#is this cursed? I feel like this is cursed.

[purplelightningworms]

Lay my Reese’s all to rest

Make a Hershey out of me

ashes to ashes, dust to dust, reeses to pieces

[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.

[ozarkthedog]

WARNINGS: 18+ mdni. riding Joel on the couch. slight size difference kink. -> no plot, only fucking that old man <- W.C: 468 AUTHOR'S NOTE: enjoy this word vomit. i saw this pic and then went brain dead.

Jumping Joel's bones the second he's through the door after a day of patrolling.

Pushing the brick wall of a man back on the couch and dropping to your knees, unbuckling his belt in record time, and teasing his soft cock until he's leaking and throbbing hard over your tongue. His hips rise off the couch as he presses his girth further down your throat, making you sputter and gag. Joel runs his fingers over your scalp, cooing your sticky whimpers. He looks down at you, absolutely memorized by the satisfied tears in your eyes. "Needed him pretty bad, huh?"

You nod with his cock still lodged in your throat; the simple vibration of your muddle response is enough to make his eyes slam closed and cock leak over your tongue.

"Get up 'ere," He grits, helping you rise on weary legs and hastily tug your panties to the ground. He cradles your hips as you settle onto his lap, forming his larger body around yours; he taps his weeping crown against your dripping heat, teasing you like you teased him not long ago.

"Think you can take him? Take e'ery inch?" he rasps, his still throat hoarse from a day out in the cold.

Your hands clutch his broad shoulders, his weather-worn jacket smelling of birch and snow bunches in your grip as he ever so slowly eases you down his cock.

His massive palms curve around your hips and lewdly palm your ass until your clit touches the grey-brown curls that litter the base of his cock.

"There ya go. Spreadin' 'er all the way open for him," He flexes his length, sending a shock wave through your system, igniting all the nerves that drove you mad all day.

You bite back a curse on the first steady rise and fall on his cock. His salt and pepper facial hair bristles your skin as he pants against your cheek while you ride him. "I can feel your fuckin' heartbeat."

Your knees dig into the cushions, and frantic breaths burst from your lungs on each bounce as pleasure blossoms in your belly. Joel's expansive hands easily reach around your waist and guide you along every ridge and blood pumping vein, easing your distress and seeking out the ache only he knows how to quell.

He presses his forehead to yours and shares your breath, driving you closer and closer to becoming one. You drown happily in his coffee dark eyes as a wave of bliss races down you're spine.

"Lookit' you fallin' apart so quickly," a feral hand curls around the back of your neck and tips your head, making you look down at where you're connected. The base of his cock glistens with fresh white cream. "Comin' on my cock like you were made for it."

[brawberryz]

Goodbye World

BatFam Yan! × Neglected Magic Girl! Reader 《Platonic!》

Note: English is not my first language, sorry if there is any translation error

Pt: 2

"(NAME), PLEASE DON'T GO!"

the girl screamed trying to stop her, this couldn't be happening, this shouldn't have happened, I was supposed to have more time but your transformation accelerated

"I'm sorry, ######, but there's no time left... sorry"

"Please (Name)!, don't go..."

The girl felt tears falling from her face, she was supposed to save you but she made the same mistake again...

"Goodbye"

You gave her one last smile before falling to the ground and your body began to deform

"(NAMEE)!"

The girl screamed for the last time before your vision went dark, there was no more pain or suffering, you felt like your body was deformed but you couldn't feel or do anything it was like you only had your conscience left

The original (name) had disappeared forever, and there was nothing else to do

Or well, maybe there was something they could do

_

Bruce was sitting in front of the batcomputer trying to find any trace of you, but there was nothing, not even a trace, it was like you had vanished in the wind

He felt too bad since your last interaction with you, if he had known what would happen he would never have let you go from that hug

But it's just "would have" it was too late to regret but he could still fix things, he would find you and take you home with everyone else and finally have the family you always dreamed of

"We found nothing, not a single clue"

Richard entered the batcave feeling defeated Again, he went out with the whole family to look for some clue but there was nothing, they even tried to see if some villain had you kidnapped but there was no one who knew about you

"This is shit"

Jason said angrily while leaning against a wall, as much as he didn't want to admit it in a way it was his fault he always treated you badly and insulted you

You had too many reasons to leave the mansion and hate all of them, but if he was honest he hated the feeling that you had left, you are supposed to be a family and you should stay together

Wherever you are they will find you and when they do they will never let you escape from their hands again

"And Tim?"

Bruce asked without taking his eyes off the Batcomputer, he hated feeling like he couldn't be in control, not having control over you, like he always had

"He decided to stay a little longer to patrol and see if he found something"

Jason said putting his hands in his jacket pockets, wherever you are he just hoped you were okay although knowing how Gotham is, it would be a miracle if you were okay without a single scratch

"I'm leaving here"

Damian spoke as he walked angrily out of the batcave, a part of him was angry with you and with himself, he was angry with you because you abandoned him without even saying goodbye or giving him reasons, you decided to hide and not tell anyone

He hated having things hidden from him, and at the same time he was angry with himself for how he treated you in the past, but he had changed he swears! When you get back to the mansion she'll be the best sister you've ever seen

"Damian, wait-"

Richard tries to stop him but Damian just pushes him out of his way before yelling at him

"SHUT UP, I don't plan on staying here even a minute longer.(Name) is lost somewhere in this stupid city and all we do is stay here like idiots"

Damian said angrily as he quickly left the batcave

Richard just sighed, when Damian had something in mind there was nothing that would stop him from reaching it, not even his own family

_

Damian walked angrily down the hallway of the mansion cursing under his breath

He continued walking until a door caught his attention, it was half open and he could barely see the small light coming out

Curious, he decided to open it, he was surprised when he realized it was your room...

It was small but still well decorated, it bothered him a little that your room was so far away from the others

He didn't want to invade your privacy (if he wanted to) but the curiosity about your things was too great, he began looking in your drawers but only found unfinished crafts or clothes

It seemed strange to him that all your clothes were still in their place, if the theory that you ran away was true you should have brought some clothes, but everything was completely in order

As he continued looking he found a photo album, it seemed old since it had some dust

He removed the dust that it had and decided to open it, there was almost nothing interesting just photos of you, some from when you were little and others from your birthdays

But there was one that caught his attention, you were in a park with a girl, it seemed to him It was strange that you had left since you never left the mansion

He was also very bothered by the approach that girl had with (name), who did she think she was to touch her sister like that?

But if he was honest, in that photo you really looked happy...

You didn't have that forced happiness like in all the photos, in this one it was seen that you really felt happy with that strange girl

He put aside the album and went back to searching through your things to see if he could find something else

Some of your drawers were full of board games full of dust, he remembered that once you asked him to play one with you but he simply ignored you and said that you had time for children's games

A soft voice took him out of his thoughts

"What are you doing in (name)'s room?"

Cassadran asked, looking at Damian with doubt. She thought it was strange that he was in your room since she thought she was the only one besides Alfred who knew your room.

"Something that doesn't matter to you."

Damian answered abruptly as he continued searching through your drawers.

"You seem too worried about her to be going through her things without permission."

Cassadran spoke again. She thought it was strange that none of the family members were around the house, but she didn't pay much attention and decided to go to your room to greet you. But she was surprised when she found Damian searching through your things.

"So what? It doesn't matter now that (name) is missing. I don't think it will bother her. Besides, it's for research purposes."

Damian was getting tired of Cass's insistence, because out of nowhere he is so worried about his privacy. Were you two close?

"Missing?"

Cassadran repeated in surprise, that answer hit Cass hard, she never imagined it would really happen, were you able to leave the mansion? Although if she was honest you had reasons to leave this fucking place

"Yes, my sister is missing and apparently I'm the only one who cares about her and tries to find some clue, so go away you're just bothering me"

Damian let out a snort of annoyance before resuming his search through your things

"She's your sister now?"

That answer took Damian by surprise, what the hell was she referring to

"What..."

"She's your sister now?" Cass repeated again before speaking again "you always left her aside, well, everyone left them aside and I include myself but it seems hypocritical to me that you want to blame others when you are also guilty, you always look to blame others for your problems because you are an egocentric and selfish person who only thinks about himself, you don't care about her you just want to have a reason not to feel bad about yourself"

Those words left Damian speechless, he hated to admit it but she was right although he would never admit it out loud

He simply looked away and focused on continuing to search pretending as if Cassandra's words hadn't mattered to him

Cass turned around and left the room before giving Damian one last look

Deep down she hoped you were okay wherever you were, but if you were truly lost she was going to do whatever it took to find you, she wasn't going to allow herself to lose another important thing for her, not anymore

_

Tim was jumping from building to building trying to find some clue about you, but there was nothing. He had been investigating criminals, villains or gangs all night but no one knew anything about you.

At this point the guilt was drowning him, he felt like the worst brother in the world. How could he forget someone so important?

Most likely you are now in some dangerous place, alone and scared thinking that no one will go looking for you because you are not important enough for them.

But he will do everything possible to find you, I promise.

