#it’s an honor ma’am :’)

[dailythistle]

Huh. Why have I been getting so many notes in the last hour, what-

YOU CAN’T KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS

[nerves-nebula]

Oh so is that why 99% of my reblogs have been this post

[chaseisglitched]

out of Jackie and Aylin you’d probably think Aylin is the normal one but she literally broke into Jackie’s apartment

[grilledsquids]

I was literally just minding my own business and then I finally listened to Good Luck, Babe! in its entirety and I have not been the same. It’s been a month. What the fuck man, Chappell has me in a chokehold with that voice and those lyrics and just everything in that song holy shit gaddamn

[age-of-moonknight]

“Memory of a Killer,” Moon Knight: City of the Dead (Vol. 1/2023), #1.

Writer: David Pepose; Penciler: Marcelo Ferreira; Inker: Jay Leisten; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[tonycries]

The Initiation - G.S.

Synopsis. From now onwards, you’re the madam of the Gojo clan - and your clan leader husband is going to prove it to everyone.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, EXHIBÍTIONÍSM, initiations, aphrodísiacs, wedding nights, oraI (fem + male), face-sítting, p talking, BRÉEDING, creampíes, matíng presses, first times (Gojo), use of “my wife” and “ma’am”, spítting, cúmplay, MARATHON S, overstím, Gojo is FÉRAL (and slightly ínsane), the elders are awful, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.0k

A/N. This was NOT supposed to be this long but yk what I’m not mad.

“I vow to love. I vow to heal. I vow to stand by my wife with a respect not deserved of even myself.” Every single elder at the shrine shivers when their clan leader’s blazing gaze narrows. Gojo Satoru. Death, himself, in his hauntingly beautiful form. “And I vow that everyone here - everyone - will know that.”

---

“A-an initiation?”

The sweet older women surrounding you don’t look even the tiniest ounce as confused as you feel right about now. They hum a low tune, bustling around you in a whirlwind of hands that tug and pull at your decadent robes. 

“Ah, it’s just a long-held Gojo tradition, madam-” Madam - the word seemed so strange still. “-and the young master will make sure to take good care of you.”

“But-”

“Very good care.”

Maybe it was the way the fussing crowd around you burst into titters, maybe it was the way your silky yukata was left ever-so-slightly open - in a way you were sure the elders would cry scandal at. But, somehow, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something different to this clan initiation.

Something more. 

And it’s something that plagues your mind over and over even by the time your make-up is finally perfected, and your reception robes brushed down for non-existent dust. 

“Beautiful.” your attendants breathe, gracing you with a synchronized bow so low that it almost looked painful. And with a few more appreciative nods, they’re guiding you out of the sweetly-perfumed dressing room, wordlessly leading you into the uproarious traditional meeting hall. 

“You’re not following?” you turn to ask, once you had almost one foot stepped cautiously into the room. 

At this, the woman stood at the very middle of your entourage flushes. A bright, blinding red that matches the way her lips sputter helplessly, “I- I’m honored, madam. But this is er- as far as I can go.”

Strange. 

And with that, the sliding mahogany doors shut. 

Despite what you may think about the council of elders, you had to begrudgingly admit that they’d decorated the chamber lavishly. Fit for a king - or, more likely, fit for the new leaders of the household, after your marriage today.

Dimly-lit with lanterns, and already heady with the smell of expensive sake, your eyes dart around the seated upon seated of clan leaders, elders, and prominent officials you couldn’t even name. All positioned around a long table encircling a strangely raised platform in the middle - as if a stage - it seemed that everyone and anyone was here to assess the new Madam of the Gojo household.

To watch. To wait. 

And at the head of it all - your husband.

Gojo Satoru was known by none to be a soft man, not even by those foolish enough to claim themselves close to him. More accurately fabled as the most vicious young clan leader in history; an angel of death that you’d be lucky to so much as even snatch a glimpse of before you never can once more. 

Yet, the way he beams once his summer blue eyes lock on yours made him seem like anything but. 

“Ah- my wife. My wife is here.” Gojo’s deep baritone sounded so reverent - out-of-breath, like he’d been whispering those very words to himself like a mantra all night. In the middle of it all, you hadn’t even noticed the way the hall had quieted deafeningly - not until his words echo throughout your ears. Rich blue yukata rippling when he’s patting softly at his chair, and you notice with a jolt that there’s no seat next to him. 

Damn elders. 

“Hah? Elder Tanaka really did it!”

“You know I never wanted the riffraff to sit at the table- not a place for-”

“Well what else? A madam should be as a madam is.”

You’re gritting your teeth, making determined strides past all the withering stares and hushed whispers. Stepping closer and closer up to your shifting husband-

“Take-”

And then you sit. 

Plopping yourself down unceremoniously onto the clan leader’s lap - from behind you, you’re hearing Gojo suck in a feverish breath. Panting. You’re washed over with his piney, syrupy sweet scent when his strong forearms immediately wrap around your waist to steady yourself comfortably onto his large, manspread lap. 

And in front of you, you stare defiantly back into every wizened snarl shot your way. If looks could kill, then this would be a massacre. 

It takes him a few gulps to regain his senses - hell, it takes you a few more. And Gojo was so warm, practically burning when he whispers in a rasping voice against your ear, “I was going to tell you to take my seat but…whatever my wife wants, hm?”

“The look on their faces,” you try to hold back what would be deemed an utterly unlady-like smirk. Back pressing up against every hardened curve and ridge down Gojo’s washboard abs through his clothes. “But, I-I’m sorry if-”

His arms around you tighten. “Why would you ever be sorry?”

CLAP! CLAP!

“The reception shall now commence.”

Perhaps it was to stop your quiet muttering, but soon enough your vision is promptly being filled with delicacies that make your mouth water. 

“I would advise you not to drink the sake, pretty.” Gojo waves off an attendant that offers another chair, starting to sift around the steaming contents of his own plate. And despite how you seemed to be the main scrutiny tonight, you let him feed you tiny bites, anyway - all for the haughty council to scoff at. Their master being so happily used by his wife “Seems we’ve been gifted with something special to drink for the initiation tonight.”

Something about his tone was strained. It makes you bat your lashes up at him in a way that has Gojo adjusting his lower robes with a gulp. “Something special? Is it poisoned?”

He chuckles out, “No- even worse-” Lowering. And you jolt when his gleamingly sharp canines sink into your earlobe. Dangerous. “-one sip of that for both of us and I’ll be showing this scum here exactly how you’re mine.”

Oh.

Oh. 

Shit, your spine sits ramrod straight at that purring little undercurrent in his tone - the implications. And just that slight jostle of your hips makes Gojo urgently dig one set of his slender fingers into your waist. It makes him hunch over, it makes him gasp, “O-or we might not even need that sake, heh-”

Eyes drifting to the platform, “I want to, though.”

And for just a second, the entire meeting hall stills. 

Every figure around the table barely even bothering to hide their blatant staring right now, some covering their gaping mouths - because the infamous leader of the Gojo clan was smiling. 

Smiling. A humorless, crazed little smile directed at you. “Then…” Barely drifting an inch even when his own free digits clasp around a tiny sake bowl, he cheers his sake cup with yours. Echoing over the twinkling clink! “-whatever my wife wants.”

And yet, you feel nothing out of the ordinary in the first few minutes - nothing but those billowing stares and Gojo’s warm proximity to you. Huffing out tiny bouts of laughter that tickle the crook of your neck, and your face burns at the stray peck or two he’s leaving down your exposed skin.

Not even in the first hour.

Or the second, and you’re half-wondering whether this initiation was nothing but a hoax. 

But veering into the third-

It happens. 

Something snaps. 

“S-Satoru?” you breathe out unsteadily when he’s suddenly growing quiet. Head craning to take in just how pretty Gojo looked right about now - robes hanging off his sculpted deltoids. A sweet strawberry blush taking over his high cheekbones, his collarbones, down further. “Are you okay?”

Of course, he wasn’t. Right now, Gojo Satoru felt so ruined he thinks he could faint. 

“Shit-” Gojo hisses from above you, snowy brows knitting together. You can’t even react before his muscular thighs bounce ever-so-slightly, shifting you just a degree higher on his lap. Just enough for him to seat you prettily by the edge of something big. Curved. Rock-hard. “Shit- shit shit- m’- m’feeling so-”

Gojo’s chopsticks clatter onto the tatami mats with a soft thud! And those fingers find themselves latching onto you. 

You, you, you - burning down the curves of your waist, sliding up your trembly thighs and just below where your robes were hiking up. He couldn’t get enough. 

“Sa-toru-” your words come out wobbly. Clutching at the slight opening of your yukata to drag in a useless attempt to drink in some cooler air. You felt like you were melting, and so were your words now. “Toru, I feel so-”

“What did you say?”

It takes you a few syrupy moments to even realize that it’s your husband speaking - because Gojo’s voice was several octaves higher than usual. Husky, like he was on the verge of shattering into a million pieces. Spitting a pained, “What did you say, honey?”

You bat your teary lashes - shit, when did you even get so stimulated - up at the thoroughly drunken elders that were sneaking peeks at the two of you.

Just for a split-second - barely enough to catch anything.

But enough for Gojo to curl the thick pads of his fingers around your throat, pulling in a roughened tug to have your back hugged even more flush against him. “Hey hey hey- look at me, pretty. Look at your husband.” Flexing his powerful back muscles in a drool-worthy way, bowing over in two to practically shove you into the cool surface of the table when he puffs up against your ear. “S-say that again?”

You’re pinned on top of the mahogany with his full body weight - and you can barely breath, barely even think before uttering out. “T-Toru?” 

And that makes Gojo Satoru shiver. 

Entire body wracking so violently, his nose buries into the tender column of your neck. Not just breathing you in - basking in you. 

Muffling out, “Again.”

“Toru.”

“Again.”

“Toru–”

It makes the strongest snap his glassy, cerulean eyes almost-comically open in a flash - winking his droopy gaze through molasses once, twice at the platform right in front of him. 

And Gojo’s barely even in control of his limbs when the mountains of his palms glide hurriedly underneath your thighs. In only a split-second, you’re carried in his arms in the easiest princess carry - but Gojo doesn’t stop there. 

No, he doesn’t simply walk out of the room like you’d expected him to - he does the complete opposite. 

Every widened eye in the room can only watch as the clan leader steps swiftly upon the now cleared-out table and onto the raised platform in only two treads. Splaying you out gently onto the firm tatami, you’re gazing up at a heaving Gojo.

Because despite the rich dinner tonight, Gojo was starving. 

The soft yolky glow of the lanterns overhead illuminates that greedy glint in his eyes - the way that his lips glisten with the slightest trail of translucent drool at the very ends of his parted, rosy pink lips. 

He’s never looked more ruined. 

“Please.” 

And it’s all but whimpered out into your mouth - pathetic and raw. 

You’re gasping sharp heavals of air when his candied lips attack yours, and through that delicious thumping between your legs that you could feel in even your ears - you hear the gasps. With a sweet, sweet whine you’re blinking your eyes open enough, “Th-they’re watching.”

“Oh.” But Gojo’s more worried about losing contact with the heaven that was your lips, chasing after to press wet peck after French peck. “S’what? You wan’ me to kill them all?”

The room drops a few chilling degrees in temperature for everyone but the two of you.

He could - he would. If you hadn’t shaken your pretty head frantically, that is, not quite ready for a bloodbath on your wedding night. Yet, you needed him so bad.

“Then- m’only gonna show them who ya belong to- who I belong to.” Calloused, rounded tips of his fingers bearing down your yukata, Gojo’s slipping in one of his cold digits between your robe to snap! snickering at your low keen. “And you’ve made it so oh- easy f’me to.”

He was so greedy. 

Stealing little spying looks down at the way your legs were splayed out, Gojo utters out a guttural, “Open- open up f’me, my wife. Show them how wet your husband’s made ya.”

And shit, you didn’t know whether it was that sake acting out on behalf of your limbs, or whether it was the way that you were so needy right now. But you could feel your thighs jittering open as soon as those humming syllables were out of Gojo’s mouth. 

“S-so embarrassing-” you whine, one hand swiping away your thin layers to show him that glistening wet plump of your pussy. Drenched. Seeping through the useless fabric of your panties to wink up at him- and oh, that makes Gojo groan.

It makes him throw his head back with a hiss - for only a split-second, as if he couldn’t take it. Before drunkenly shifting back to your pretty cunt no matter what. 

“Oh, shit.”

THUD!

The body of the one such rowdy clan heir that’d dared speak up right now hits the ground faster than your eyes hit their target. 

Fuck, you didn’t even see Gojo pull out one of his famed daggers from beneath his sleeves - but the thought of what more might hide underneath made your thighs clench. 

And Gojo notices - of course, he did. Why the fuck wouldn’t he?

“F-fuck. What a naughty pussy gettin’ drenched from just that.” he shrills - before bursting out in a bout of laughter. Laughter, humorless and feral. “Gonna be the death of me- f-fuck- you’re gonna-” For a second, you feel your skin burn in embarrassment, and your legs cross. Only for his eyes to glow a burning blue in disagreement, tutting out a low, “Tell me- hah- tell me what you want.” He’s burning up with every slow kiss down the edge of your mouth, thumbing open your glossy maw further to wrap his lips around your tongue and suck. “Anything- I’ll get ya anything.”

You’re pretty sure that everyone is gaping at the worshiped leader of the Gojo clan on his knees and begging. 

But you didn’t care - not when his solid index was drawing a slow line down the middle of your sopping slit. Bucking your hip up into an arch off the platform that makes Gojo’s achy cock twitch, and the aphrodisiac rush back to him with full force. Mewling, “Wan’ y-you, Toru-”

Eyes twinkling, “Me what, honey? The madam’s gonna hafta use m-more hah- big girl words than that.”

You want him.

You need him now. 

“So mean.” you’re huffing and puffing, yet Gojo only grins at the way he can feel your sloppily wet lips down there kiss him even wetter. Dribbling a soaking sheen down to his wrist, “Want you t-to touch me- p-”

You don’t get to say that magical word “please” because Gojo Satoru would never have you say it. 

He’s plunging out his long digits to hold up to the attractively dim lighting - yet, they’re already dazzling with the slick coating from your pre-soaked cunt. And he’s looking at a few elders right in their downturned bows as Gojo sticks his long, tender tongue out and licks. “W-whatever the madam wants. Dontcha think, elder Tanaka?”

You were the madam, and you’d be treated as such.

And shit, what that old man’s response was - whether he even responded - Gojo doesn’t give a shit. 

Because just one ounce of your sweet, sweet juices on Gojo’s tongue shoots his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Hips bucking up with a low moan, a few slurring swears falling from his lips when he feels his achy cock gush-

“Need you-” he’s gasping wetly, shuffling urgently down the expanse of the platform. Moves frantic - needy. Down, down, down until you feel his hot pants down at your cunt. “Need to- wanna- gimme a lil’ peck, m’kay?”

