#like. on paper i get it but how is it any different from being attracted to talking objects

[scarycranegame]

based yellow face fucker. literally no one else gets it when i say he's hot. i live that fat fuck

OH MY GOD STAPLIY FROM AO3 HIII :DDD its such an honor to see u in my inbox im a huge fan of your stuff ^^

anyways FINALLY SOMEONE ELSE UNDERSTANDS.. literally all anyone ever posts abt him is "omg the silly!!" and like. huh. what. is no one else seeing what im seeing here. did nobody else look at him and instantly go "yeah its that one. i want that one". like.. come ON guys he's literally the perfect tumblr sexyman (especially now that hes more Evil™)

and yeah there's that gijinka of him that everyone talks about (you know the one. im sure) but it just. is not the same. he's not a skinny twink. there's no need for him to be skinny. everything we need is right here. love is stored in the yellow face...

[snekdood]

ppl need to stop equating being messy with being unhealthy

[oceantornadoo]

where you’ve been assigned to working with john price on a report and the proximity is getting to you both…

(f!reader)

-

late nights pouring over reports in the base conference room with price. he tries to bring you coffee the second night and adjusts to black tea after watching the displeased twist of your lips. you start across the table, a respectful and professional distance, but by the third night, you’re shoulder to shoulder, peering over at each other’s screens silently. the information you’re reviewing is grave, life changing to the folks who live it, but you can’t help your laugh when john struggles to turn a pdf into a word document.

you give up on wearing business professional after the incident. the rip of your skirt as you jumped up from excitement, finally finding a breakthrough in your work. john’s eyes practically burned into your thigh, like the sight of your tights over newly bare skin offended him. you didn’t even notice until he pointed it out, swallowing thickly as he muttered “got a problem there, love.” before excusing himself to bring back more tea.

when you switched to wearing jeans, john started wondering if he had offended some sort of god in the past life. why was there so much bending involved in your work? bending over the table to find a report in the mess of papers, your ass practically wiggling in his face. sneaking past his shoulder so you can see if he’s made any progress, the glimpse of your thigh off the chair reminding him of what it would like if- never mind. he swore your perfume was laced into your clothes, a cloud of it remaining after you went home for the night, your familiar scent searing itself into the back of his brain.

“john?” your voice pulled him out of his trance of wondering how he’d gotten here. it had been a week of this proximity torture with no end in sight. “yeah?” your pen tapped the picture in front of you. “this guy’s copying your muttonchops.” snorting, john leaned over, staring hard at the suspect’s picture as he tried not to focus about being six inches from your lap. “nah, ‘s a different style. mine’s more grown out, his is jus’ a shadow.” you hummed thoughtfully. “didn’t realize there was so much discourse in the beard community. seems a bit confusing.” he laughed, that short bark that made you smile despite yourself.

“‘s not all that confusing. here, y’ can feel the difference.” he grabbed your hand and pulled it into his beard, manicured fingers diving into his facial hair. you scratched it on instinct and were rewarded with a low throaty groan and a fluttering of his eyelids. “so soft, john.” the normally serious captain seemed like putty in your hands as your fingers explored the line of his jaw. it was quiet for a long moment, john’s eyes closed as you took him in without his usual surly stare. “yeah, honey?” his eyes flicked open as you stopped your movement, thumb near the corner of his mouth. your mouth gaped open, the moment broken.

“fuck, i’ve made you uncomfortable.” john pulled away fast, your hand dropping his face as he moved farther and farther away. “i can ask the lieutenant to finish up ‘ere, should only take a week more.” he tried to get up from his seat but you were more determined, beating him to the punch with a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down. “john, stop. it’s okay.” you’d never seen him like this: unsure. “didn’t mean to say what i said, love.” you shook your head vehemently. “it’s okay, i just…no one’s ever called me honey before. kinda thought it was a sitcom thing.”

he was doing the math, picking apart every word you said, every inflection of every letter. you could see it in his eyes, the realization that you weren’t uncomfortable. the change might have scared you if hadn’t been so damn attractive. his posture perfect again, thighs flexing as his hands, big calloused hands, laid relaxed against them. he wasn’t grinning but you saw his cheek pull up, the movement of the beard you’d just been touching. it was instantaneous; the captain was back.

“and?” he stood up, your hand still on his shoulder. “and…i don’t mind it.” he was forcing you to look up, a height difference between you that you’d never notice because you both were always sitting.

“c’mere, honey.” you stepped closer, your other arm wrapping around his other shoulder. those hands wrapped around your waist and dipped lower to your upper thighs. he picked you with ease, all protests of your weight dying on your tongue as you let out a squeal. john sat you on the conference table, pushing reports and laptops out of the way to make space for his meal. “fuck, ‘ve been wantin’ you on this table for a week now.” he rubbed his hands up and down your thighs, tracing the denim of your pants. “and these jeans.” you frowned. “you don’t like my jeans?” he shook his head, thumbs exploring your waistline, tucking under your shirt to meet bare skin. “i love ‘em, darling. want t’ see you in them everyday.” he popped the top button then looked up at you for permission. you nodded, lying back on your forearms, restraining your hips from canting.

he chuckled at your confidence, unzipping you then sliding down the denim from your legs and off, along with your shoes. maybe it had been a form of manifestation or delusion, but either way you had worn your favorite pair of lacy black underwear. john seemed to appreciative, growling at the sight as his fingers brushed over your clothed pussy. “were you expectin’ someone t’ see these?” you grinned. “maybe i was hoping.” he brushed over your entrance and your hips chased the feeling, riding up to meet his fingers. “someone’s eager.” he didn’t let you reply, pressing his thumb over your entrance, rubbing up and down around your clit as wetness pooled in your underwear. you whined at his teasing, a coil building low in your stomach. “john…” he dipped his thumb under the fabric of your underwear, tracing the slickness of your slit. “hm, honey?” his low tone sent a rush of warmth into your body, a combination of domesticity and restraint. “want you, please.” he was playing down, putting his thumb inside you but knowing the angle was all wrong, it barely brushing your entrance. “want me where?” he finally pulled down your underwear, leaning his body over you, putting you face to face. “want your fingers inside me.”

john captured your lips with his own, pushing a thick middle finger into you as he pressed his thumb to your clit. you moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him in further. “so wet f’ me, baby. you been wantin’ this?” you nodded eagerly, shutting him up with another kiss. he pumped his finger in and out as he circled patterns on your clit, the feeling of it overwhelming. you were so wet and hot, this big strong man panting into your mouth as he made you feel so good. your nipples scratched the inside of your bra as your cunt clenched around his finger. he added a second one, the fullness of it almost overwhelming. “john, i’m gonna…” he gave you another rough kiss. john pulled you closer using those fingers inside of your messy cunt, thumb pressing hard on your clit. it was so possessive and dirty that you could feel the start of your orgasm. “come f’ me, darling. go’on.” you let go, clenching hard around him. he kept going unless you went limp, finally removing his fingers with a pop. his other arm was holding you up as he tasted you on his fingers. “sweet like honey.” you rolled your eyes at his cheesiness. “you’re so full of shit.” he kissed you again, short and loving. “‘m not lyin’.” another kiss, this one to your forehead. “you wanna stay here tonight? ‘s already late.” you squirmed at the realization you were half naked in a conference room, your colleagues fingers dripping with your wetness as he stood fully clothed, his cock straining against his pants. “is that weird? or too fast? i don’t even know what you want or what i want-“ he kissed you again, this time gruff, like a captain. “jus’ come home with me, honey. ill handle the rest.” and to that, you nodded.

[gghostwriter]

Hi was wondering if I could make a request?

I was thinking of a scenario where reader is a artist and Spencer catches her drawing him and willingly poses

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Tooth rotting fluff A/N: I think this would be the mushiest I've ever written, it's so cute. I hope you enjoy it! Main masterlist

Birds of a Feather. // Spencer Reid

There’s a common belief that states opposites attract and you’d say you and Spencer were a perfect example of this—he lives opposite your apartment, his career is part of the law enforcement industry while yours is from the creative industry, he’s a man of science while you’re a woman of art—to name a few. But all these were insignificant when you got to know him as a person. As Spencer Reid rather than SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. The same man who helped you carry boxes up to your floor when you first moved in. The same man who shyly accepted your dinner offer as a ‘thank you’, and the same man who tried his best to paint you a flower just to ask you out. 

All these small sweet nothings were what led to this lazy Sunday morning where the sunlight streams into your windows—the curtains softening its glow—hitting his brunette hair, turning strands into gold as he lounges on the sofa with a book in hand and as you hunch over your sketchbook, pencil scratching the paper, trying to capture this moment in time. 

Spencer was brought out of his riveting book on Quantum Physics when he felt your adoring gaze leaving and returning on him. He stealthily adjusted his position to take a peek at the sketchbook placed on your lap. 

He sucked in a breath when he realized what, or more specifically, who it was. 

“I-is that suppose to be me?” He clarified. 

You peeked at him through your lashes and nodded. “Yeah. Doesn’t it look like you?” 

“He’s too—pretty. Are you sure it’s me?” 

You giggled, catching on where he was going with it. “And you are! Derek calls you ‘pretty boy’ for a reason.” 

“That’s just him teasing me, Y/N.” 

You took his cheeks in your hands, minding the charcoal smudges on your fingertips. “Well I for one think you’re very pretty—inside and out.” You leaned in to give him a kiss. “So handsome, I can’t believe I get to call you mine.” 

Spencer melted under your affections. You always did have a way with your words in soothing his insecurities when they reared their head. Two years, six months, and eleven days of being together, you could read him like the back of your hand—an extension of you. 

“Sometimes I wonder—” he took your hands into his as the self-doubt started pouring out of him. “—how I got you to like me. We’re so different. You could have any man and—” he bit his lip. “—you still chose me.” 

“Hey, hey. Spence. None of that, okay? I’m the lucky one. I love your mind—” you placed a kiss on each side of his temple. “—and all the facts that you keep in it. I love your quirks—“ a peck on his left cheek. “—how you wear mismatched socks and always have an extra lipgloss in your bag since I lose mine. I love how you take care of me—” a kiss on his right cheek. “—how I’m the first person you talk to in the morning and the last one at night. And I love you—” a peck on his lips. “—in all of your entirety.” 

He cradled your head and leaned in for a longer kiss. It was as if he was communicating his adoration and devotion with each caress of his mouth on yours. He pulled away, noting the glassy look in your eyes and how swollen your lips looked. “I love you, Y/N.”

He looked down at your sketchpad. The drawing of him now messy and smudged in between your bodies. 

“That’s alright, Spence. I can always draw you again.” 

He placed the abandoned pencil back into your dominant hand. “Would you want—like me to pose for you?”

A smile blossomed on your face. The type backed by such delight and pleasure that he’d do anything for it to never go away. “You would?” 

He nodded, stunned with how you seemed to glow. 

“Okay, okay! You can just—” she pointed back to where he was a while ago. “—relax and continue reading.”

Following instructions, he lounged and open back his book—mindful of each movement that he made. As you were studying him—how the light casts a shadow on cheek, how graceful his neck looked. Spencer was also studying you—how each stroke of your hand was precise, how your tongue slightly peeked out when you concentrate, and how your cheeks would turn pink in color each time your gazes meet.

And although you’d like to believe that opposites attract, Spencer would like to believe that you and him were just ‘birds of a feather’. All the differences were inconsequential because he saw all the traits that you like to point out as his strengths—his empathy, his warmth, his brilliance, and even his beauty—in you, just infinity multiplied. 

And so on that very same day and minute, surrounded by the scratching of your pencil, the muffled noise of the city life outside, and the love that seemed to pour out of you like honey, he knew. He knew you were the one. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[supersexynerd]

“You’re not slick, Sir”

Prof!Nanami x afab!student!reader

Summary; Professor Nanami was not new to fucking his students, but he had never been attracted to one who saw right through him.

1.7k words

MDNI smut and just filth tbh

Morally grey Prof!Nanami who had a type when it came to students he found attractive. The sharp minded ones who did well in class and had ambition. The thirst for knowledge being the thing that made that aching part of his trousers strain.

Prof!Nanami who as soon as you walked into his lecture hall felt as if every student he had ever thought of, fuck that, every *woman* he had thought of like that could never have compared.

Prof!Nanami who is secretly pumping the air as he sees you place yourself front row directly against the wall of the railings. Setting out your laptop which was covered in different nerdy stickers that he found endearing.

Prof!Nanami who had to stop himself from losing control the first time he heard your voice answering one of his questions, a rather difficult one at that, so effortlessly. The clean tiredness mixed with intrigue making his mind race with thoughts.

How your voice would mold his name. The way you would let out sweet moans to the thrum of his fingers. Sounds of you gagging on his ever needy cock.

Prof!Nanami realising he had been thinking this while staring directly at you after assigning time for independent note taking on a difficult topic he had just explained. Leaving a slide on his projector for those who wanted exact details, which of course you did.

Prof!Nanami now staring pervertedly at the your pen brushes against your lips, settling your teeth on it slightly as you reread your notes and glance too and from the board. Eyes thirsty for knowledge only making him more thirsty for you.

Prof!Nanami spent the whole semester fucking his fist to the thought of you while in the confides of his own home. Sometimes even in staff bathrooms if you attended his lecture in an outfit that highlighted your body, especially your cleavage as you sat down.

Prof!Nanami who had been secretly marking your paper extra strictly compared to the rest of his class who he couldn’t quite care about as much. Knowing such critiquing feedback would have you staying behind the lecture to ask for tips on how you can improve.

Pure ambition in your eyes making Prof!Nanami’s heart genuinely swell… as well as something else

Prof!Nanami who had began slipping little flirty remarks during your out of lecture discussions. Seeing the way you would react, getting even more turned on when you play into it.

There was a certain aloof around you, something that wouldn’t allow Prof!Nanami to mentally put you into a specific box he could do with all his past students.

Prof!Nanami who would begin being extra touchy with you. Rubbing your shoulder while praising on good work you had submitted. Taking your hand to observe your nails after you had gotten them painted. Letting his leg brush against yours on the off times he had convinced you to sit next to him while he explains a source he had pulled up on his monitor.

Prof!Nanami who was physically restraining himself in his chair when you walk in a short black denim skirt and an off the shoulder sweater showing your red bra strap. Giving him a smirk as you sit down and notice a small redness on the width of his neck not covered by his shirt and tie.

Prof!Nanami who continues to pull himself back as his cock strains against his slacks watching you put your lips around the nip of your pen, wishing it was his own length seeping down into your throat.

Prof!Nanami had had enough. He had gone two whole semesters wanting, needing to fuck you and now he simply could not hold back.

“Miss [Y/L/N] please stay behind. I have some notes on your voluntary assignment.”

Prof!Nanami’s voice being so stable despite the fact he’s been clawing as the arm of his chair all lecture. Looking over at you to see if his words had had any effect yet you never took your eyes off your work to glance at him you just… sat there grinning.

What he couldn’t see was you squeezing your legs together, heat beginning to pool from your core.

The rest of the lecture hall had emptied leaving just you and Prof!Nanami who for the first time in the last two hours had stood up, revealing the pronounced and almost painful looking budge in his slacks.

Prof!Nanami had a script in his head for circumstances like this. He would tell the student that the effort they put in was noticeable and after a few more lines would have them on their knees gagging on his cock.

Yet this time it was you who spoke first.

“You’re not slick, Professor” you purred arms crossed as you eyed him up. Eyes staring back at his want.

This was off script. Prof!Nanami was used to them becoming timid under his gaze yet you; you seemed to thrive.

That was new for Prof!Nanami who was now beginning to falter, redness creeping back onto his neck as you began accusing him with painstakingly accurate assumptions. You were a smart girl, he never thought smart like this though.

“You act as if it is to better my education yet how come every time I walk near your desk you seem to shift as your cock grows just by the sight of me… or is it the smell?” You were almost mocking him now, smirk spread across your lips as you smugly watched him begin the squirm under your gaze. There was at least a foot between you two yet it seemed you had all the power.

“[Y/N] you cannot say such profanities to your lecturer” Prof!Nanami tried taking back control of the situation, failing as you let out a laugh.

“You are acting as if you haven’t thought about me in such a way?” You looked at him amused. “I see the way your eyes change whenever your mind is filled with lust and greed Professor. Have you ever touched yourself to the thought of me?”

Your words caught Prof!Nanami off guard, choking on his own spit as you said it. Suddenly looking away from you not understanding how you’ve taken the dominant role.