He decided to stop at the top of a tall building so he could rest. He felt the worst. He had been patrolling all over Gotham for more than 4 hours but had found nothing. At this point he felt like he would never find you. No...no, if he found you he should not lose hope. You were somewhere in this place...he just had to find out where.

He felt something fast approaching him. Before he could react correctly and dodge it, a supernatural force ended up throwing him against the fire escape of another building.

Shit... that hurt, he was sure he broke his back or some rib, that thing that pushed him had too much force, it was clear that it was not a criminal or villain, they were too fast and strong to be one

But before he could get up he saw how a black mass with a strange figure approached quickly

It was easily the size of a damn bus or bigger, whatever it was was not human, that black mass reminded him too much of someone, he felt that he knew that figure from somewhere

But before he could think that large figure ended up hitting him again

It seemed as if that thing had something personal with him like some kind of hatred or resentment

Tim tried with all his strength to recover from that last blow, he had to warn the others about this thing and to come quickly before this strange creature taken from a horror story finished him off

With his last strength he grabbed the communicator and sent a signal for help before that thing hit him again now with more force causing his body to hit a wall

It seems you already have your first victim in your hands, you were going to finish off all those who made you feel miserable and you were going to make them feel the same pain that they made you feel

The original (name) had already died, the only thing left was this creature full of resentment and hatred

You were going to destroy every person who stood in your way and if that meant having to destroy the city or the world you were going to do it

"MADOKA PLEASE DON'T GO" aahhh reference 😭🙏💀

Sorry if it's too short or something, I hope you enjoy this shitty chapter

You can leave me questions or anything about this AU, I'll be happy to answer them🙏

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — The soft splashing of water and gentle scrapes of your nails against his scalp made Sukuna’s eyes grow heavy, lashes falling shut as you worked behind him. Your presence was… soothing, he admitted privately in his head- a word he’d never associated with anything before you.

"You’re quiet tonight," you murmur, your breath warm against his ear. The gentle curve of your stomach presses against his back, and he could feel his unborn child’s curse energy- what little he could feel promised that the brat was going to be strong.

He didn’t answer immediately, too lost in the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. The king of curses, feared across lands, reduced to this- nearly purring under a pregnant woman’s gentle ministrations. The thought should have enraged him. Instead, he found himself leaning further back, his massive frame carefully controlled to avoid crushing you and that belly of yours.

Truth is, Sukuna couldn’t find the words to explain how your simple touch was undoing centuries of telling himself he couldn’t feel anything. How the sound of your humming as you focused on him made something in his chest constrict painfully… and how your swollen belly against his back filled him with a terrifying kind of joy and pride.

"Does it feel good at least?" You asked softly, working through a particularly stubborn tangle. The mouth on his stomach merely sighed in contentment.

"Mm," was all he could manage as he felt your smile against his shoulder, your lips brushing his skin in a whisper of a kiss.

Water droplets caught in his lashes as he opened his eyes partially, watching your shadow play across the room. Your fingers traced one of the black markings that adorned his body, and he tch’d at the fact he had to suppress a shudder.

"Suku-… Ryomen, tell me what troubles you, I can practically hear you thinking," your voice was barely above a whisper this time, your hands stilling on him, and for a moment, only the sound of dripping water filled the silence.

His multiple hands clenched into fists, "You're making me weak," he accused, "ruining me," he muttered.

Your hands moved to his shoulder, working a knot he hadn’t even realized was there, "m’not," you smiled, "I'm loving you. There's a difference."

Love... that dreaded word, and of course his child chose that moment to kick against your belly, as if agreeing with you. The little shit wasn’t even born yet and it was already picking sides.

"I should have killed you, spread your legs open and fucked your corpse," Sukuna sneered.

Sukuna could feel it, how that innocent smile of yours seared against his spine, followed by the melodious sound of laughter escaping your lips. Before you could think, the world shifted and you found yourself beneath his towering form, the waters surface fracturing into a thousand ripples around your bodies. His massive hand tapped your wrists above your head, another gripped your hip while the remaining two pressed where you womb was- where his child flourished, his hands trembling ever so slightly with the effort of gentle restraint.

He stared down at you, the water dripping from his hair leaving tracks along your face and neck, almost like blood from a fresh kill, but your eyes held no fear - only understanding. The mouth on his stomach hung open breathing heavily, "What have you done to me? I want to tear your heart out and rip your head off, but I also can't bear the thought of losing you, or that brat."

Slipping your arms around his neck, you smiled up at him, "Nothing you haven’t allowed."

"Watch your tongue, little lamb." The threat was hollow, and you both knew it. The kiss that followed was ever so desperate, sloppy and violent in its tenderness, but damn did it taste like the sweetest sin… Your response back- how you kissed him in return, your spit mingling with his, a soft moan on your tongue… It was better than any scream of terror he’d ever drawn from human lips. And he knew from that alone, you’d been right.

You hadn't done a thing he didn’t allow.

And for once, he didn't fight it.

[gf2bellamy]

lipgloss — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: you leave a lipgloss mark on spencer's cheek content warnings: nothing a/n: i malfunction when i see glasses spencer

You let out an exaggerated sigh, slumping forward as you rested your chin on your hand. Across from you, Spencer sat at his desk, completely engrossed in his work, the soft scratch of his pencil against paper filling the otherwise quiet bullpen. His brows furrowed in concentration as he made notes in the margins of his case files. 

“Spencer,” you whined, drawing out his name. “Do you think Hotch would say anything if I just went home?” 

Spencer glanced up at you, his honey-brown eyes softening the way they always did whenever he looked at you.

“I think he might,” he admitted, tilting his head slightly. “But you could always say you weren’t feeling well. Technically, boredom is a form of mental fatigue.” 

You let out another sigh, this one even more dramatic. “I’m just so bored,” you groaned, dragging out the last word. 

Spencer’s lips twitched in amusement before he returned to his notes. You stared at him for a moment, then perked up as an idea struck you. 

“I’m gonna make myself a coffee,” you announced, standing up and stretching. “Do you want one?” 

Spencer shook his head with a small smile. “No, that’s okay. But thanks.” 

He picked up his pen, going right back to his work. You lingered for a second before stepping closer to his desk, your lips curling into a small, mischievous smile. With no one else in the bullpen, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. 

Spencer froze. His pencil slipped from his fingers, rolling across the desk. His head snapped up, his face already turning an unmistakable shade of pink. 

Your smile widened. “What?” you teased, tilting your head. 

“You—” He blinked rapidly, his blush deepening. “We’re at work.” 

“And?” You arched a brow, feigning innocence. 

Spencer opened his mouth, then shut it, clearly searching for a response. Finally, he huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head before picking up his pencil again. 

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but the small, fond smile on his lips gave him away. 

You grinned. Mission accomplished. 

You made your way to the break room, yawning as you prepared yourself a much-needed cup of coffee. The scent of freshly brewed caffeine filled the air, and just as you reached for a mug, you heard loud voices echoing from down the hall. 

Garcia and Derek. 

As you poured your coffee, you caught snippets of their conversation—mostly Derek chuckling about something Garcia had said, followed by her dramatic gasp. They had obviously just come back from their little break.

By “little break,” they meant sneaking off to grab food somewhere without telling anyone. Classic. 

Once your cup was full, you wrapped your hands around the warm ceramic, only to immediately flinch and mutter a curse under your breath. Too hot. You blew on it a few times before deciding to just endure the heat, making your way back to the bullpen. 

The second you stepped inside, you were met with two pairs of wide, mischievous eyes locked onto you. 

“Oh my god, it is hers,” Garcia said, practically vibrating with excitement. 

You froze mid-step, raising an eyebrow. “Uh… what?” 

Your gaze flickered between them and Spencer, who was now sitting at his desk, very clearly avoiding eye contact. His ears were turning a suspicious shade of pink. 

Slowly, you walked over to your desk, setting your coffee down as you eyed them warily. Garcia and Derek were standing on either side of Spencer’s desk, arms crossed, looking like they had just cracked some kind of case. 

“Okay,” you said cautiously, dragging the word out. “Why are you all looking at me like that?” 

Silence. 

Spencer, still blushing, pretended to be very, very interested in his paperwork. Garcia and Derek, on the other hand, exchanged a knowing glance before Derek let out a low chuckle. 

“You sneaky little thing,” he teased, shaking his head. 

“What are you talking about?” You sat down slowly, still staring at them like they’d lost their minds. 

Garcia gasped dramatically. “Don’t play innocent! We know what you did.” 

Your heart skipped a beat. “What—?” 

Derek smirked, arms crossed over his chest like he’d just won the lottery. “Your lip gloss.” 

You blinked. “What about my lip gloss?” 

As if on cue, your lips instinctively pressed together, feeling the slight tackiness of the gloss you’d applied earlier. Garcia let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head. 

“You left a mark,” she said dramatically. “A very clear mark, right on Dr. Reid’s cheek.” 

Panic surged through you. 

Your eyes darted to Spencer, then to Garcia and Derek, then back to Spencer again. He was already looking at you, and now it all made sense—the blushing, the way he had been avoiding your gaze, and the way Garcia and Derek were practically bouncing with glee. 