The syrupy ends of his sentence are slurped up down a long glide of the very edges of Gojo’s tastebuds down your swollen folds. Through your panties.

Barely even shifting them even an inch to the side when he lets your glissading juices down his tongue, drawing a sultry circle. He’s letting his eyes droop half-closed, murmuring a little growl at the very back of his throat. “Just one more-” Gojo’s voice cracks, two sets of nails pressing crescents down into your thighs with just how hard he pulls. Kisses. “-and me more-” And another. “J-jus’ one more- oh-” Another. 

And you’re barely even realizing it before Gojo’s latching his pretty lips with yours, squelching wet noises ringing in your ears and throughout all four corners of the room. 

“Th-tha’s” you manage to scoff, fingers threading into his cloudy locks and pulling. But not even that’s enough to get Gojo to part even a millimeter, in-fact he’s pushing himself even more nose-deep, rolling his tongue down your slit - like he’s trying to push through your panties. “-more than one.”

And fuck - he titters out a pussydrunk giggle down into the edges of your sloppy hole. Teasing tongue dipping just barely to circle around the very edge and then-

“Can you blame me?” Gojo smiles with his rubbed-raw lips. So fucked-out that you hear yourself gasp. Your slick was already drip! drip! dripping down his curved chin, smearing a wet gloss that sits all prettily on his features. “M’gettin’ practice to do this fer the rest of our lives.”

And everyone could see just how addicted the clan leader was. 

Everyone.

Slack-jawed and moving like he was mindlessly drawn to your pretty cunt, you’re being faced with a wet drawl of his lips down your sodden folds. Pressing the pointed tip of his nose against your plump clit he’s breathing you in all filthily. 

“Could get used ta th-this-” he spits. Once. And then literally, salivating down a wet glob right inside your snug cunt that makes you shiver. “-heh, fuck that- s’too heavenly to. I need-”

And then you’re flipped.

So fast - so sudden that you barely even register what’s happening before you’ve got Gojo Satoru smushed onto the tatami platform. Bleary eyes gazing up at you and fixating right onto your pretty face, your hips sat shamelessly on his face. 

“Toru what-”

“T-take those- off f’me, honey- please-” He couldn’t even bear to specify right now. You looked so unfairly pretty on top of him like that, even prettier when your soft, luxury robes are hitting the floor. Well, everything except those panties-

“Toru, those are gonna rip-” you yelp when you feel the stinging clench of his teeth biting down the plush of your thighs. Resting onto the sopping wet fabric of your underwear, it smears down a wet glide at his cheek. “-they’re so expensive.”

RIP!

Gojo spits back the tatters of your flimsy excuse of panties beside him - and then another saturated wad of saliva up into your cunt. “Have ya forgot that you’re the ah- madam now?” He’s snickering, curved fingertips swatting a wet smack! onto your ass, cold wedding band branding. “-jus’ use my black card ta buy the whole fuckin’ store. Dip into the hah- council’s funds fer all I care.”

And for those shocked elders snapping their eyes up - they’re met with the most obscene sight of Gojo’s gleaming tongue spreading your puffy pussy lips wide and proudly open. 

“Shit-” he’s bursting out in whiny keens. Spitting and sloshing the wet waves of every pearlescent slick that beads of you - and there’s so much of it. “Gonna get my face s-so soaked heh-” So much that Gojo was utterly ready to feed with his sliding tongue, swirling past your wet rim of muscle and fucking up into you languidly. “-didn’t even need a fuck- ch-chair, anyway.”

Your cunt sloshes all around his tongue, dragging up and down up and down up and- Thoroughly done teasing out your hole pliant, he’s dragging his lips up to suck around your peaked clit - before pinching it in a light bite. 

“Oh!” you yelp. Searing a grip into his scalp, “S-so mean-”

“Mhm— m’your big, bad mean husband- fuck-” Such syrupy, desperate whines that Gojo really can’t help but babble - over and over. “-that sake…feels like m’burning- m’dying-” He can’t stop, won’t stop, roughly attaching a hand onto the globes of your ass to help you ride. “-n’ m’fuckin’ addicted- so won’t ya toy with this hah- p-pretty pussy a lil’ n’ get even wetter for me? Please?”

God, it’s so subconscious the way that your fingers toy over your clit - tight, pressurized circles just the way you like it. 

“Like this?”

“Ohhh, yeah, wifey- let it all down m’tongue-” And Gojo’s in a hypnotic trance at how much more of your honeyed glosses of precum that soak and travel down his tongue. It works. Even more. More and more. Maddeningly. 

Until he just can’t fucking take it-

“S-stop that f’me. None of that t-touchin’ anymore oh-” he gruffs out, throat dry. “Let me-” Fucking jealous of you that he’s pushing his fucking sanity to gritting through his teeth. Gojo meanly slaps away your hand before taking it over with his own. Absolutely no warning before feeding your drooling pussy with inch after inch of his fingers. 

Two at a time. 

Three. 

Your gooey depths are clinging to him so tight, taking him like a fuckin’ champ when they’re curling at the very knuckles to press deeply. “Oh yeah- makes me w-wonder jus’ how nicely you’ll take my fuckin’ cock, too, hm?”

You’re barely able to even babble out a few incoherent moans before the very tips of his digits brush up against the bulging bullseye of your g-spot. Hard. 

“There-” you gasp. You all but cry. “R-right there, Toru-”

Swat!

“I love you, honey- oh, I love you- but right now…” Gojo’s petering his voice away, too in a heady trance with the sight of that rapidly thumping pulse at your cunt to focus on stringing any sentences together right now. And he’s licking back into your snugly-filled entrance, squeezing past the jostlie of his thickened digits to doubly penetrate you. “...jus’ wanna hear this c-cute cunt speak.”

It’s like Gojo couldn’t decide where he wanted to be next - licking up every wet dredge of your juices smearing down his wrist, hollowing his cheeks out when he sucks on your neglected clit, or drawing out the prettiest moans when he joins back in to fuck your quivering hole ragged. 

Every movement bruising - claiming. 

They’re cold inside your toasty walls. Reaching mushy nooks and crannies inside you that you didn’t even know were possible, rolling his tongue into your tight channel to drape your gummy walls with a sheen of his spit. His six-inch fingers pressing harsh against your sweet spots, you could scream-

“Oh she’s real talkative- s-so cute-” But your swashing cunt was doing all the talking for you, wringing out drippingly wet slurps and squelches that Gojo nods along drunkenly to. Maybe it was the aphrodisiac, maybe it was the way he was squeezed oh-so-tightly between your thighs - a lightheaded way to go that Gojo definitely wouldn’t mind. Because he was agreeing. “Mhm- I agree- hah- oh, I agree with ya, cutie-” Thick, white lashes bat innocently up at you, “-my wife would look s-so pretty when she cums, hm?”

And he’s right.

Drunken. 

Because when you do, the sight is so pretty that Gojo himself thinks that he could cum right there and right now in his boxers - the only thing holding him back being the stabbing need to cum inside you more than anything.

Your thighs are desperately attempting to close around his ravenous head, greedily slurping up every bit of your juices. Every bead, every splatter, every slow gush with your mess of an orgasm.

“D-didn’t even ngh- see it-” you whimper, wave after wave of white-hot pleasure flashing behind your eyes and making your spine arch in such a slutty way. “-didn’t even think I’d- oh-”

“S’quite alright-” he’s murmuring wetly. Head lolling all the way back to let you fuck your high on Gojo’s pretty face, convulsing cunt slobbering a translucent pathway all down the middle of his face. “Heheh- could never get mad- c-could never- oh fuck- use me.”

You’re gasping over distantly shocked mutters, “W-what?”

“Use me-” Gojo’s crying out, hips rutting up into the air like an animal. And he’s dangling helplessly onto the curve of your hips, jostling you desperately to fasten your vice-like grip on his hair. To ride him faster. To use him. “M’begging, my wife- fuck- let em’ see- let these fuckers see the way you u-use me.”

Voice breaking pathetically, eyes fighting not to scrunch shut, gasping and gulping for you to grind your dribbling pussy in smooth, sultry gyrations down rougher across his mouth.

And when you do, Gojo thinks he could faint. 

He’s letting out a rasping ah! ah! ah! curdle at the very back of his throat with every jolt of your hips, with every push of your cunt down his mouth that has him gasping for air. Every drawn circle making his fat head swell even girthier. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. 

It’s everything he could ever think about even when your high evolves into mere tingles, when the twitches of your legs slow down, and you find yourself lifting ever-so-slightly off of Gojo’s red, red flushed face. 

He looks so wrecked underneath - happily, so.

Flashing a brilliant smile that was dripping with all the coatings of your sloshing wet slick towards that little audience that you’d even forgotten you had. “Heh, next time my madam wants a hah- s-seat, she’ll have one. One way or the other.”

“T-Toru–” you’re whining, clamoring off to seat yourself down on his painfully hard lap. “-think they got the ngh- point.”

But, oh, the very moment your glossed pussy lips were meeting the thick bump of Gojo’s angry head through his clothes, you feel the syrupy rush of the aphrodisiac boil through your veins once more. You couldn’t even imagine how Gojo felt right now without even cumming once. 

Slotting over to resound a damp schwf! of skin on fabric. Barely giving you a moment to even recollect before you need him. You want to ruin him.

Purring lowly, “Toru…”

And the strongest gulps - Gojo Satoru gulps - a shiver thrumming down his hulking body and onto his gushing cock. It twitches up in a sodden little perk underneath you, and Gojo’s fingers attach themselves to your waist. “Y-yes, ma’am?”

“Really wanna taste you-” your lips drag across his and he keens with a slow suck on your bottom lip. “-wanna see if the r-rest of you is just as sweet?”

“Fuck!” You bounce up precariously when Gojo bucks up wildly, like he’d rip through his wedding robes and fuck you right now if he could. “Such filth from such a s-sweet mouth- ya really are gonna be the fuckin’ death of me.”

And to hear the most notorious clan leader admit shamelessly like this. To hastily untie his yukata and let it fall to the side, hear him break out in a sullen whimper when you kiss your way down his toned body, down, down, down his bulging pecs, his heaving abs, all the way to those soaked tufts of white at his pelvis-

“D-don’t tease-” 

Gojo just gasps at the hit of cool air when you’re shuffling down his stickily wet boxers in a fluid, sudden pull. Head throwing back before meeting your own widened ones - he was so big. 

You don’t think you’d ever get used to the sight, to the way that his swelling hot girth expands up a few sizes fatter at the hot puff of your feverish breath. Thumping veins prominent and blushing strawberry pink in flavor. Reddened and bulbous tip already slick with a gleam of precum, and one swipe with your thumb makes him gush out in a stringy gush of more and more-

“Shit-” 

Gojo’s letting his pathetically drooling lips sag open, eyes widening when your deft digits circle around that creamy white ring down Gojo’s length - down his underwear. 

He didn’t even realize. 

Curling his fingers around his thick base to glide over your lips like he was painting it in a pretty white lipstain. Letting your open lips drool and make a syrupy mess with his excess ribbons of cum. “Fuck- look what you do to me-”

You’re gasping with the realization that Gojo Satoru had cum in his pants from just eating your pretty pussy out - and it makes you grin. 

Pressing a sweet, sweet peck onto one remnant of his thick dredges of his slightly salty seed, it makes him rut at each of your kittenish peck after peck on his weepy head. Circular and hot. “Ya are sweet.”

And then you can’t speak anymore - because Gojo didn’t want you to speak anymore. Doesn’t think he could manage it without his hefty balls clenching dangerously once more - it was his first time, after all. 

“Handle- ah, handle me delicately, m’kay? Never done this b-before-” Biting down on his swollen lower lip when he’s watching your mouth stretch. Bulging out through your cheeks with the solid inches he was feeding you - throbbing length disappearing into your plushy mouth. 

Gojo’s so ridiculously big when the rotund ends of his cock kiss wetly against the very back of your throat. Branding a bittersweet bruise. You were sure that had it not been for just how needy you were with the sake, it would have been physically impossible to milk the entirety of his fucking soul out of him like the way you were right now. 

“O-oh-” he gasps - he pants. Chest caving it at how swelteringly hot you were inside, hugging around his sensitive cock so hard that Gojo sees stars. “Is- is this what it feels like?”

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru’s voice shiver just this way, you’ve never seen him so broken. Bouncing off the elders that see their precious leader this defiled. 

Thighs juddering up and flexing in a way that makes you salivate to lock around your neck. He’s practically headlocking you - whimpering out tiny pleas as if you could answer. “Can’t believe you’ve been holding out- can’t ah- A lil’ deeper- please? Please I know you can-” Shifting his hips up in a slow gyration of back and forths until your tongue was flattening to slide over every vein down his underside. Twirling over particularly sensitive spots at the jagged crevices that make Gojo whine. “-aww, tha’s right. My good girl- my good fuckin’ wife.”

He’s never felt like this before. 

And when you hollow out your cheeks and suck - oh, it has him hunching over rapidly. Shoving your nose up against that neat white happy trail, you’re breathing in his addictively masculine musk.

Moaning out a throaty, “Mmpf-”

“Shhh shh sh-” Gojo massages his finger down your neck, sneaking greedy feels for the outline of his thick cock down your throat. “Jus’ take it- fuck fuck fuck- don’ hafta do anything else, lemme take care of it, pretty.”

He didn’t even know what - he didn’t know how. 

But fuck-

You swirl your tongue over and underneath the sensitive bump of his slit, lathering it in a slow glissade of your salivating tongue that makes him jump. And he feels like he’s already seeing cloud nine and the pearly gates itself by the time you steady yourself into sultry, sucking bobs. 

Dancing a hand up to rub over his tight, cum-filled balls - and maybe it was the aphrodisiac, maybe it was just him - but it felt like he was about to burst already.

He was going to.

A slight hiss - not from you, not from him - manages to emanate its way into his melty mind, and Gojo’s finding it in himself to let his head throw back with a sudden laugh. Glassy eyes barely even focusing on the jaw-dropped figures around the table, “Y-your madam’s hgnh- taking me so well, isn’t she?” Head tilting drunkenly back at you, “Wontcha say she’s doin’ a damn good job-”

Only a few mutters - a few scoffs. 

And Gojo’s finding his digits twirling tightly to latch onto your scalp, hissing through clenched teeth. “Say it.”

A unanimous, humiliating “yes” echoes from all sides of the platform. 

And one from your wrecked husband right in front of you - “Yes- hahah-” he giggles. Brushing over the splattered mix of precum and cum that drips down the side of your thoroughly open mouth when you suck all his fat inches. Popping it into his mouth to taste. “-doin’ so well f’me I think- hngh- think I might-”

Of course, at this, you’re speeding up your greedy bounces. Fucking Gojo so heavenly with his mouth that he thinks he’s memorized every curve and twist of your tongue, every single tastebud-

“Naughty girl-” You’re being gifted with another smack! on your ass, and he’s having to haul you off of his reddened, angry cock with a tightened grip around your throat. With one, two slow pumps right in front of your face. And then up, up, up enough for him to hum into your mouth in an attacking French kiss. “-I like that.”