Standing up to swing your legs over the desk, allowing Prof!Nanami to see up your skirt to reveal you had a matching red thong to the teasingly attractive bra strap that was on display.

Prof!Nanami who’s pulling you forwards smashing your lips against his in a greedy primal way, causing you to chuckle mercilessly into his soft moans as you palm the bulge below.

Prof!Nanami who doesn’t know whether to writhe or relish in your sultry voice cooing and shushing him while undoing his belt.

“You’d wouldn’t want that would you? For your co-workers and students to realise how much of a slutty teacher you really are. Fantasising about your students all the time. Or would a perverted man such as yourself *love* to have people watch me fuck you” you say pulling his trousers and boxers with, his cock springing out with a thick bead of pre-cum dripping down the tip.

Prof!Nanami who’s roughly hiking your skirt up, ripping your underwear off in pure lust seeing just how wet this whole situation had gotten you. Two fingers swiping between your folds before entering his mouth, moaning at the taste of you.

“Need to be inside you” he mumbles as you look at him, sprawled out across the auditorium front row table. “Fuck” he huffs “you’re so beautiful.”

Prof!Nanami who couldn’t understand how but was now a mumbling mess the moment his cock began filling your tight cunt. Helpless pants coming from his mouth as his brain tricks him for being in paradise. You grab onto his tie, pulling his face down to yours in a passionate kiss as you steady yourself for the amount your poor cunt was about to stretch.

But it was all worth it seeing Prof!Nanami the once monotone and emotionless teacher come undone above you. Sloppy thrusts of his hips as he drank up your moans; they sounded better than he ever could’ve imagined. And your pussy felt nothing like what he imagined when closing his fist around the cock that was now twitching inside your plushy walls, trying so hard not to cum every single time he bottoms out; you just feel too good.

“This whole time I saw you as a desperate man but never a… submissive one” you huff still trying to piss him off just that little bit more. Taking control once more and acting cocky.

That is before Prof!Nanami has his thumb circling vigorously around your clit, causing your back to arch you to let out a loud pornographic moan, body bucking erratically.

“What was that you said, pretty girl?” He groaned. A raise of his sweaty brow and a haphazard attempt of a smirk before uncontrollably turning back into an “o” shape.

“I’m gonna-“ Prof!Nanami moaned hips thrusting in and out with a more violent rhythm. His thumb bullying your clit even more causing you to cross the line the same time he did.

Exhausted laps of much needed air as the pair of you collapse on the desk. You giggling slightly as you looked over to him.

“What?” He scowled, chest rising and deflating as a hysterical rate.

“Nothing” you waved off sitting up, your slightly wobbly legs standing up as cum trickled down your leg. Pulling your skirt down and throwing your slightly matted hair into a lazy bun.

“What are you doing?” Prof!Nanami questioned almost a little weary. A little astounded how you were able to get up and put yourself back together so quickly after what had just happened.

“I’m a student remember. I have places to be” you said carelessly. Picking up your tote bag. Fishing around for something to retrieve a few pieces of paper with your signature purple ink, “oh I forgot” placing it on top of his tired swollen dick. “My essay for this week”

With that you turned around and began walking around of the lecture hall, a more spring in your step while Prof!Nanami couldn’t quite process everything that was happening.

It had been more than once that Prof!Nanami has had his way with one of his students over the 15 years he’s been teaching here. Yet he’s never had one… act the way you did. He’s been accused by his past affairs of using them but this time; you were using him.

The thought of it starting to make his cock grow all over again.

“You can keep the thong!” You shouted from the entrance to the hall, pointing to the now ripped red lace thong that was discarded on the floor.

You best believed he pocketed that thing.

A/N: this was my first time writing smut so it’s a bit shit lol but I couldn’t get this thought out of my head.

Edit: Ignore any random astrixs!! Still figuring out how to edit on tublr >_<

[water-to-drink]

How They Became Attracted to You

(Characters): Al haitham, Ayaka, Kaeya, Chiori

(Synopsis): First meetings with the most popular or influential students at the academy

(Tags/Warnings): gn!reader, reader is an artist, school au, reader is a transfer student, possible ooc Chiori, (if I missed something lmk)

(Word Count): 1.4k

(A/n): If you all like this then I’ll make a part two, just tell me which characters you want to see

🦅Al haitham🦅

🦅 The first and only one to best him in a test, a geometry test to be specific. He only came in at 99% while you come in at a perfect 100%

🦅 At first refused to believe that a mere art nerd could get a better score than him and so with as much delicacy as a bull in a china shop Al haitham came up to you and asked you how you got your score

🦅 Being randomly approached by the school’s smartest student you were very nervous and told him that you just did what you learned from class. Seeing that you won’t give him the answer he asks for you to tutor him which you agreed to go it, mostly because you were very nervous under his sharp gaze

🦅 While tutoring it became apparent that you sucked at explaining things to him, don’t get him wrong he already knows the material he just wants to know how and why you got a 100. As these sessions went Al haitham saw how your hands would glide across the paper, the delicacy almost amazed him

🦅 Slowly but surely Al haitham realized that there was more to your shy exterior. You were sassy and quick witted, you could even match his intellect on many topics, he finds himself feeling that he on an equal level with you.

🦅 Now he looks forward to your tutoring sessions, recently you two won’t do any tutoring just do your homework and talk about anything on your mind, the same mind that he finds so interesting and beautiful

🪭Ayaka Kamisato 🪭

🪭 The two of you have seen each other in the hallway before and after classes. She would always see you with a sketchbook in your hands or drawing in it. You didn’t take up too much real estate in her mind, the poor girl has too much going on as the daughter of the Kamisato family. That was until one day where Ayaka was leaving cram school and her chauffeur was stuck in traffic, she was approached by an older man

“What’s a girl like you doing out so late?”

“I’m leaving cram school, sir.”

“Cram school? You kids work so hard, I can show you a good time.”

“Uh, no thank you, sir.”

“C’mon, don’t be so stuck up, live a little-”

“What’s the problem?!”

🪭 There you are, yelling at the top of your lungs, she can tell that you’re scared but you still yell drawing more attention to yourself and the creep in question. Once a lot of people are watching the scene the creep walks off leaving you and her alone

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am. I’m sorry that you had to step in.” Ayaka bows her head

“Don’t worry, I saw that you were uncomfortable so I decided to step in. See you around.” You waved goodbye as you walked off and her chauffeur pulled up

🪭 Later Ayaka came to learn that you didn’t know of the prestige that came with the Kamisato name. You came up and scared off the guy of your own volition, thinking that she was just an ordinary girl who needed to be rescued and that is what she’ll continue being to you

🪭 It wouldn’t be hard since you two are in different grades, you being her senior by a year. You would both meet up in a quiet cafe you work at, she learned that it was your family’s business and work there to help your family and to earn some pocket money. The two of you got so close that you even let her look through your sketchbook and Ayaka was amazed by your skills

🪭 When you offered to draw a portrait of her she jumped at the offer. So one day at your family’s cafe you presented her a drawing of her. You drew her as a swordswoman dressed in traditional Inazuman clothing and armor, she profusely thanked you and framed it the moment she got home

🪭 There are some nights where if she can’t sleep mainly because of nerves she’ll take your drawing and look at it, thinking about you would quell her anxiety and give her the best of dreams. Just don’t tell her brother, she’s afraid he’ll scare you off

❄️Kaeya❄️

❄️ Is the complete opposite of his adopted brother, he’s known as the school’s flirt and a total playboy. He makes girls and guys alike go head over heels for him, and you, the new transfer student, is on his radar

❄️ He lives for making innocent things like you into a flustered little mess. So when he sauntered over to you and threw his usual flirty remarks, he wasn’t met with a sheepish face nor an oblivious one. No he was met with a look of disgust

❄️ Without saying anything you walked away from him, leaving him bewildered. Did he do something wrong? Everyone falls for him. Refusing to take this laying down Kaeya decides to find out why weren’t you under his spell

❄️ And so he began to make an attempt to learn more about you, your likes and your dislikes, or your hobbies. At first you would just ignore him when he would try to strike up a conversation and after a few weeks he decided to make a deal with you

“Are you serious?” You asked

“Dead serious. We’ll act as friends and if you still can’t stand me in 2 months, then we’ll stop. Does that sound good?”

“Only if you promise to leave me alone after?”

“If you still can’t stand me.” Kaeya threw his signature smirk

“Ugh fine! But no flirting!”

“I make no promises~”

❄️ The two of you tried to act as friends, before it was awkward but soon you got used to his presence and you slowly began to come out of your shell, finally showing your true colors after about 3 weeks of “friendship”

❄️ Kaeya finds himself laughing at your jokes, actually laughing and not the fake laugh he would do when he’s trying to fuck somebody. Now Kaeya’s heart thumps whenever you would laugh at something or wave at him in the hallway. Oh gods, is he in love?!

❄️ He wishes he didn’t have the reputation he has, he wants more than your body, he wants your heart

🪡Chiori🪡

🪡 The president of the sewing club. Chiori and her club members have made various designs, many of them for the theater group whenever they’re putting on a performance. However the best designers have their slow movements, not being able to come up with any designs that are up to their standards. That is what plaguing Chiori

🪡 One day she finds a random sketchbook in the sewing club. Curiosity getting the best of the young seamstress she flips through the book, there she sees the most beautiful character designs, the obvious inspiration from big names like Chanel, Gucci, and Thierry Mugler, but the person who made these designs are unique to them. It all gives Chiori a surge of inspiration

🪡 Immediately she opens up her own sketchbook and begins drafting up some designs, some are amazing but others don’t compare to the designs in the mysterious sketchbook she found. She must find the person who made this

🪡 She hears the door opening and when she turns her head, she sees you looking a bit embarrassed.

“Uh, I left my sketchbook here, have you seen it?”

“Yes, I have.” Chiori picks up the book and hands it to you. “I looked through it.”

“Wait, what?!”

“And I like what I saw, can I make the designs in this book?”

🪡 So every Tuesday you would go to the sewing club and let Chiori bring life to your designs, the two of you would talk about various fashion styles and designers. Chiori is very impressed by your vast knowledge on how different styles and cultures arose, she might even say it rivals her knowledge (but she won’t)

🪡 The more time you two spend together the more Chiori likes you, she would look forward to your presence right next to her talking her ear off about your characters as she worked. Normally she would play music but the sound of you rambling is more than enough for her

🪡 In the privacy of her room Chiori would often find herself drawing up designs for wedding garments for her and yours wedding, she can’t wait for the day you to call her “my wife”

[my-my-my]

KINKTOBER DAY 1 - Grooming: Shunsui Kyoraku x Reader

Summary: Paperwork, paperwork, and more paperwork. A surefire way for Shunsui's headache to appear. But before it grabs a hold of him, maybe visiting you, a hair stylist in the World of the Living, would give him a much needed reprieve. Also, his hair was in need of a trim anyways.

TW: MDNI! NSFW. Shinigami Shunsui Kyoraku (Post TYBW) with human Reader. I tried to make Reader a bit of a tsundere. Oral sex (fem receiving).

Word count: 2030

Read on AO3 here.

This is a two-parter, with the second part falling under Face Sitting.

Head Captain Kyoraku hung his head and sighed. Paperwork was so cumbersome, there was too many on his desk, too many to read and too many to sign. Damn… how does Nanao do all of this, he thought to himself, slightly regretting giving her time off.

Another sigh echoed the room as he tried to concentrate at the task at hand. Paper after paper, sighs followed by grumbles and muttering from reading strange contracts and requests. Shunsui recognized the familiar pain that was flaring in his skull.

He leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes to try and minimize the approaching headache. It was then, it hit him like a strike of lightning, a brilliant idea on how to get this headache to go away.

Not one to be too irresponsible, he left a message with Lieutenant Okikiba that he’d back shortly.

To see Mr. Kyoraku at your salon was certainly a surprise. You didn’t quite know the man, but he enjoyed your company after you first gave his curly brown hair a simple trim. He came in one day, as you were closing, then would randomly visit you. Sometimes this was when you were already busy with a client, waiting around until you were free, other times it was right when you were closing. The relationship you had was… interesting. You couldn’t deny the immediate attraction to him as he was so handsome, but he also came across as silly that you couldn’t help but laugh at some of his antics and comments.

At the same time, the randomness annoyed you to a degree, so you gave him your number. What shocked you was that it was almost as if he had never heard of a cellphone number before. He stared at the slip of paper with confusion across his face. You remembered that night as you had burst into laughter, and he followed up with, “you have a beautiful laugh” and a dashing smile.

And now, here he was again, showing up when you had just finished with a client, making his way to a seat.

“Mr. Kyoraku! It’s nice to see you, but you need to remember to book an appointment with me.” You laughed as you brushed any remaining cut pieces of hair off your client, paying no mind to him. You attended to your client, as Mr. Kyoraku sat in his seat, his head down.

Once the client left, you were alone in your shop. You had been visited by Mr. Kyoraku several times now, and he would pay a hefty amount for being alone. It startled you the first time, but he said he wanted your complete and undivided attention, and he would pay extra for that.

Which was why he was here, again. How many years has it been since this came to be? But this visit was a bit different, the air was a bit tense. You proceeded to close up shop as Mr. Kyoraku asked you about your day. You focused on sweeping the floor, then looked at him from the mirror in front of you.

“Mr. Kyoraku! What happened?” You gasped, turning around to face him. He wore an eye patch, and an evident scar ran behind it to his ear.

“Oh this? You should have seen the other guy.” He laughed, trying to ease your worry, but without thinking, you held his face as you lightly traced the scar. The worry never faded from your face.

“You’ve always been so sweet to me, my dear.” Mr. Kyoraku said, cupping your hand to his face. He looked at you with his one eye and gave you a tender smile. “I’m alright, you really shouldn’t worry about an old man like me.” You frowned and knew he wouldn’t say much about himself, so you clicked your tongue and pulled him out of his seat.

“So can I assume you’re here for the usual?” You asked, preparing your tools to cut his hair.

He hummed in appreciation, as you draped the hair cutting cape over him. He undid his ponytail, and you began to lightly tussle his locks, “well your hair is super healthy! I hope it wasn’t a hassle to take care of as you recovered from your eye injury, sir.” You asked, politely.

“My dear, you can call me Shunsui.” He smiled at you through the mirror. You blushed at the lack of formality but nodded along. You could sense he was a bit self-conscious, but he had no reason to be. For some reason though, you felt that even if you said that to him, it wouldn’t detract from his insecurity.

You proceeded to trim the ends of his hairs to the shape he preferred. You were no nonsense in your approach, which he had told you before was what he preferred. He could sense your methodical approach, and as he had to move his head up and down, saw how focused you were on him and his hair.

It was… nice being cared for this way.

Then you quickly brushed him and led him to the sinks to wash his hair. “Could you… give me a longer massage today?” Shunsui asked, with a sheepish smile on his face.

“Oh of course, let me just clean your hair first, and I promise to give you the best scalp massage ever!” You exclaimed, wanting to make him feel better.

You carefully lathered and rinsed his hair. The long, brown tresses flowed softly along the sink, your nimble fingers gently detangling his hair. Your fingers made his way to his scalp, and you softly massaged his scalp. Shunsui sank deeper into his chair and let out a content sigh, “that’s great, just what I needed.” He murmured, a large smile gracing his face.

“If you want Mr. Kyo- I mean Shunsui, after I dry your hair, I can give you a back massage. I can see your back muscles are quite tense too.” You asked, noticing the way he was still tense in his chair. He gave you a sincere smile, “I’d love that.”

Once Shunsui’s hair had dried, and he placed his hair in a ponytail again, you led him to one of your spare esthetician rooms where you would give skincare treatments to a few of your clients. The bed doubled as a massage bed, so you instructed him to lay down on it.

Shunsui proceeded to take off his dress shirt, earning a flustered noise from you, “hold on! Let me leave the room.” Shunsui laughed, “it’s alright. We don’t have to be so modest with each other.” Giving you a wink.

“You just like teasing me.” You pouted, as you pushed him on to the bed. It did startle you to see how muscular he was, with mattering of chest hair, but you tried to be professional.

Tried being the operative word.

You placed the cover on top of him and began to feel out his back, noticing where tension was placed across his muscles. You also noticed the faint, timeworn scars across his back.

“You know, Shunsui, we’ve known each other for years… but you never told me what you do.”

“Is that so?” Shunsui replied, with a slight air of indifference, “why don’t you take a guess as to what I do?”