Oh. Oh god. 

You leaned in slightly, taking a closer look. And there it was. A faint but unmistakable pink smudge on his cheek. 

Spencer huffed, finally speaking up. “She’s not letting me wipe it off,” he accused, nodding toward Garcia. 

Garcia gasped, placing a hand over her heart in mock offense. “Excuse you, Doctor! It’s called preserving evidence.” 

Derek chuckled. “Yeah, man. We gotta document this. It’s not every day you get physical proof that you two are—” 

“Shh!” you hissed, eyes widening as you quickly glanced around the bullpen. 

Your relationship with Spencer was still a secret, and the last thing you needed was someone overhearing this conversation. You shot both Garcia and Derek a glare, but they were absolutely thriving off of your reaction. 

“Relax, sweetheart,” Derek teased. “It’s just us.” 

You turned back to Spencer, who was looking at you expectantly, silently pleading for help. With a sigh, you grabbed a napkin from your desk, stepping closer to him. His eyes flickered to yours as you hesitated for just a second before reaching out, gently swiping at the mark on his cheek. 

His skin was warm beneath your touch. 

You tried to focus, but you could feel Garcia and Derek’s eyes burning into you. 

“There,” you murmured, inspecting his face. The lip gloss was gone, but his blush? Very much still there. 

Garcia clapped her hands together. “Awww, that was adorable.” 

Derek grinned. “Man, if y’all think you’re still fooling anyone—” 

Spencer groaned, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Can we please move on?” 

Garcia waved him off. “Fine, fine. But just know—this isn’t over.” 

She and Derek finally turned away, giggling to themselves as they walked off, no doubt already plotting their next round of teasing. 

You sighed, rubbing your temples before glancing at Spencer. He still looked flustered, but there was a small, barely-there smile on his lips. 

“You okay, genius?” you asked softly. 

He nodded, exhaling as he glanced at you. “You know they’re never gonna let this go, right?” 

You sighed dramatically, shaking your head. “Yeah. We’re doomed.” 

Spencer chuckled, and despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile too. 

Even if Garcia and Derek were onto you, at least work wasn’t boring anymore. 

[enhaniki-san]

Nishimura Riki as your boyfriend and remembering some of your first times with him

warnings: smut, nsfw, niki's slightly sadistic, cursing, etc.

♱ boyfriend!ni-ki who likes to annoy the shit out of you and will not say sorry at all unless you get so angry or really about to cry.

♱ boyfriend!ni-ki who's not a fan of pda but will rest a hand on your nape or hold your wrist instead of your hand. it might seem possessive outside but he's just a sweet boy who likes keeping you close.

♱ boyfriend!ni-ki who isn't one to get sick often but when he did, you saw how it hit him hard, insisting he was fine even though his messages gets more dramatic by the hour.

niki: i'll rest so i can see my girlfriend right away.

you: yes, do that.

niki: then she can kiss me again.

niki: baby, i think i'm dying.

you'll sigh, shake your head as you read his texts. then he will send you a picture of his thermometer reading 39°C with a caption:

you might as well say your goodbyes.

♱ boyfriend!ni-ki who loves to help you give him handjobs.

the first time it happened is when you and niki were cuddling peacefully, his feverish body was warming both of you.

you felt his shaft harden, pressing insistently on your ass, making cheeks heated as you became very aware of his body's conscious or unconscious reaction to being close to you.

and niki who's oblivious, buried his face deeper into your shoulder with a low groan, mumbling "i don't want you to leave" with his drowsy voice, heavy with sleep but his crotch pressed harder, as if seeking more friction.

you turned to face him, your hand gently combed through his hair while clearing your throat softly. unsure of how to address his hardening length. "niki..." you started hesitantly.

"hmm?" he replied with sluggish tone like he was on the verge of falling asleep but then, as if he finally caught on to your stiffened posture, his grip loosened immediately.

you remembered him sitting up a little. his flushed face brighter than before and not just entirely because of the fever that had been keeping him in bed for days.

"oh my God..."

"i didn't mean for that to happen-"

you bit your lip, unsure whether to laugh at the awkwardness or save him from further embarrassment. "it's... okay."

then your hands travelled from his hair down slowly to his back, fingertips were grazing the dips of his spine as it drifted lower, ghosting over the curve of his ass before wrapping around his stiff length and giving it experimental strokes.

niki gasped, mouth opening and his eyes were fluttering shut, breathing "ahh, shit." while arching into your touch. you continued to pump his shaft, it's twitching while you smear the drops of precum to ease the glide.

he was so hard for you already that it made your own arousal surge. you can feel your pussy throbbing in response.

slowly, niki leaned, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss and he tasted like sleep, medicine, but underneath that, fuck... he was all male heat.

a moan vibrated in his throat as you worked on his cock, his hips were rocking into the tight circle of your fist and you swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss while your free hand roamed the lean muscles of his chest.

niki's hand wrapped around yours, helping you stroke his dick faster. you both looked down at where you were connected, watching his hard dick into your joined fists over and over again.

melting under your touch, niki's hand started fondling the soft fat of your tits, completely at your mercy as you brought him closer to the edge then your eyes met, heavy-lidded and full with lust, he crashed his mouth to yours again.

it's sloppy, all tongue, teeth, and desperation.

niki's breaths grew ragged, his fingers moved and dug into your shoulders and with a firm squeeze to the head of his cock, it urged him over.

niki came with a broken cry of your name. cum spurted over your hands, fingers. painting his stomach, your knuckles, and the bed.

"i love you so much."

♱ boyfriend!ni-ki who likes it when you asks him for anything whether it'll be something simple as helping you carry things or... something like asking him for head.

he will wrap his arms around you after and pull you into a tight hug, asking "it's good, right?"

"s-stop."

he will just laugh and rest his chin on your shoulder.

"god, this is so stupid."

"it's not, okay?" he will say firmly and look into your eyes. "i told you, you can ask me for anything. i mean it."

"we-well…" you'll try to change the subject by asking "do you wanna go downstairs and eat or something?"

"i just ate you."

♱ boyfriend!ni-ki who seems to lose control when it comes to eating and fingering your pussy. he loves your taste, the texture of your sensitive petals, the way you writhe and moan... it's utterly intoxicating. he becomes completely consumed by it and just can't stop pleasing you even after you already came.

your body spasms, your legs started shaking and quivering while your eyes were also already watering from the intensity of your climax that you just might black out from overstimulation, yet niki's unable to pull away from your slick folds.

his tongue continued to lap at your clit, fingering your hole that juices started gushing out the sensitive flesh and niki's just groaning in delight, totally unbothered by your gasps and whimpers.

"niki, wait..." you'll plead breathlessly, trying to push him back. "please..."

niki also knows that you'll get mad at him after and that he might earn a slap on his pretty face but like a man on a mission, his objective right there is to make you cum over and over until you're a mewling mess and going down on you is the only way he knows how to achieve this feat.

niki can feel your pulse against his tongue and it drives him wild. you've already orgasmed multiple times but he thinks you might just have more climaxes inside you and he won't rest until they're spent.

♱ boyfriend!ni-ki who chuckled after hearing you blabber nonsensical words because of the mixture of pain and pleasure that you couldn't quite articulate while having sex with him for the first time. he'll whisper "my poor baby" while peppering soft kisses to your cheeks which is a contrast to the powerful movements of his hips.

♱ boyfriend!ni-ki who always misses you already while you were just sleeping beside him. he tucks your hair behind your ear as he watches you breathe, pouting because he can't talk to you. he'll gently lifts your arms, wrapping them around himself before burying his face into your neck, sighing dramatically like he's suffering.

a/n: i'm back, the cute outline was inspired by a heesung fic i read here but i can't find it anymore TT

please read Nishimura Riki as your classmate

read part-timers!niki x reader

read part-timers!niki x reader part 2

read snitch - reader x niki

read touché - niki x reader

read touché - niki x reader part 2

read exes - niki x reader

[toscapringle]

I have dreams all the time of the people and pets I've lost, it hurts so much, but they're so vivid it feels like they're there. It's a curse but a blessing in disguise to not be able to forget them.

This comic is an ode to grief, really. The joy and completeness grief can bring us when we process it is a reward of life.

Lyra, my beloved cat of 13 years, passed away this year on Father's Day. She's been by my side through very difficult times and was my little rock of steady and unrelenting love. I struggled a lot drawing this, and struggled a lot posting it, but I know I would've wanted to read a comic like this that validated my grief for her when I lost her.

Wherever you are, Lyra my little summer star, I love you always! Thank you for being the best thing in my life.

[tinfoil-jones]

Jerk Ford may not be a massive jerk to his Stan, but he must still push his buttons a little from time to time like healthy siblings do, right? So what does he do to annoy him?

Mabel: Great Uncle Ford?

Jerk Ford: What is it, runt?

Mabel: Grandpa asked me and Dipper once if we could feel what the other one was feeling! Did he ask because you and Grunkle Stan can do that?