Gojo’s bulging biceps ripple when he seats you all prettily on his lap - just like earlier on tonight. Except, this time, you were facing him - and feeding your drooling cunt all angry inch by inch of his rock-hard cock.

“O-open up those hngh- pretty legs.” he murmurs in a heaving hot breath into your ear. Eyes blaring down at the way your squirmy legs were adjusting and readjusting around slender hips. “Open ‘em and t-take me-”

The way you do makes him gape, makes him gasp, makes him impatiently wrap two arms around the small of your back to fuck up past that tight little ring of resistence and into your walls depravedly. 

Just hitting the very back of your spongy cervix with the upwards curved tip of his head before gushing out thick, wet splatters of cum. The gripping cling of your cunt too good, the way you were sucking him up still fresh. 

And perhaps because of the aphrodisiac, but he was cumming so much. 

Such voluminous loads of seed that dump out into your gooey insides, it sloshes all around him and makes such squelches that reaches his ears. Drooling through the very edges of your sopping wet slit-

“S-see what happens?” Gojo’s whimpering in a way that a clan leader decidedly was not known for. Being the strongest, too. Driving a thumb along your bulging slit, he’s taking the opportunity to smear your pussy lips even wider to swallow more of him. To plug his cum back in. To show off. “See how ah- see what you do to me? Let everyone see-” 

And Gojo sounded so desperate, gasping out little utterances and praises into your mouth while he’s shoveling his swollen cock upwards into you. Taking the lewd advantages of years of combat to pummel every recoiling wall of yours with punishing, pressurized thrusts. 

“Wh-what do I do to ya, Toru?” you hum curiously, half-delirious. 

“Drive me fuck- insane, tha’s what-” he’s hissing, sparks behind his eyes. Swiping down to where he could feel the drilling nudge of his weepy cock, pressing down- hard. He’s mushing over the sensitive slit of his cock accidentally, “Oh- makes me wanna do this forever-” He’s nosing down the crook of your neck now, hiding away that innocent blush of his. “-to fuck you, make love to you, to breed you.”

You sputter out a sudden clench that has Gojo falling back down onto his elbows. Back hitting the tatami mats, your hands hitting his cushiony pecs. “Y-you wan’ to breed me? Hngh- you w-want an heir, Toru?”

An heir - an heir. 

An heir, an heir, an heir. God, it’s thundering throughout his mind and syrupy slowly turning into just about all he can think about.

“M-me? Want an heir?” He’s shuddering out, massive palms splaying out on the two globes of your ass to stretch your taut pussy further down his cock. “What makes you think- oh- what-” Until your perky lips were kissing his heated pelvis, your pulsing clit scratching deliciously down his tufts of white. And at this very second, peering up at you through hooded eyes, gaze half-curtained with his hair, drunken - all that Gojo can imagine is how pretty you are. And how much prettier you’d be as a mama. “C-can I get you hngh- p-pregnant- please, ma’am?”

Mere seconds of his thrumming shaft stretching you open pass as he looks dazedly to the side, “After all- s’what th-this initiation is for, right?”

And then you feel like you’re being spearheaded all the way to your lungs with all of Gojo’s girth. 

“Toru-” you whine, nails dragging little red lines down his broad neck and all over his shoulders. “-deeper. More please- it feels so-”

“More?” Gojo chuckles, hysterical. “You want m-more?”

He’s barely even answering his own question - let alone allowing you to answer. 

Because Gojo’s taking this as the cue to restrain your two wrists behind your back with one of his own, forcing you to whine and shudder out little sobs when your thighs strain to meet his jackhammering cadence. 

Ass stinging at the bruising slap! of his sharp hip bones, the way his heated cunt was swirling around your sweet spots so right. It felt like you were burning from the inside out-

“Ah ah-” Gojo tuts, snapping you out of your woozy reverie. Free hand coming to knock away one of your trembly palms snaking down to your neglected clit - when did you even start that? “Can’t ask me for m-more n’ do this. Move that hand so I can f-fuck you proper, honey-”

You barely even have the time to whine about it before he’s spitting a streaming waterfall of saliva onto his fingers, pinching at your clit. 

“Heh, don’t think I f-forgot about ya-” You whine at the way he was drawing dizzying circles, the cool burn of his matching wedding band. “Th-they say ya needa have the hngh- mother cum, too, ta make kids.”

Plural. 

“K-kids?” you muse. 

“Mhm-” he’s nodding like he doesn’t even realize. “How about- six-”

Maybe from the shock, maybe from the way that he was filthily spearing against your g-spot so good, you collapse readily onto your elbows. Feeling every slick and slide of Gojo’s abs rubbing up against you.

Each singular thrash into your cervix has Gojo’s babbles running more nonsensical - more pussydrunk. “Thinkin’ wh-whatever ya want- hngh- to fill ya up- Have you all r-round and ha- glowing.” Like it pained for him to even say, like it hurt with every sloppily wet thwack! of his heavy balls on your ass. “Have you be m-my madam- the mother of my kids- hngh- all with your pretty eyes-” he’s sobbing now. Swirling around his rounded tip till it hits sweets spots you didn’t even know you had. “-n’ my hair and hah- your personality- c-can’t imagine fighting over them for ya- wh-what do you think, cutie?” 

But as soon as you’re cracking your mouth open to fervently agree - at least, as much as your hazy mind could at this point, Gojo’s raising his right hand to palm over it. 

With a drunken smirk, “M’askin’ her, my wife- dontcha w-worry-” Nuzzling your cheek, “-haven’t forgotten about the mother of my kids.” 

And the saccharine-sweet sloshing is enough to ring throughout Gojo’s ears like his favorite melody - and he’s memorized every note. Pumping out more and more spurts of hot precum to stain your insides and dribble uproariously. Sleazing a grin your way, “Almost there- almost- but first-”

Every single elder he’s glaring upon jumps when Gojo graces them with one of his looks - even as barely-lucid and fucked-out as he was. He leers, “How about it? Heh, wanted a-an heir so bad n’ now you’re gonna get it. Happy now?”

As expected, no answer. 

But Gojo didn’t need one anyway - not when your ringing slurps as you swallow up his cock thunder across his ears. “O-oh, she’s tellin’ me something-”

“Wh-what is she sayin’, Toru-” you whine, lips wobbling uncontrollably in much the same way that your pussy folds were right now. 

“She’s sayin—” Gojo’s voice takes on a whimpering lilt, and he has absolutely no idea how you haven’t noticed that determined clenching of your gummy walls, the breathless pants of yours. So he only smiles, teeth sinking playfully into your ear lobe, “-that my gorgeous wife’s about to cum.”

Stars flurrying behind your lids, your toes curl and hips slam with enough force to rock the platform rickety. 

But if you didn’t notice your high - then Gojo certainly didn’t notice his, either.

Too caught-up, too busy rutting up in solid strides into your dripping cunt to notice that he was splattering your squeezing walls to be sopping wet with oozes of cum. There are so many gushes of it that Gojo feels dizzy, he feels like he’s about to break. 

“Wait- wait wait m’cumming again-” he gasps. Pinching your clit with two fingers to feel the way that jittery convulsion has Gojo’s potent seed coating his cock a glistening white. Something marshmallow creamy that makes him swallow. “D-didn’t even know I could hngh- c-cum again-”

Didn’t know if he even wanted to but- but of course, he did. 

He’s hissing at the dredges of wispy white that drip from between your slit, the very sight itself tipping Gojo over to sprinkle out a few more velvety ribbons that knock at your womb.

“Heheh- think this t-took?” Those mere words feel so sinful on his tongue, and Gojo’s ears flush a ruby red. But he can’t find himself stopping when he plugs out of your snug cunt, whimpering at the sensitive cling of your cunt as if she didn’t want to part ways. “Whoops-”

You whine at the warmly wet gush of your still-convulsing cunt, “Don’t think it t-took if you’re pulling out-”

SLAM!

You don’t know who’s actually gasping - the elders, Gojo, or you. Still reeling from the way you’re immediately flipped over onto all fours, cheeks smushed against the tatami mat so hard that Gojo wonders whether it’ll leave a mark for tomorrow. 

Assuming the two of you get out of this alive, that is. 

“Let them see-” he’s hissing, cupping your pussy to leave a few wet smacks that smear your abundance of his cum down onto the platform. So much of it. “-let them see how th-their heir is made since they wanna hah- see so badly.”

And god, the sight was supposed to taunt those in the fucking audience - but it has Gojo’s slick-sheening cock twitching up in interest once more. Barely even knowing what he’s doing before spreading open your pussy lips with one swipe of his bawling tip, and then inside-

“You d-didn’t think we were done, ngh, did you, my wife?”

As if you could ever be done with him.

Pound after pound. 

Gojo was so painfully hard right now he felt like he was going to explode - and he wanted- no, needed to be deeper than he ever has inside of you. 

Which is what found him placing an unapologetic foot on top of your head, the slight jostle in angle making him swoon in a probing push against the very ends of your cervix. And every shaky thrust too hard made you feel like he was going to fuck an heir right into your awaiting womb.

“M’sorry-” he gasps, tearily. Wet splatters of the salty substance hitting the side of your shoulder as Gojo bends - and folds and folds you pliantly right along with him. “Don’t mean to- hngh- didn’t- fuck but I need it so badly- s-so deeply- don’t think I’ve bred this cute cunt ‘nough.”

Pushing you down with his utterly full bodyweight, you’re pinned to the platform. For every eye to see the snapping, creamy strings that connect his glossy cock to your overfilled cunt. It sprinkles across your ass and down your legs, and he’s eyeing down at the glossy pool of mess sticking between your two sweat-sheened bodies from before. 

So badly. 

It’s so much - too much.

Placing kiss after gliding kiss of his syrupy precum down the very bottom of your pussy, whining at the slight recoil that has him pushing back from the elastic depths of your cunt. Such a splitting stretch that bullies you wordless. 

And it could’ve been hours - it could’ve been minutes until all that you can manage is a tiny huff that leaves your pouty lips with every wet squelch, and only makes his fat cock bludgeon even harder. He’s fucking you thoroughly, almost as if he hates you. 

Yet, sounding so badly apologetic that you can’t help but crack a smile - at least, as much as you could when your sweet insides were being ravaged by him. “S’all f-for an heir, isn’t it, Toru–?”

God- and then he’s cumming. 

Embarrassingly, almost-painfully - but still so needily.

It’s splattering and overfilling you so much that you feel your elastic walls pull taut at the sheer inflation, making you strangle out a sudden moan. Splat! splat! splattering a thin sheen down your inner thighs, the wet pumps have him fucking it even harsher to coat your spongy womb with his cum, knocking- begging for any sort of entrance.

Messy. So fucking messy that you feel your skin burn.

He can’t help it - oh, he can’t control himself when he’s pulling out for just a split-second to shuffle downwards and press his face right into your sopping folds. Latching his spit-slicked lips around your sensitive nub of a clit. Humming, sucking-

And through it all - you can just barely make out Gojo’s voice. Raw, broken. “D-don’t think it took…don’t think my h-heir took.”

“...”

It slowly evolves into Gojo’s own personal little manga - the very same that he gasps out over and over into your open mouth on the third round. Just a few more tears, a few more of his sloppy strokes in a prone bone that his aching body can barely even hold up.

Now well past the aphrodisiacs, and the allotted time for your initiation. But your audience was still seated, and the fatigue setting into both of you as you both cum with strangled cries - and Gojo’s stream of sweltering hot seed now noticeably wispier than usual. 

But still - still it wasn’t enough.

And by the fourth round, you’re wondering how the hell it was that neither of you had broken any bones, yet. Especially considering the sloppy full nelson that your greedy husband had somehow managed to wrangle you into.

Slipping and sliding across one another in a way that had Gojo crying out in frustration, drool dripping down the side of his lips  - all he really wanted to do was stuff his angry cock into you again. 

The fifth and sixth rounds start before the previous one had even ended, you think. And you’re riding on a constant wave of high while Gojo’s weepy cock sobs out a few more spurts of seed all throughout. 

Teeth clacking against your own in a mess of a kiss, voice dragging in tiny breaks at the very end of his throat. Gojo doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the rounded divot at the end of his overstimulated cock shivers out nothing. 

And Gojo knows he should be cumming - he feels like he should be cumming. 

But all his poor, half-softening cock can do is let out a gush of nothingness. Big, fat tears glistening down Gojo’s cheeks when he cums dry in the meanest mating press possible for both your tired bodies. Yet, still fucking you like he was with his cum again and again-

“You all-” Everyone jumps at the sudden, hoarse voice coming from the leader, having resigned himself to mere whimpers of your name and “heirs” by now. And the elders can’t even hold his droopy, barely-there gaze. Dangerous. “Bow. Bow to your new madam.”

A/N. Hope you all have a lovelyyy day.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[actuallyjustabiscuit]

“The type of girl to bang on the glass when she sees an alligator outside and scare it away.”

lol is Vaggie Floridian?

Vaggie the type of girl to wake up to her alarm clock and break it with a hammer.

Vaggie the type of girl to get into a fight like this.

Vaggie the type of girl roll up her sleves before she gets to work on something.

Vaggie the type of girl to close the fridge with her hip.

Vaggie the type of girl to flip the table over when she loses at chess.

Vaggie the type of girl to actually power her phone off in the movie theater.

Vaggie the type of girl to say "safety first." When putting on her seat belt.

Vaggie the type of girl to bang the glass when she sees an alligator outside and scare it away.

Vaggie the type of girl to say "I'm coming with you." When someone plans to do something dangerous alone.

Vaggie the type of girl to tug on her collar when she's nervous.

[neon-in-the-night-time]

currently reading a fic that takes place in nyc but it is very clearly written by a non-us american (if i had to guess i’d say the author’s english) but of all the inconsistencies that don’t make sense for america/nyc/high school the funniest is just now when the author wrote in that right before the final bell before class begins at the beginning of the day they play the national anthem over the intercom to “catch people who weren’t late enough to warrant a slip but were late enough to not make it to their class before the final bell” like. taking the pledge of allegiance (which many schools don’t take that seriously by the time they get to high school) to a whole new level

[heliios]

"what are u texting ur other hoes?” girl WHAT other hoes 💀

[waitingonher]

because i love you — [hoo boys headcanons]

summary: your "thing" with the hoo boys!

author's note: in honor of the pjo series coming out today,,have this rlly rlly short draft from earlier this year! xoxo

percy jackson — doodling on him

“give me your hand.”

“yes ma’am.”

minutes pass as you doodle gods know what onto percy’s hand. you always resort to this whenever the camp head counselor's meeting begins late—which seems to be every meeting—and giving percy "tattoos" certainly kills time. last meeting, you drew a can of beans and the time before that, was a bouquet of tulips. so honestly his guess being a pair of socks this time isn’t too far of a reach.