You hummed to yourself, trying to piece together what you knew about him coupled with the scars across his body and eye injury.

“An archery teacher?” You asked, thinking it was a bit of an odd job, but one you could see him do.

Shunsui gave a low chuckle, “no, bows aren’t my weapon of choice.”

Interesting you thought to yourself.

“A kendo teacher perhaps?” As you kneaded a particularly tense muscle of his. Shunsui inhaled sharply from the instant pain, but then relaxed.

“No, but you’re getting slightly warmer.”

Slightly warmer? You questioned. “Have you been working this job for long time?”

Shunsui let out another deep, muffled laugh, “you have no idea.”

“Something to do with the military?” You stopped, peering down at him. Shunsui looked up at you and gave you a lazy smile.

“Close enough.”

Confusion ran through your face, but you were done with his massage. Shunsui sat up on the table, rolling his shoulders and flexing his neck. He let out a loud groan of satisfaction from the relief he felt, “you had no idea how much I needed that.”

But you stared at him with a puzzled look on his face, trying to still figure out his career. Shunsui couldn’t help but laugh at your expression. “You look cute with that look on your face” he chuckled, poking your face.

This earned him another pout from you, “I’m not cute! I’m a grown woman.” This earned another laugh from him.

“You’re both cute and beautiful, how about that?” Shunsui explained, calling your name.

You crossed your arms, pretending to be hurt and mad at what he said, “you have to apologize, you know.” You huffed. Shunsui stared and then gave you a sly smile, cupping your face in his large hand.

“I think I know what to do so you can accept my apology.” Shunsui said, his face hovering close to yours. You closed your eyes as you felt his lips on yours, his hand holding your chin. You could feel the familiar tingles flowing through your body, as the kiss deepened.

He pulled away from you, a lazy, yet satisfied smile crossing his lips. Without a word, he lifted you with ease, putting you back on to the massage table.

“I think you need to take somethings off, if I’m supposed to give you a proper massage.” Shunsui said, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. You quickly shimmied off your bottoms and underwear, then spread your legs wide for him.

“See what I mean, you truly are both cute and beautiful.” Shunsui said in his teasing tone. Your pussy was bare for him to see, not quite wet enough to his liking, but it was a start. He kissed you again, as one of his hands traveled down, cupping your pussy. His large thumb gently rubbed against your clit, earning a gasp from you.

“That’s it,” Shunsui said, pulling his face away from you. He felt the growing slickness from you and kissed his way down your body, giving your nipples some quick bites and sucks. Soon he was hunched over the table, with your legs on his shoulders, as he was face-to-face with your wet pussy.

Shunsui let a long swipe against your wet folds. He groaned at your taste, suckling on your clit as one of his fingers entered you.

You were seeing stars, loudly moaning at how intense Shunsui was with your pussy. His thick finger was already so full for you, then he added two more, earning a deep groan from you. Your orgasm was approaching, as you threaded your fingers in Shunsui’s curls. His large nose rubbed along your slick pussy as he lapped away, savouring your taste.

You shrieked as your orgasm came, your pussy drenching his face with your wetness. Your face was flushed as you laid on the massage bed, watching Shunsui sit up and straighten himself out. A lazy, smug smile appeared on Shunsui face as he watched you in satisfaction, trying to ride out the remnants of your orgasm.

Shunsui pulled you up, kissing your forehead as your body began to calm down. Your pussy throbbed from what had just happened, but you wanted more of it, and more of him.

“If you’re free the rest of the evening, why don’t you come back to my place, Shunsui?” You asked, spreading your bare legs again as if to entice him.

Another lazy grin graced Shunsui’s face, “I thought you’d never ask.”

As he helped you finish the remaining tasks to close your salon, the headache he had and the boring paperwork, were a distant memory to him. A memory soon to be replaced by the sounds of your moans, the feel of your pussy and mouth around his cock, and your flushed body next to his.

TBC in face sitting.

Thanks for reading!!

[it-happened-one-fic]

Twisted Weddings: - Introduction

Author Notes: This is the first part of my 800 Followers celebration event for the Twisted Wonderland fandom. This is just going to be the introduction section for the story itself (which is going to be 9 sections in total). I chose the wedding theme on a whim based on a fic I read a long time ago on AO3 that has long sense gone missing, but no one is actually going to be getting married. Reader is going to be female for the sake of my own ease for this series. I hope everyone enjoys!

Type: Female reader/ sfw/ 800 Followers Event/ Series/ fluff/ featuring Crewel (Note for sake of avoiding confusion: This is not x Crewel)

Twisted Weddings Series Masterlist

Word count: 775

I frowned slightly at Crewel as he sat down across from me, a stack of papers in his hands that he slowly laid out. One sheet at a time.

“I’ve recently finished designing a line of wedding dresses and suits,” He spoke as he fanned the sheets out across the table. Each page had a sketched-out design of a wedding gown that had me blinking slightly in surprise.

Of course I’d known that Crewel was a designer. As if his fashionable nature wasn’t enough to tip me off, then Vil talking about his clothing line would have been. I hadn’t realized that he designed bridal clothes, though. And I certainly didn’t know what these clothes had to do with me or why he’d called me in to look at them.

I slowly glanced back up at my instructor as he continued, utterly calm despite my wary confusion, “I’m wanting to market each of these dresses differently than I usually would though. You see, this is my first line of bridal designs.”

I nodded, shifting slightly in my seat as Crewel eyed me, “I’ve decided that, along with the runaway models, I would do an advertising campaign where I have just one woman model all the gowns with varying different grooms.”

I blinked, already seeing where this was heading but not quite able to keep myself from staring at him in surprise in a way that had him smiling at me, “Of course I’ll pay you for modeling all eight gowns.”

I glanced down at the page in front of me, a picture of a classic wedding dress. Pristine white with a veil and looking like it was directly out of a fairytale. But as I glanced back up at Crewel, I shook my head slightly in blatant disbelief, “But I’m not a model…..”

“That’s what will make these ads more unique. You aren’t a model of any sort, and yet you will be the bride for this marketing campaign and will be far more relatable to prospective brides looking for a dress.”

I had to hand it to him; he’d come prepared. And I couldn’t deny that earning some money was attractive when I considered the state Ramshackle dorm was in.

There was no telling how many repairs I’d be able to manage with whatever Crewel was willing to pay me.

“The campaign will consist of seven pictures for magazines and billboards and one video for television advertising. For each dress, you will be paired with a different groom,” He continued calmly. Clearly explaining his plan for the marketing campaign even as I weigh my options.

“Are the models of the groom’s suits going to be professional?” I tilted my head when I spoke, and he hummed in response before shaking his head. 

How he avoided sending any of his black hair into the white half of his head or vice versa was beyond me, but I didn’t question it as he responded, “Only one. As I said, there’s going to be a different model for the grooms in each image. I thought it would be more interesting to use other fresh faces for this campaign for the grooms.”

I felt my eyebrows arch, “But wouldn't it make more sense to just use one model for the suits since you’re just going to be using one for the gowns?”

Crewel frowned, a flicker of annoyance going through his gaze as his eyes met mine, and I tilted my head slightly, “That was the plan, but the candidates for modeling being how they were made things difficult.”

“And who are the candidates?” I couldn’t help the wariness that slipped into my tone, and Crewel sighed slightly before handing me a stack of pictures that was filled with familiar faces.

“They ended up being the winners. Whether they entered themselves or were entered by someone else,” As he spoke, I sifted through the pictures.

Trey, Ruggie, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Sebek, and Leona.

“Winners?” I echoed him amusedly, and Crewel shook his head. 

There was a perfectly annoyed expression on his face as he frowned down at the pictures in my hands, “Suffice to say they all turned it into a competition.”

I almost wanted to ask exactly how this supposed ‘competition’ went down, but thought better of it as I took a secondary glance at Crewel’s expression.

I shrugged lightly, laying the pictures down on top of the wedding sketches, “Well, I can’t really think of any reason to say no to modeling for you…”

I trailed off and Crewel nodded, back to business as usual as he collected all the papers, “Then we’ll start tomorrow.”

If you would like to read more

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[yawujin]

drv3 boys and how they would flirt 💭 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

type • head canon format , cute , light hearted , non killing game , flirting , they/you pronouns used

author's note* hii , if you've been following my blog you will have noticed that i haven't been writing for dangan that much-that's just because i go through phases or fluctuations where i just focus on one of my interests at a time. thanks for reading 🪄

shuichi saihara ♡

finds any reason to talk to them

he asks sooo many questions to get to know you

he wants to see if he can find any common interests between the two of you

if he does, he finds himself thinking up any references or witty jokes he can tell you to make you laugh

his form of flirting would include making them laugh, then (with a lot of courage built up inside him) telling them how cute their laugh/smile is

rantaro amami ♡

people don't call him a playboy for nothing

even though rantaro doesn't really consider himself to be that way, his body language says otherwise

somehow he almost always seems like he is flirting

this is because; one, he isn't afraid of eye contact. two, he gets really close to them when they're speaking...

...and three, he does that thing where he "fixes" their hair whenever it's "out of place" even when it isn't

his form of flirting would be subtle touching, hinting that he really likes it when they're near. he'll only start to do it if they seem comfortable with it

k1b0/kiibo ♡

as i've written in an older post on this blog, kiibo likes to write notes/letters

i can really see him enjoying jotting down his most interpersonal thoughts on a small piece of paper, folding it and sliding it in with the many other items inside his messenger bag.

he wouldn't want anyone else to see what he writes down, unless of course, he's giving a note to them <3

kiibo's way of flirting with them would be writing down poems or haikus, his likeness for them hinted at in every word. it's either that or he writes down lyrics from his favorite love songs

korekiyo shinguji ♡

kiyo would read about the differences in how people show romantic love for each other in different cultures

there would be paragraph upon paragraph about the rules of courtship in each country

he asks if courtship is something they'd be interested in doing─or rather, having it be done to them. he's joking, of course

but in all seriousness, he would like to do something of the like with them. his form of flirting his vaguely hinting towards that, attracting them towards him-he'll never do anything they don't want.

kaito momota ♡

someone needs to let him know that it's hard to tell if he's flirting or just being nice-like he is to everybody else.

being the dudebro that he is, kaito tries to do as many push-ups in their presence as he possibly can

why? to impress them of course!

but when that trick fails, he starts becoming more direct. his form of flirting would be greeting them with a tight hug everytime he sees them. he'd also start complimenting them more often.

gonta gokuhara ♡

being as studious as he is, gonta will shyly ask if they would like to spend some time in the library together

he'll answer any questions they may have about his work with a big smile on his face. maybe their curiosity hints to them liking him back?

the way he flirts isn't too obvious, but it starts with gonta wanting to spend more time with them, especially in nature. they can expect him to take them out to watch honeybees collect sweet nectar from flowers 💐

ryoma hoshi ♡

this new crush has ryoma wanting to pick up tennis again

he spends his time playing the sport all alone, thinking about how he could start a conversation with them.

deep down, he wants to feel useful...

he asks them if they would like to learn how to play. really, he just wants to have more opportunities to see them and talk

kokichi ouma ♡

he likes to rile them up any way he can, only to say he's joking and telling them how adorable they look when they get like that─only to say that that was a lie

he'll want to leave an impression on them, get under their skin and become unforgettable in their mind

his way of flirting is quite immature, as to be expected. he makes up a nickname for them and only them as a way to get the message across

[aniharas]

𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

summary: on your first day back at spider society hq, your male colleagues are inexplicably drawn to you. your boss, miguel, seems to be affected more than anybody. surely there's an explanation and solution, but who were you to resist?

warnings: explicit language, sexual tension/content, use of pheromones (please let me know if i need to add more!)

wc: 9.6k+ oneshot

a/n: apparently there was a rumor that a body butter named Delícia Drench (hence name of the fic) attracted wolf spiders! somebody on reddit said it's because there might be two ingredients that imitate the pheromones of a female spider and it'll bring all the thirsty boy spiders to your yard. and with miguel being 50% spider, how could i resist writing? (shoutout to scarlet for the wonderful prompt!) however DISCLAIMER! these claims are unfounded, i just thought it was a fun prompt to write off of. anything i say in the fic referring to the butter is purely fictional and im just talking out of my ass. with that being said, enjoy!

Just before the sun began to rise over the city line of Earth-766’s New York, your hand shot out to slam the snooze button of your annoying alarm clock before it could even go off. The silky sheets you were laid in were far too comfortable, reluctant to release you from its dreamlike embrace, but alas, duty was calling. The holidays had come to a close, and your peaceful vacation back in your home dimension was a bliss escape away from your tiring job.

You didn’t hate your job; in fact, it was just the opposite. Since you were in middle school, you always had an unrivaled passion for chemistry, as many Spiders were. Your life before getting bitten by that spider was mainly winning science fairs, calibration rooms, and working towards your Ph.D. Even after becoming your New York’s one and only Spiderwoman, your academic pursuit never ceased, eventually landing yourself at the prestigious Alchemax. However, it was because you had secured such a high-profile job that you caught the attention of the Spider Society, in the form of its leader, Miguel. He somehow knew that you were on the path to creating a more stable version of Rapture, and because of this, he was persistent in roping you into his ranks.

At first, you had declined profusely, briskly walking away from where he had approached you in Central Park. The brisk walk eventually turned into a full-on Spider chase, although the uniqueness of his abilities seemed to distract you. The talons that protruded from his fingers that tore through metal like paper, the neon-red nature of his webs, and his fangs. His fangs were what intrigued you the most. Eventually, you were pincered by him and another Spiderwoman named Jessica, who would later become one of your best friends.

Alas, you accepted, although not until being lured in by the offer of all the technology and scientific advancements you could imagine in Nueva York. The first time you had entered the HQ’s lab, you were like a kid in the candy store. You loved your job, which involved tailoring different types of chemical equipment, unique for each Spider that came by, as well as equally unique medicines and antidotes for the medical ward. 

Your main job, however, was developing the Rapture injection, the one you were recruited for, almost daily. And for who other than your broody boss? Even though he hadn’t left the best impression after chasing you like a madman in your hometown, you were required to work with him. And in the beginning, it would be an understatement to say it was challenging. Miguel was a whirlwind of sarcastic remarks and impatience who constantly nagged you for any updates. And to make it worse, each morning, you would make your way to Miguel’s office and inject him with your experimental Rapture of the day. Then in the evening, you would return to observe the effects. The days consisted of constant complaints that you were late, that the injection didn’t have the intended effect, and that Rapture was your top priority, all of which were grating on your soul. 

Since your daily routine started and ended with Miguel, your relations grew slightly amicable over time. It started with silent gestures of gratitude: a cup of steaming coffee left in your office in the lab, bringing extra dinner for him during the end-of-the-day check-ups. After 3 months of your stay at the Society, you both started communicating with your watches (He was insistent that you call the watches gizmos, to which you adamantly refused). At first, it was only about work and your Rapture progress. The conversations then slowly changed into more casual ones, topics ranging from your pets back home to him venting his frustrations about the shenanigans of whatever Hobie was up to that day. Sure, he was slightly more friendly (which wasn’t a feat considering who he was), but his irritable nature was still a turn-off for you, and the sarcasm leaping into every evaluation didn’t help either. You considered him lucky that he was quite the eye candy. He was actually pretty attractive whenever he shut his mouth.

This particular morning was your official return to Nueva York after two weeks, so you decided you would put a bit more effort into your routine. Reluctantly, you rose from your bed and stumbled towards your bathroom, wincing at the harsh cold of its floor underneath your feet. You allowed yourself a moment of bliss under your hot shower, trying your best to wash away any stress you were anticipating that day. Once you had finally stepped out of the shower, you quickly dried yourself off and wrapped a plush towel securely around your body, trying your best not to slip as you trudged over to the bathroom counter. Admittedly, you weren’t the most graceful Spider; you were on the smarter side.

Then it was the usual sequence of your routine. Brushing and blow-drying your hair, skincare, and makeup. Just as you were about to make your way to your closet, you realized that you had forgotten your lotion, which you would’ve considered disastrous. Nothing bothered you more than your own dry skin. By habit, you were about to reach for the usual bottle until an unopened box tempted you from the corner of your eye. As you turned it around in your hands and delicately unpackaged it, you silently chastised yourself for almost forgetting. It was a body butter, given to you by Jessica during a surprise visit on Christmas day.

“This is from Lyla. She says to thank her later,” Jessica had said on that day vaguely before giving a brief hug.

