tw - STEPCEST, cheating, age-gap(early 20s n early 40s), anal play, daddy/dad kink, oral, some really inappropriate and gross stuff. Stepcest isn’t blood related. Not proofread.

A/n - “Toji wouldn’t do th-“ I don’t give a shit, goodnight.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who secretly rubs your little pussy through your thin cotton panties from underneath the blanket while you're having a movie night with your family in the living room.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who tells your clueless mother that he’s taking you on a daddy-and-daughter bonding trip for a few days so the two of you can spend more time together and get to know each other more which only ends up with his hefty cock being stuffed deep into your innocent pussy— filling you up to the brim in some random hotel not too far from your house.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who instantly gets rock hard whenever you'd call him “dad” or “daddy”. He just can’t help when a sweet young thing like you is innocently batting your eyelashes up at him and asking him for his assistance. God, you’re so helpless, you can’t do anything without the help from your dad, not even cumming. :(

Which is why he has to sneak into your bedroom dead at night and skillfully poke his stepdaughter’s g-spot with his fat tip till you can finally cum and make a big mess on his cock.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who's obsessed with you sitting on his face, your warm dripping pussy nestled in his mouth while his eager tongue skillfully laps at the essence of your arousal from your glistening entrance. His nose presses into your rim purposefully, causing your adorable hole to wink against his nose in playful response to his inhales and breathing. He needs you on his face at least once a day :(

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who you coincidentally encounter in the bathroom, late at night while he’s pissing so that quickly escalated with his girthy cock now being shoved down your throat and he's thrusting it rhythmically in and out your mouth. Your eyes begin to well up with tears which only fuels him even more to use your mouth to his favor as he deviously grins down at you when he notices how you're helplessly playing with your drenched pussy with your fingers.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who gets off from being risky, especially when your mom is dozing off on the couch and he has you forcefully bent over the cold marble kitchen counter with one of his muscular hands pressed firmly against your lower back so you won't escape from his hold. His fat thumb is clogging your ass and his veiny cock is stretching your little pussy apart around his shaft while his angry tip is exploring the depths of your cunt.

He'd be such a mean man and force his thumb deeper and deeper into your asshole just so he can get a cute reaction from you and hear you whine while you desperately claw at his beefy forearm for him to stop :( He only chuckles and laughs at how scared you are as if you don't love it as much as he does.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who loves referring to himself as Daddy while he's balls deep into your slippery hole. Your trembling knees are knocking against your soft, bouncing tits and you're desperately gasping for air while your nails are sinking into his strong hand that's encircling your neck. "Shh shh c'mon be a good little step-kid f'daddy and take my cock". He whispers, trailing a thumb up to your glossy lips before inserting it into your mouth for you to suck on.

His cock is crammed into your tight pussy, and the way you keep sucking him in deeper and deeper every hazy second makes him not want to pull out anytime soon. He just can't get enough of your pussy. "That's it, that's baby, yer making daddy feel sooo good".

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who has developed a habit of sniffing your cunt and ass, he just can't help it :( he just loves your natural scent and can't get enough of you when he's bending down behind your small figure while you're engrossed in cooking dinner for the family and pulls your shorts down to bury his pointy nose in your moist pussy.

A plague of worries clouds your head when you feel his nose prodding into your tight entrance in the open. "T-toji! n-not here, she'll see!", you pleaded as you attempted to push his head away from your rear only for him to clasp both of your hands into his larger ones with just a chuckle rumbling against your cunny. soft whimpers escape your lips when you hear his loud whiffs of your pussy.

GRIMY STEP-DAD TOJI! who loves nothing more than licking his step-daughter’s little pussy at any given chance he gets :(

It's so prohibited and “taboo” and the older man is very much aware of that but he just can't help it when he's quietly slipping into your bedroom late at night to run his salivating tongue over the sapping mound— He’s been practically thinking about it the entire day.

His clothed cock immediately starts twitching uncontrollably every time his grimy thoughts clouded his vivid imagination, all he could do at work was discreetly palm his hardened bulge and give it a hard squeeze for friction and temporary relief.