“okay, done,” you release his hand, a proud smile gracing your features, “cute right?”

he quirks a brow upon seeing the drawing, “is that…” percy turns his head to the side, gaining better perspective, “is that a flying fish?” 

“wow, you’re good,” you say, giving him a nod of approval, “although, last time you did say that my can of beans looked like a roll of toilet paper…” 

your boyfriend throws his hands in the air, “in my defense, you used a shitty pen so it was hard to tell.” 

“whatever.” 

jason grace — sewing your initials on his clothes

“hi love,” jason says, plopping down beside you on the couch. you give him a bright smile as he places a gentle kiss on your head, “almost done?” 

nodding proudly, you hold up his pair of jeans to show him your work: your initials sewn onto a corner of his back pocket, “yup, just finished actually! what do you think of the color? i think you bought the thread for me on our second date. but i totally forgot i had it until i went digging in my supply box.” 

a grin plasters itself on jason’s face as he nods his head in realization, “i knew the color seemed familiar. i remember wondering why a tiny spool of thread was so expensive. but it’s perfect, i love it,” he kisses your cheek, “all my friends are gonna be so jealous that they don’t have their girlfriends’ initials sewn onto their clothes.” 

you laugh as you imagine jason vehemently bragging about his jeans to all his friends, “tell them i’m charging $50 if they want me to do theirs,” you wink. 

“we’d make more than the stolls’ and their smuggling business if we did that,” he laughs, admiring your work once more. who knew that having your initials on his pants would have such an affect on him, “also, can you do my sweaters and my other jeans?"

you raise a brow, "i might have to start charging you at this point."

leo valdez — impromptu fashion shows

“wow!” you clap enthusiastically, “your outfit even puts paris fashion week outfits to shame!” yes, because a rainbow checkered crop top with a humongous green tutu and a pink boa paired with insanely skinny stilettos beats any and all high fashion runway outfits, “now, leo valdez, can you give us a few words about your new clothing line? and possibly a bit about what it’s like to be so amazingly talented?” you inquire, raising an invisible microphone to his mouth. 

leo oh-so humbly bows and rises with a proud grin, “thank you, thank you, but i honestly must give all credit towards my beautiful muse, y/n, she’s the inspiration behind my new line. and about being so talented, it really is such hard work to be this naturally gifted.”

“ooh, do tell about this ‘y/n.’ i’ve never heard of her but she does sound absolutely gorgeous!” you exclaim, keeping up with the act. 

your boyfriend nods firmly, “oh yes, she’s very, very, very beautiful,” adding a playful wink, “but i must say, she has the worst morning breath i’ve ever encountered!” 

your smile drops and you squint your eyes, “i’m going to choke you with that stupid ugly boa if you don’t take that back right now.” 

“uh ma’am,” leo backs up nervously, clutching his boa, “i’m going to have to call security if you threaten me again.” 

"i'm seriously going to kill you."

[chelseasdagger]

me throughout the ENTIRETY of this chapter because there’s too much happening and i can’t keep up

MICHELLE! i absolutely love the way you play at both frank and the cam boy as different people and how frank can be so sweet and nervous meanwhile he does the side hustle he does like CJSKDKSK idk i just love all these characters and the way you ended this chapter make me nervous for the next one even though i know what’s gonna happen CJDKSK

Private Matters

Chapter III (18+)

Cam Boy! Frank Castle x Female Reader

Story summary: After stumbling upon a cam website one night you quickly discover your favorite streamer. Unable to get the thoughts and images of him out of your mind you decide to become a supporter and the two of you grow closer to each other over time. Things get complicated when your close friend, neighbor and crush decides to express his feelings for you.

Chapter summary: You decide to distract yourself with work as an attempt to distract your mind form the events of the previous day but Frank Castle won’t let you focus on anything that’s not him. He has a question, and needs an answer. What will you do?

Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, solo play,  teasing, mention of sex toys

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Okay chapter III is here! I want to apologize for how long it took me to get this part out. I guess writers block and also life just happens and sometimes its a bit more dificult to find time to sit down and focus on writing, but im glad I managed to find that time and u hope you’ll all enjoy this. Thank you my sweet @chelseasdagger for proofreading this and deeling with my whining.

The next morning brings some form of comfort, at least until the memories of last night’s events begin to slowly come back to you. You stretch under the covers with a quiet yawn and sigh softly before the sudden realization strikes you out of nowhere.

“Noooooooo.”

You cry out, hiding your face in your hands, as you pull your legs up to your chest with a grunt. It doesn’t help, and you feel yourself cringing at your own thoughts, memories, and yesterday’s choices before attempting to find something else to focus on.

“It’s fine.”

You mumble to yourself before throwing the covers off.

Keep reading

[sundrlands]

‘below the mouth’ j. sunderland x fem reader

minors dni

cw: in the dark, shoe riding/humping, light oral fixation/spit play, slightly messy, james is depicted as a pervert, sub leaning james with him being dominant at times, obsessive(j.), mutual masturbation(?), squirting, breeding, james is in his mid to late thirties. reader uses she/her pronouns.

summary: james… your coworker. the man who seems so hardworking, headstrong and devoted to his work… is nothing but a pervert enticed with the very being that you are… he can’t help but to see you as art— a canvas to paint on… as if his hands were paint… and his fingertips as the bristles, sketching out his greed with his lips and his words.

a/n: more porn than plot, forgive me. not too fond of this one and kept eyeing it over and over over and ended up truly hating this… nonetheless i hope you find some enjoyment in this one. i did not proofread…

oh james… what ever shall he do?

poor thing, constantly wrapped up in his own mind… unable to tame the growing thoughts that mutated within him. being lonely does things to a person… the years of suppression only made his longing for intimacy fester in the darkness of his greed.

in the beginning… it had been alright— good with his composure, carrying a kind of elegance through his actions and words. he wore ‘respect’ like an honorable man— button down shirts, tucked nicely in his well ironed pants. every day he’d come in dapper, not one thing out of place. it would be impressive to notice his true desires when he hadn’t worn them out on his sleeves.

though now… it was a different story. there’s only so much he could take… seeing you in your work outfits every single day or hearing your voice… the song you sung that never failed to make him treasure your being and feel every vowel that spewed from your lips filter and sprawl all throughout his veins. james tried to keep his need low, always being so gentleman like— kind, thoughtful and charming, but his thickening puddle of lust seeped through in the growing void that rests in the center of his eyes… being far dirtier than what meets the eye, disgusting even.

it was cute once you picked up on it… or at least the extent of it— his shyness and ability to lose all self, unable to maintain professional eye contact or a flowing sentence without randomly clearing his throat. a man well into his thirties— one that was valued by your shared boss, exceeding work ethic, always saying ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘yes sir’, not blinking an eye to the rule’s code— felt the need to act so foolishly enticed when it came to you.

for him, the absence of touch— one that he never felt come from your hand — drove james into a constant state of lustrous want… it ate within his being like a hungered cannibal digging its fingers through every fiber of his flesh. it prodded and ripped in the center of his chest like a wolf's canines as he sat at his work desk, drained… lifeless… thinking about everything he wanted to do to you… or whatever you’d do to him.

the inside of his body grew hot at the thought of you— dry throat, racing heart, fumbling words… his eyes, lingering all over your body longer than they had the day before, trying to see how much he could get away with… letting every second store itself in his photographic memory.

infested with carnality, day and night. james’ mind couldnt escape his perverted thoughts; as if it was the horrid and angry deep sea, crashing against the softness of the hot sand, in need of something to fix prurience, and the heightening want to be underneath your skin.

it started off with a hello, you being new and him well within the company’s community by a decade or two. a sweet exchange of a firm gripped hand shake and small talk before you went on your way. upon his sight, he was already fond of the beauty you blossomed. he wasn’t able to stop himself from looking… and as time continued, each day you met with him, it caused him to be in his head.

whenever you agreed to go out with your coworkers to local bars and restaurants, he’d ask around, passively, wanting to know if you’d be there to join. any chance he’d get, he’d sit next to you or across from you, thinking that the lack of lighting would hide the fact that he sat there to study you— his gentle hazel eyes, staring with eagerness… tattooing you into the grooves of his brain. each time you all went out, it was as if he tried harder… or lost the ability to care if you noticed or not. catching his eyes… for the first few seconds he didn’t even realize your attention on him until you’d call out his name a few times or lean towards him, breasts spilling from your top.

he’d go home, all eager. undoing his tie and his belt, slamming his door shut and making his way towards his bed, muttering: “just this once…” to himself, staring down at his hardened dick after thinking about the way your breasts sat prettily in the top you wore.

with his eyes squeezed shut, his wrist rippled in fast motion with whitening knuckles. he’d call out your name. each whinier than the last… feeling the weight of your name kiss the head of his cock— irregular breathing, toes curling into the thick of his comforter— whines that turned into a chants. over and over again he moaned your name, not even lasting three minutes until he let himself go… ribbons of his hot cum falling down onto his chest.

shame filtered his body almost instantaneously, not understanding how he was able to let himself go just from a simple top you wore… he swore to himself that that would be the first and only time he’d ever do something like that— to rush into his house just to relieve the growing hard on that you, without much acknowledgment, gave him.

and for a few days, he hadn’t. it didn’t stop the stares or the way his cock jumped upon hearing your voice… he’d just fall back into the same perverted state, clutching onto the arm of his work chair while you talked to him about something he couldn’t even pay much attention to. he saw the outline of your body against your work outfit thinking about how you’d look if he ripped it off.

his breathing quickened as he tried to direct his gaze on something else, his computer… maybe his paperwork? it didn’t help because he could still hear you fucking speak.

a sharp gulp and a shaky sigh— it was the most obvious he’s ever been, sensing the way he was unable to sit still. “james?” you called out, amusement lingering in the tone of your voice.

“uhm.” he huffed, a faint smirk curling at the side of his lips, trying to keep his composure as much as he could. “sorry… im not feeling too well.” turning his head to you, seeing a warm, devious yet alluring smile rest on your lips. almost immediately, he reacted. swallowing hard and clearing his throat.

walking towards where the man sat, you placed your hand at his shoulder, feeling the softness of his suit glide against your palm, finding his averting eyes, “do you need me to… get you anything?”

he shook his head, flinching upon touch, dropping his attention into his lap where his hands bunched to cover the obvious dent. “it… it’s fine. i just have to use the restroom… excuse me.” his voice quick and slurred, body immediately jumping up from his chair as he made his way to the men’s bathroom.

the beat of his heart ran heavily in his ribcage, causing his body to burn and wither as he laid himself limply against the bathroom’s door. each inhale was harder to stabilize— the air feeling heavy and clunky as it lumped and fell down his throat. with the soft jingle of his belt, he pulled his pants and underwear down to his knees, “god…” he sighed, wrapping his hand around his cock— hot and tortured, “why do you… why do you turn me on so much?”

soft chokes and mutters fell in the echoing bathroom’s walls, covering his mouth creating muffled whimpers to exude and swell. his body churned and trembled, hearing the loose hinges of the door combat with his movement. “fuck… fuck…” he whined, his eyes traveling up to see the mirror across the way.

the sight of himself… it almost looked like his own reflection was a stranger. no person has ever made him have the need to run for a quick release… at least not from their voice alone. it was just how eager he was— how eager you made him— the look of his knees buckling, the pace of his pumps, the skin of his face shake and the way he desperately tried to keep himself quiet… he looked so pathetic to himself, never seeing that side or noticing how much you made him that way just from the sight of you.

in a way… it turned him on, getting a better picture of what you’d see if you were to stand in this very bathroom. thoughts grappled through his visionary mind, his vision shooting towards different places in the bathroom, looking at the sink: how pretty you’d look, pants down your legs with him fucking up into you, your own eyes in the mirror, watching yourself getting fucked by him. or in the stall: your fingers clutching harshly at the stall’s door with his fingers deeply plunging itself inside of your cavern.

a million and one things infiltrated his desires until he couldn’t find himself to stop even after the first time he came onto the bathroom’s floor. his wrist burned with the consistent motion, after his cock hadn’t let up its hardness, moaning as quietly as he could to have himself go limp.

thirty minutes he spent in there… and for him to be known to cum quick… it only meant that he rung himself dry. he couldn’t even walk straight— you knowingly understanding the weight of power you had over him after you timed his absence and him finally waddling back into his chair.

“you alright?” you laugh sweetly, being as oblivious as you could possibly be within his perspective, trying not to stare at the small wet spot that circled at his crotch.

“yeah…” his voice trembling, still in a daze from his multiple orgasms, “must’ve ate something funny…”

after that day… jerking off in the office’s bathroom, there was no turning back— as if that was the only reason that would’ve been true. there was no way he’d be able to contain the continuous passion that resonated all throughout his body— as if you talked to him through your idle.

days would pass and he’d show himself more and more obvious, losing the care to show off his usual persona. he’d take one of your handkerchiefs you left on your desk when you hadn’t been around, tucking them in his pockets only to inhale the left over scent that interwoven itself into its soft cloth, using it almost every night until all he could smell was his own scent. he’d hold onto your wrist when trying to grab your attention, clutching it until he felt the gentle pulse, syncing with the growing hard on he’d feel build and tighten at the crotch of his pants.

on random days, he’d listen when you spoke to other’s about the dates you’ve been on, hearing how they werent satisfying you— filling his brain with possible ways he’d make you feel good. taking you out to eat with good food and wine with an even better conversation only to have him balls deep inside of you just for you to remember nothing from anyone in your past and only form yourself at the outline of his cock.

on a sunny afternoon, you had a held a party for your birthday— all the coworkers you found as friends, including james— in your house for drinks, food and good music. you kept your eye on him as much as you could without making it obvious that the only reason for the party was to see how he’d react now being so close to you.

he showed nothing but nervousness, almost never leaving the cushions from your couch, not even drinking or eating for that matter. he looked uncomfortable… or maybe he was just deep in thought. it only took one look away for him to disappear, his lack of person and the indent of where he sat on the couch to be shown.

james decided he needed more… that handkerchief wasn’t enough since your scent was gone and his imaginations made his want physically hurt considering he wasn’t able to touch you like he wished he could.

finding his way to your room, he rummaged through your dirty laundry, finding a pair of black panties, keeping it to himself. in a cold sweat, he knew that he had time to spare, whipping his head back and forth from the cloth towards your bedroom door before he sat on your bed, rolling his thumb at the crotch of your underwear.

deep and staggered breaths, he rose it up to his nose, smelling the soiled cloth, noticing how these pair must’ve been worn during your arousal, his cock reacting like wildfire— choking at the lack of air he gave himself from the constant huffing he did. each inhale was like heaven. god… your pussy smelt so good… better than he could imagine. the muscle of his tongue sliding at the left over cream marks left, his moans staggering, almost in need of crying at how good this action made him feel.

placing the underwear in his mouth, he grabbed what was closest to him— your pillow— angling his body to get himself off. luckily with how loud the music had been outside, no one would be able to hear the brash creeks of your bed as he humped himself to oblivion. hips snapping, fingers curling into your bed’s unmade sheets with his face planted deep within them as he sniffed whatever your body’s scent leftover.

this is what he wanted… this is what he feened for. only orgasming once, he fixed your bed trying to replicate as if he had never been on it, tucking the panties… and one more in his pants pocket and walking out of your bedroom.

met with him, you smiled, noticing the lust that fumed off of his person, not making it seem as if you knew, “what’re you doing in there? the parties out there silly.” you laughed.