Unscrewing the lid from the jar, you smiled to yourself. If there was anyone other than Jessica that you truly missed over your break, it was Lyla. The hologram assistant never failed to make you smile with the many ways she’d tease Miguel, but she also never failed in constantly bringing up asking him out. “I don’t care if he’s your boss,” Lyla would say. “I’d know more than anyone if he has the hots for you, and he guess what? He does!” Which was hard to believe, considering his persistent stubbornness in your day-to-day interactions.

Once the lid was finally off, a waft of vanilla with a hint of sandalwood drifted into the air. Inhaling the scent of the butter deeply, you felt oddly touched. This was undeniably a scent that was up your alley, and it was very thoughtful. As you worked it into your skin, you made a mental note to thank Lyla. It was when you were just about finished that you noticed something peculiar. You had caught a subtle whiff of another note, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was elusive, teasing your senses as you racked your brain for what it could possibly be. Figuring it was just an ester you smelled in your various experiments, you left the bathroom to get dressed, with a more confident aura around yourself.

–

Your first day back couldn’t have started any more peculiar.

You had barely gotten the chance to take in the surroundings of your beloved HQ before you were instantly greeted with Hobie swinging in as he called your name, landing just in front of you.

“Evil genius. Heard you’d be back today,” Hobie greeted with his signature half-smile, his lanky arms immediately opening to embrace you. Which was weird, considering he was more of a handshake-y/shadowboxing type of greeter. But he was a joy to have around in your lab (despite him not particularly having too much interest in your work), so you didn’t refuse.

“You’ve gotten taller,” you replied with a grin on your face, happily accepting his embrace. While it was comforting, you noticed that it was taking a while for him to pull away. Passing it off as mere affection, you pulled away and looked up at Hobie’s face. He seemed almost bewildered as he stared down at you, almost in some sort of trance. Was he looking at your lips? Was he looking further down?

“Uh, Earth-928 to Hobie? Helloo?” you called out, snapping your fingers in front of him repeatedly in an attempt to wake him up. It wasn’t until the 5th or 6th snap that he finally seemed to jolt awake, although still fixated on you.

“Oh. My bad, fam,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You raised a brow at his mannerisms; it was extremely unlike him to act so nervous. You then gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder, and you swore you saw him slightly tense at the feeling.

“So, you got a new cologne or somethin’ like that? Hold on, not cologne…what’s it called? Perfume? Toilettes?” Hobie began rambling, seemingly in a desperate attempt to cover up his uncharacteristic awkwardness.

“Oh, Lyla got me-”

You were cut off by another voice shouting your name to your left. It was one of the many Peters. “How’s my favorite scientist been? How was your vacay?”

“Just stayed at home,” you answered, a bit startled as you tried to split your attention between Peter and Hobie. “Anyways, Lyla-”

Another voice chimed in behind you. “I heard your universe is one of the most beautiful. You were definitely up to something.” Then another. “It’s been forever since I last saw you!” Another. “Wanna come eat with us at the caf?”  You even heard Ben’s voice, to which you were surprised he had taken a break from his usual moping to join the ever-growing commotion around you. “You smell nice!” Soon, all the greetings and compliments became a garbled mess in your ears, your view obscured by a wall of Spiders.

You tried your best to force on a polite smile as you tried to weave your way through the oncoming traffic of people. To you, this was completely unexpected and foreign. Sure, you had made lots of friends in your time at HQ, but people weren’t exactly buzzed to see you. At most, you’d get a friendly wave as you passed by each other in the twisty pathways. Now, they acted like you were an oasis in a desert.  As you whipped your head around, you noticed something in the ever-growing crowd around you: it was all Spidermen. That irked you slightly; you had made many Spiderwomen friends as well. Where were they? Becoming slightly dizzy with the growing clamor around you, you were just about ready to web yourself up to the ceiling and swing your way to your lab.

As if your prayers were miraculously answered, the familiar rev of an engine overpowered the clamor of the Spidermen, and they immediately parted ways down the middle to reveal Jessica, staring at you with an amused grin as she sat on her motorcycle.

"I’ll take you to HQ if you tell me what the hell’s going on!” Jessica offered, her voice raised so that you could hear.

Instant relief flooded through your body as you nearly sprinted your way to Jessica, planting a grateful kiss on her cheek before hopping on the back of the motorcycle. As you both sped away, you still waved goodbye to the Spidermen, despite how weird you had felt mere seconds prior. As if things couldn’t get any weirder, you noticed that the crowd you had left behind had almost immediately dispersed, with only some lingering around to chat.

“God, Jess. I’ve been here for two minutes, and I think I’ve already had the weirdest day out of everyone here!” you remarked loudly with a heavy sigh. You linked your arms around Jessica’s waist to remain stable on the motorcycle, eyes squinted from traveling at such a high speed.

Jessica only seemed to chuckle in response as she steered through the complicated structure, towards your lab. “Yeah? Try being pregnant!” she called out over the wind, her curls tossing about in the wind.

Your eyes widened immediately upon the revelation. “You’re lying, shut up,” you scolded, immediately feeling over Jessica’s stomach to verify it. Lo and behold, your hands smoothed over the beginnings of a bump, which caused you to squeal out in excitement. “Oh my god, Jess! When is it due?!”

“6 months! So don’t hold on so tight!” Jessica chided playfully as she effortlessly navigated her way through the building, shouting at countless Spiders to move out of her way. You held on for dear life, but of course, not too tight.

Eventually, you reached your beloved lab, to which you both entered. The door hissed closed behind you, and after you had set your bag down, you immediately sprung into action. This was simultaneously your sanctuary and your training, where you were at your best. Jessica watched from a nearby stool, gently holding her stomach.

“So this is where you cook up the good stuff, hm?” Jessica quipped, her eyes glued to the liquid that was poured into an instant syringe.

“Somebody’s gotta keep the boss alive,” you chuckled, your meticulous hands carefully measuring out just the right amount of Rapture before sealing it closed. This was the new batch that you had been working on at home, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t eager to show Miguel. “Speaking of which, I’ll need a lift there.” Packing the syringe into a box, you motioned for Jessica to come with you as you began to walk toward the sealed doors. That was until you were stopped by your pregnant friend’s hand in your face.

“Hold up, hon. You still never explained what was going on out there,” Jessica reminded you in a stern tone with an equally stern look.

“Jess, I wanna know as much as you do.” You paused, taking a deep breath as you recounted the event. “Maybe it's just a…welcome committee thingy.”

Jessica gave you a pointed look as a scoff left her lips. “Welcome committee, my ass. Those guys were like pirates, and you were a siren. It was more like a…’Welcome Back, I Would Die For Your Attention’ committee.”

As much as you wanted to bite back, it was unfortunate that she was right. While most of the Spider-folk were kind, as they tended to be, they were never that eager to see you before. People you thought you could never shake were in the crowd. Did it feel nice? You were ashamed that it did, just slightly, but perhaps for a different reason than you thought.

Perhaps Miguel would be the same.

Noting your silence and your brows creased in thought, Jessica gave you a reassuring smile as she stood to pat you on the back. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop messing with you,” she chuckled, giving you a gentle push toward the door. “But something’s up, and I’ll get to the bottom of it.”

“Yeah, yeah, let me know when you figure it out. I’d like to know too,” you said as you narrowed your eyes at her, although you could never keep a serious face with your best friend as you broke out into a smile.

With that, you both stepped out of the lab, only to be immediately greeted by another crowd of Spidermen that had gathered outside the entrance. Your face twisted into annoyance as you looked to Jessica for help.

“Move, people!” she shouted out above the onslaught of chattering Spidermen. “Unless you want to work with Miguel for a week!” With that, the crowd easily dispersed, scattering like…well, spiders. Despite the situation you were in, you were glad that many of them felt the same way about working with Miguel. Outside of work, he was bearable, but his free time was rare.

After another short ride on Jessica’s motorcycle through the complex, you reached Miguel’s office. You took a deep breath, giving your friend a firm nod as you prepared to walk through the automatic doors. As soon as you were about to take a step, Lyla apparated in front of you, sliding down her heart-shaped shades to get a good look at you.

“It’s been forever! Just know I’d hug you if I could,” the assistant exclaimed with the widest grin you’ve ever seen on her. Her playful antics were infectious, and her cheery tone seemed to wipe away the stress the day had accumulated so far. “Sooo, how’d you like your gift?”

“Oh! Right, uh, I’m wearing it right now,” you stammered out, feeling terrible. The morning had been so hectic that you forgot to seek out Lyla and thank her properly. Your response made Jessica raise a brow and lean over toward you, taking a whiff. You looked at her. “What do you think?”

“You smell sweet,” Jessica remarked, then paused, as if analyzing your scent a bit more. “And…womanly.”

Lyla seemed to nod eagerly at this statement, her virtual eyes glinting with curiosity as she prodded at you further. “And what’s it like?”

Perplexed by the wording of the question, you hesitated to answer. What on earth did either of them mean? Everyone was acting strange today. “Um, the vanilla is really nice, I had no idea you knew that I liked that sort of stuff. It was very thoughtful, Lyla.”

Lyla continued to stare at you a bit more intently, seeming to wait for another answer from you until she seemed to give up. “That’s good, I’m glad you love it,” she replied, though there was a hint of something enigmatic in her response. As if she were physically standing in front of the door to the office, Lyla stepped to the side, gesturing for them to go in as the doors slid open. “You can come in, but consider yourself warned. Miguel’s cranky at the moment.”

“When is he not?” You muttered, mostly to yourself, but you could hear Jessica snicker at your side as you both strolled in. The familiar hum of Miguel’s futuristic machinery filled your ears, the metallic interior of his office coldly greeting her eyes. When you first spotted your boss up on his platform (which was redundant, in your opinion), he was already wearing his suit. You swore he always wore it to show off his physique. He had his back turned to the both of you, seeming to intently stare at the screens and holograms in front of him blankly.

“Does he ever not do that?” Jessica muttered under her breath to you as you both stared ahead. It was so simple for her to break your resolve, pressing your lips together in a tight line to prevent yourself from letting out even the smallest sound.

“Are you ever not late?”

Miguel’s sharp voice immediately cut through the playful nature that surrounded the two of you. The smile immediately dropped from your face, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. How could somebody already be so irritated? The day hadn’t even started.

You glanced toward Jessica briefly before answering, trying to keep your voice steady. “I was just stuck in the lobby-”

“Yeah, I saw,” Miguel interjected coldly as he turned his head toward the hologram-screen that displayed the security feed. With a simple flick of his hand, the screen swiped out of view as he turned to face you, his face twisted into an unfamiliar emotion, albeit clearly not a pleasant one. “Really glad you had the time to mingle. Not like we’re on a schedule or anything.”

If Miguel hadn’t been 6’9” of almost entirely pure muscle, you swore you would’ve swung up and lunged at him like a rabid animal. Would it have killed him to be just a bit understanding? He was watching you through the feed, how was any of that your fault? His mockery and grumpy attitude were things you’d grown used to, but today, it was particularly biting. It seemed…personal.

Jessica seemed to feel the same way as you heard her snort audibly in response. This directed his attention towards her, his glare unwavering. “And you,” he began, pointing a finger directly at her. “What did I tell you about riding that thing through my building?”

“ Our building,” she bit back, her posture nonchalant as she lazily examined her nails. “How about you yell at the people who got in her way, smart guy?”

Miguel rolled his eyes at her remark, seemingly ready to go back and forth until he glanced down at her stomach. He then shook his head, gesturing to shoo her away. “I…I don’t even wanna get into it with you. Just…get out.”

Elbowing you lightly, Jessica leaned closer to you with a smirk. “See? Pregnancy perks,” she joked. “But I would’ve preferred a vacation.” You clamped a hand over your mouth to stop the fit of laughter you felt rising.

“¡Oye! Are you even listening?!” Miguel hissed at Jessica, pointing towards the doors. Genuinely, you admired her patience, as she didn’t even flinch. Giving you a look that clearly meant “good luck”, your best friend gently patted you on the back before taking her leave. You stared until her figure disappeared behind the automatic doors, and then you became all too aware that you and Miguel were alone. The air in the room grew tense as you attempted to quell the irritation rising within you.

Once you turned back to look up at Miguel, he was running his fingers through his hair, pushing it back in somewhat of a stressed manner as he was fixated on another screen. Without sparing you another glance, he spoke up again, the words barely even louder than the quiet buzz of the hologram projectors. “The Rapture. Get up here,” he muttered, slowly pacing back and forth on his levitated platform.

Tucking the box securely in your (thankfully) deep pockets, you made sure to secure it tightly, the contents too delicate to leave dangling so carelessly. Mentally preparing yourself for the incoming 5 minutes you had to spend with Miguel, you flung your wrist towards the edge of his platform, a silky web instantly connecting the two. Pulling on the tensile web, you gave yourself enough momentum to fling yourself up onto it, landing opposite to where he was standing—one of your more graceful landings.

His back was still turned to you as you pulled the box out of your pocket, carefully extracting the syringe with your latest creation. Staring down at it proudly, you stood on your feet and cautiously approached Miguel. “Worked on this one during vacation,” you said, not necessarily caring if he had anything to say about it. “Think it’s my best one yet.”

Miguel’s shoulders rose and fell as he took a deep exhale, intent on reading the details of his upcoming mission. “It better be,” was all he muttered, holographic nature of his suit fading away in a patch on his left shoulder, his usual injection site. Placing your right hand tentatively against his shoulder blade, you held the syringe up to his skin, ready to administer until you noticed something. You gently pressed a finger against his skin, and it was almost as if the muscle was made of rocks.

“You need to relax your shoulder, boss,” you remarked, your focus beginning to trail across the expanse of his back. It almost seemed to ripple constantly from how tense they were. Usually, this process was the easy part, and you both had done this dozens of times. 

“Yep. Got it.” A muscle in his neck flexed slightly.

“Is something bothering you?” you asked cautiously, observing his odd behavior. Seriously, him too? What was up with everyone today?

“ Mierda , just get on with it,” he grumbled, an obvious strain in his tone.

“If you say so,” you whispered, injecting the green liquid into his system. Once again, it was different. A sharp inhale escaped his lips as he winced; you caught a glimpse of his eyes flashing a bright red in the reflection of his monitors. The eyes were normal, it happened every time. But it never caused him discomfort before. Concern was etched across your features as you took a step back, your eyes scanning over his body. 

“Seriously, Miguel. Is there something I should know?” you asked with a huff, placing a hand on his other shoulder to turn him around. However, when you were finally able to his expression for the first time, it was nothing like you had ever expected. His eyes were clouded over as they locked onto yours, a rawness in his gaze that made you shudder. His jaw was clenched, muscles taut, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed deeply. You even noticed the cadence of his exhales, each one sounding as if he was barely in control. Was this an adverse reaction to the Rapture? Uneasiness began to settle into your skin. Was this your fault? You worriedly placed a hand against his forehead to feel his temperature, now noticing the sweat that had begun to dot across his forehead. 

He wasn’t even stopping you or making any snide remarks. Something was definitely wrong.

“Lyla?” you called out into the void of his office as you retracted your hand. “Show me his vitals.”

“No, Lyla, don’t even think about it,” Miguel objected through gritted teeth. You both were only greeted by Lyla’s familiar giggle as a hologram screen materialized behind Miguel, displaying his various vitals.

“You’re supposed to work for me ,” he grunted.

“Misclick! Oops, gotta go-” Lyla taunted, the sound of her program shutting off following. You swore you heard him mutter “chinga tu madre” under his breath.

As you read through the different stats, you only seemed to confuse yourself more. His body temperature was slightly elevated, but nowhere close to a fever. No production of histamines, so no allergies. Nothing from the injection seemed to affect any aspect of his body. His heart rate, however, was through the roof. Surely Spider-people don’t get heart attacks, right? You were about to instruct Lyla until a certain statement in his vital report caught your eye.

Elevated levels of oxytocin present.

Those words seemed to knock the wind right out of your stomach, struggling to find the words to say as you froze in place. Was there something you missed when you were gone? Miguel just suddenly had a thing for you? Racking your brain, you tried to think of any way this could have developed. Maybe distance does make the heart grow fonder. Would you be disrespecting yourself if this was fine with you? 

Suddenly, images of your time with him began to pop up in your mind, but they were now corrupted. You thought of the way his quadriceps flexed as he carried boxes into your new office, the hitch of his breath every time you gave him a new injection, and simply how large he was in comparison to you. Your free hand began to fidget with the hem of your shirt, letting your gaze fall anywhere but him. You were certain your cheeks looked like they had been pinched. The both of you stood there, unsure of what to do, an awkward silence engulfing the room.