He barely could wait till everyone was asleep to taste your delicious pussy again.

A deep involuntary groan leaves his lips from the taste of your creamy pussy melting on his tastebuds. The sensation of the sticky slick clinging onto his tongue stirred a desperate throbbing in his cock, yearning for more. God, every fiber of his being ached to plunge his hard cockhead into your warm, virgin pussy and ravish you until you painted his shaft with your cream but he won't... at least not yet.

Luckily for him, you were sleeping on your stomach and the tranquility of your slumber allowed him to cautiously lower your adorable panties down, gently resting it at your lower thighs, and parted your plush cheeks using his thumbs to peek at your delicate pussy. The glossy sheen veiling your folds glistened in the dim light, making his fat cock throb with urgency.

“Fuck, so pretty” he whispered breathlessly, sticking his tongue out to lap at your messy folds, his tongue flickers back and forth, licking up at your wetness and replacing it with his spit and intertwining saliva. Unfortunately for him, you weren’t a heavy sleeper so the sensation of his soft, wet tongue wiggling against your most intimate place was enough to stir you awake.

Your eyelids flutter open weakly, giving way to the heavy fog of slumber that still clung to your countenance. Sleep is evident in your features as your tummy tingles from the continuous sensation of the stimulation. Your vision was clouded with fuzziness but you could still make out the muscular silhouette of your step-father.

He was huge and muscular, he wasn’t built like some ordinary man so there was no mistake that it was him.

“Daddy?”You mumbled innocently, rubbing your eyes in hopes of having a clearer view after.

“W-hat are you doing?”

“Shh shh, go back to sleep doll. Dad’s gonna take care of ya” he lightly chuckled before caressing your ass and placing a few wet kisses on your soft cheeks.

[phantomsies]

𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖙 • 𝖆.𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖙

your biggest fan soon becomes your biggest obsession….

black onlyfans creator!reader (fem descriptions), nerdy!armin, public sex/public masturbation, squirting, mentions of toys, exhibitionism, throatfucking, cumshot

📝: I wanted to go a completely different direction with this but a) it’s no longer kinktober and it would’ve much better suited that and b) nerd!armin just scratches an itch in my brain I can’t quite put my finger on. So enjoy! 🫶🏾 (also, I AM SO SORRY THIS SHIT IS SO LONG 😭😭 I don’t intend on headcanons being this length but I can’t shut the fuck up.)

═✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿═══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

nerd!armin had been a dutiful subscriber of (y/n) (l/n)’s or as the world knew you, (performer name) for quite some time. He’d faithfully watched your content, never missing an upload to your sites and shamelessly scrolling your Twitter.

nerd!armin preferred your videos over others because they were so unique. Always willing to push the envelope by shooting in unconventional spaces; your car, public bathrooms and even dressing rooms..a polar opposite to his shy, bashful nature. In a way, he was jealous but also aroused..

from your long acrylics, fluffy lashes, colorful hair that changed from video to video and of course, the beautiful, dark brown complexion that radiated underneath the sun or ring lights, nerd!armin was obsessed.

nerd!armin would lie in bed after a long study session, classes or even a hard day at work..mindlessly stroking his cock in one hand as he held his phone in the other, eyes glued to the screen whilst you performed those lewd acts.

shoving those dildos in and out of your tight cunt, those pretty pink walls and plump brown lips sucking on that silicone toy..stretching yourself open all for his pleasure. A jeweled butt plug shoved into your ass and cream oozing down onto that gorgeous skin and the leather of your seats as you worked yourself into countless orgasms..mewling and begging for the would be viewer to keep fucking you..