“yeah! i was just looking for the bathroom.” he gulped.

nodding, you ran your tongue over the bottom of your lip, eyeing how his hair wasn’t as neat as it had been before and his shirt wasn’t tucked in as it usually was. “it’s just down there.”

“thank you.” scattering down the hall.

upon entering your room, all you could smell was the foreign aroma of his arousal, smiling at how you didn’t even had to do anything to him physically let alone verbally and he got so worked up. riddled with temptation, you knew you had this man wrapped around your finger, obliging with his action and giving him more with your seductive nature.

it was more noticeable now— how you both operated whenever with each other. anyone could just sense it, feel it, cut it in the thickening air of their razor nails. the body languages, the way you both spoke, the way your eyes spoke with extreme intent.

the tingling sensation rose within your body, almost electrifying you whenever you heard your name being called by him— his natural rasp that croaked from his throat, huddling over your eardrums with bliss. you could only guess what he did that day when he bolted off into the bathroom. it was obvious. feeling your attraction grow by his attentiveness and the willingness of him trying so desperately to be beside you… just thinking about him got you so worked up.

it was fun witnessing his obvious need to separate himself just to get off… but the poor boy needed solace you thought to yourself.

he was being such a good boy, trying so hard not to put himself onto you, being respectful enough, kind and excusing himself but you decided to take charge— have him finally able to get what he wanted and what you were curious about.

one night, you took that advantage as everyone else had dispersed from the office, it had only been you two, him hunched in his chair, face glowing from his computer screen and you packing all of your work to go home. he usually stayed overtime, having his own set of keys the boss left because of his repetitive stay.

now you stood within his space, the office dark, a low hum coming from james not even noticing your silhouette that stood just at his cubicle. “you going home?” you spoke out, your voice lulling out.

startled, he turned at his chair, swallowing down the large lump that rested at his throat. “oh!” he chirped, looking back and forth at the shadow that made up of you and his computer screen. “uh not yet… there’s some things i have to finish.”

“could it wait? just for a little?”

furrowing his eyebrows, he sat confused, noticing the tone of your voice, feeling his palms dampen, rubbing them roughly at his pant legs.

oh how cute he was acting.

“sorry i..” he chuckled nervously, “im confused.”

sucking at your tongue, you stepped forward, the screen’s light falling at your outline, exposing the lust that mixed in with the devious expression that wore on your face. “don’t give me that look,” you cooed, closing the distance between you both until your feet planted themselves just before him. “tell me, what has you still in this office this late at night?”

“uhm yeah…” he chuckled again, his words slow as he spoke about the finishing touches of a project that had been due in a few days. quite honestly, you hadn’t cared much to know, you just enjoyed the random inhales of breath in between his words as he tried to keep his composure at bay.

“such a good man you are. i take it your work ethic is better than all of us combined?”

he cleared his throat, tilting his head in nervousness at the choice of words that trickled down, aiming at his spine with him tensing in his chair. “th… thank you.”

“but you should take a break, you seem all pent up. that isn’t healthy, don’t you think?”

“what do you purpose?” he asked with you humming in response.

the silence between that fell in the air was loud, burning against your eardrums until you heard his breathing coming in shallow wheezes, his chest tightening as his heart hammered at his ribcage. he couldn’t even look at you… his head couldn’t lift itself from his hands, fingers tangling with themselves.

“can you look at me?” you soothed.

no response was given, just the raise of his body at every heavy inhale.

“look at me james…” your voice now coming out as a whisper, using your hand to curl at his jaw, feeling the roughness of the stubble that ran alongside it. at a gentle lift, his face rose, his eyes staggering to follow until you saw the gentle, puppy-eyed man lock himself onto you. “that’s it..”

at the tilt of his head, his body hiccuped in a trickling gasp. every memory of him being by himself, jerking his hardening cock, the sounds of his own pleasuring cries echoed in his brain. it burned at his cheeks with a peach strain— embarrassed but enamored by the sway of your lulling voice and kind eyes. the cold that emitted from your hand felt like static, almost foreign, unable to comprehend that you where here, actually touching him and it wasn’t just his perverted mind conjuring up a scene of you having your way with him.

just by your simple touch, it felt raw and ravenous—body stiffening like tainted brittle bones… his spine slowly contorting in a fidgeting arch, like christ himself pressed his jellied pierced palms across the flesh of an aching wound. “fuck…” he breathed, giving up on his lose of current reality, placing his own hand on top of yours, sliding it more onto his own face. he buried himself in it, eyes closing, falling into a blissful state, feeling the warmth that blossomed and coddled at his skin.

his mind and his body was starved… in need of you as if the only sin he knew was nothing but greed— believing the palms of your hands was magic, a bandage to a scab, an antidote to a sickness. you did nothing but stand there, watching him revel in pleasure just from your hand now stroking his face slowly and delicately, admiring the sweet yet sorrowful pout drawn at his lips.

“follow my words.” you spoke, interrupting the silence between you both, “can you do that for me james?”

his eyes dilated, feeling his stomach drop hearing his name being called. it drove him mad and it only was because of your voice— so gentle and sweet, thick as if he could gnaw on it. “yes…” he finally answered.

standing behind him, you let the pressure of your hands massage his back, feeling the tension reside in his shoulders. you could feel his irregular breathing at every push your fingers gave, knuckles whitening at the clutch of his pant legs. “oh wow you’re so tense… why is that?”

“just… all the work is getting to me.”

“yeah?” your voice obvious in sensuality, hearing his grunt when you let the pressure fall a little rougher. a quiet exchange of noises bounced back and forth with comforting and pent up sighs, spending a good few minutes, trailing your hands down the sides of his arms, “you’re pretty built underneath this suit.” you teased.

clenching his eyes tight, he screamed at himself internally, trying to speak to his cock to not harden but it failed, looking down at his lap and seeing what the computer’s light was able to show, letting out a quiet laughing hum. you had him now…

“stand… and kiss me.”

and so he stood, his arms awkwardly at his sides, broadcasting his awful posture as he waited for your next move. from a simple swift movement, your hand met with the back of his neck, pulling him in, pressing your lips against his. the sync of your lips were soft and slow but quickly it changed by the lead of his tongue that cascaded along the bottom of yours, inhaling the hitching breath as his fingers played with the bottom of his suit jacket.

gentle grunts hummed against your flesh, opening your lips to oblige by his speed, noting the way he drank your existence in the exchange of your mouths. his tongue fluttered against yours, rolling the tip of his muscle against the ridges of your teeth, spit spilling down one another’s chins as your bodies fell closer into one another feeling the pattern of your breathing fall as one.

your leg pressed in the middle of his, feeling his bulge rub against you with a higher pitched moan being a gift of your sudden embrace.

the air was hot and heavy despite the chill from the office that hugged you both, "ride it.." you moaned in between the kiss, moving your leg in slow grinds, feeling the heat that emitted from his clothed cock weave through your work pants.

“okay…” he answered back, removing himself from the kiss as his hips started to buck forward in motion with your leg’s movement.

his body couldn’t keep up with the burning passion that continued to spread through his body, starting with the aching sensation that rested at his cock.

no words had been exchanged, only moans as if it that was the only language you both understood— the lack of light only being laminated by the moon that fell through the windows and the computer screen. your hand strengthened its grip, foreheads pressed against one another, feeling his leg fall in between your leg in the midst of his grinds.

both of you fell in lust with the eager grinds you shared, hearing the rut of clothes being rubbed against one another, his unknowing hands, placing its purpose at your hips, gripping incredibly tight, pulling you closer at every hungered thrust, your eyes gulping the color of his.

he moved his body, you whining quietly at the empty feeling of his knee. he dropped down, leveling his face at your legs, pressing kisses starting at your ankle and to your knee, moving his lips as his tongue peaked through, letting spit form and absorb in the cloth of your pants until he reached your waist.

"may i...?” he whimpered, a smile curling at your lips, nodding with his fingers making its way to your shirt, yanking it upwards which made you gasp at the sudden movement. he continued his kiss, the cold inhale of his breath washing against your skin as he pressed his lips at the lining of your peaking underwear, running his tongue alongside it.

with a deep press of his lips, he left wet marks, pressing his face into your stomach, his head dragging all the way up your torso, inhaling the sweet smell of your detergent as well as the soap that coated your skin, until he stood once again, finding your neck, taking a bite without much warning— feeling the flesh sink between the spaces in his teeth. 'so soft', he thought, letting his lips latch and suck roughly, as he used his unoccupied hand to pull your body closer to him.

his tongue rippled and rolled against the aching bitten part of your neck, popping himself off before he pressed a kiss at the hem of your ear, "is this real?" he whispered, pressing more kisses at the side of your face. it felt prosperous, feeling his lips scatter the smooth surface of your face, neck and ear— fingers prodding the side of your waist.

"can you say it… please?” releasing a sharp gasped whisper, his nose dragging along your cheek, sighing out a moan. "say…my name... i need to hear your voice.”

"james..." you exhaled, enjoying the way he wanted nothing but your time and your attention. he made you feel sexy.. desirable, like his own drug that he was unable to let go or take control of. every touch felt purposeful, hungry… soft with a strain of roughness.

"no... louder. say it... please say it louder." his words breathless, cracking each time his voice dipped in register, letting open mouthed kisses to gently press onto your skin.

"james!" your voice rose, saying it over and over at every press of his lips you felt, his moans talking back to each time he heard his name flutter from your throat. your voice felt like it was running down his spine and settling itself right at his cock. you adored how cute he was without even knowing that you wanted to devour him— the sharp want to have him crumble in your embrace.

“fuck..” he cried sweetly, his voice breaking down in harmony. you placed your hands at his shoulders pushing him down as he obeyed your forceful action, him now on his knees.

without a thought, you pressed the bottom of your shoe at his obvious bulge, pressing your weight on it, his body shuddering with his lips ajar. “tell me…” your diction sounding breathless, feeling the outline of him through the sole of your shoe, “do you think of me… while you touch yourself.” his eyes growing, surprised and slightly worried— not as if it wasn’t telling he came at the thought of you.

he couldn’t answer, only giving a harsh swallow and swiveling hips, humping into the sole of your shoe.

“come on pretty boy… answer… i know you do it.”

“yes…” he gulped, “i do… i do. all the fucking time.” he admitted, his words flowing fast with his hips coming at the same speed.

placing your foot down on the floor, he immediately straddled, hands grabbing onto your calf for support as his hips rippled and rutted deeply into you like a horned dog. whimpers roared through the office’s enclosure. he felt dizzy, drunk within the lust that spewed between you both. it was pitiful but cute— losing all forms of self just to hump on your shoe.

grasping his jaw, he looked up at you, eyebrows knitted in pleasure as his hair bounced in movement, leaning down the gather spit, letting it fall into his opened mouth. he drank it instantaneously, nodding at the new action he had never done before. your spit tasted sweet, filling his mouth with an extended tongue in need of more.

and so you did, this time more forceful, some falling at the side of his lip, falling down his jaw and chin.

something about how he acted, the way he presented himself and the way his nervousness wore him so brightly. you could hear it his voice, in his moans, see in his eyes, face and body— nothing he had in display for you showed you otherwise. cupping the side of his face as your thumb gently stroked the warmth of his cheek, making his cock jump more than it already had.

“you like that don’t you baby?”

“uh huh…” he breathed, frantically nodding, letting his eyes drape towards your lips, seeing his tongue peak through, pressing your thumb at his plush lips, dragging them loosely, until his lips would tug, allowing his teeth to peak through before leaning in closer to his until being inches apart— irregular breathing brush against your mouth, as his nose nudges gently the side of yours, kissing you roughly… wet and raw. more spit escaping, coating all over.

“can i…” he spoke in between, “can i taste you?”

and with an accepting moan, his body rose, grabbing you until you sat on his desk, the light of his computer now black and the moon being the only source of light.

opening your legs, he leaned in, his middle finger ran between your clothed, wet slit. raising his head, he looked down at you, “holy fuck… how’re you so wet? i can feel it through your pants,” he taunted, gaining a small glint of confidence.

he lifted your shirt once more, just enough to show your full stomach as he held onto your waist, pressing his lips right beneath your breast, leaving slow, teasing kisses down your body with his eyes staring right up at you. his face met up in between, spreading your thighs apart more as he let his face set right in center, pressing his nose right in the indention where his finger once was, inhaling your sweet smell before rolling his tongue over her clothed pussy. “your pussy smells so sweet.” he breathed, his fingers curling at your pants and yanking them down until you were only left with them puddled at your feet and panties hugging your waist.

his mouth latched onto your clit, slowly sucking you right over your panties, feeling your throbbing bud feather against his tongue.

sliding your panties to the side, he saw the wetness connect from your pussy lips, to your clit, running all down your slit, immediately spreading your lips apart, seeing your whole view.

“so… pretty... god i wanna fuck it with my tongue. have my tongue so deep inside you, i can feel you clench yourself. can i… can i do that?” his eyes not leaving your face, seeing the limited and minimal expression the moon’s light allowed him to see, letting his tongue run up your slit as his mouth latches on.

nothing felt more pleasurable than to see the other pleased. his fingers trembled and ached to take you all in one go, but he believed you deserved more than that, you deserved to feel it run through every inch of your body. he wanted to prove that there’s levels you could reach that’ll make you feel like ecstasy.

his body burned as if he was on fire, feeling himself twitch at every small sound that exuded from your throat. “your voice, it turns me on so fucking much...” gripping onto your thighs, his nose nudging at your clit, mouth hovering over your cunt, drawing ribbons at the entrance of your pussy. he shook his head from side to side, your sweet scent filling his airway as he felt your slick coat the sides of his lips and the tip of his nose.

his tongue plunging itself into you, feeling your cunt pulsate alongside the bud of your clit. as his tongue worked along your slit and hole, repeatedly lapping at each entrance with the flat of their tongue. your scent and flavor enveloping his entire face, like a drug, and erotic perfume that he’d gladly wear if possible. his eyes drooping into a squint, his body loosening— expect the core of his tightening abdomen from holding his breath and their increasingly hard cock. thrusting his face as he began to fuck you with his tongue, hollowing his cheeks, continuing to pay close attention to your clit. pulling back, he licked his lips, gathering spit as he spat right on your cunt, followed by a little slap, rubbing with the palm of his hand against the new tingling sensation, “was that… was that too much?” he slurred, not thinking of the impact of what he had just done with the pleasured yelp you let out.