As if unable to endure this situation any longer, Miguel muttered a curse under his breath before he moved swiftly, hopping down from the platform. He seemed eager to escape his office, which was strange; this was where he usually holed up before and after missions. The sound of his footsteps rang in your ears, finalizing the fact that you were now standing alone, your mind a whirlwind of chaos. But with each step he took, the more you felt your heartbeat in your ears, the steady rhythm urging you to follow him. To demand one ounce of clarity from him. He couldn’t just leave you here.

“Miguel, wait,” you called out, shooting a web to the floor and flinging yourself after him. Once you had landed, you kept pursuing him, but he quickened his pace. Your mind flashed back to when he had chased you through Central Park, and a smile snuck its way onto your lips. It only made you even more relentless, your gait quickening.

Once you were close enough to him, you reached out, your hand gently tapping the broadness that was his back, a silent plea for him to acknowledge what had just been uncovered between the both of you. After receiving no response, you sighed in exasperation. “Miguel, please,” you implored. “Could you tell me-”

Miguel pivoted abruptly, the intensity in his gaze disorienting as you felt him tightly grip your wrist. Despite not having done much, his breaths were almost ragged. His eyes were glazed over, dropping down from yours just for a moment, stealing a glance at your body before returning it to a respectable place. 

“What the hell are you doing to me?” he grunted through his teeth, his voice low as it wavered with a hint of vulnerability. Despite his efforts to keep it down, the question echoed throughout the confines of his empty office.

As you tried to wiggle your wrist away, you realized it would be a waste of effort to try, so you let him. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you stared up at him with wide eyes. You knew for a fact that he could feel your heartbeat with the way he was gripping it, and you were certain it beat like a rabbit’s. Hopelessly caught off guard, you stammered, “I…I don’t know. It isn’t the Rapture, I promise, I did every-”

“Don’t you give me that,” he cut you off, his words seeming to slice through whatever resolve you had left. “I know it’s not the damn Rapture. It’s you. I know it’s you. You’re in my head.”

The admission hung in the air between you two, another thing that only seemed to confuse you further that day. Miguel’s eyes bore into yours, its murky depths desperately searching yours for any answers. But he was only greeted by ones who were as clueless as he was. As he stared down at your wrist that was so easily enveloped by his hand, it seemed to spur him on. Impulsively, Miguel gripped you by your frame and whirled you around, pushing you against the metallic wall, his arms forming a cage around you.

You felt like you were caught in the eye of the storm of emotions that were building up inside him. You were utterly dwarfed by his figure. Sure, you always knew that he was tall, but you never had been this up close and personal before. As you glanced over at the arms that had caged you in like an animal, you fought the urge to run your hand over the ripple of his biceps that were almost staring at you right in the face. Realizing you were definitely focusing on the wrong thing, your eyes met his once again, each time becoming more difficult than the last. Whatever he had to say, you had no choice but to hear it.

“I can’t control it,” he continued, the words escaping like a reluctant exhale. That part was obvious enough. “The moment you stepped into HQ, every damn thought is you. Coño , I can’t even read one sentence of the mission brief with you right behind me. I’m doing things before I even think. I want to hate it.”

The weight of his words settled over you, sinking deep into your skin as you felt yourself burn up again. His sudden infatuation made you realize all the flirty comments and gentlemanly gestures that had been following you all morning. Sure, it was similar, but none of them seemed to be affected more than Miguel. What was it? Swallowing thickly, you mustered the courage to speak, to test the waters. “But you…don’t hate it?” you breathed, your chest seizing with regret as soon as the words left your lips.

Miguel’s brows furrowed, and you had trouble discerning what emotion was causing it. “I don’t,” he choked out, his voice dropping to a whisper. “So fix it.” “What?” His demand hung in the air, a fervent and pleading demand. “I said, fix it,” he insisted, his words taking on a rougher tone. One of his hands slid down from the wall, and he poked accusingly at your chest, just at the top of your sternum. “Whatever you’re doing, fix it,” he persisted, his voice akin to a low growl that sent pleasurable tingles down your spine. “Or I will.” “I don’t know how,” you shamefully admitted, your words laced with sincerity. Your eyes were blown wide upon seeing how intense he was up close, you could hear his labored breaths. The silence that followed your answer lingered between the both of you, both searching each other’s expressions just for one hint, a clue as to how to proceed from that moment. Miguel had always made the decisions, not you, and seeing him at a total loss for words had also stumped you. “I– um, you said that it was when I arrived, right?” you sputtered out, desperate to say anything to ease the heavy tension that was beginning to crush the both of you. Your eyes tried to lock on anywhere that wasn’t Miguel, but it proved difficult when his figure loomed over you. “I can just, uh…go home? Yeah! I can go back home for the day, and I–” And then, with a suddenness that left you without your words, Miguel’s hands retracted from the walls at your sides, cupping your face. Without letting another beat of your heart pass, he surged forward, all too quickly, then his lips were on yours. 

At first, your mind tried to make sense of what was happening. This was Miguel O’Hara, your boss, and a rude one at that. The same guy who always scolded you for the smallest of reasons. Not only would it be inappropriate to continue, but a blow to your self-respect. Yet, in the moment that followed, you felt his tongue gently graze against your bottom lip, and all logic seemed to dissolve and wash away, surrendering to his kiss. You should have been embarrassed that you had to reach up so far to wrap your arms around his neck, but he hunched over to make it easier on you.

He seemed to have been waiting for any sort of response from you. His hands moved with purpose, falling from your face to claw at your body, exploring the curves of your back as if he wanted to burn every detail to his memory. The fevered kiss he gave you ceased for a moment, a curse just barely able to escape from his lips before he began to bury his head into your shoulder. He began to leave openmouthed kisses to the smooth, delicate skin of your neck, his canines gently prodding at the skin. The sting seemed to tease you, to ask you how far you were willing to let him go.

“So you are a vampire,” you remarked breathlessly, whining softly at each slow, tantalizing kiss.

You aren’t able to see it, but you feel the way his lips curve up into a smirk against you. The laugh that followed was mind-bogglingly euphoric, the vibrations rippling against the expanse of your neck so deliciously that the heat building between your legs became nearly impossible to ignore. Your hands trail down from his shoulders and smooth over his chest, an action that you found to elicit the prettiest sounds from your boss. You didn’t even know he was capable of such a thing. You wanted to know what else he was capable of.

“You want it here?” you asked, your hands gently pushing against his chest in an attempt to make him pay attention to your words. But it was like he couldn’t pry himself from you. You were given a mere grunt in response, and you felt his calloused hand hold the back of your neck, stroking your nape tenderly. With his face still buried against your skin, he inhaled the scent of you deeply. That alone seemed to make his yearning nature worse, his words barely escaping past the low whine that resonated in his throat.

“Wherever I can fucking have you,” Miguel said as he grasped you, hands cupping just beneath your jaw as his thumbs smoothed over your cheeks. The way he looked at you, half-lidded, pleading, and absolutely drunk off of your body, sent your mind reeling and melted your limbs as you pushed yourself into him. Your eyes darted around for a suitable place, but Miguel’s office wasn’t necessarily 5 stars when it came to comfort. Raising your head, your gaze locked onto the platform you both were just on. Meekly, you point up towards it, unsure if he would satisfy your request. His head followed as you reached out, and he vaguely scoffed.

You were about to suggest another place until his strong arm secured its way around your waist, and suddenly, you were being hoisted into the air alongside your boss. A yelp escaped your throat out of shock, desperately gripping onto Miguel’s body despite knowing you wouldn’t fall. The gesture made him chuckle in a way you had never heard before, the sound hearty and resounding deeply in his chest. And it seemed to drug you and fill your veins with such an unyielding desire; it made you wonder how something so simple as a laugh further fueled this indecorous addiction to him.

Before you even knew it, you were seated in the middle of the platform with him kneeling beside you. As you stared up at him, you were unsure of what to do. But it was like he had read your mind, resulting in a roll of his eyes and his sarcastic nature making a brief return. 

“You planning to just sit there?” Miguel huffed as he dragged you closer to him. “Lay down.” His tone is so enticingly irrefutable, so you comply, your back hitting the platform, the cold metal making you shudder. You stared up at him, curious as to how he was going to do this.

Slotting himself in between your legs, his fingers desperately tugged at the waistband of your pants before doing away with them entirely, barely noticing that he had taken your underwear with it. He marveled at what he had revealed, carefully tugging your legs apart as if he wanted to worship it further. His eyes flicked up to your face for just a painstaking moment, and it was hot from anticipation, worsening as he hovered between your legs, pressing kisses along your inner thighs.

“You want this?” he murmurs, his words deep and gravelly. You eagerly nod, fighting the urge to shiver from the coldness that overtook your lower half.

Suddenly, you didn’t have to worry much about the cold the moment you felt his warm breath graze you in just the right way. He pressed a wet, languid kiss to your heat, the saliva his tongue was slathering you with mingling with the arousal that began to pool. You were amazed at how effortlessly his ministrations manipulated your body, your chest rising and falling rapidly with each pleasured exhale. When did he have the time to be so good at this sort of thing?

Soon, you were introduced to his fingers, so lengthy and thick that they had your eyes rolling into the back of your head as they plunged inside you. Each call of his name seemed to spur him on, increasing his tempo and the lewd, obscene noises that echoed across his office. Before you even knew it, all of it was too much; the subtle curling and pumping of his girthy fingers, the flick of his tongue; it was like a wave had crashed over you, sending your thighs into convulsions. He slowed his movements as each thrust of his fingers grew more wet, easing you down from your high. The delicate touches lasted for a mere second before you were flipped over, your hips being dragged back as you felt your behind press against the outline of the stiff, rock-hard muscle at his crotch, a testament to how much he had been craving you.

What followed was a sweetly painful, visceral blur. You had heard the sound of his holographic suit retracting itself, and you turned your head, curious as to what you’d see. He smiled smugly at your doe-eyed expression upon seeing his goods, and the only thing occupying your mind was if he could fit at all. It wasn’t like you weren’t expecting it, he was a behemoth of a man after all. But seeing it up close, anticipating its entry was an entirely different beast.

But Miguel was experienced, having dutifully prepared you to take him, making it a more easy experience as his tip prodded your entrance gently, slowly easing himself in. The stretch was undeniably painful, your fingers clutching at the floor, desperately looking for something to hold onto. But as he pushed in further, the feeling transformed into a euphoric ache. He had been trying his best to remain silent to not attract any attention from the outside, but your name managed to fall from his mouth in a hoarse groan, harmonizing with the pathetic whines that you had been letting out. His hands pinned your wrists against the floor, the freezing nature of the floor beneath you contrasting with the heat that bounced between your bodies.

His vigorous pace slightly rocked the platform beneath you, threatening to tip over if Miguel had a mind to get rougher. However, he seemed to know his limits, effortlessly filling you up in a way that could satisfy you for lifetimes. Crude phrases left your swollen lips, each one a way to praise the man that was fucking you like his next mission was his last. The sound of your skin colliding with him was growing filthier with each second, more carnal. For a fleeting second, your mind filled with worry, anxious about anybody that could have been waiting outside his office. Anyone who stood within a 5-yard radius from the entrance could hear just about anything that was going on inside. But his fingers then came up to slither their way into the roots of your hair, yanking your head back far enough so he could whisper in your ear. “Keep talking, say you want me. Say it.”

And soon enough, you were begging for him, arms shaking as you struggled to hold yourself up as ripples of your orgasm traveled throughout your body, your slick absolutely drenching the both of you. Your pleas were what had done him in, his rhythm stuttering and his length pulsing inside you, unsheathing himself as he emptied himself all over your ass, the viscous liquid dripping slowly down its curve. For a moment, the both of you stayed where you were, worn-out breaths being the only thing you both could exchange as you tried to wrap your head around what you had done.

Surprisingly, Miguel had a thought for aftercare. He had retrieved a gym towel and cleaned you up, wiping away his release and your sweat as best as he could. “Still think you have to shower, though,” he commented, the smug undertone in his voice not going unnoticed.

“Back at you,” you quipped, though the smile never left your face as you redressed yourself.

You never thought you would have to try to sneak your way out of Miguel’s office, but considering how disheveled you were after your tryst with him, it was the only way to keep your dignity intact. The air outside was cooler, freezing against your skin that still burned with the residual warmth of his hands all over you. You shuddered. You definitely needed a cold shower.

After grabbing your spare clothes from your office, you found yourself in the ladies’ room. Stripping off your sweat-ridden clothes (you had a mind to scold him for not taking them off), you hopped into one of the showers and slid the privacy curtain shut behind you. The warm water was comforting, easily washing away the feeling of sex away from your body, but what remained emotionally was unexpected. The thought of seeing him again.

A nervous energy gnawed at your heart as you mindlessly lathered soap all over your body. The both of you just had a steamy hookup, but what would happen now? Your insides seemed to twist as you remembered the fact that seeing him at the end of the day was inevitable. The water from your showerhead seemed to pelt down at your skin now, creating an atmosphere perfect for overthinking. Was it a one time thing? Did he want more? Did he like you? Would he fire you? Thankfully, Miguel was due for a mission today, so you wouldn’t have to worry about seeing him before your scheduled time. That would give you enough space to cool your head. 

“Relax,” you told yourself, barely able to hear your thoughts over the pitter-patter of water droplets around you. “You just screwed your boss. Tough it out. Forget about it. Act like it didn’t happen.”

However, the memory of his hands tracing the contours of your back seemed to follow you like a ghost, sending shivers down your spine no matter how much you cranked up the heat of your shower.

–

Enclosed in the white, sterile walled haven that was your lab, you buried yourself in work, hoping that the hum of calibration machines and the countless lab tests were enough to get your mind off of your tumultuous morning. You decided that it wasn’t enough, sliding your headphones over your ears and blasting your favorite playlist on repeat just so you wouldn’t have to hear your inner turmoil.

And it worked, the hours effortlessly passing by in a blur. Holographic displays and paperwork filled your visions, the very tasks you used to complain about becoming a solace on your first day back at your lab. You didn’t expect to get much done considering the crowd you had easily amassed earlier that morning, but strangely, that stopped, and you were thankful. Your usual visitors came in: Gwen, a few Peters, and even Hobie, who apologized profusely for how much of a “halfwit” he was being earlier, all while simultaneously swearing that you would never tell another soul. You agreed, stifling a laugh, knowing you could never be upset with him. Despite feeling confused for what had seemed like the millionth time that day, things seemed to be falling back into place, and it would have been comforting if it hadn’t been for one thing. You couldn’t exactly unfuck your boss. You chastised yourself quietly for thinking about it again; you were doing so well.

Once again, he was consuming your mind to the point where you couldn’t set your mind straight as you tried to come up with a new substance for one of your Spiderwoman clients. She had asked for a chemical that could help her easily attract and control actual spiders in her vicinity. You had a vague idea of how to bring her idea to life, with cetyl acetate sitting in one of your beakers, but you couldn’t quite remember the other component no matter how hard you racked your brain.

You retraced your steps, checking and double-checking the labels of the countless chemicals that sat preciously in your lab. You felt frustration coil up within you as you consulted your reference binder, embarrassed that you even had to look such a simple thing up. By the time you had located the constituent, many a Spider had begun to leave, the chatter outside of your lab winding to a hush. After squeezing a few drops of farnesyl acetate into your beaker, you gave the substances a quick mix, noting how nice it smelt. And how familiar.

Everything building up in you had left you seeking refuge in your dainty office that sat in the corner of the lab. As you closed the door behind you, temporary relief washed over you, and it was then that you decided it would be best if you went home for the day. Retrieving your bag, you sighed as you sank into your chair, weariness finally settling in after hours of constant work. Fishing around your bag for your office key, your fingers brushed against a jar-shaped object. You brought along Lyla’s gift for retouching throughout the day, but it slipped your mind amidst the chaos of the day. Hoping the vanilla scent would ease your thoughts, you unscrewed the cap with purpose, hoping it would ease the tension in your skin.

Just as you were about to apply, the sound of the entrance doors hissing open disrupted your serenity. Ready to tell off whoever was disturbing your peace, you set down the jar, twisted the doorknob open, and stormed out of your office, only to be frozen in place as you were greeted by the one and only Miguel, his expression uncharacteristically sheepish. A new cut adorned his face, already in the process of regeneration as it had already scarred over. Different parts of his holosuit were damaged, leaving behind a glitch-like static; were those claw marks? He definitely had a rougher day than you.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up. “You alright? That looks like it hurt,” you remarked, tentative as you were unsure what the conversation would lead to.