Jerk Ford: Ah, yes. Sherman called it a 'Twinstinct'. Before I was in the Nightmare Realm, yes, we could feel each others pain.

Mabel: Really?

Jerk Ford: It did not seem to function while I was outside of this dimension.

Mabel: ...Does it work now that you're back?

Jerk Ford: Hm, I suppose the only way to find out is to approach this with the scientific method. First, I need to gather data.

Jerk Ford: *punches himself in the stomach hard*

*Surprised, angry shout from the kitchen*

Stan: SONUVA-!

Jerk Ford: The data is pointing to a yes.

[navillee]

Zayne is pathetic for you. Making time in his busy schedule, trying to keep a conversation talking about his squirrels friends (I love introverted man and I'm going to die on this hill) and even showing that pathetic needy side when he gets tipsy. He thought it couldn't get any worse. That until the day he tasted you for the first time, when desires from both sides mixed together with sweat and the burning touches melted his frozen fears. That day, by giving his heart on your hands, he became miserable for you. Doesn't matter what kinda of curse he has to face, it doesn't matter how many hours of sleep he loses. It doesn't matter the pain, the hours that doesn't seem to pass or anything like that. He'll sacrifice anything come back home to you, to feel your kisses, to hear your voice and be by your side as your loyal lover. For you, and only you, Zayne accepts being a miserably pathetic man.

[goth-af]

this makes it sound like i’ve suddenly come down with a curse, leaving me unable to lift a spoon to my lips on my own

instead of going with the “can’t do anything” option, could I please be allowed to continue as I am now, hovering between can’t do anything and can, bc

it sounds like there’s only that one option for us cray cray folks. can we maybe add two or three more options than just the one? just to Y’know, make the rest of us feel seen

[synvil]

letting go of their hands // rafe cameron & jj maybank

synopsis : you decide to prank them by letting go of their hands while they drive. tiktok trends series.

rafe cameron (☆´3｀)

it was an often small unconscious detail that rafe always did, acting on instinct whenever you two drove together.

even when he’s in the middle of a phone call that’s connected through bluetooth, he speaks from his car just to be able to hold your hand. plus it’s safer than holding a device, don’t text n drive.

the first time would be when he’s on a call, distracted with talking with barry that he doesn’t notice at first.

you had casually opened your hand and slipped out of his hold, placing it on your lap and looking out the window as he talks on the call. it’s only when rafe instinctively flexes his wrist out of a gesture of annoyance while talking, does he realize and curses.

“what the fuck?—“ he interrupts himself and barry scoffs on the other line. “what’s the problem, country club?”

rafe turns his eyes over to you and furrows his brows, reaching over to grab your wrist and brings it to his side, keeping his gaze maintained on the road. “nothing, just somethin’ stupid.”

hearing his words make you smile a bit in amusement and you wait a little longer.

after a little bit, rafe was no longer on call but you two were just driving to finish up some errands together. he occasionally tightens his grip on you unconsciously as he nods his head lightly to the music, before feeling you pull away again. you barely stifle a laugh when you hear rafe click his tongue.

but then rafe suddenly roughly stomps on the brakes, making you lurch forward a tad and a sharp gasp escapes you. “rafe!”

“we’re not fuckin’ moving until you tell me what the problem is.” rafe grunts, his left hand gripping the steering wheel dangerously tight and you widen your eyes, looking around to see if cars were coming. “r-rafe. you can’t do that, cars are going to come!” even if you were just driving down the local road where hardly any cars came.

but the persistent staring tells you he’s not listening and you huff, reaching for his hand. “sorry-sorry, it was just a joke.”

rafe rolls his eyes as he starts the car moving again. “damn right it was.. don’t do that again.”

with that, he brings your hand up and kisses the back of it gently while you exhale heavily, an inevitable smile curling on your lips.

“so sick of your pranks.. you’re lucky i love you.”

jj maybank (⸝⸝⍢⸝⸝) ෆ

the two of you were on a small trip, taking a nice long drive to enjoy each other’s time and presence, whilst picking up some things for john b.

there was a calm silence between you, the sunset glazing onto your skin, an empty road, the windows partially down for a soft breeze and a gentle noise of the radio in the background.

jj rubs soothing circles onto your hand with his thumb and you almost feel bad to do it but find yourself going through with the prank anyway. you barely manage to pull your fingers away when jj stops singing and looks to you. “what’s the matter?”

“hm?” you feign innocence as you glance to him and he furrows his brows, trying to keep his eyes on the road. “baby, what’s wrong? why did you let go?”

your lips curl into a small smile and you shrug. “i dunno, just felt like it.”

jj gives you a weird look before reaching for your hand and holding it firmly in his. “just keep it here.” he pouts and squeezes your hand comfortingly. you almost feel bad for wanting to do it a second time and after a few minutes, you slowly pull your hand aside.

before you could fully pull your hand to your lap, jj pulls over with a huff and reaches into the side of his door and pulls out a roll of duct tape. “j?-“ he doesn’t respond as he pulls a string of the tape out. “w-wait, jayj-!”

startling you, jj starts to tape your hand together with his before bringing the roll to his teeth to rip it and once it tears, he secures it before using his free hand to pull onto the road again.

feeling satisfied and proud of himself, jj grins triumphantly.

“there. now you can’t let go again.”

a/n : so rushed and unedited but hope you enjoy! <3

[riddlesb1tch]

Claimed by Shadows

Azriel Shadowsinger x reader

summary: Azriel finds out that you are going to be helping your friend Kaelen with a task and he gets a bit...jealous.

warnings: none

"Azriel, wake up!" You shook your boyfriend’s shoulder, trying to rouse him from sleep. You had been at it for the past ten minutes, standing beside his bed, fully dressed and ready for the day, while Azriel hadn't even grazed the hem of consciousness.

Growing impatient, you gave his shoulder a more violent shake, but the stubborn male simply groaned, rolling away from you as if the world beyond his dreams didn’t exist.

You knew he was doing this on purpose. The exaggerated snoring, the way his lips twitched with suppressed amusement—it was all a game to him. Teasing you seemed to be his favorite pastime.

Crossing your arms, you huffed, "Azriel, if you don't wake up, I'm leaving, and you won’t see me the entire weekend!"

That got him moving.

In a blink, Azriel sat up and yanked you down onto the bed, pulling a surprised shriek from your lips. Before you could even register what had happened, you found yourself pinned beneath him, his powerful frame hovering over yours.

"Az!" you gasped, glaring up at him.

He smirked, his golden-brown eyes filled with heat and amusement. His tousled black hair fell over his forehead, his bare chest warm against yours. His lips—plump and pink—parted slightly as he took you in.

"You know," he murmured, voice still husky from sleep, "you look so hot when you're threatening me."

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his words, and you internally cursed yourself for how easily he affected you.

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "How would you know? Your eyes were closed."

Azriel grinned. "Touché." Then, before you could say another word, he leaned down and caught your lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

His thumb stroked your jaw as his hand came up to cup your face, and when you tangled your fingers in his soft hair, pulling him closer, a low groan escaped his throat—sending a thrill straight through you.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and smiling, Azriel pressed one last kiss to your forehead before collapsing onto his back and pulling you to his chest.

You lay there, fingers tracing lazy patterns over his stomach.

"You wanna go to the café later today?" he asked casually, brushing his fingers through your hair.

You lifted your head, meeting his gaze through your lashes. "You know, your efforts in asking me on a date have dropped significantly since we started dating."

Azriel playfully swatted at your shoulder. "Do you, though?"

You sighed. "I can’t. I promised Kaelen I’d help him go through some old potion books to find a cure for the plague in the Autumn Court."

Azriel’s brows immediately furrowed. "When? You didn’t tell me about this before."

"I just did," you replied with a teasing smile, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

Azriel sat up suddenly, facing you, his expression unreadable. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, then closed again.

"Are you okay?" you teased. "Shall I fetch a fishbowl for you, Mr. Shadowsinger?"

Azriel ignored your quip, his jaw tightening. "Why you?"

"Because he asked for my help," you shrugged. "It’s not a big deal, Azzie."

Azriel’s expression darkened. "He obviously has a crush on you, Y/N!"

You blinked, then laughed outright. "That’s ridiculous!"

Azriel did not look amused.

"Y/N, I’ve seen the way he looks at you," he insisted. "During training, after training, every time you’re in the same room—"

"He’s my friend," you interrupted, shaking your head. "And even if he did have a crush on me, I’m not interested, so you have no reason to be jealous."

Azriel exhaled sharply, but his grip around your waist tightened possessively.

"I’m not jealous," he sputtered, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise. "I just don’t want another male eyeing what mine"

You grinned. "Okay, that was kind of cute."

Azriel smirked, but you could still feel the tension in his body.

"Now," you continued, pressing a kiss to his cheek before slipping out of bed, "I’m heading down to breakfast. See you there in a few?"

"Yeah," Azriel muttered, watching you go, still brooding.

Breakfast had come and gone, and Azriel never showed up.