“you’re such a dirty boy…” you laughed, your hips breaking down as it planted itself more into his desk. “keep going… show me what a horny little thing like you thinks about while you touch yourself.”

drunk of you— the taste, the smell, he could feel a pit of sensation fuel right at the bottom of his abdomen. “hump my face baby, please…use me.”

with his tongue, he lifted your clitoral hood, centering his tongue right at your clit as he fluttered it as fast as his tongue allowed him too, feeling your expose bud jolt. using his other hand, he slid one finger in, curling it slightly as he slowly let it slide in and out, feeling your walls close. the sounds you let out couldn’t be controlled, admiring how he used your body like an art piece, finding his way to use every fragment of your being, getting off to your pleasure. each knuckle falling deeper, as he started to bring up his pace. so wet, you could hear it at each pump, and god did that turn him on. “listen to your pussy baby. my god you’re so wet..”

loving the feeling of your fingers that now laced in his hair, tugging at it whenever you felt so, feeling the tingle wash from down his scalp and spine, making him groan deeply against your, feeling it almost itch his own throat. his other hand pressing firmly against your stomach, rolling it up your body as he dragged the pads of his fingers down your torso, then thigh, letting them create small indentions in your smooth skin.

he watched as you squirmed as you watched how pathetically invested he looked hooked in pleasure— him yearning for this type of attention, as if he cried for it. his eyes begged and begged, his actions looking less and less sense and out of touch of reality. your hips, not having a rhythmic move to them, just rolling and humping as his face kept up with your sloppy hips.

he slide one more finger inside, curling that one as well as his others as he turned his wrist in a circular motion, almost drilling your cunt, pushing it in and out, trying to find your sweet spot. he lifted his head, letting a string of spit and slick connect from his lips and your pussy. “keep looking at me… please don’t stop.” the sting burning at his forearm— veins now prominent running from his fingers and down wrist. your pussy making the most loudest and obnoxious noise, syncing with the pacing of his hand and mouth.

his face traveled up, his face now hovering yours, paying close attention to your expression and the way you moaned for him, furrowing his eyebrows, “yeah? does it feel good right there?” he cooed, singing with your moans which filled the space that surrounded you both. he gathered spit in his mouth once more, letting it go straight into your mouth— your hand out of his hair and to his face, holding his jaw and feeling the grooves of his teeth by how hard you held it.

“god you’re so good for me.” you grunted, eyes almost rolling at the feeling of his fingers plunging at your cunt.

gritting through his teeth, “and you drive me insane…” pressing his mouth against yours once more as he started to sloppily kiss you— your slick already coating his mouth and tip of his nose, now swallowing your moans. his breathing was erratic and his demeanor changed, feeling a sense of lustful malice grow in his body.

hurriedly, you undid his pants, slipping your hand in his underwear, taking out his hot heavy cock, his body immediately reacting with his hand holding the desk beside you for support. without hesitation, you jerked his cock, finding the same speed of his plunging fingers.

shared and eager moans radiated from you both, whiny and pathetic, desperate and conjoined— the sweet sounds of your wet slick and his skin being tugged at his cock.

“don’t stop.” he strained, already feeling himself in need to release, never being one to last longer than he wished to.

spit dripping from one another’s mouths, the tension continued to rise, the familiar sensation cradling at your core as well as his. clenching around his fingers, your thighs started to close themselves, him quickly opening them as he breathed in a choked gasp.

“are you gonna cum for me?” you teased, knowing you were right where he was, his body twitching as he nodded in response, “cum for me… do it james.”

a loud groan crept as he removed your hand, replacing it with his as he jerked his cock in a speed you had never seen from another man, directing his slit right at your clit. spurts of his cum fell right at your clit, the sight being too much for you to handle— the head from it, sliding down to his fingers as he continued his hungered pumps, an orgasm ringing around it. it creamed thickly, white cuddling at his knuckles.

both of your bodies fell weak, the speed now resting slow as you tried to gather your breaths, eyes connecting as one as you recollected all the passion that infiltrated.

“my god…” you breathed, his fingers coating in your natural nectar and his cum, inhaling your womanly scent which sent waves of pleasure directly towards his cock that started to rise again. god… did he love the way your fucking pussy smelt. it didn’t compare to your handkerchief… your bed… even your used panties. his fingers slipping out as he placed them in his mouth, each finger being sucked clean. “you’re so fucking hot…”

the intensity that fueled you both was too much to comprehend. no words being able to be spoken— james blinded by the beauty and the smell of sex that fumed in the air. after all the days of him tugging his cock, the thoughts became real.

his face hovered yours, hands cupping your cheeks as he pressed gentle kisses across your lips, “can i...” he gasped in between each kiss, heavy air pushing through his nostrils as he tried desperately not to pass out from the adrenaline and the need to feel you, overwhelm you and just make you cum from his dick. “can i fuck you…? please… please… please please please please please…” his voice cracking in between.

the need that laced in your whine transmitted through the thick of his burning skin. it was hard to contain steady breathing. mine, he thought. you were all his for the night, and it signified that you were in this very moment.

lips feathering against your chin, each kiss longer than the last, with his nose nudging up into your cheek. just from the quiet sounds you let out, your consent, your ‘okay’ to put his dick inside of you made the way he felt more intense than it already had. his fingers wrapping around the start of his shaft as he started to pump himself.

“you can tell me if you want me to fuck you slow…” he continued, cupping his hand to his lips and spitting in it, making a small puddle to coat his dick. “or if you want me to fuck you fast… tell me… tell me to keep fucking you… tell me… just talk for me… please.”

his eyes jolted down as his cock angled itself right at your opening pushing himself inside. just half of what would be his tip, focused only on you. sucking in harshly at how big he was and how he wasn’t even all the way in. with his other hand cupping the side of your face and neck, his thumb rubbing gently.

“you okay baby…?” his attention still on you, analyzing each expression you gave to make sure that he wasn’t hurting you in any shape or form, pressing a long kiss at the side of your cheek beside your ear, “im going to keep going okay…? just breathe for me…”

they pushed more, his tip fully being in your cunt. his body shuttered… you were so warm, you were tight and held him so comfortably, if you wanted him to stop right there, it’d be enough for him to cum. anything for you was enough for him. bodies slowly enveloping on another as he tried to talk to your body in a way that gave you comfort and pleasure. “more?” he breathed, it hitching as he mindlessly held his breath, pushing more of himself into you— your hot walls holding around the start of his shaft, textured and wet, with a heartbeat that almost felt as if you were sucking him in without his go.

a pornographic moan being spewed from james’ lips. the way your cunt grasped onto him, it's textured walls massaging his cock into heaven. you felt full, his dick thick— leaning towards girth— your breathing picking up in pace. you molded his cock perfectly, his hips slowly pressing himself deeper until his hole cock was enveloped in you. "goo...good boy." you tried to praise, hiccuping as your hands fell onto his shoulders.

the thrust started off slow, hiccuping almost similar to his rut against your shoe. it took a few thrusts until he finally was able to find himself— barely. each inward thrust, the desk shook, your body sliding upwards against his paperwork that scattered and crumpled.

“is this… is this okay?” his voice broken, hearing the new diction in his tone.

“faster… don’t be shy…”

you didn’t have to tell him twice, his hips momentarily stopping as he planted his feet firmly on the ground— animalistic groans combating the way his hips started to snap. each thrust, your rear puckering hole was abused by james’ balls. again and again, the loud rhythmic sound of your skin slapping. "good boy, keep fucking me. make me cum."

the tip of his dick angling in a place you were unsure about. what was this? you thought. your body was excited and you didn't know why— you didn't know how to prepare yourself. your body unable to stay still or find a place where you felt the best in stabilization, screaming his name as he finally hit that spot, your good spot.

"don't stop! don't stop! don't stop! don't—" you chanted, him hitting your g spot over and over with your pussy sucking him in deeper and deeper at each outward thrust.

"i wish i fucked you sooner, why does this feel so good?!" already having the need to cum with no intention of holding it.

you as well. you needed to cum, but you felt something new as well. the similarly feeling of you needed to 'go'.

"waitwaitwaitwait!!!" you moaned out loud, his cock slipping out with an unexpected gift being brought to both of you. you squirted. it spilling from your cunt and drenching on the both of you— your face, his work clothes and your work clothes. you had no time to react, your legs violently shook, with james hurriedly slipping in again with the same need to release centering at the opening of your cunt.

"ineeedto... i... fuhhhcking" you slurred, eyes rolling each time james pulled out, your pussy let out small spurts of your squirting cum.

"that is so fucking hot... you're so hot." james cried, tears rimming in his eyes, feeling himself having the need to cum.

one leg wrapped his waist pushing him down, rolling your hips upward even though it was all too much, but your cunt wanted more, it felt like it could cum at least one more time. grabbing your face, your lips forming a squished 'o'.

"fuck...fucking good boy." your voice fucked out.

"it feels too good… i can’t take it." he continued to wail, tears started to stream down his face. "im gonna—" he announced with one finally thrust, james let his hot load rest deep inside you.

one could say his dream was now complete, but a new question shall be asked; how will this continue? from being ‘friends’, horny individuals to fuck at work. but for now, you both continued to calm down from your high, kissing each other sweetly.

“this won’t be the last time.” you smiled triumphantly, trying to catch your breath.

a/n: i never know how to end these… but maybe there will be another part…

[auras-moonstone]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ so high school — ethan landry

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 2,2k

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: football player!ethan landry x tutor!fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: ethan is smitten with his tutor and invites her to his game. at the after party, he decides to finally confess his feelings.

ᡣ𐭩 content: tutor. football player. fluff. high school themes.

the radiant sunlight illuminated the side of y/n’s face, making her soft skin glow. ethan felt hypnotised, unable to look away or think about anything else other than how ethereal she looked. he should focus, the literature assignment was due soon and ethan still didn’t comprehend any of aristotle’s ideas. but hell, how was he supposed to concentrate when his tutor was so captivating?

“ethan landry if you don’t start paying attention-“ her poor attempt at pretending to be intimidating made him smile, she was so adorable.

“too much aristotle for today, let’s talk about something else.” ethan gave her his most charming smile.

“since i started tutoring you two months ago you’ve said that exact same sentence…” y/n made a deep thinking expression. “every. single. session.”

“and you oblige…” he copied her expression. “every single session”

“maybe you need a tutor with a firmer hand.” she joked.

“hey, if you want to punish me for being a bad student, i’m all for it.” he smirked mischievously

“if you want it, then it’s not a punishment. also, is that a kink of yours?” y/n smirked.

ethan gasped, and covered his mouth in an overdramatic way. “what a scandalous question! where’s the shy girl that walked into this very library two months ago?!”

y/n rolled her eyes and a small laugh escaped her mouth. “you’ve corrupted me.”

“let’s drive the conversation somewhere else. too many dirty jokes are going through my mind right now.” he shook his head. “let’s talk about tomorrow’s game.”

she cocked an eyebrow “what about it?”

“well, are you going alone or…?” he asked as if it were obvious

y/n laughed. “i’m not going with anyone.”

ethan tried his best to hide how relieved he was by that. “okay, cool. i can ask my sister to save a seat for you.”

“sorry, let me rephrase my sentence. i’m not going, period.” she said again.

ethan looked both betrayed and appalled as he exclaimed “but it’s a very important game!”

“eth, i adore you but i truly don’t care about football.”

butterflies fluttered all over his stomach at her words and his heart did cartwheels on his chest. “please come to my game, y/n/n.�� his big brown eyes were pleading and she was left defenseless.

puppy brown eyes were the strongest weapon ever created, and when they came with a face like ethan’s, there was no other option but to surrender.

“ugh, fine! i’ll go.” y/n groaned and ethan started cheering loudly, causing the librarian to shush him.

“sorry, ma’am. she just gave me the best news ever and i got excited, i’ll stay quiet now. i’m sorry to disturb you.”

the librarian’s angry expression turned soft and gave the football player a ‘don’t worry’ smile. well, at least y/n wasn’t the only victim of his dangerous charm.

the worst thing was that he didn’t even do it on purpose, he just naturally exuded sweetness and you could tell he didn’t held a single malicious bone in his body.

y/n’s feelings towards him were so intense and overwhelming she didn’t know what to do with them. especially with the big question hanging over in the air—after she was done tutoring him, will he still acknowledge her?

“in all seriousness,” ethan started as they exited the library and made their way to his car “you don’t have to come to the game. i mean, i want you there but not at the expense of your comfort.”

god, he made her swoon. he was the sweetest guy she had ever met. y/n felt like she was back in high school, experimenting her first crush. “i’ll be there, i swear.”

“scout’s honor?”

“scout’s honor.” she affirmed.

he smiled, satisfied. “need a ride home?” he twirled the keys on his finger, and y/n didn’t know why, but she found it insanely sexy.

“no, thanks. i feel like walking.” she smiled. “see you tomorrow. break a leg.”

“leave my legs in peace, please. i kinda need them for the match” he said, making her laugh. heat spread through his body at the sound, ethan was so gone for her. “see you tomorrow.”

and in an act of bravery, he crouched down and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek. both teenagers went home smiling as if they had won the lottery.

y/n’s hands trembled as she followed the mass of people wearing blackmore’s football jersey. her reflects were quick enough to grab a seat near the field, and soon enough the benches were full.

she looked around the open space, seeing people talking animatedly with each other and socializing while she sat there alone, with her sweaty hands rubbing against the fabric of her emerald green jeans. she felt out of place, and the scene made her realize just how lonely she was. so immersed in getting good grades, she’d forgotten to… live. to truly let herself enjoy college in all aspects.

the only friend she had made so far was because of tutoring. if it hadn’t been because ethan was awful at literature, she would be friendless. so she sucked it up and locked away the urge to go back home. ethan wanted her there, and she didn’t want to disappoint her only friend. if this was important to him, then the bench was were she needed to be at the moment.

a hand on her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts, and when she turned her head to the side, a bit startled, finding two green eyes and bright orange hair.

“sorry! didn’t mean to scare you. y/n, right?” the gorgeous red-head asked.

shooting her eyebrows up in surprise, y/n nodded. “yes… do we know each other?”

“yes, well, no. we’ve never met, but my brother talks about you non-stop.” she smiled sweetly. “i’m quinn.”

ethan’s sister, her brain screamed, and she tried to keep her cool “oh, hi. nice to meet you.”

“ethan said, well, more like hoped, you were coming. he mentioned this was not your scene, so we saved you a seat with us so you wouldn’t be alone.”

y/n blushed and her heart melted at the thoughtfulness. she didn’t know who quinn meant by ‘we’, but she was grateful nonetheless.

ethan’s friends greeted her like she was one of their own, and they mentioned countless times how ethan would talk their ears off about her.