Miguel simply shrugged, his eyes unable to find yours. “I, uh…the anomaly was more intense than I thought. Was a bit distracted, got roughed up,” he said, his voice a rare mix of honesty and humility.

Your brows furrowed together in sympathy despite the unspoken words between the two of you. “Did you need me to whip something up for you?” you offered, moving towards your box of plastic gloves.

It was only then that he looked up at you, his hand coming up, gesturing for you to stop in protest. “No! No, it’s okay. I’ll live.” He met your eyes, and you immediately knew that he was just as unsure as you were, the uncertainty giving way to a hint of vulnerability.

After a hesitant pause, Miguel finally spoke, the moment you were waiting for finally happening. “Look, about earlier…I’m sorry,” his words stumbling out. “It was unexpected.”

Although you had anticipated this answer, you couldn’t help but deflate upon actually hearing it. You weren’t expecting him to fall on his knees and ask for your hand, but you would’ve at least liked to hear him say that he enjoyed it. “You’re sorry? Would you rather have not done it all?” you accused, much to his chagrin.

“I– no, carajo , that’s not what I meant at all,” he sighed in irritation, running a hand through his hair. “I mean, it’s just…it caught us off guard. I’m not sorry it happened, I’m sorry that it was just…sudden, that’s all,” he huffed, not wanting to get into it with you.

For a moment, you pondered over his words. So he wasn’t opposed to sleeping with you. With impulsive thoughts bubbling up inside you, you were prodded to take the leap again. “Would you do it again?” you asked genuinely, an offer to him.

Miguel’s eyes widened in surprise, an exhale of relief shortly following, a chuckle mingled with his words. “Yeah, I’d do it again,” he answered, moving to step closer to you, and you didn’t mind. Just as it seemed as if he was about to sweep you into his arms again, he stopped in his tracks, his head turning to your lab bench as he fixated on the beaker, the one that was carrying your latest project.

Initially, you thought that Miguel was some sort of a stickler for cleanliness, so you felt embarrassed, reaching for your disposable gloves once again. “Oops, I’ll just put that away–”

“No,” he ordered with a familiar intensity in your voice, making you retract back to your original spot. He inched closer to the workbench, nostrils flaring as he sniffed at the mixture in the fragile glass. “What is that? Tell me,” he demanded, the urgency in his voice increasing tenfold.

Although you were weirded out by how much this seemed to matter to him, you answered earnestly. “Some…strange project one of the Spiderwomen wanted me to work on. Something to attract spiders, but just the males to prevent them from fighting. Synthetic pheromones, essentially.”

“Huh. Smells like how you did this morning,” he remarked almost immediately, raising a brow in confusion.

You stood there, utterly winded by his words, unsure of what to say. Was he saying this figuratively to flirt with you? But judging from the look in his eyes, he was deadly serious. As your eyes locked onto the concoction that you had made that morning, your mind went to the jar that was sitting on your desk, opened. Without another word, you rushed to your office, taking the jar of body butter and inhaling its aroma deeply. You felt your heart drop to your stomach in terror, the scents were strikingly similar. Turning the jar around in your hands with haste, your eyes scanned for the list of ingredients, silently praying you weren’t rubbing what you thought you were rubbing into your skin.

As you searched, you felt Miguel’s presence right behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he examined the jar with you, inexplicably drawn to it. “What’s that?” he inquired, the strain in his voice from before making a return.

“The lotion I put on this morning,” you said dreadfully, turning your head to look up at him sheepishly. Still confused, he met your gaze only for a moment before he searched through the neverending list of ingredients.

“What did you put in that beaker?”

“Farnesyl acetate and hexadecyl acetate. If it doesn’t say hexadecyl, try cetyl.”

After a minute of searching, Miguel hunched over you to point at a specific spot on the jar. Following his finger, you sighed, laying your eyes on the very thing you didn’t want to see.

“So…” you began awkwardly, unable to wrap your mind around the information bouncing around in your brain. It started to connect like dots: how you attracted the Spidermen in the morning by the dozen, Jessica’s remark about you smelling like a “woman”, Miguel’s sudden lust for you. Then the notable absence of your eager Spider-crowd after your shower. “As your head chemist, I can conclude that spider pheromones can work on…us.”

“Evidently,” Miguel responded, visibly dumbfounded. Seeming eager to prevent more chaos from occurring, he took the jar and its lid from your hands, screwing the lid tightly shut before placing it on your desk carefully. “Where’d you even get something like that?”

“I didn’t. Lyla got it for me,” you confessed. Your mind went to that mischievous hologram. Did she know? Was this a clever attempt to kickstart something between you and Miguel?

“Lyla, that minx...” Miguel trailed off, and you caught a glimpse of his eyes rolling before he squeezed them shut, pinching his nose bridge in an attempt to quell what presumably was a string of curses toward his assistant. Immediately, he swiftly turned around, muttering quietly to himself as he made his way towards his exit. “I ought to give her a piece of my mind…”

You stared after him, about to leave him to his own devices before a thought crossed your mind. You remembered Miguel’s biology, the very thing that made him Spiderman in the first place: his DNA was spliced with one of a spider, effectively making him 50% arachnid. The pheromones you had been unknowingly emitting would affect him more than anyone else, and it proved to be true. An uneasiness settled into your stomach, was that the only reason why he wanted you?

“Wait,” you called after him, your voice betraying your attempted nonchalance. Miguel paused at the doorway, leaning against it as he turned to look at you with an arched brow. His eyes silently asked you to proceed.

“Is it… just the pheromones?” you asked, feeling your stomach twist and turn into knots as you awaited his reply. “You know, about everything, uh, earlier.”

Miguel pushed himself off of the door. “Well, it definitely gave me the push I needed,” he admitted, sauntering over to you with a grin so smug you wanted to smack it off his face. “But, if we’re being honest, I would’ve done it eventually.”

You blinked, processing his words.”You mean that? But you’re kinda mean.”

He sighed loudly, stopping just in front of you. “Idiot. Yes, I mean it,” he muttered, leaning down to cup your cheeks in his hands, his face levelling with yours. “You drive me crazy.”

And the kiss that Miguel left on your lips afterward was more gentle than the hungry, needy one he gave you before, dispelling any doubts you had about the true nature of his feelings. His lips were like heaven, slightly chapped from the labor of his mission from earlier, but you didn’t care. When he pulled away, there was a soft playfulness in his eyes you had never seen before.

“You got it?” he teased, his thumb smoothing over your cheek.

You managed a nod, resulting in Miguel gently patting your cheek before releasing you and turning to leave, still insistent that he give Lyla a piece of his mind. Giggling at his antics, you were about to grab your things to leave until you saw his head pop in the entrance once more. “Yes?” you called out.

“Bottle that thing up and label it as a hazard,” he ordered in response, pointing toward the open beaker on the bench. “It’s damn near chemical warfare,” he mumbled before disappearing again.

“Yes, boss,” you complied, unable to fight the grin that was now plastered to your face. As you bottled up your concoction, you made a mental note to thank Lyla. Again.

originally posted on ao3! first fic i'm ever posting on tumblr and i'm so excited! feedback and suggestions for more stories are more than welcome!

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Nanami x Reader Fanfic Part 1

 Despite your crippling fear of men, your family sells you to the Doll House. Luckily, you end up with the handsome, gentlemanly Nanami as your trainer, and he’s about to show you how great a man can be. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Nanami’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Daddy kink. Hair pulling. Oral sex. Fingering. Divider by @benkeibear!

Ever since you can remember, you’ve had a crippling fear of men. Your father died when you were so small, you have no memories of him. You have no brothers, no uncles you’ve ever met, and you don’t even remember playing with any boy cousins as a child. Throughout your education, you only went to all girl schools. Otherwise, you’ve avoided going out in public as much as possible. 

As a child, your older sister told you scary stories about men being brutish monsters who only wanted to hurt girls. Looking back, you understand now that she was only teasing you. But those stories combined with the fact that you’ve never even had a full conversation with a man before has left you with quite the phobia. 

Even though you’ve watched movies and tv shows and seen men in that context, you’re still afraid of them. The fact that you find lots of fictional men attractive only confuses your emotions even more. You’ve spent years watching animated shows with men way too handsome to ever be real, developing crushes on them because they felt safe.

And your favorite, the one you’ve always been in love with despite him being made of ink and paper, is Prince Sebastian. In the cartoon, he’s a tall, muscular, blonde prince who is always a perfect gentleman to the women around him, always there to protect them from danger. Despite being an adult now, you still have a poster hanging on your bedroom wall featuring him. 

Now, you find yourself standing in the welcome room of the Doll House, waiting to meet your trainer. How did it come to this? Just yesterday you were cooped up in your room, playing video games. Then this morning, your aunt who raised you and your sister stormed into your room and announced that she was selling you to the Doll House. You thought she was joking at first. What she was saying was unthinkable! She was rich! She didn’t need the money! Sure, she’s been complaining a lot lately about you staying in your room all day, but you didn’t think she was this angry! 

You screamed, you cried, you made quite the scene. But then she told you that if you refused to sign the contract, she was kicking you out of her house and completely cutting you off. So you could live in a nice house with a rich man, or you could live under a bridge. To you, both options were terrifying. But one was slightly worse. 

If you live under a bridge, how would you watch your favorite shows or play your games? And who knows how many unsavory men would approach you? Dealing with one man would be much better. Or so you’ve been telling yourself since you got here. But… now that you’re here, and there’s a strange man on his way to get you and do unspeakable things to you… you can’t do it! 

You make a run for it, even though you’ve already signed the contract and met the owner, even though your aunt dropped you off and told you not to come back, you run out of the welcome room and into the front lobby, toward the exit. But just before you reach the door, you hear footsteps and voices behind you. One of them sounds like the owner, calling out your name. You’re so startled that you trip and crash to the floor, pulling off a perfectly humiliating face plant. 

For a moment, you just lie there, feeling stunned and defeated, the adrenaline that fueled your brief escape attempt all gone. Tears sting your eyes as you begin to cry, hiccuping pathetically as your shoulders shake. 

“Are you alright, miss?”

At the sound of a male voice, your body freezes up in terror. You turn your head to the side so you can look up. A man is squatting down beside you, holding out his hand. 

“Let me help you up,” he says in a soft voice. 

You blink away your tears as you stare at his face, and you realize something that momentarily shocks the fear right out of you. He looks exactly like Prince Sebastian! That blonde hair, those kind eyes, that muscular shape! It’s like the character just walked out of the tv! You never thought a real flesh and blood man could ever be as beautiful as Prince Sebastian, yet here he was! 

Still stunned, you take his offered hand and allow him to gently pull you up. It’s the first time you remember actually touching a man. 

He hands you a white handkerchief, spotlessly clean, and you use it to wipe your eyes. “Thanks,” you mumble, reaching the handkerchief back to him. 

“My name is Nanami Kento. I’m your trainer,” he says, and you can’t help staring at him. He’s your trainer? Prince Sebastian? Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. But no, you can’t let your guard down! He might be ridiculously handsome, but he’s still a man! 

You introduce yourself in a small, quivering voice. He nods and then calls over the lady working behind the front counter. “Can you take her to my room, please? And make sure she has whatever she needs.”

The lady smiles and nods, then heads back toward the welcome room. “Follow me. We’ll grab your suitcase on the way!”

Numbly, you follow after her. 

************************

Nanami waits until his new doll has left the room, then turns to the owner. “When you said she has a fear of men, I didn’t realize it was this bad,” he says, sighing. “So what’s going on? You normally don’t accept dolls who were clearly forced or coerced into signing the contract. She obviously doesn’t want to be a doll.”

The owner gives a sigh of her own. “Her aunt came and spoke to me yesterday. Apparently she threatened to throw the girl out if she didn’t sign.”

“Coercion,” Nanami says. “Despicable. So why did you accept?”

The owner looks him in the eye. “The aunt said that if I didn’t take the girl, they were going to sell her on the direct market. You know how things work there. It would be like tossing that girl into a lion’s den blindfolded and with her hands tied behind her back.” The owner pauses and sighs again. “I thought that if she’s trained by someone like you, at least it would be like tossing her in there with a sword and a shield. At least she’d have a fighting chance.”

She has a point. The whole situation leavrs a bad taste in Nanami’s mouth though. “So why is she afraid of men? Any past trauma I should be aware of?”

“None,” the owner says. “She’s just never been around men in her whole life. No male relatives. Went to all girl schools.”

“Hmm.”

“And Nanami,” the owner adds, her voice dropping a bit lower, “I know you’re not going to like this, but you’ll have to deflower her. Ordinarily I’d keep her a virgin and charge a premium for her, but in this case I think sending her out so unprepared would be exceedingly cruel.”

He looks toward the door the poor doll had disappeared through. “Only if she agrees to it.”

The owner nods. “Of course. Oh, and stay sharp. There’s something off about this whole thing. Her aunt is wealthy, and she even took half what I would usually offer. She seemed really determined to have the girl trained here. There might be something else going on.”

Nanami looks at the owner. “A punishment perhaps?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. But the contract was signed so we’ll see where this goes.”

*********************

Inside your trainer’s room, you find the place impeccably neat and orderly. There’s a large bookshelf filled with difficult-looking tomes, though you do spot a few fantasy novels you’ve read yourself. The bed is so smoothly made that you wonder if he even sleeps in it. The dresser has several bottles of expensive-looking cologne, and a peek in the closet reveals a wardrobe of stylish, fancy clothes in brands even you, who grew up in a wealthy family, haven’t heard of. They’re probably brands that focus on menswear, something you would be clueless about. 

The lady from the front desk sits your suitcase on the floor beside the closet and smiles at you. “You hit the jackpot, miss. Nanami is an excellent trainer.”

“He is?” you ask, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. 

The lady laughs. “Let’s just say that if I had to pick one of the trainers to be mine, I’d pick him in a heartbeat. He’s respectful and kind, and not to mention handsome. The dolls he trains are always sad to leave!”

That made you feel a little better, and you were grateful to her for trying to put you at ease. “Thanks for telling me,” you say. “That’s really good to know.”

She smiles and nods and leaves the room, and it only takes a few moments for your anxiety to return. Your trainer will be coming in here any minute. He’ll probably make you strip! He’ll make you touch him! He’ll touch you! Even if he’s gorgeous, you can’t handle that! 

You hurry over to the lone window in his room. It overlooks the back parking lot. You push the window up, opening it, and lean out to look down. The Doll House’s structure is elevated a several feet off the ground, but it’s still only one story. The drop doesn’t look too bad. You sling one leg out over the ledge, leaving you straddling the window. Just then, the door opens, and your trainer walks in. 

It only takes him a moment to assess the situation and realize what you’re doing. He rushes toward you, and in a panic you try to jump out, but your other foot catches on the window sill. You fall at a strange angle, reflexively reaching out with one hand to grab the ledge, screaming as you do. Your trainer is quick to action, lunging forward and grabbing your arm. 

Nanami pulls you back in through the window, and the two of you fall to the carpeted floor, you on top of him. Did he purposely turn so that his body would shield you from the fall? His strong arms are wrapped around you, holding you firmly but gently. You look up at him, and he seems upset. You let out a squeak of terror and scurry away from him, backing into the wall, still sitting on the floor. 

He stands up and dusts himself off. Oh no! Did his fancy clothes get dirty? Is he mad now? He looks at you with a strange expression. Something between exasperation and concern. “Before you hurt yourself trying to escape,” he begins, walking over to a polished shelf and pouring what looks like water into a glass, “why don’t we talk?” He steps over and hands you the glass. You take it, then sip the water. 

“Okay,” you say, feeling stupid now as you tuck your knees under yourself. 

“Let’s go over a few things,” he says. “First of all, I’m not going to hurt you. If there’s any pain involved in what we do, it will be thoroughly discussed and agreed upon beforehand. I’ll respect your boundaries. I won’t do anything that you don’t consent to.”

That doesn’t sound so bad. You start to relax just a little. 

“That being said, the more training you receive while you’re here, the easier things will be for you when you’re purchased,” he says. “I’m not here to make you miserable. I’m here to prepare you for the next ten years. It would be to your benefit to experience as many things as possible here, with me, in an environment where your wishes are respected, before you end up with an owner who might not be so patient.”