You now sat in the Townhouse with Mor, half-listening to her chatter while your eyes constantly wandered to the door, waiting for your missing Shadowsinger.

Finally, Cassian walked in.

"Hey, Y/N," he greeted.

"Hey," you replied, still watching the door.

Cassian raised a brow. "Looking for someone?"

"Yeah," you sighed. "Did you see Azriel?"

Cassian shook his head, offering an apologetic shrug.

Before you could dwell on it, Kaelen appeared in front of you.

"Hey!" he greeted with a smile. "Still good for the library at one?"

"Yep!" you confirmed.

And then—as if summoned by pure spite—the doors finally opened, and in walked the Shadowsinger.

Your stupidly handsome boyfriend zeroed in on you instantly… and then his gaze darkened when he spotted Kaelen.

Striding over, Azriel dropped into the seat beside you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, kissing your forehead.

"Hey, princess," he murmured. Then, to Kaelen—dryly—"Hey."

Kaelen nodded stiffly, then quickly took his leave.

You turned to Azriel, crossing your arms. "I waited for you for over an hour! Where were you?"

Azriel smirked and pulled a small bag from behind him. "I went to get you this."

You frowned as he held up a blue hoodie with “AZRIEL’S GIRL” embroidered in gold across the front.

"What is that?" you asked incredulously.

"Your outfit," he declared, "for when you’re with Kaelen. So he knows you’re mine."

You groaned. "Azriel, the whole damn Court already knows we’re together!"

"I’d just like to make it extra clear so he can focus his efforts on someone else," he said smugly.

"You’re impossible," you muttered, but a small laugh escaped you.

Azriel leaned in and whispered, "Besides… you look crazy sexy in blue."

Your cheeks flamed, and you shoved him away.

After much persuasion (and lowkey begging from Azriel), you begrudgingly wore the hoodie over your outfit before meeting Kaelen.

"Cool hoodie," he remarked, smirking.

You mumbled a quiet, "Thanks," before diving into your research.

An hour later, as you were packing up, a male dressed in an orange tunic approached Kaelen.

"Hey, babe," the male said, kissing Kaelen’s lips.

Azriel, standing beside you, visibly paled.

Kaelen was—as you had told him—not even remotely interested in you.

Turning to Azriel with a smug grin, you said, "See, Azzie?"

Azriel cleared his throat. "You didn’t say he was gay."

You smirked. "Regardless… you should listen to your girlfriend."

Azriel just groaned.

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝖄ES, ANGEL ᝰ! KATSEYE

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ summary: if each katz (excluding yoonchae) is a tease and how they would react while they’re jealous/how you would react to them being a total brat > lowkey just turned into daniela and lara being jealous lmao

disclaimers: slight!nsfw, making out, harsh language, teasing, fem!reader, suggestive/sexual content (minors/men dni)

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Sophia Laforteza - Brat Tamer

You groaned at the foot of Sophia’s bed, slamming your phone into her duvet. You were beyond bored out of your mind. The Filipina laid just inches away from you, her laptop in her lap and her eyebrows furrowed. Her expression was stern, her eyebrows furrowed. Her focus never once pulled away from the “official Katseye business”, she called it, on her screen.

You mentally cursed her for the outfit she had on; a black pair of glasses and a big grey hoodie. The way she was sitting had the edge of her hoodie risen up just the slightest, leaving her slim figure exposed, and little to the imagination.

“It’s been hours, Fia, am I just chopped liver here, or what?” you whined, “Why did you even call me if you were busy?”

Sophia sighed, taking her glasses off with one hand. “I told you to be patient, baby. This is supposed to be in by tonight, and I’m almost done.” She leant forward slightly, enough to peck you on the temple. “Give me a couple more minutes, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, watching her go back to her laptop.

“But you’ve been working forever, and I only get to see you so many hours a week,” you groaned. When no reaction could be instigated, you grabbed her laptop, slamming it shut and slid it towards the foot of the bed. She clicked her tongue, but before she could protest, you rose a finger to her lips. “Your job is your mistress, Laforteza, and I’m sick of you putting it above me. You’re gonna pay attention to me now, or I’m leaving.”

She stared back at you with curious eyes, her lips gradually moving from a scowl to a smirk when you’d hoist yourself over her lap to straddle her. “Okay, where did this come from?”

You shrugged, wrapping your arms around her neck.

“I’m tired of you putting your work before me… If you paid half the amount of attention you did your work to me, maybe I wouldn’t have to literally pry it out of your hands.” You pouted, running your fingertips up her neck and into her hair. One of your hands drew lines along her jaw, down to her chest. “You love work more than you love me.”

Her face immediately fell, her hand raising to brush your hair from your face. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like that, mahal, but you know it’s not true.”

She wrapped her arm around your waist, and for a second, you really believed you finally had your girlfriend back--until she swiftly pressed you flush against her, your front against hers as she grabbed her laptop. Her chin found the crook of your shoulder, her glasses tipping off her nose as she read off her now lit again screen of her computer. “But I’m sorry, I really do need to finish this, or I’ll get in a lot of shit with Geffen.”

You let out a loud sigh, your body slumping in her arms.

Fine. Guess you were gonna have to do this the hard way.

Sophia hated playing this game, but when she did, she always won. You always loved to test how far you could go before she cracked and gave in, but it always ends with you begging for her instead. Alas, it was your favourite game to play.

The fast, soothing typing from her was the only sound that rung in the room. Slowly, step by step, you began removing items of clothing from Sophia.

First, off came her glasses. You easily removed them from her nose and she didn’t put up much of a fight.

Once her glasses were tucked snugly into her bedside table, you began playing with her hair draped over the hood of her sweatshirt. Sophia was very good at concentration, and like you’ve mentioned, she was very good at this game. She didn’t give in easy, not even when she knows what you’re trying to do. Your greedy hands grabbed at the hem of her hoodie, tugging them upwards as she continued typing through you.

“You’re really gonna do this?” she questioned, her voice low and demanding, “I’m warning you, mahal, this won’t end well.”

You were just more encouraged by the nickname.

“I’m not doing anything,” you smirked, “It’s getting warm in here, I’m helping you get cool.”

She scoffed in amusement, eyeing you with those beckoning eyes of hers. When you wouldn’t look away, challenging her, she turned back to her computer. “Okay, then. Let’s play.”

She let you strip her off her hoodie, but didn’t entertain your hands travelling up and down her back. You were growing impatient, grabbing at the straps of the tank she was wearing.

“Fuck, how’re you still working right now?”

She laughed at your evident frustration, her hands hovering over her keys. “I warned you, mahal. You always try and do this, but end up losing really bitterly. You still tryna play?”

You were determined to get her to abandon that damn laptop.

“Yes,” you grunted, adjusting yourself over her lap to shield her eyes away from the screen. “You’re an asshole, y’know that?”

“Mmh, really?” Sophia hummed, “You always try and play this game, but you never win, baby. Are you really that desperate?”

When she refused to let you strip her down anymore further, you adjusted yourself so she couldn’t see the screen anymore. “Fine, Fia, you win. Are you done now?”

She scoffed, closing her laptop and setting it on her bedside table. Finally, her eyes laid on you, her hands gripping your hips so you wouldn’t move around in her lap. “Oh, I’ve been done for a while. I was just tryna see how long you’d last.”

You rolled your eyes, stripping out of your own top.

“I hate you,” you murmured, “You’re the worst person ever.”

“Oh, yeah?” she smirked, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your lips. One on your lips, one against your jaw, one on your collarbone. You let out a soft sigh. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that after I’m done with you.”

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Manon Bannerman - Brat Tamer/The Brat

Manon is a true tease. She will get you all hot and bothered with those cursed eyes of hers. Today, she invited you to the girls’ dance practice. She felt bad for cancelling plans for last minute rehearsal for their opening show in the Philippines in a week, so, with the approval of their team, you were welcomed to sit in on the last ten minutes.

Now, sitting across the practice room as the girls moved their way to Touch, you could sense the looks Manon were throwing your way. She was a show-off, giving 110% of herself into the choreography. Throwing smirks and winks your way.

By the end of practice, you were ready to jump her bones, right then and there in the middle of the room.

Manon bid their choreographer goodbye, grabbing her things from the corner of the room and quickly dismissing herself.

You were standing beside one of the staff members, but whatever he was talking about going in one ear and out the other. You watched as Manon swayed her way over to you, innocent smile spread across her lips.

She leant in, greeting you with a quick peck. “Hello, my love.”

You didn’t reply, biting back whatever venom you had building in your throat. For a moment, when her hand came in contact with your waist, you almost let out a lewd noise.

“Hey, y/n!” Lara called, the other girls approached you.

You managed a quick greeting, paired with a smile. You were hoping Manon would make up some excuse so the two of you could just leave and get some time alone, but when you looked over at her, she only gave you a knowing smirk.

“We’re having dinner at the dorm tomorrow night, Sophia’s cooking. My sister’s coming, I know some of Dani’s friends are coming if you wanna join!” Lara invited, earning a couple hums of agreement from the others.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” you replied, watching Lara’s expression turn awry when you shuddered slightly at Manon’s cool hand slipping up your shirt and caressing your back.