“Fuck, I’m about to come, daddy..you’re gonna make me squirt.” Crying out as nerd!armin jerked himself even faster..subconsciously responding back without a single other person being in the room. ”Squirt for me, baby. Come..” Whimpering before exploding with a load of his own..

despite only being an intern, nerd!armin was well off from his freelancing tech work and although it didn’t leave him much room for socializing, he would tip you amicably on all the new content, as well as leave kind, respectful, encouraging words. It wasn’t something you saw often in this field.

it also didn’t take nerd!armin long to realize that you never featured a partner in any of your content like some girls eventually did. Only the various assortment of toys gifted to you by supporters. Which only further fed his delusions when you made a mess and glared into the camera, batting those doe brown eyes before saying “..look at what you made me do..that big dick feels so good..”

nerd!armin, who had only been with one woman sexually in his entire life and didn’t date often, could only dream of being with a girl like you.

so it came as no surprise when you announced that you would be opening a contest to film with one of your subscribers for the first time, nerd!armin leaped at the chance! The thought of getting to fuck the woman he’d hopelessly fawned over excited him.

nerd!armin nearly fainted when he got a DM on OnlyFans one day to see that he had won, asking when he’d like to arrange the meetup.

nerd!armin was understandably nervous on the day you two came face to face..but felt as ease when you continuously reassured him and even made sure that both of you had been tested, as well as protection.

“You’re so cute..it’s nice to finally meet you. Thank you for supporting me..” your gentle voice sent a shockwave of butterflies soaring through nerd!armin’s stomach as you wrapped him in a tight hug…and of course, a tightening in his pants upon laying eyes on his favorite creator. But that was merely the beginning.

nerd!armin found himself blushing when you slowly traced circles all over his skin, examining the single tattoo on his forearm and complimenting the smell of his cologne as the two of you sat alone in the bedroom of the designated filming space of your spacious home. Impressed by the bookshelves full of old literature he passed on the way in.

“Mmmm..you’re nervous, aren’t you?” “…I guess you could say that.” “Well don’t be, I’m going to make sure we have a good time, I promise..”

nerd!armin had no idea just how true you were to your word when less than ten minutes after the camera came on, you were on your knees, tongue extended and a wide smile on your face as he towered over you.

nerd!armin could hardly contain himself when eventually, those glossy brims were now encompassed around his cock. Slurping noises emanating around the room, along with his adorable cries…sloppy drool and gag spit spilling from that wet mouth and onto the pulsating head, shaft and those swollen balls. Disregarding the fact that your pretty face had become a disheveled mess.

“Oh my God…that feels so good, beautiful. Your mouth feels fucking amazing..” “You wanna come for me, baby?” “..yes! Drain me, please..” pathetically pleading whilst relentlessly fucking your throat.

nerd!armin unabashedly spent days, practicing his stroke on a translucent flesh light, feeding it deep thrusts and stuffing it with an ungodly amount of cum, examining your videos like study material..in hopes of gaining some stamina against you.

but nothing could prepare nerd!armin for the sheer sensation that being inside of you brought upon him.. however, he wasn’t the only one caught off guard..especially when he’d gently tug your head down and force you to watch as he glided into that narrow hole.. a move he’d learn from his tapes.

“It’s so big..damn..” “I told you..” giggling to yourselves as your gazes met and he’d begin to move.

nerd!armin almost felt compelled to believe that you were faking your moans like other pornstars so often did…but that misconception was cleared up when your eyes began to trail back, legs began to tremble and a slight bulge formed at the very bottom of your stomach.

“Yes, you stretching the fuck out of this pussy, baby..right there!..” “Am-am I doing a good job?” “You fucking me so good, please don’t stop.”

nerd!armin nearly lost all composure when you all but pushed him away, only to shower him in a stream of your juices. Only increasing as he tapped that swollen tip against your quivering folds.

nerd!armin didn’t last more than five minutes after that powerful climax and began dry heaving as his own neared. Ushering you back to your knees to paint those pretty features and tits with his load.

nerd!armin was convinced that once the cameras shut off, you’d put him out for nutting too quickly. Surely a woman of your caliber would never deal with that again. But yet again, he was proven wrong when you smiled up at him, flicking your tongue across your lips before posing a question. “So..where should we should film next time? We gotta do this more often..”

nerd!armin had found himself the newest and sole object of (creator’s name) affection!