You know what he’s saying. “You mean, I should have s-sex with you.”

He nods. “That would be my recommendation, yes. But I won’t force you to do anything. It has to be your decision, and you don’t have to decide right away. For now, why don’t we start with something simple, like letting me help you up?”

He extends his hand to you, for the second time today. Earlier, you were so stunned by his resemblance to Prince Sebastian that you took his hand easily. Now, you hesitate, staring at him for a moment before reaching up and letting his large, warm hand envelope yours. He pulls you to your feet, and you end up standing so close you can see his face more clearly than ever. Ahhh, he really is incredibly handsome! 

“Now, is there anything else you’d like to try?”

You blink. “Right now?”

“If you want. Or we can wait until you’ve had more time to adjust.”

You think for a while. His muscular frame looks so inviting. You’re not sure how much you can handle, but you want to try. 

“Would a hug be okay?” 

He seems a little surprised, but he smiles softly at you. “Sure,” he says, before slowly putting his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace. It actually feels really nice! And he smells so good! For a brief time, you almost want him to make love to you right then and there. Your brain is filled with thoughts of him picking you up and carrying you to his bed, of him taking charge, pulling off your clothes, having his way with you. The thoughts leave you blushing, and you pull away. 

“That wasn’t so bad,” you tell him as he gestures for you to sit in a plush chair beside a table. 

“When the training begins, there will be some rules,” he says, sitting down in a matching chair on the other side of the table. “You are to refer to me as ‘Daddy’ at all times. If you misbehave, I’ll punish you. But, as I said, that’s something we can discuss and ease you into.”

You feel your heart pounding rapidly. Calling him Daddy? Punishment? It sounds terrifying, but also strangely hot. You’ve watched porn before, so you know a little about daddy kinks. You’ve always been kinda turned on when the man calls the woman “good girl”. You just never imagined, in your wildest dreams or nightmares, that you would end up in a situation like that. When you watched porn, it always felt distant, like something happening in another world. You’ve even masturbated to it, still never once imagining yourself in those positions. Men in “real life” were far too scary. 

“I’m going to leave the ball in your court,” he says. “You can tell me when you’re ready to officially start the training. Until then, I’ll keep a respectable distance and let you get accustomed to being here.”

His words are very reassuring. You can feel your anxiety beginning to melt away. Maybe, just maybe, you can get over your fear with a gentleman like him. 

That night, Nanami sleeps on a borrowed futon on the floor, giving you the bed. You feel terrible about that, but also relieved. While a small part of you was excited by the prospect of sharing a bed with him, a much bigger part was scared out of your mind to be in such close proximity to a man all night long. 

For three days, nothing really happens between you and your trainer. You do feel slightly more comfortable with him, sharing a room and a bathroom will do that, but aside from a couple more hugs and some accidental brushing of elbows, he hasn’t touched you. Deep down, you’re a little disappointed by that. 

You accompany him to the dining hall for meals, and you’ve met the other trainers. Most of them stay away from you, even as Nanami introduces them. You figure he’s informed them of your phobia. Just one of them occasionally comes a little closer than you’re comfortable with: the one named Gojo. He’s friendly and not at all threatening, but he’s still a man. So when he stops by the table you’re sitting at with Nanami, you can’t help sliding away from him a little, which results in you sliding closer to your trainer. 

On your fourth day at the Doll House, you come to a decision. It’s time to face your fears and begin the training! 

You wait until after dinner to tell Nanami. He’s standing at his dresser, loosening his tie in a way that makes you extremely weak. He occasionally makes polite conversation with you, but oftentimes he simply reads for a while before showering and going to sleep on the futon. Tonight, you approach him at the dresser. 

“Um, I think I’m ready to start now,” you say, your voice a bit shaky despite your best efforts to stay calm. 

He turns and looks at you. “Are you certain?”

You nod. “As certain as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright, then we need to discuss a few things.”

You feel yourself droop. You’ve hyped yourself up for some wild sexy times, but now you have to talk first? You really hope this conversation doesn’t get too awkward. 

“First of all, you should choose a safe word. Are you familiar with that term?” he asks. 

You are, or rather you’ve heard it used in porn or the smutty stories you read online, but you’re too embarrassed to admit that. “Not really,” you say. 

“You choose a word or short phrase that wouldn’t normally be used in the bedroom, and whenever you say it, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing. If you’re genuinely afraid or something hurts or just makes you uncomfortable, say the safe word. We’ll stop immediately and only resume once you’re comfortable again.”

“Okay. How about… snowcone?” you ask. 

“Snowcone? That’s fine. Don’t forget it,” he says. 

“I won’t.”

“Now, part of my training involves light punishment for bad behavior. Mostly spankings, hair pulling, and things of that nature. Nothing that’s going to seriously hurt. Is that something you can handle?”

You suspected as much, but hearing him say it out loud, in that smooth voice of his, makes you feel dizzy. The thought of being spanked by this man as he calls you a bad girl turns you on way more than you expected. It also scares you. A man! Touching you! But you beat back down the panic that’s threatening to undermine your decision and nod. “I think so. I want to try at least.”

He walks over to his bed and sits down. His legs are spread apart as he undoes the first few buttons of his shirt and then runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, leaving it a little bit messy with a few strands hanging over one eye. He gives you a look that nearly makes you buckle, and says, “Come over here and show daddy what a good girl you can be.”

Your jaw nearly drops, your breath gets caught in your throat, and your only response is to say, “I’ll be right back!” and flee to the bathroom. 

Slamming the door shut behind you, you grab a fluffy towel from a shelf and press it to your face, using it to muffle a scream. Is it a scream of terror? Of excitement? Even you don’t know. You pant for a few moments, trying to pull yourself together. 

He’s hot! He’s soooo hot! 

But he’s a man! 

He looks just like Prince Sebastian! 

But he’s a man! 

After several more deep breaths, you feel the panic subsiding. You can do this! You step out of the bathroom as if you’d simply powdered your nose and walk back over to Nanami. “Sorry, I just needed a moment,” you say, hoping he didn’t hear your garbled scream. 

He gives you a small, amused smile. He definitely heard it! But he only says, “That’s fine. Take your time.”

Ahhh! He’s such a gentleman! You want him to do unspeakable things to you! 

“C-can we start over?” 

“Of course. I believe I told you to show me what a good girl you can be,” he said. 

“Okay,” you say, feeling even more awkward than usual standing there in front of him. “How should I do that?”

He gives you another one of those sultry looks. “You can start by coming closer and getting on your knees.”

Oh shit. He wants you to suck him off! Can you do it? You’ve seen it done in porn countless times. Yes, you can do it! And after you’re done, maybe he’ll pat your head and call you a good girl! Ahhh! Just imagining it has your heart pounding! 

You take the few steps needed to be directly in front of him, so close he could hug you if he wanted to. Then you get on your knees, right between his thighs. You glance up at him, unsure of what you should do next. Do you open his pants? Wait for him to do it? This is a daddy kink scenario, so maybe you can just mimic what you’ve seen and read online. You look up at him with wide eyes. “What do you want me to do, Daddy?”

There’s a flicker of surprise on his face, but then he leans back slightly on his hands and says, “I’ll let you decide. What do you think would make Daddy happiest right now?”

You hesitate for just a moment more, then reach up and unbuckle his belt. Your hands are trembling as you unbutton and unzip his pants. This is it! You’re going to see and touch a real man’s cock! You see his boxers when you open his pants, black and classy. With your heart hammering wildly in your chest, you grip the waistband and pull it down, under a dick that seems way bigger than it should be. But what would you know? 

With one hand, you lightly wrap your fingers around the hard, hot organ. Feeling unsure, you gently move your hand up and down the length. It’s too dry! Isn’t it supposed to be slippery? Wait… maybe that’s why women in porn often lick or drool on it. You glance up at his face, and there’s no change in his expression. Should you just spit on it? But that doesn’t seem like a very “good girl” thing to do. 

“Can I lick it, Daddy?”

“If you want to,” he answers. 

Slowly, you lean forward and touch your tongue to the tip. You thought it would taste bad, but really there’s no taste at all. The only thing you detect is the pleasant scent of bodywash. Of course someone like him would keep himself immaculately clean. You move your tongue all around the tip, licking it the way you would a popsicle, then you move your tongue down the shaft, toward the base, trying to get it as wet as possible. You hear him exhale a breath, and your eyes dart up to his face. He looks like he’s enjoying this! 

You feel his hand in your hair, and then all at once he’s got most of it gathered in his grip, holding it firmly. It doesn’t hurt, but it does make you feel like he’s completely in control of this situation, and that in itself makes you wet. 

“Take it in your mouth,” he says, his grip on your hair getting just a little tighter. 

Eager to please him, you do as you’re told, letting him fill your mouth with his cock. It’s a scary feeling at first, as you adjust to breathing only through your nose and occasionally gagging around him when he slips a little too far down your throat. But somehow his hand pulling your hair is comforting. You realize you like being led. 

He pushes your head up and down his length, slowly at first, gently. It’s more like he’s guiding you than forcing you. Gradually he ups the pace, going a bit deeper into your throat, which automatically constricts around him. By now your lips are covered in drool and the sticky fluid leaking from his tip, making them glide along the shaft easily. 

After several minutes, you hear his voice again. “I’m going to cum,” he says, a very slight strain to his tone. “Don’t spill a drop.”

Before you can do anything to react to his words, his grip on your hair tightens as he pushes your head down, his cock going halfway down your throat. You feel the warm cum shooting out, sliding directly down to your stomach. You swallowed it all without even getting the chance to taste it.  

After he pulls out of your mouth, he gives you a few moments to catch your breath, then his hand releases your hair and rubs your head. “Good girl,” he says, and you think you might just faint. 

The hand rubbing your head slides down your neck, your shoulder, and then grips your wrist. He pulls you to your feet, and then into his lap. You’re sitting on one of his muscular thighs as he deftly tucks his dick back into his pants with one hand. His other hand is holding you in place, the arm wrapped around you from behind. 

“Are you alright?” he asks, a kind look in his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, surprised by how true that is. 

“Then, since you’re being so good for Daddy, why don’t I reward you?” he says, his free hand slipping under your skirt, between your legs. 

Your body jerks in surprise, and if he wasn’t holding you firmly in place, you probably would have tumbled out of his lap. His eyes are on your face, watching carefully, as his hand slowly slides down, inside the front of your panties. He’s taking his time, giving you ample opportunity to use the safe word. But you don’t, because despite the fear you’re currently feeling, you don’t want him to stop. 

His fingers softly rub your most private place, gently parting the slick flesh, one finger quickly finding your clit. You gasp and clutch his arm, the sensations nearly overwhelming you. 

“Does that feel good?” he asks, his voice close to your ear. 

You nod your head, murmuring, “Mmhm.”

His fingers traces circles around your sensitive nub, then strokes it, making you release little mewling cries. 

“Tell me how it feels,” he says, almost in a whisper. “Use your words.”

“It feels… so good, Daddy! S-so so good! Nothing has ever felt so good!”

You suddenly wrap both arms around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder. The pleasure is too intense! He’s way too good at this! His fingers never stop, even as you quiver in his grip, even when you cry out “Daddy!” as you cum, your whole body shaking. 

While you’re still trembling through your orgasm, with his hand still in your panties, he says, “There’s another rule you need to be aware of. In my training, you have to earn pleasure by being a good girl. You’re not allowed to pleasure yourself. Do you understand?”

You nod against his shoulder, feeling too dazed to speak. 

The hand that was holding you in place moves up to grip your hair and pull your head back so he can see your face. It’s not a harsh action, but a firm one. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Daddy,” you say, and he releases your hair, then smoothes it down gently.

“That’s my good girl.”

**********************

Nanami sits in a chair in his room, thumbing through a book he bought recently and sipping wine. His doll is fast asleep in his bed, exhausted from the intense training session. 

He had made sure she was okay, physically and emotionally, before drawing a hot bath for her in his private bathroom and then later helping her into bed. They will be sharing the bed now that the training has begun, and she seemed okay with that before she fell asleep. 

Nanami is actually quite surprised by her. He had guessed it would be at least a week before she would be willing to try any sort of training, but here she is on the fourth day, practically swallowing his cock. She’s facing her fears, and that’s admirable. 

Though her escape attempts and nervous, terrified energy are exasperating, he also has to admit that he finds her amusing. Earlier, when she ran to the bathroom to scream, it was all he could do to hold back his laughter when she returned and acted as if nothing happened. She was definitely a strange one. 

He closes the book and stands up to stretch. His mind is already full of plans for tomorrow, for the various training exercises he can try with her. He doesn’t want to push her too far and make her fear of men worse, but he also wants to make sure she’s fully prepared for her life as a doll. He’ll do all he can to help her, that much is certain. 

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx 

[nimbusghoul]

The Nice Soap-Viktor x Bimbo!Reader

Pairing:Viktor x Reader

Type: Fluff TO smut for the entirety

Fandom:Arcane/LoL(more Arcane Vik than LoL Vik, let me have my twink, okay?)

WC:1337 This is just a sneak peek, if you want more, I'll continue to provide, Don't hate me!

Viktor was never one to catch feelings easily, but when you came into his life from being a good friend of Jayce, he began to feel something new.

When Jayce introduced you to him, he didn’t know how to react to your bubbly air headed nature, it was new. Sure, Jayce is charismatic, but he didn’t shine as bright as you did, you could light up the whole room with a personality like that.

Maybe you weren’t the smartest, but you were an amazing listener, and things didn’t seem to get to you very often. Usually just in one ear and out the other, but when you were interested, your body language changed, anyone could tell you were paying attention, even if you usually didn’t fully understand.

You’d turn yourself towards him and lean in again or prop your elbows on the table and put your chin in your hands, kicking your feet a bit, and it was when you would ask most of the questions.

“What’s that?”

“What, a Hex Core?”

“Mhm! I dunno what that is, Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, I understand not everyone has the same knowledge. Ehh, a Hex Core is an adaptive rune matrix with Hextech in the middle…the potential for ultimate advancements in technology!”

“ohhh!… what?? I dunno what that stuff is either, i mean, i know what runes are but…what’s…all the other stuff??”

Viktor took a minute, how would he explain this without making you feel like you had less and less knowledge? He would never want to hurt your feelings, you were too pretty to be sad.

“Hextech uses magic to create artifacts, it’s made up of a special crystal. It can do all kinds of things, not just for me and the hexcore is full of hextech, which means it has all kinds of that magic.”

“Sounds like a lot of math, which i’m not good at. I think I’ll stick to less complex things and let you handle all of that genius people stuff”

You were really the only person who could distract him from his work. He had completely forgotten about the papers in front of him, his focus was on you, even if the papers were the thing you asked about. He realized he doesn’t ever really ask any questions that he had for you

“May I ask you an…odd question?”

“hm, of course! just make sure it’s not too complicated of a question? really big words get me all confused…”

“Of course of course. Those nails of yours, are they real? like, your actual nail? they’re quite long.”

“What? god no, these are made with powder polymethylmethacrylate and a monomer liquid!”

You turned over you hand and tapped on the underside of your nails, Viktor was a little shocked from that long word you managed to string out describing the acrylic powder

“So…they are plastic?”

“Nope! You gotta put the liquid with a bit of the monomer and then put it on top of a guide, sometimes plastic? but I like to use my silicone one because it peels better, and thennn you put the whole thing under UV light for it to harden and they’re so much better than fake plastic nails! fake nails that are plastic feel so icky and come off WAYYY too easy. plus nail glue can fuck up your skin soooo bad!”

“ah, i see, so you know a lot about this topic?”

“Of course! if i’m gonna look pretty I have to be healthy and to be healthy i have to know what Im doing to my body! That’s why I like hate cOsMeTiC sUrGuRiEs cause like everyone is beautiful in their own way and the fact that people think they have to pay to be beautiful is really disgusting! everyone was made to grow differently, just because you don’t look like your neighbor or your pretty classmate doesn’t mean you aren’t pretty or attractive or perfect! But like Botox for headaches is fine, it helps with migraines!”

“I see you feel very strongly about these things, Is there a reason why? Perhaps a connection to memories in which it makes you upset about this topic?”

“Well…I just want everyone to be happy, you know? and if you hate yourself because you don’t look like everyone else…that’s not happy. The only thing that’s truly ugly or unattractive is the way we treat some people, and the awful things we say and do. Ugly doesn’t exist *on* people, it exists *in* people.”