“there’s ethan!” tara told her, pointing at the tall man with the number 13 on his back.

ethan was always beautiful, but when he was in his element the word ‘beautiful’ felt short. she couldn’t find the words to explain just how mesmerizing ethan was in his football gear and with a cheshire cat smile on his tailored face.

the people in the stands cheered for the quarterback, and y/n joined in once the shyness faded away. then ethan caught her eye, and if he was glowing before that, now his joy was blinding.

he jogged towards her, wanting to talk to her before the game started. her heart beating faster and faster with every step he made. and when ethan reached her, they both stared at each other with love sick smiles and cheek pinks accentuated by the twinkling lights.

“you came.” he said in a mix of relief and gratefulness

“of course i did, you wanted me here, didn’t you?”

“more than anything else.” he replied sweetly. but then the coach started to yell at him to get back to the field. “sorry, gotta go. but thank you for coming, i’ll see you at the after party”

he ran back to his teammates, who greeted him with whistles and playful shoves which made ethan turn ever redder. but he didn’t care about his friends’ teasing, he was on cloud nine and he was determined to make this game the best he’s ever played. for y/n.

the stands of blackmore university erupted in cheers the second the board indicated the end of the final game of the season. the team lifted the star player of the game over their heads as they screamed in victory.

once his feet hit the floor again, ethan turned his head towards his people, to find them hugging each other enthusiastically. even y/n was embraced by his friends and that filled his heart with happiness.

“let’s go, captain. we gotta shower, then you can meet your girl.”

my girl, he replayed those words in his head. yes, that sounded just right, and he only hoped y/n agreed.

it was a little over an hour later when the team finally arrived at the party, greeted with applauses and pats on the back. the quarterback’s brown eyes scanned the crowded room, wanting to find the person he had been longing for two months exactly. he was going to do it. tonight, he was pouring his heart out.

“woah!” the boy exclaimed at the same time a familiar voice said “sorry”. they both smiled instantly when they realized they’d bumped into each other. “hi!” they said, and then laughed.

“you were amazing, ethan! my heart suffered a lot every time you were tackled, but it was quite a match.”

“thanks, y/n. i’m really happy you were there, wasn’t sure you’d show up.”

“you know i could never say no to you, ethan.” she said softly

ethan flushed and felt the courage rushing through his veins “y/n i’ve been meaning to tell you… i know we only met two months ago but-“

“ethan! the man of the hour. great game, bro!” one of his classmates interrupted, and just like that the moment was lost.

“thanks, bro.” ethan forced a smile. then took a quick look at y/n, who was standing awkwardly. “if you excuse me, we’re going to get some fresh air.” the classmate nodded and left, leaving the two of them alone again. but the courage had vanished as well as the little speech ethan had in mind. “i’m sorry about that.”

“hey, no. i get it.” she seemed sincere so ethan relaxed a bit. “what were you saying?” she asked

ethan shook his head. “i don’t want to get interrupted again, let’s go outside.”

but just when they thought they could sneak out, one of his teammates caught sight of him and yelled his name, causing the attention to fall on them.

ethan sighed in frustration, but dragged his feet towards the circle of people nonetheless, he was too good to say no. maybe that was one of his flaws.

"join us, landry" chad said

ethan and y/n sat and the boy shoot her an apologetic smile. in response, she sneakily placed her hand above his and squeezed in reasurance. "what were you doing?" ethan asked the group

"marry, kiss or kill." one of the cheerleaders answered. y/n definitely didn't like the way she smiled all flirty at ethan. "lucy, your tutor and me."

wow, dignity left the chat, y/n thought as a wave of embarrassment rushed through her body.

"where are we? in high school?" ethan rolled his eyes. "i'm not answering."

"come on, it's just a game" the blond insisted

"let's play something else" chad intervened, trying to save his friend.

"guess he didn't want to hurt his tutor's feelings" one of the cheerleaders said not to discreetly, and her friends giggled.

now y/n remembered why this wasn't her scene.

"let's play spin the bottle!" she heard tara said, but y/n was trying really hard not to show how the words had hurt. was it so crazy to think ethan could see her as more than his tutor or friend?

on the other hand, ethan was not going to let those girls humiliate y/n. besides, he wasn't ashamed to show how down bad he was for her. "you guys play, y/n and i are going outside. we have some things to talk about." ethan said with a suggestive smirk and chad whistled, making y/n's cheeks turn a deep shade of pink. she couldn't lie and say the glares she didn't feel satisfied at the glares the cheerleader threw her when ethan entwined their fingers.

"fucking finally" he said contently, sitting in a hammock. "been wanting to get you alone since i saw you standing in that bench."

she pressed her lips together, trying not to smile too wide "well, i was enjoying the view there."

"oh, yeah? what view?"

"football players in their uniforms"

ethan frown in displeasure "players? the 's' should be left out"

"it wouldn't be grammatically correct then." she teased

"hmm" he clenched his jaw

y/n laughed "i'm just messing with you, idiot." then took a deep breath before admitting, "i only have eyes for you, ever since i walked into that library two months ago, there's only been you."

he smiled like the love sick puppy y/n had turned him into and leaned down until the tip of their noses brushed. "i have been pretty obvious, but i want to be clear--i'm crazy about you. knew i wanted you since the very first day. be my girlfriend, y/n/n."

her eyes shone like fireworks. "yes, yes, yes."

"woah, okay, someone's eager." ethan teased her

"shut the fuck up."

"this is the part where i say 'make me', right? and then you kiss the fuck out of me."

"god, you're insufferable. you're lucky i like you so damn much."

"i like you, too. please put me out of my misery and kiss me." he pouted adorably.

"first you gotta answer the question"

"what?" he asked confused

"are you going to marry, kiss or kill me, landry?" she smiled

"i'm betting on all three for us two, y/n." he said, and finished melting her heart.

[willowpains]

season 1 release

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

liked by madelyncline and other 462,611.

ynusername SEASON 1 OF OUTER BANKS IS OUT BABY!!! you don’t wanna miss it☀️🏴‍☠️🐚

see comments.

user1 I finished it in one sitting? it’s so good!

user2 is it worth it?

user3 so so so worth it, you should give it a try!

hichasestokes POGUES 4 LIFE

user4 latin representation? definitely gonna watch

madelyncline prettiest island girl

user5 wait I didn’t know she was latina!

user6 yuppp, I actually loved seeing they went into her mexican background in the show

user7 the fact she’s truly mexican born and raised, LOVE HER ALREADY

drewstarkey the orange sunglasses are fire

yourbestie SISISI la más orgullosa de ti<3

madisonbaileybabe second pic was an epic day!

user8 imma need Netflix to renew this show

obx WE LOVE OUR GIRL LUNA

user9 ok this show is so good I’m invested

user10 her character kinda has tension with rafe ngl

ynusername has posted on her story

madelyncline replied to your story

wait that film photo is amazing

you’re missing in it though:(

madisonbaileybabe replied to your story

omg that is literally your personality pic LMAO

drewstarkey replied to your story

learn how to swim

liked by jonathandavissofficial and other 3,568,901.

obx a little love for one of our favorite pogue princesses: LUNA🌙🥥🌺

see comments.

user11 LOVE HER

user12 she’s an absolute goddess

yourcousin mi personaje favoritoooo

user13 ugh I hate her character sm

user14 right like idk why everyone likes her

user15 y’all are just jealous

yourbestie obsesionada con ella

user16 DIOSA MEXICANA

ynusername amamos a luna<3

user17 without her the pogues would be lost

user18 fr she saved all their asses more than once

user19 and they would be so bored too

madisonbaileybabe pogue sister

user20 she has the funniest lines as well as jj, I was tearing up laughing at their fights

rudeth she knows what’s up

liked by austinnorth55 and other 763,820.

drewstarkey glad to know everyone’s enjoying obx, had to drop these bangers I took from behind the scenes📸 @ynusername

see comments.

hichasestokes that’s her 99% of the time

user21 LMAO she’s so me

ynusername no you didn’t

ynusername HOW DARE YOU

drewstarkey not my fault you fell asleep everywhere

user22 we love a pair of pretty besties

user23 damn filming must’ve been tiring

madelyncline I have some funny ones too, let’s share!

ynusername not you too

user24 how is she still pretty even drooling?

user25 wait she’s so relatable

madisonbaileybabe second pic is a mood

user26 omg I love you two on the show!

user27 I kinda ship them

user28 wait you might be onto something

jonathandavissofficial LOL

user29 I’m a y/n protector

user30 oh she’s my fave

liked by jonathandavissofficial and other 999,528.

ynusername tomfoolery by yours truly🫣

see comments.

user31 YES YES YES

user32 pls keep feeding us with content

madelyncline I’m the life of the party

user33 I love this cast so much, I wanna be their friend

user34 I know right? they look like they love each other

user35 I wanna party out with them tbh

drewstarkey I see you’ve gotten your revenge

ynusername I’m not done yet

user36 your honor I love them

user37 y/n thank you for your service ma’am

ynusername anytime🫡

rudeth paparazzi

user38 I cannot wait for them to announce a second season

obx our favorite people!

madisonbaileybabe truly iconic

user39 I can confidently say this is my new favorite show

user40 I’m addicted to outer banks I cannot stop rewatching

ynusername has posted on her story

hichasestokes replied to your story

a war has been declared

madelyncline replied to your story

LMAO

I love you

drewstarkey replied to your story

oh it’s ON

*

first social media post for latina actress universe!

I really wanna incorporate a little bit of everything sooo let me know if you like it but I kinda really love this<3

[esccpism]

[…] love is my religion—I could die for that.

it’s valentine’s day. ceo!ambessa gifts you flowers.

abstract: ambessa wants you. more: she wants you to chase. the problem is the time it takes—you’re a tough nut to crack, and the woman has never been good at waiting.

cw: ceo!ambessa x assistant!reader, groping, kissing, shy ambessa for .002 secs but don’t tell anyone, sub/dom themes, corporal punishment (r!reader), voyuerism, ambessa has you masturbate in front of her, older woman x younger woman, reader is fat/plus sized

wc: 3.9k

fic inspired by this artwork by @/RoseYSD13 on twitter. heart skipped like 12 full beats. header inspired by the lovely @hcneymooners.

the year marches onwards.

if you catch the day early enough, time seems to pause and suspend; a breath you could almost hold in your hand.

it’s four in the morning—and so ambessa changes in her office today. and you stand, staring forward, only stealing glances when her back is turned.

she gets ready for as long as two hours, at times, when it’s early enough and the preliminary steps of her routine haven't already been run through at her home. such days are rare. she’s perfect in every other instance, she’s perfect even now. skin and scars, tight and flexible, choking up the room with her overpowering perfume. 

you don’t know why she allows you to guard her incompletion. but then again, you’re fresh, and new. you aren’t worth much to her at all.

“haven’t i taught you manners, child?”

your eyes snap back to position. she hasn’t turned even a modicum, but of course it’s a gamble worth taking—her muscles practically ripple like water. the sun simmers against her skin. it’s asking the impossible to not watch them stretch and contract as she bends. 

you allowed yourself it and nothing else, avoiding the dip low in her back where safety ends and the curve of her ass begins. 

“come,” she beckons, “and help me out of this suit.”

you bob your head, and no hair spills out of your tight bun this time. 

dress shoes click and reverberate in the wide and endless room, traveling ages before bouncing off the walls. she says nothing and so neither do you. the time passes, you can tell only by the morning waking outside. unbuttoning the corset becomes your primary objective and you do it with steadfast attention, ignoring her stomach tensing each time your fingers brush the vulnerable skin. ignoring her stomach entirely. ignoring the fact she is wearing no bra underneath and how her full breasts swell towards you beseechingly. 

when you finish unraveling the intricate set of satin ribbons and pull the heavy fabric away from her torso, she lets you fold it neatly and place it atop her desk before pressing in, correcting your posture for you. 

a hand tickles your stomach, finger under your chin, raising your line of sight until it meets with hers. 

”don’t steal glances. i won’t remind you again.” 

you nod as best as you can. your post might be fucked—though you don’t have a moment to let the grief wrack through you. “take wholly, or not at all. i won’t have any nibbling around me.” 

gripping now, ambessa carries your chin and levels it so you are staring directly at her bare body. 

“tell me. what are you feeling?”

“satisfaction, ma’am. i am honored to learn from you, and happy i was able to be of service to you.”

she sighs, and tuts. ”i told them to get rid of that stupid training video. i don’t want a robot tending to me. do you understand me?”

you nod. no hesitation, because she hates the scent, smells it like a dog smells fear. 

“once more.” she relaxes your face and steps to your right, curls around you like a lioness circling its prey. “what are you feeling?”

”curiosity.” your eyes flicker to follow her, then keep straight ahead.

“around?”

“around you, ma’am.”

“good girl.” she stops her orbit directly in front of you, and drags her seat over. leans back, body open, legs spread. “satiate it.”

you pat your hands briefly on your dress pants—she interjects with a wily smile, “don’t be afraid, dear.” and you bite back an i’m not before it snaps from you, sharp as a knife.

you sink forward, distantly aware of your hanging cleavage. growing far more aware from how unabashedly she stares at it. you trail your nails down from her ear lobe, across her neck, watch her shiver at the pressure on her throat. you dip then, and politely squeeze her tit in your hand.

she scoffs, and then laughs, a tinkling, rich, barberry sound. 

“callow,” she says. “you search like you are reading off my monthly estimates. have you no hunger?”

“i have hunger,” you retaliate, eyes alight. you pinch, and her brows flicker, arching into the pain near imperceptibly. 

“but my job does not demand my hunger, ma’am. it only requires that i compartmentalize.” quite literally. you retract your hand and fold it behind you. ”allow me to return to my work.”

she leans her head back, face unreadable as she takes you in. seconds pass, and then the cloud passes as well. she waves you off, sounding bored. “very well. i’ll call you should i need you again.”