“y/n, are you okay?” Yoonchae asked, concern evident.

Manon chuckled, “Yeah, honey, you okay?”

You felt her fingers reach down, slipping past the waistband of your pants. You gulped, “I’m fine. It’s--just been a long day.”

“Okay… anyway, bring soda if you can, Sophia won’t let us do sugary drinks.” Daniela leant in to whisper, only to earn a hard hit to the head from the leader. “Ow! I didn’t say anything!”

“I heard that,” Sophia scolded, “No soda, y/n.”

You nodded, pressing your lips together to keep yourself composed. Manon could go all day if she could, but she was really hoping to relax a little… with your help.

“Okay, I’ll see you guys at home.” she announced.

You followed her outside to her car. Once you slid into the passenger seat, she shut the door and started the engine.

"Are you insane? That was so close, I was so sure we were gonna traumatize Yoonchae or something,” you scolded, leaning over to nudge her shoulder. “Jesus Christ, Manz, I know we haven’t seen each other in a bit, but you can at least keep it in your pants until we’re alone.”

“Like we are right now?” Manon glanced at you, her eyes narrowing. She leant over, stealing a kiss from you. She chuckled when you leant in further for another, pulling back with a smirk. “Can you blame me? I finally get you in my hands and you think I’ll wait? Do you even know me?”

"Oh my God, how are you an adult?" You scoffed, but the teasing glint in your eye gave you away. "You truly have the sex drive of a sixteen year old boy."

Manon laughed, her eyes softening as she glanced at you again. "You want sex drive? I can give you sex drive." She shifted in her seat, and before you could even process what was happening, she leaned over and kissed you quickly, just enough to leave you breathless.

You blinked, momentarily stunned, before shaking your head. "That’s not what I meant, we’re still in the parking lot.”

She pulled back slightly, grinning. "And that stops me, how?”

"You’re such a tease," you scoffed, still smiling. "I’m surprised you’re controlling yourself so well right now."

Manon gasped, slamming a fist against her chest dramatically. "You don’t know how much this guts me, to not be able to fuck you in the middle of my work parking lot right now."

You couldn't help but laugh at the idea, even if the thought of her dancing just for you had your heart racing a little.

"Drive, Manz, we’ll test that teenage boy sex drive of yours.”

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Daniela Avanzini - The Brat

Daniela is a jealous, jealous, jealous girl. She cannot stand, even the thought of you getting close with anybody without her there to supervise you.

The last time you laughed around your friend, Heeseung a little too hard at dinner, you woke up the next morning with every inch of your skin aching with bruises spelling out Daniela’s name, whom slept soundly with her arms and legs wrapped around your body. Though, she was also the Queen of double standards, because she loves flirting with anybody--and everybody--in her line of vision when she’s in need of attention.

Today, you came to pick her up from a schedule, because you thought, “it’s not everyday I get to see my girlfriend, it would be a nice little surprise for her”.

But oh, no. You just had to start chatting with the new guy.

Luke was the new security guard standing at the front desk. He was a tall, clean-cut guy with the most innocent features. He carried a bright smile for whomever passed his doors, and you were no exception. When you registered yourself a guest, he begun stirring a conversation about Katseye.

He asked you about Daniela, and when you began talking, you just couldn’t stop.

Unfortunately, that’s what Daniela saw too. When the elevator doors opened, the last thing she expected was to see you. For a moment, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of your familiar head of hair. You were standing in all your glory, the light at the end of a long tunnel of media schedules.

But her heart sunk when she heard your heavenly laugh.

Just as Luke started talking about some new shift schedules, you saw Daniela striding toward you. There was an instant shift in her posture when she saw you and Luke talking. Her smile, usually so warm, turned into something more neutral, and you could tell she wasn’t entirely comfortable.

“Hey, honey,” you greeted her, but she didn’t quite meet your eyes, her attention on Luke instead.

“Hey,” she responded, a little more curt than usual, before offering a tight smile in his direction. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Luke said, flashing a grin at her. “Looking great as always, Dani.”

Her expression flickered for a moment, her lips tight, but she didn’t say anything back. It felt like the air in the room shifted, and you felt an odd tension building between the three of you. You tried to ease the situation.

“Well, we should get going,” you said quickly, wanting to break up the awkwardness. “I got us dinner reservations.”

But Daniela didn’t move, her eyes flicking between you and Luke for a second before she reached over and took your wrist firmly, pulling you toward the hallway. You raised an eyebrow, surprised by her sudden change in demeanor, but she didn’t give you a chance to ask anything.

The two of you quickly found your way into the nearest bathroom. Once the door clicked shut behind you, Daniela turned to face you, her jaw tight, her lips pressed together in a way that made your stomach tighten with nerves.

“Hey, what’s going on?” you asked, worried you’d done something wrong.

She didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she moved closer, her hands settling on your arms as she looked you in the eye. You could see the frustration in her gaze, and the way she took a deep breath before speaking made your heart race.

“I don’t like it,” she muttered, her voice low but serious.

“Don’t like what?” you asked, feeling confused.

Her grip tightened slightly, her voice soft but firm. “Luke. He’s always checking you out. I don’t like it.”

You blinked, processing her words. “Dani, he wasn’t checking me out, we were just talking. He was just trying to make conversation. There’s nothing to worry about.”

She seemed to struggle for a moment, her face softening a bit, but there was still a trace of jealousy in her eyes. “Yeah, well, if you get to eye fuck Luke, maybe I should find someone too.”

You reached up, cupping her face gently with both hands, trying to calm her down. “What? What the fuck?”

For a moment, she just looked at you, her expression conflicted. Then, she exhaled, clearly trying to calm herself. “I’m saying, what about I go have a chat with Justin, huh?”

Justin was a young intern on Katseye’s team. It was obvious to anyone with eyes he had a fat crush on Daniela. You’ve had a conversation with her about it, and she assured you there was absolutely nothing to worry about with Justin.

You stepped closer to her, grabbing the back of her neck with a hand, her waist with the other. Your lips locked in a fast, hot kiss. She pulled away, catching her breath. “Wanna say that again, Avanzini?”

She toyed with your hair, and she smirked.

You were exactly where she wanted you to be.

“Why don’t you go ask Luke, I think I have Justin’s number in my phone…” When she goes to grab her phone from her pocket, you grabbed her wrist, slinging it around your neck. Your grabbed her hips, propping her onto the counter.

“Get his number off your phone right now.” you demanded.

“Why, you don’t like ‘Luke the security guard’ anymore?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. She turned her head to look away, but you grabbed her cheeks gently, turning her back to you.

“No, he’s out of my mind. And by the time we leave here, Justin will be out of yours.”

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Lara Raj - Brat Tamer

Lara was a very accepting, easy-going girlfriend. She didn’t care if you went out clubbing with a bunch of guys who were obviously into you, or get jealous when the barista at your local cafe kept writing her number on your coffee. But if there was one thing Lara did not tolerate was you talking to your ex.

A complete stranger flirting with you? Whatever, it’s not that big a deal. This person who’s seen you butt naked before her? Absolutely not, she’s launching every nuclear missile she can.

You and Minji didn’t date long, it was more of a high-school sweetheart kinda relationship.

When Minji graduated a year before you, the two of you kinda broke it off. And by kinda, I mean she promised she would come back and marry you one day when she’s earned enough to take you around the world, so--yeah, it was safe to say Minji was not over you, even now, years after the two of you had called it quiets peacefully.

Even at the mention of her name had Lara boiling with anger.

She absolutely hated how obsessed with you Minji was--and still is. She wouldn’t even care this much if she wanted you physically, if she just missed hooking up with you, but this was love we were talking about. Feelings. Lara hated feelings, especially when they were from another woman for her girl.

You promised Lara one day you would meet her at home, just going out to grab a quick coffee after your morning jog. She hadn’t woken up yet, and you wanted to get your run out of the way so you could spend the day with her.

Once you placed your order, and once again turned down the barista’s persistent advances, you waited for your name.

“I see you’re still a screenager,” a voice pointed out softly in front of you, your head shot up to see Minji’s familiar features. She had a small smile on, “I was hoping I’d run into you here.”

You scoffed, immediately accepting her invitation for a hug.

“Oh my God, you’re back in town! Last time I saw you, you were off in Korea getting famous,” you beamed, “I can’t believe you’re here, and you didn’t call me!”

Oh, did I mention the two of you were best friends first?

“Yeah, well, I was hoping to surprise you. I’m off on break, and my sister really wanted to come to Cali, so here I am.” Her hands slid into the pockets of her jeans. “Since you’re here already, would you like to join me for a coffee? Are scones still your favourite breakfast pastry? I’ll get you one.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head.

“I’d love to, but… my girlfriend’s waiting at home.”

Your name was called before she could answer, you thanked the runner, grabbing the two cups of coffee from her. You held them up for Minji to see, “I’m surprising her with her fav.”

She nodded, gulping. “Girlfriend? Cool… what’s her name?”