[batsyheere]

The Bats tend to have favorite civilians, paramedics, cops, that they love to mess with or claim. It gets even worse when multiple Bats favor the same person and try to call dibs.

Danny ends up as one of these people.

It starts when he gets off of work late and finds Red Hood and Red Robin sitting on the curb eating pizza. He hadn't eaten anything all day, and it smelled delicious, and so what few braincells Danny had left scattered and he asks, "Can I have a slice?"

Both vigilantes turn to look at him, then each other, and shrug. They let him take a slice.

It was only the beginning.

Spoiler gets a tired "thanks" saving Danny from a mugging.

Black Bat practically buzzes with glee when she learns Danny knows sign language and helps her speak with a child witness.

Signal gets a more energetic Danny, though also a cautious distance after Signal once smacked into Danny and spilled his coffee all over the poor man.

Nightwing gets the brunt of one of his bad days when Danny decides he's done being held hostage and slips out of the bindings to chuck his shoe at the Riddler. Nightwing hi-fives him later for managing to hit Riddler in the face.

Even Robin has moments with Danny, after catching him taking care of some stray animals amd chasing off idiots who were looking for dogs to put into a recent (and very quickly shut down) dog fighting ring.

When everyone actually figures out Danny is the SAME Danny they all have been seeing around, Bruce has to fight the instinctive headache at the incoming fights. And resist the urge of looking up what seemed to be just a random Gothamite.

Danny at this point just wants a nap. And for these weird undead beings that didn't do well with his ice to stop coming for him. He had student debts to pay.

[classyrbf]

boss!nanami who has this cold and off putting demeanor, seeming to intimidate everyone in the office. His voice is always stern and deep and he quite observes the rest of the employees without saying a word. No one has ever dared to disobey his orders or deadlines, feeling the need to impress their boss who sits in his locked office all day, having meetings and filing through tedious paperwork. But what everyone is so unaware of is that office assistant, you, are secretly on your knees every morning, waiting under the bosses desk like you should be. He simply greets by cupping you face, running the pad of his thumb along your cheek while you snuggle into his palm, undoing his belt simultaneously. He’s already hard, an obvious bulge in his pants.

A low grown emits from his throat the moment you take him in your mouth. You’re swirling your wet tongue around his swollen tip, licking up every last drop of pre cum while jerking him off. He leans back his chair, eyes shut as he sighs in bliss. “Good girl, just like that.” He places his hand on the back of your head and pushes you further down, his cock stretching your throat until your gagging on it. “Nnnghh, fuck!” He grunts. A knock on the door startles both you and Nanami and he’s quick to pull you off his cock so you can breathe.

“Sorry, sir, I don’t mean to interrupt. I just have the reports that you wanted. They’re completely filled out and the information from the sister company also did their part.” A woman spoke, her voice shaking. She was clearly nervous.

Nanami stroked your hair as you sucked on his balls, dragging your tongue all the wall from the base to the tip, placing a soft kiss on the head. His hips slightly jerked at the sensation. The hand that was petting your hair now tugging at it as a warning sign.

He cleared his throat, taking the file from the woman. “Thank you. I’ll look into it.” And with that the woman left. Nanami scooted his chair back, looking down at the sloppy mess your were creating. “You tryna get caught?” He glares at you only for you send him a smile in return. “Yeah, I bet you are. Bet it gets you all excited just thinking about it. You wouldn’t care if everyone in this office watched you take me down your throat, hm?”

“No, sir,” you batted your eyelashes at him. You took him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down his veiny shaft.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” he scoffed, trained eyes fixated on the way you sucked him off, loving how messy you get. “I’ve got a meeting in five, so be a good girl and make this quick.” He ordered, pushing your head down lower. His entire body shivered when your throat squeezed around him.

He knows you’ll be able to do it, you have every morning for the past three months since you began working here. And when everyone else goes home, he’ll see you again as well. You could say he enjoys coming to work a little more just because of you.