⚘

she tends to need you often.

it would seem actually, that she couldn’t do anything by herself were you to be zapped away tomorrow.

she enjoys when you pull the chair out for her, and requests it each time she returns to her desk. says heartily that it makes her feel regal. the cafe on the ground floor has a daily special that she orders three of, at three separate times in the afternoon, sending you on a fourth trip with a lofty tip for the barista should she have enjoyed all three instances. the lines are unbearably long, since the coffee tends towards being delicious. you make the fourth trip often.

her write ups, the real work: which loan repayment negotiations are still underway—there are many—and which partnering fell through—there are many. getting cussed out over the phone on her behalf. day trips across the city and long nights bent over blue light and ass-early mornings, awake even before the sun.

it’s…a demanding job, at its worst. 

work breaks are terse at their best, and your coworkers are a restless bunch. they ask you questions, hoping the pressure will, at what is perhaps the 20,001st attempt, eventually give way. 

ruler with an iron fist. does she even have emotions pulsing in there? you must’ve seen it, seen her slip. it’s psychopathic, how she’s so good at smiling. a wolf trying to hide its teeth. 

here, these people, they don’t nurture expression. self wilts and dies here. that’s what got you at her side in the first place. you were always so loud, anyway, always too much. your mother told you to swallow yourself before the earth tears open its mouth and does it for you.

so you swallow, and you keep your teeth together, and you don’t say a word.

they’re right. you have seen it. ambessa’s smile befalls you often, and her touch is kind, when it grazes the small of your back. 

she takes like a tyrant. she desires unceasingly. this you know. 

you leave an afternoon with her mangled or otherwise changed, fundamentally at the parts. she so easily finds the fleshy soft of your belly, where it gives way with no resistance, and wraps a jaw around it. settles down to the marrow. your training was this, over and over, every mundane afternoon. eaten and spat back out. you’d be lucky to leave the night with any part of you still intact. 

it was meant to make you human—this you couldn’t understand. i don’t want a robot tending to me, she’d instructed.

tell me. what do you feel?

what your coworkers don’t acknowledge is that absolute deference weakens in the face of idiosyncrasies. it's far more effective to strip a thing naked and leave it trembling out in the cold—completely numb the senses. a tyrant cannot rule a person. your brain must be empty so that they might squirm inside. 

ambessa does not squirm. 

she digs. afternoons change and shift, not yet stretching towards the light, but stretching nonetheless.

you pick inside yourself and place it down before ambessa—at her bequest: your runaway mother, how you hadn’t cried at your brother’s funeral, your bite-sized calico, your tamagotchi collection—and she watches every item splayed like a buffet with a fever that warms, that singes—you nearly snatch yourself back from the simmering air, afraid to lose yourself in her belly. to the licking flame of her tongue. 

her hand extends across the table. it crosses the sheets of daily agendas and your laptop and the stack of reports, crosses seas towards you. she lands softly on your chin, and travels to cradle your cheek.

“are you happy here?” she unloads.

“of course, ma’am.”

her frown makes a hearth of her face. “give me the honest answer.”

“here at this position, or here with your fingers taking my face?”

“either,” she says, lowly. “both,” she corrects. 

you ease a foot on the gas pedal. you aren’t sure what’s gotten into you, but it drums in your thighs like a second heartbeat. ”then, if i said i wasn't?”

she’s silent, and then her hand slips off. the heat follows her, and your body creaks forward before your brain catches up. chasing. 

“then i would release you.” she folds her hands. “and i wouldn’t allow anyone else to have you.”

“i would no longer be yours, ma’am.”

“i may have no use for a pet with reservations, that does not mean i could stand someone else having what i can’t.”

“then must i repeat myself, too?”

the air quivers. the admission breaks inside your chest. her smile curls tight inside you and doesn’t let go. 

“indulge me.”

“i’m happy here,” you indulge her. you really say—i’m happy it’s you. you press it into the gaping, leaking space between you, right next to your stewn out innards and idiosyncrasies. right to where her fingers fold on the table. “you’ve got a hand like a fireplace. i don’t mind when you touch, or when you take. above everything it’s the warmth i feel first.”

⚘

the pet names begin shortly thereafter. 

only in private, but strong contenders each time—

would you fetch me another coffee, pet?

ah, my pretty dove. you’ve cleaned up sharply today.

come closer, little one. sit. there’s space for you, and i want you near me. 

each cuts accordingly, chips at you in intentional ways. she’s relentless and unmerciful. she drags you around and does so easily; you bend for her like a lily. under her strong hands she directs you how to stand during meetings, at what angle to arch when pouring her drinks, at what angle to bow at each of her contemporaries as they enter.

she’s sat with her legs splayed, gaze sharp as she pushes in between your shoulder blades. a shudder slides down through the tendon until your knees threaten collapse. 

”head low, and shoulders squared, little lamb. even in civility don’t forget whose you are.” 

you couldn’t, not with the dents her fingers press into the tumbling skin of your back. it’ll surely leave marks. it’s only fair.

⚘

ambessa smiles when you enter—she always had, but these are toothier as of late, more disarming. you are startled by them each time. 

you offer her one back that probably more closely resembles a wince, and then duck your head and the indignant flush that rises.

⚘

”i’ve brought coffee,” she announces with gusto, swishing in one morning. the pinks and lilacs outside grace the silhouette of her broad shoulders as she swoops down to place one of two in front of you. “tell me if it’s to your liking, so i may have someone replace it if not.”

your mouth unhinges, staring up at her dumbly. “ma’am—coffee runs are my job.”

“and an overly drab one. i didn’t know the lines were so long.”

she waits expectantly, and with a start you reach for the cup, hesitating, slowly tipping it back. it tingles on your tongue—spice and caramel. she watches it slide down your throat with rapt interest, eyes finding yours immediately when you settle the cup back down. 

“it’s—good. it’s delicious.”

her grin spreads like wildfire. ”i’ll have them preserve it on the menu. it will be our daily order.”

“ma’am,” you try helplessly, but she pushes forward, leaning her weight on the desk.

she towers, casting a harsh shadow as the sun erects behind her. she might be glowing, or maybe it’s your eyes crossing as she tips over, far too close. ambessa dabs at the corner of your lip, carefully moving around your makeup and the mauve paint to your mouth. 

“you’ve a stain, pet.”

her carefulness promptly exits her body through parted lips as she pushes, slipping her thumb into your mouth.

your body jumps. ambessa’s eyes lid as she regards you. “clean it off,” she says.

no hesitation. your tongue snakes out and wraps around the thick digit, suctioning softly. her large hand swallows the line of drool that escapes. 

she pops it out, stained now with worse than mere coffee. 

“you were saying?”

heart thundering in your throat, you slowly shake your head, swallowing around a newly dried mouth. “‘wasn’t. ma’am.”

she smiles. reaches sideways for your tissue box, and draws away.

⚘

in a turn of events, ambessa has you over her lap—fifteen strokes for standing too closely behind an attendee.

she says it’s because he’s a propagandist, how do you think it looks having my attendant whine herself against my biggest proponent? but her voice had clipped sharply and she'd demanded you untuck your chin from your chest and lower your skirt and recount exactly how it had happened.

her hand collides with the bare flesh of your ass, and it ripples, sharp singing through you at the point of contact. you gasp out, a strangled thing. she shushes you quietly, soothing the bruising spot. 

”how did he feel against your cunt? hm?”

her finger slips, just grazing just grazing the damp folds through the thick pulp of your thighs. you whimper softly, pushing back against her touch.

”like nothing at all,” you pant, “ma’am.”

“i was under the impression you were happy here.” it’s sudden as a thunder clap, her hand lands again, and your body locks with divine will so as not to rock forward on the muscle of her thigh. 

your voice breaks around a hiccup. you wish you hadn’t in you to be embarrassed, but all there is is ambessa. she overtakes and overloads. even the cold walnut desk smells of her. “yes ma’am. i am very happy here.“

“then display it to me better.”

you nod, tearily, frantically. your face buried in your folded arms makes it hard for your yes’m to make itself intelligible. ambessa doesn’t mind. isn’t finished.

“anything you need you must receive from me. understand? your robust pain, your inane pleasures. only through me.”

her hand presses against your back, testing your state, and your breathing jumps and shudders under her fingers. she coos softly, gracing them up your back and carding her fingers through your hair, massaging at the scalp.

“i’m going to sit you up, sweet girl. let me see your face.”

you’re all over her thigh when she lifts you. you gape, she gazes. swipes at your slick and licks it into her mouth.

“would you like me to handle it?”

“no, ma’am, i’m terribly sorry—i’m not sure what came over me—“

”if you wish to handle it yourself,” she interrupts, and swings her arm out before her, gesturing at a low seated sofa and pile of pillows, “sit right there where i can see you.”

her legs rest eagled, arms bent over her knees, eyes ravenous as she watches you pound your fingers into yourself. your moans jump out stilted and quiet. it’s not enough, it’s nowhere near enough. you need her inside you. you know she could stretch you out so good.

it’s chasing you, it’s chasing you, and your body rolls into your stuttering fingers, your heel reaching pathetically for your clit. 

“such a good girl,” ambessa murmurs.

and the moan bubbles out of you like a wail, body climbing towards heaven as your orgasm ascends on you. white hot crashing waves you ride yourself through, hips jumping and twitching until you collapse back into yourself. pleasure tingling in you like an aftertaste.

she strides over immediately, presses a kiss to the top of your head. leaves and return, cleans you off with a warm, wet hand towel and dresses you with fresh clothing, helping your hands through the sleeves, slow and deliberate. she says nothing the whole while. so you say nothing in return. 

when she’s finished and she’s satisfied, she sits you in front of a hearty meal.

it’s still hot and you don’t know when she had called for it—but you’re drained and you're grateful, and you take her kindness without complaint.

ambessa sits across from you, watches you eat. satisfaction smoothes her face out. 

“are you happy here, little one?”

you glance up from your fork of chicken. she cradles you with her eyes.

it’s a given that you won’t report tonight. too many HR violations to count and technically it’d be your job to file and forward them all. you’ll have to reach for the CCTV footage as well, aware contemporaries come with varying intentions. you know the footage will not be bad at all. it was merely a brush, a push, a passing by—and you know it will not matter. just as it had not tonight.

despite it all stillness resides in you. just the way you like it.

“yes, ma’am. i’m happy.”

⚘

your work continues as usual. her hands remain gentle. you remember them on your body like the frozen earth remembers spring. 

⚘

“i’d like your opinion,” her voice sings through the air, and you rise from your chair to indulge her. “which of these three do you believe suits me better?”

you hum, crossing your arms over your chest. it delights her, and mirth dances in her eyes.

“mahogany, as always. brings out your eyes.”

she lets the other two fold over her arm. ”well. aren’t you a sweet talker.”

”i’ll adjust my speech with you if you enjoy it, ma’am.“

“watch yourself,” she points. after a moment you allow yourself a little grin, one she drinks in and guzzles, exhaling sharp. berating on hold, too busy grinning back.

⚘

she wants you, and she leaves it scattered all over the place. makes it so obvious as to practically scream it from every rooftop.

she stares, she appears around your desk, hovers, frets when you are dressed too light for the weather—frets. the iron fisted tyrant. too warm to let you numb to the cold.

ambessa continues to change in front of you again and again, now with your added commentary. she welcomes your input, lets you see every curve of her breast and dip in her stomach���eyes follow you like incandescent light, curiosity, or more so daring your gaze to dip, to explore. to devour like a rabid tongue. 

shouting from the rooftops without hearing herself echoed back isn’t something she’d ever commit to long, anyway. 

ambessa grows increasingly frustrated with your fastidiousness and pushes and presses inwards. suffocates, encircles. as she does.

“i wasn’t trained for massages,” you tell her in vain. it verges on complaint, and she waves it off.

“you weren’t trained for many things, yet you hold up excellently.”

it’s high praise, she knows what she’s doing. your cheeks bruise, anyway.

“if you wish to be paid for it, i can arrange that.“

“no payment.” you say. “…ma’am. it stains it.”

“ah.” her head tips back, catches your gaze, a small smile at her mouth at the fluster in your face. “i see.”

with sleeves rolled to your elbows, your hands work her shoulders. dips into her sharp clavicle, unwinds and unravels the string of muscle and the plate of bone.

“lower, dove.” she crumbles under your touch, and your chest pangs where her silvery, pillowy coils tickle your stomach, as she sags into you. “deeper. you’ve the arms for it. i won’t break.“

she’s broken already. fragments of her spill supple into your hands, drenching your fingertips, caking under your nails. she melts like candle wax and swallows the flame. 

it’s a simple revelation, and nothing that you hadn’t known. she’s beautiful. nips the breath right out of your lungs. you know she’d gleam if you told her—and so you do, rehearsing her lines in your head the microsecond before she acts them each out, a tensing, a shifting, a pleasant hum, rising in pitch. pride, preening like a bird. a charmed grin about her. 

like water in a river. she’s predictable these days, but you’ll keep that one for yourself. 

⚘

february marches onwards.

a quirk of her’s you’ve noticed: she decorates for every holiday without fail, even the ones she does not formally celebrate. 

you would wonder what sub-intelligent lick your coworkers have to offer about it if you were given the chance to think at all.

you sign out of your laptop that night and step through the sliding doors the next morning, bright and early and instantaneously the bursts of red and gold slap you right in the face, just as if you’d stumbled into the sun. 

every floor is like this, until you reach hers—and she’s waiting for you, the most flabbergasting yet—and swathed in her arms is a bouquet of red carnations and roses.

your stunned gaze picks out a single golden rose among the bloodbath. it’s an unimportant detail. but her face waits right above it, and you don’t know yet what to do with that.

“thank you for the hard work,” she starts, extending the garden towards you. “you’ve been a good employee.”

you stare. ambessa hates hesitation, you know this, but your head and your heart pull pitilessly in opposite directions with you inbetween, tearing like a piece of paper down the middle. 

with steeled hands you relieve it from her, and have to hoist it against your body—you aren’t as strong as she is. 

“why?”

“take it as an investment. you strengthen me, my vision. my life’s work. i hope to rely on you for a long time.”

you search for a tell on her face, but she gives you nothing. exasperation enters your voice as a last ditch effort. 

“a note on my desk would have sufficed.”

“do you know me to merely ’suffice’?” ambessa crosses her arms, shoulders rising towards the ceilings, like you’re the one being difficult. “read between the lines, dear.”

“i am. it’s why i’m asking why.”

she exhales. raises her chin. “and i’ve told you. personal afflictions.” she gestures towards it, arms waving vaguely before folding back under her chest. “i wasn’t—sure what color you might like.”

her arms unfold as if relenting, relinquishing—bearing her chest open. she leans back to regard you, hands supporting her weight behind her. the words are quiet and cut thin through the air. 

“are you dissatisfied?”

“no. never, ma’am. never with you.”

you stare at her, then down at the flowers you can barely peek over, then back at her, across her face, her neck beginning to resemble the bouquet the wider the silence expands—and—and—

you extend your hand to her arm, reaching blindly until you land, and her bicep tenses once under your touch. 

“just hungry.” your eyes flicker to her lips. 

she sinks into you like a feeding wolf. you aren’t sure where the flowers crash to, you don’t care. her mouth is as the rest of her—tender and all consuming. you offer yourself to her as a sacrifice, whimpering as you crumple in her arms. her skin smells overwhelming under your hands, her face cradled by your shaking fingers—of creamy vanilla, of baby powder and fresh sheets, enchanting, clothes drenched in amber accord. powerful and near unbearable and expanding like a balloon in your throat.

the urgency rises like a migraine, the need to gasp for air. gently, you shove it back down. not now, you whisper to your weeping heart. more important matters at hand.

©esccpism

RAHHHHHH thank you so much for reading. she’s perfect. i want her to bend me like a plastic fork.

[icanfixthempolls]

In honor of @isuggestforcefem’s Forcefem February (thank you for your service, ma’am), for the rest of this month, fixing a character means feminizing them unless you specifically state otherwise. Have fun girlypops!