“Lara. She’s super busy, so I don’t get her alone most of the time--I’d love to catch up some other time this week though, how long are you staying for?” You almost felt bad when you noticed the slight falter in her expression. It was like kicking a little puppy. But you were really exited to see your girlfriend.

Little did you know, said girlfriend was awake and wanting to surprise you as well. She was hoping she would go in and out of the cafe and have you come home to breakfast.

But to be greeted by the sight of you talking to, none other than, the legendary Kim Minji.

Two cups of coffee in your hands, smiling and talking with Minji. You were hunched over her phone, held out so you could read her calendar. She watched as Minji’s eyes turned from her phone to your cheek, inches away from hers.

Oh, Lara was ready to blow the place up.

“Great, you’ll text me this time then?” you joked, earning a light chuckle from Minji. She hummed, “Yeah, I will.”

A hand palmed the small of your back, a taller figure looming over your shoulder. You looked down, seeing familiar rings on a hand you would only assume to be your girlfriend’s. Your body relaxed, tense shoulders easing upon looking up to see Lara.

“Oh, hey, baby, I didn’t know you’d be awake.”

She kissed your forehead, ignoring your statement. Her eyes focused solely on the woman standing inches away from you. Minji swallowed thickly, intimidated by the woman’s dark aesthetic. The eyes, it was always the eyes. If two people were to look at the both of them, they would never be able to tell you dated both these women.

“You must be Lara then,” Minji said, clearing her throat. “y/n was just telling me about you. I’m Kim Minji.”

You smiled at the Korean’s polite introduction. You looked up at the Indian singer, whose jaw tightened, her eyes dull and judgemental. Your smile slowly faded at the rising tension as neither of them spoke, before Lara broke the silence.

“The Kim Minji you dated?”

You swatted her arm, “Lara--!”

“Actually, Minji, I appreciate you being so nice to my girlfriend, but I don’t think she’ll be able to make it this week,” Lara threw her a smirk, “She’ll be too busy hanging out with me. Have a good time in LA though, it’s a very nice city.”

As she ushered you out the cafe, you threw Minji a quick mouthed apology before gesturing for her to text you.

The gesture didn’t escape Lara’s hawk eyes.

“Really? ‘Oh, Minji, your phone is so far away, let me lean in and look at it closer’, ‘Oh, Minji, I’m sorry my girlfriend doesn’t like you, you’re still giving me heart eyes like you’re about to get on one knee in the middle of this shitty cafe’.”

“Hey!” you barked, “You love that cafe.”

“Who cares about the stupid cafe, you were flirting with your ex--who should go back to Korea ‘cuz I don’t want her here.” Lara snarled, looking past your shoulder through the windows of the cafe outside to see Minji trying her best to avoid either of your gazes.

“Okay, first off, that sounded like there were hella racial undertones,” you pointed out, crossing your arms, “Second of all, I was not flirting with Minji, we ran into each other while I was trying to grab you coffee--mind you, exactly the way I know you like it before I got ambushed by you being rude to the poor girl. Seriously, if I was flirting, you’d know, Lara, ‘cuz she’d be on her knees already.”

The older’s face grimaced at the statement.

“Oh, yeah? You think you’re that irresistible?” she scoffed, her tongue sticking against her inner-cheek.

“You sure think Minji thinks so,” you teased, “So why don’t I go in there and prove you right?”

Just as you were about to re-enter the cafe, Lara grabbed you and spun you so she’d stand in between you and the door. “Absolutely the fuck not, you’re not seeing this woman under any circumstances, you hear me?”

“Why is that, Raja, think you’ll lose to Minji?” you taunted.

Taken aback, Lara grew silent with widened eyes. She never pegged you for the lippy type. You were always much more lax with things, and it was something she admired greatly about you. The new side of you was foreign, but not unwelcome.

“Really?” she scoffed, amused at your sassy attitude.

“Really,” you nodded. “Shall we go, or not?”

“Okay, baby, why don’t we go get some real breakfast?” she smirked, and before you knew it you were speeding home in her black BMW. She got a real good munch is all I have to say.

˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆౨ৎ Megan Skiendiel - The Brat

Megan was the most bizarre human being you have ever met--and you absolutely loved the fact you never got bored around her. You could tell at the very beginning of your relationship, she was trying hard to be “normal” so she wouldn’t scare you off, but she would then find out you were, if not worse, just as bad as her at being nonchalant.

She tries not to show when something bothers her, but it’s usually so obvious she’s trying to hide something that you notice immediately. She had zero poker face.

So when you had to go off and do whatever it is you had to do with your busy schedule, especially on a rare day off for her, she was evidently down. Her texts were growing shorter and more melancholy, and as bad as it made you feel for not being able to just lay in bed at home with her, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at her puppy persona.

meggerz <3 Okay then

meggerz <3 Text me when you’re otw home

meggerz <3 I miss you pretty

Eventually, you had to avert your attention back on your work before you sidetracked too far. But the consistent buzzing of your phone kept pulling your gaze towards the screen.

meggerz <3 I miss youuuuuuuu

meggerz <3 The bed feels so empty rn

meggerz <3 Please just come home

meggerz <3 If I called them and told them there was a bomb hidden somewhere in the building will you get sent home?

meggerz <3 Ignoring me is crazy work

meggerz <3 Ugh need my sexy hot gf right abt now

Your fingers hovered over the keys, typing and deleting responses in an attempt to steer her into a quiet zone. But no, that wasn’t her style. She wasn’t the type to settle for a simple conversation, and you knew that.

meggerz <3 What are you working on?

meggerz <3 How is it more important than me :((

meggerz <3 Please pretty? I miss you…

You groaned, pulling a hand through your hair. You wished you could shut your phone off, but you also didn’t want to hurt her feelings. You knew your girlfriend just needed some love.

You bit your lip, glancing at your work. You really should finish this last report, but her message made your chest tighten. You missed her, too. You were practically aching for her touch, her presence. A small part of you wished you could be done with work already, but you still had to finish.

But come on, did you really think it was about to be simple?

But your phone kept ringing, and each ping of the texts dug into your concentration, chilling away at it like Michelangelo to marble. After an eternity of distractions, you finally hit send on the last report. The moment it was out of the way, you let out a breath of relief and immediately grabbed your things.

You couldn’t wait to get home. You couldn’t wait to see her.

When you walked through the door, you found her sprawled on the couch, her eyes glued to her phone. She looked up and grinned when she saw you, but there was a softness in her expression too, like she had been waiting for this moment all day. You smiled, feeling your heart race as you knelt beside her. Her eyes curved, but you could tell she was tired. You’d barely sat down before you scooped her up, pulling her into your lap.

“Baby, you’ve been texting me all day,” you murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “What do you need?”

She sighed dramatically, nestling into your chest. “I just missed you,” she mumbled, voice thick with longing.

You kissed her forehead, rubbing her back softly, and soon, the chaos of the day began to melt away. “Okay, you have me, ma’am. Wanna go take a bath and get some Thai?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around you. “That sounds like exactly what could make up for your stupid work.”

౨ৎ author’s note: lowkey might make the lara one a full blown two-part fic cuz i just got inspired but idk…

[vinocean22]

20 Things Spanking Fetishists Have in Common

Sweet Tea

Spankos are soulmates. The fetish hardwires our hearts and minds in remarkably consistent ways that aren’t usually apparent to others, so it’s always a bit magical when we chat. “Holy shit, you get me.” I still find it shocking how much we have in common. Can you relate to this list?

1. We’ve been like this for a very long time.

“I’m a lifelong spanko.” This is common in our community and not all that surprising, as most fetishes are formed during childhood. The vast majority of spankos I’ve met have either been this way for as long as they can remember, or can pinpoint a specific age in childhood when they became preoccupied with thoughts of the act. I can’t personally remember any point in my life when spanking didn’t fascinate me and captivate my attention.

2. It’s not a choice.

For many people, spanking is a kink. They enjoy it and find it sexy, but don’t necessarily consider it a requirement for a good time. For those with the fetish, however, spanking is a need rather than an option. Some of us can appreciate and enjoy other BDSM-related activities like bondage or wax play or needles, but spanking is central to our sexuality. This thing lies at the core of our soul and we couldn’t get rid of it if we tried.

We looked up the word ‘spanking’ in the dictionary as kids, not once but multiple times. This also applied to related words like ‘paddle’, ‘switch’, ‘flog’, ‘discipline’, or ‘punish’. We knew their meanings, of course, but the act of reading the definitions was exciting—arousing, even—though we may have been too young to conceptualize the feeling as sexual. If we studied a foreign language, we sat in class and wondered in the back of our minds, “But what’s the word for ‘spanking’?”

(Is this common with other fetishes? Did foot fetishists look up the words ‘foot’, ‘high heel’, ‘stocking’, etc. at the library, bashfully looking around to make sure no one else would notice? I wonder…)

4. We have, uhhh, ‘issues’ with being around it.

Non-spankos can talk about spanking like it’s nothing, but that’s not the case for people with a fetish for it. We may turn bright red when the topic comes up in conversation or feel the need to leave the room when spankings happen in movies or TV shows. For some, this is because the idea triggers intense arousal, even more so than if straight-up intercourse were playing onscreen. For others, it’s simply too intimate and embarrassing to think about unless we’re by ourselves or discussing it in the context of a sexual encounter. When I was a kid and friends publicly proclaimed, “My mom spanked me yesterday!” I felt absolutely mortified. “How can anyone talk about THAT so casually?”

5. We think about it a looooooot.

Some researcher folks have claimed we all think about sex an average of 18-35 times a day. The fetishists I know think about spanking at least this often if not more, frequently daydreaming about the smacking of butts. A fetish is, by definition, a meticulous obsession. We live and breathe it, and never run out of things to say when chatting with other spankos. We want to meet people like us and TALK about it in detail, even if we never end up playing together. It’s our favorite means of connection.

6. Our fetish has caused us hardship.

“Do you feel like your fetish is a curse?” I’ve seen this asked quite a bit on spanko forums. Most of us had to navigate a number of challenges while growing up with this thing. We felt shame, embarrassment, and isolation after realizing how different we were, and may have worried we were crazy. Our relationships with non-spankos have likely been riddled with intimacy problems because we can’t relate to each other sexually. No matter how kinky or open-minded our partners are, they’re unlikely to understand us unless they have the fetish too. As a result, many spankos become pickier over time, ultimately refusing to date those outside of their orientation. “I’d rather be single than with someone I can’t share this with.” Until we find our people, it’s a lonely world.

7. Spanking takes priority over sex.

Every spanko I’ve ever met has put spanking at the forefront of the itinerary. It’s satisfying in its own right for a lot of folks, whether or not other sexy stuff occurs before or afterward. Some spankos identify as asexual, eschewing intercourse entirely because it doesn’t interest them in the same way discipline does. Others are extremely sexual people who focus on spanking as the main course or frequently indulge as an extended form of foreplay. This is an example of why we might experience difficulty finding balance with non-spanko partners. By the time they’re ready to move onto something else, we’re just getting in the zone.

8. It’s on our mind when we orgasm.

One of the first times I had sex with another spanko, I was blown away by the level of telepathy between us. I closed my eyes and fantasized as he licked my clit. He suddenly paused and smiled. “You’re thinking about having your pants pulled down, aren’t you?” I mean fuck, of course I was, but how did he know?! With a bit more experience in the community, I realized many if not all spankos think about it while they’re getting off. The moment thoughts of discipline enter my mind I’m aroused, but I cool off just as quickly if my focus is drawn elsewhere. If I didn’t think about spanking, I’m not sure I’d ever climax.

9. Most of us have tried switching at least once.

Some spankos like to give and receive in equal share, but many have a preference toward being spanker or spankee. I’ve noticed, though, that even the most stubborn of us who proclaim, “I don’t switch!” have tried a taste of the other side out of curiosity at some point. It makes sense to want to learn all angles of the equation. I’m in favor of the idea that everyone benefits from switching. Understanding what our partners experience makes us all better lovers.

10. We want spankings to feel as ‘real’ as possible.

Often, spankees want to cry. We want to be held down and ‘made’ to take it until our spanker is done, no matter what we say or do. This makes the experience feel more real, as if we’re truly being punished by an authority figure and have no choice in the matter. Once trust has been established, some spankees will afford their partners blanket consent and opt not to use safewords. (I don’t recommend this route with anyone you wouldn’t trust with your life. There are oodles of legitimately fucked up people out there masking their abusive tendencies as BDSM. Vet your spankers well, ladies and gents.) This all exists to enhance the pleasure of the fantasy, but isn’t an invitation to violate limits. We want our spankers to be perceptive, taking us just far enough to inspire tears and provide release, but not so far as to genuinely break or traumatize us. Finding this balance is an art form that requires empathy, intelligence, communication, and skill.

11. We all have our preferences.

What implements do you like? What are your favorite positions? What kinds of spankings are your favorite to give? Bruises or no bruises? How long do you like to go for? What kinds of behavior would earn a spanking from you? These are the sexy deets we discuss when we chat, and our answers say a lot about our personalities. It’s rare for a spanko not to have feelings about such things. More often than not, we have specific reasons for liking what we like.

12. We enjoy associated activities.

To state the obvious: spankos love butts. LOOOOOOOOVE them. Naturally, we tend to enjoy other ass-focused activities in conjunction with spanking, like anal play, doggy-style sex, enemas, thermometers, and between-the-cheeks ‘inspections’. Many of us also dig other punishment-related activities traditionally associated with spanking, like corner time or writing lines. “I will not behave like such a sassy little brat. I will not behave like such a sassy little brat…”

13. For us, spanking is its own category.

I’ve noticed a desire in the spanko community to distinguish what we like from the greater umbrella of BDSM. Clearly, spanking incorporates elements of discipline, D/s, and sadomasochism. However, what most of us mean when we mention our fetish is far more specific. We’re not talking whips, dungeons, or shibari. We’re talking traditional, domestic bare-bottom OTK punishment with hands, paddles, belts, wooden spoons, bath brushes, and other goodies found in the home. It’s a comforting, parental, for-your-own-good type of vibe wherein we call our partners Mommy, Daddy, or other titles that convey nurturing familiarity. Very different than, say, having a cold ‘master-slave’ dynamic in a relationship, which tends to be a bit too much for our taste.

14. We love every stage of the process.

A non-spanko might solely imagine the physical slapping of cheeks when we refer to our love of spanking, but that's not the long and short of the matter. Spankos adore the entire arc of the narrative. The misbehavior that led to the spanking. The threats and anticipation. Getting into position. The warm-up and removal of each layer of clothing, all the way until the spankee’s bottom is bared. The swats, first with hands, then a variety of implements. The communication surrounding lecturing and admonishment. The catharsis of tears. The slow tenderness and beauty of aftercare. The closeness the ritual inspires. The intimate drama of this entire process is deeply satisfying.

15. We distinguish between different kinds of spankings.

What is the purpose of the spanking being given? Punishment? Maintenance? Stress relief? Eroticism? This detail is important to us, for it influences the style in which the spanker spanks. Sexual spankings often involve caressing of nether-regions and start off somewhat softly, building in strength at a comfortable pace throughout a drawn-out warm-up period. Punishment spankings embody an entirely different space. They are meant to be intense, painful, and challenging to endure.

16. We watch a lot of the same porn.

My closest spanko friends and I send each other links to videos every so often. “Have you seen this one?” A lot of the time the answer is yes, for we’re drawn to the same spankers, spankees, and couples who create our favorite content. Spanking vids with a glitzier, more porny atmosphere tend to be lower on the ladder than amateur, traditionally domestic ones. Again, we want it all to feel as real as possible. The “we shot this at home while punishing actual misbehavior” setup provides more satisfaction.

17. We don’t usually watch our porn with non-spankos.

Back when I used to date vanilla and guys would ask, “What kind of porn do you watch?” I would lie and pretend porn wasn’t my thing. This is because I knew that what I watch would likely bore them. A clip with fifteen straight minutes of nothing but spanking, sans sex, would likely make a lot of people’s eyes roll back into their sockets. “So monotonous!” Once I started dating spankos, however, I found much joy in sharing, knowing we could relish each and every moment together.

18. We all want a house out in the boonies.

Ask a spanko about their goals for the future and many will answer, “I want to buy land.” This is because our activity of choice is LOUD and has the potential to disturb nearby neighbors. Nothing ruins a good time like a visit from the fuzz. The begging, screaming, and crying… they are cleansing to our souls and we wish to do them freely. It’s countryside living for us, boy howdy.

19. We’re very romantic people.

It comes as no surprise that many spankos are traditionalists. We often relish old-timey acts of devotion like marriage, opening doors, buying flowers, and cooking for our partners. Many are monogamous and like to wait to have sex until deep bonds of commitment are set in stone. Spanking is an extension of this attitude toward intimacy. We’re so deeply devoted to our partners that we refuse to turn our backs on their misbehavior, laziness, procrastination, or feelings of guilt. Instead we stay, face them, and do what must be done to help them deal with their problems, following up with plenty of aftercare involving sweetness and reassurance. Squeeee.

20. We speak the same love language.

For partners with a consensual domestic discipline dynamic, spanking is an act of love. It’s an intimate ritual centering on a potent giving and receiving of attention. A means of setting aside time to converse and communicate about the challenges of relationships and everyday affairs. A tool for strengthening the bond and balancing the energy between spanker and spankee. A way of helping one another feel “right” and “natural” in a world that so often feels like it’s tumbling off its axis. In nonconsensual or manipulative contexts, spanking is abuse. Between those of us who crave it from one other, it’s the highest form of affection.

Granted, these are solely my thoughts based on my own observations and experiences.

Anything to add, spankos?

Reach out, I'd love to hear you : https://www.the-rose-moon.com/post/20-things-spanking-fetishists-have-in-common

[willhaart]

"I feel like I'm either very unlucky or cursed. And I don't believe in luck."