You turned to Viktor after finishing a sentence, a small smile, the first real one you’ve seen, but you decided not to say anything, having an internal celebration instead of external. Celebratory of small victories(or should i say Viktories, okay yeah i’ll see myself out sorry), it was rare to see Viktor smile from what Jayce has told you.

“You are very different from me, and yet i enjoy the company you provide, it’s quite odd, with how different our knowledge is you’d think I would be annoyed with all your questions, but you also have knowledge I don’t. I do not look into what I wear or the lotions, soaps and sanitizers I put on my hands-”

You were quick to accidentally cut him off, suddenly remembering why you came to the lab in the first place, even when it slipped out on the way from your home to the lab.

“OHMYGOODNESS!! I tOTALLY forgot about that! Sorry, I didn’t mean to cut you off, but I wanted to say I got you some new soap because i was reading the ingredients and yours contained formaldehyde!! that’s probably why your hands are always so dry, that is so bad for your skin! I also got you some lotion because they’re so dry from that awful soap…”

You quickly dug through your purse, pulling out a large bottle of moisturizing hand soap and some hand lotion with aloe, quickly placing them on the desk

“I literally went to the market at like 8 this morning because I knew that’s when they first set up so like they weren’t all gone when I got there!”

“You did this for me?”

“pshhh, yeah! and i got my pet some more of those cute special treats, they only get sold like twice during the week and they’re all gone in like an hour. it’s so terrible if I can’t get my sleepy butt up in time to get some!”

“Are they truly that important?”

“Well, my pets are like…my family! they’re like my little babies and I would literally assault whoever the hell runs this universe for my babies?”

“I apologize, I was speaking about the soap.”

“Oh, oops! Yeah, I wanted to get you something nice, plus, all the really nice ones sell out so fast! Especially like when this huuuuge group of wives come through and buy like literally everything nice.”

"Group of...wives?"

"Yeah, like, you know, middle aged women who don't need so much damn soap?"

"Ah..."

he seemed to take a pause to think

"Why...for me? Why not for Jayce?" He asked, looking up at you

"What? Your hands are dry, Jayce doesn't have...all that as an issue...you know?"

He seemed surprised as he thought before laughing quietly

"How are you so sure what my hands feel like? I'm sure Jayce is very touchy...but you know, I am not."

You felt your face heat quickly

"Well, I- they sound dry! You know, when you rub your hands together and it sounds...dry, like you can't hear my hands unless I rub them together really hard!"

He chuckled softly at your embarrassment before standing

"I find it cute that you care. Thank you, Солнышко(sólnyshka)"

-CUTOFF FOR PREVIEW-

[hllywdwhre]

Blurred Lines

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary: You come to Jonathan with a new idea that he’s more than willing to help you test.

Warnings: Ideas any psychological association would frown upon, Jonathan being Jonathan and getting off on fear, I’m gonna be honest I didn’t have the patience to write a lot of plot soo…. You’re getting enough to set up the story but that’s about it, needles, unprotected p in v, technically recording a sex tape but under the guise of ‘it’s for science’, lowkey (highkey) doctor/patient kink, bondage, dirty talk, degradation, light spanking, fingering

Word Count: 3.2K

Notes: I need help and a lot of it

You and Jonathan had worked together at the asylum for a couple months now. You were one of the only therapists that he could stand to work with, and it was purely because you took an interest in his… less than ethical ideas. Your interest in these ideas, mixed with the attraction you held towards him, lead to your own less than ethical idea.

The two of you typically stayed late at the asylum to work on paperwork. Usually, this involved you helping him with his and you teasing him about how you deserved a pay raise for being a psychiatrist and his assistant.

Tonight your teasing was absent as you thought over how to bring the idea up to him. You sat on the opposite side of his desk, sorting through a stack of papers. Deciding to bite the bullet and just spit it out, you cleared your throat and drew his attention to you.

“So, I had an idea about a way to overcome certain phobias,” you said, still looking down at the stack of papers as you flitted through them.

“And what would that be?” Jonathan asked, briefly glancing up at you before returning to his own stack of papers.

“It’s a mix of classical conditioning and exposure therapy.”

“Sounds like something that’s been tried before. Offer a reward to a patient so the patient associates their fear with a positive reinforcement instead of a negative memory,” he said dismissively, brushing you off.

“Yes,” you said, your voice turning hesitant, “but that’s not all for my idea… mine involves a different type of positive reinforcement.”

This seemed to catch his attention. He looked up at you, an eyebrow quirked.

“What type of reinforcement?”

“Well, what are the physical and chemical similarities between fear and arousal?” You asked. Both eyebrows raised as he seemed to catch an idea of where this was going, but he answered your question as if he was clueless just so you would continue explaining.

“They both release adrenaline and cortisol, and they both increase heart rate and breaths per minute.” His voice was calm as he answered, but the way his eyes remained glued to you as he answered revealed his interest.

You nodded your head and continued,

“And when you orgasm, the adrenaline and cortisol mix, along with hormones and chemicals specific to sex. You get a state of temporary bliss which can lead to the person experiencing the orgasm even developing fond feelings towards their partner. My idea would capitalize on those feelings of post-orgasmic bliss and use them to help people overcome their fears.” The words came out rushed but they had captured his attention even further.

Jonathan leaned back in his chair, the paperwork on his desk long forgotten now as he studied you and let the idea run wild through his mind.

“The theory is an interesting one, I’ll give you that,” he said, pausing for a moment before adding on, “but who would be willing to have this theory tested on them?”

A blush tinted your cheeks and you looked away from him.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it, it’s just a bit difficult to test… alone,” you said in a voice that was just barely audible.

He stood up from behind his desk and came to stand in front of you, one hand going under your chin to force you to look at him.

“I thought you had lost the ability to surprise me when you found out about my fear toxin, but here we are,” his voice trailed off as he continued to take you in. You could see his mind working a mile a minute behind his eyes as he went over your idea again and again in his head. After what felt like an eternity, he spoke again, “I’ll help you test this, but only on certain conditions.”

Your eyebrows rose in shock. You didn’t know what you had expected his reaction to be, but a willingness to test your theory with you wasn’t how you thought he’d respond.

“What are they?” You asked.

“Firstly, I’m not blind. I know you didn’t just come to me with this idea because of my own unethical ideas. This entire experiment involves sexual attraction being needed, and I’ve noticed the way you look at me.” Your cheeks darkened even more as he called you out on your attraction to him, and this only made him chuckle. “If we do this experiment, I’m the only one who gets to see you like that. No one else.”

You resisted the urge to tease him and ask if this was his way of asking you to be his girlfriend, knowing it would get you nowhere and somewhat fearing the answer. Instead, you nodded your head once to say you understood.

“Next, we’d have to record these sessions. Neither of us are going to be in a clear enough space of mind to pay much attention to anything else during the session,” he said.

You nodded again. You knew you definitely weren’t going to be able to concentrate on anything aside from him during the session.

“Lastly, we’d have to do these sessions at my personal lab. Meaning you’d be seeing where I live along with a multitude of other things that I’ll need your word you won’t say anything about.”

“I haven’t said anything about your fear toxin, have I?” You pointed out, causing him to chuckle again and shake his head.

“No, I suppose you haven’t,” he admitted.

“Not to mention that you’re literally going to have a sex tape of me. If I said anything about this, both of our careers would be ruined,” you added on.

“I take it that means you agree to my terms?” He asked.

“Yes, I do,” you confirmed.

“Then how would you feel about starting the first session tonight? It’s a long weekend so neither of us have work on Monday in case you need an extra day to recover,” he offered, causing another look of surprise to rise on your face.

“I-uh, o-okay,” you stuttered out, watching as the familiar smirk grazed his lips.

The two of you gathered your things and made your way out to his car with him telling you he would bring you by to pick up your car the next day, but that there were a couple more things he wanted to go over with you on the ride there. You both put in place a safe word, deciding to use the color system. If everything was okay and he checked in on you, the color was green. If you needed things to slow down, you could say yellow at any time. And if you needed things to come to a complete stop, you could say red. He also informed you that there were already security cameras recording his lab, so both of your every moves would be recorded the entire time.

When you arrived back at his house, you followed him inside, taking in the area while he led you to his personal lab. You followed him through the doorway and down to the basement, entering into a room that looked exactly like a lab. You could see where it was once just a finished basement, but now there were tables full of various chemicals and, in the corner, a doctor’s examination bed, along with plenty of other things scattered throughout the room.

Plenty of questions flooded your mind, but you thought better than to ask them. The less you knew about what he did outside of work, the better.

“You said your fear was needles, correct?” He asked, causing you to turn and look at him.

“Yes. No particular reason for the fear, though,” you answered.

“I’ll gather everything if you want to go sit down and get ready,” he said in a voice devoid of emotion, as if you were just another patient he was treating.

You stripped naked and sat on the table, feeling what you were sure was going to be a permanent blush on your face.

Jonathan walked over a moment later with a tray that was covered and set the tray on the table. Despite the way he was trying to remain somewhat professional, you noticed the way his eyes raked over your figure, taking in every inch of you.

“Do,” he stopped and cleared his throat, another sign that he was affected by this the same as you were, “do you think you’ll need to be restrained?” He asked.

This time you couldn’t stop yourself from letting the teasing comment leave your lips,

“I don’t think I’d need to be restrained, but I’m okay with a bit of bondage if you are,” you said, a smirk making its way across your lips as you spoke.

Jonathan’s eyes shot to yours and you felt a bit of smug satisfaction at the way you had been able to catch him off guard.

“Quite the little minx, aren’t you?” He asked in a teasing tone of his own.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Crane. Being tied up is just the tip of the iceberg.” With every sign of attraction towards you Jonathan let show, you felt your confidence boost, and this only seemed to spur him on.

He came to stand in front of your naked form, looking down at you and placing a hand under your chin again to keep you from looking away.

“Seems like it,” he agreed. His hand went from under your chin to the back of your neck, “maybe I’ve finally met my match,” he commented before pulling you to him.

Jonathan’s lips met yours in a hungry kiss and the last of your insecurity faded quickly. He kissed you as if he was a starved man and you were the only thing that could satiate his hunger. His tongue slid past your lips as he laid you back on the examination bed and crawled onto it himself. Your hands made their way to his hair, tugging slightly and eliciting a moan from him.

One of his hands went to your hair and pulled, exposing your neck to him. He left a line of kisses down it while nipping at random spots before he continued down further.

“F-fuck, Jonathan,” you moaned out when his mouth attached to one of your nipples.

His hand left your hair to play with your other nipple before he traded off and took your other one into his mouth, letting his tongue dart around it at the same time that his hand trailed between your legs.

“A bit of kissing and having your tits played with you gets you this worked up?” He taunted as he felt just how wet you were already, “Or did the idea of me strapping you to this table and doing as I please with you have something to do with it?”

Another moan fell from your lips as he teased you and began to rub gentle circles on your clit.

“Please, Jonathan,” you whined, your hips pushing against his hand as you desperately tried to get him to apply more pressure than the faint touches he was currently using.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he said in a voice of faux sympathy before pulling his hand away. Before you could protest, he was strapping your wrists to the side of the table and crawling off of you to do the same to your legs.

Your legs were hanging off the edge of the table and bent at the knee and he crouched down to strap your ankles in place. There was no way for you to close your legs from him, leaving you on display.

When he stood back up again, there was an almost predatory look in his eyes as he took you in.

“All tied up for me,” he commented, trailing his hand along your inner thigh as he spoke, “a perfect little toy.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the pet name and it didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“All those times I caught you staring at me and I couldn’t figure out why,” be continued teasing, his fingers beginning to rub at your clit again and causing another moan to leave you, “who would’ve known it was you fantasizing about me tying you up and leaving you completely helpless to whatever I decided to do with you?”

With his free hand, he picked up something off of the tray he brought over earlier and revealed the object to you. It was an empty syringe and you felt your heart lurch when your eyes landed on the needle.

A slap was delivered to your inner thigh, causing your eyes to shoot back over to him,

“Eyes on me. You’re my toy, you watch me, not the needle. Understood?”

You nodded your head but another slap was delivered to the opposite thigh,

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” you replied, stopping yourself before you said ‘sir’ and giving him a sly smirk, “yes, Doctor.”

The firm look he had been giving you changed. His eyes darkened and you could see the way he hadn’t expected for the use of his title in that manner to affect him so much.

“Such an obedient little thing,” he praised after a moment before pushing two fingers into you. He immediately curled them upward and caused you to let out another moan. “Such an obedient and twisted little thing. I lead you into my basement, tie you down, and give you a couple slaps and you’re this wet already? I could only imagine how you’d react if I got to treat you exactly how I wanted.”

The entire time he spoke, he was thrusting his fingers in and out of you, making sure to curl them and hit that spot inside you every time while your pathetic moans and whimpers continued filling the space.

“Then again, judging by the way you’re reacting to this, you’d probably get off on it.”

His words should’ve caused some amount of shame inside you, but at the same time they registered in your head, you felt the cold touch of the needle trailing down your cheek and towards your neck. The sensation caused you to freeze for a moment, but when his fingers curled inside you and he used his thumb to begin rubbing at your clit, the shame left your mind.

“Fuck, darling, you might’ve been onto something combining fear and sex,” he said with a chuckle, “Especially if you clench around my cock the way you clenched around my fingers.”

You felt your mind and body battle with themselves as he continued to trail the needle down your body while his fingers continued to work at you. The needle’s presence sent your body into fight or flight, but with nowhere to go, you became keenly aware of every sensation. You could hear the rumble in his voice and the feeling of Jonathan’s fingers inside of you seemed to be amplified, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm already.

“There we go,” he coaxed, “let the pleasure and fear blur together. Cum on my fingers like the good little slut you are while I’ve got a needle pressed against you, and maybe I’ll let you cum on my cock.”

Fuck, you knew there was something wrong with you, but you couldn’t care less. Jonathan’s dirty talk, the unrelenting rhythm of his fingers inside you, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit, and the presence of the needle heightening your senses caused your orgasm to hit you full force.

Your head fell back on the bed as you moaned out and you felt the needle press against your tied up arm. The pace of Jonathan’s fingers never faltered as he pushed you through your orgasm and let you ride out your high.

When he finally did remove them, your head was spinning and your breathing was heavy. It was the sound of his belt hitting the floor that grabbed your attention and caused you to look down at him.

“You have no idea how much control it took for me to not ruin our first session and drop the needle and go ahead and fuck you,” he said, stepping between your legs.

“Thought you said I was your toy? Sounds like that makes it your decision on when you fuck me,” you commented through the haze of your mind.

“It does,” he said, dragging the tip of his dick through your folds, “and I wanted to see the way you looked when you couldn’t decide if fear or lust was going to win out before I fucked every thought out of that pretty little head of yours.”

Whatever response you had was lost as he pushed his cock into you. Your jaw fell slack and a pathetic mix of a whine and moan filled the room as he filled every bit of you. His hands gripped your hips and he gave you just enough time to adjust to the way his cock felt inside of you before he was setting a brutal pace.

A symphony of his name and curses left your mouth and he seemed to revel in the way you sounded and looked beneath him.

“God damn,” he swore, “it’s like your cunt was made for me,” he said while his hand came down to rub at your clit, watching the way your back arched off the table.

“Please, Doctor,” you begged, not even sure what you were begging for.

He sped up the pace of his thrusts and removed his other hand from your hip to begin rolling your nipple in between his fingers, going back and forth between the two.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He taunted, “for me to tie you down and fuck you? For me to use you however I wanted?”

“Y-yes, Doctor,” you stuttered out between moans, feeling your orgasm creep up on you again.

“Such a good little toy. Getting off on being reminded of your place with me,” he chuckled, “Go ahead then. Cum on my cock and prove how much you want to be my little fuck toy.”

It didn’t take much longer for your back to arch off the table again, his fingers still rubbing at your clit in perfect rhythm with his thrusts.

Once he was sure you had ridden out your high, Jonathan’s thrusts sped up and he began chasing his own, cumming inside you after only a moment longer.

The both of you took a couple moments to catch your breath and then he was pulling out of you. He undid your restraints and helped you to sit up, making sure you were okay before kissing you again.

“I meant what I said back at the asylum,” he said against your lips, “No one else.”

You shook your head the slightest bit, still kissing him in between his words, “I don’t want anyone else. I came to you with the idea for a reason.” You pulled away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes, a playful look crossing your face as you spoke again, “Besides, I can’t wait to see your reaction as you learn more of what I’m into if that was the reaction I got for something as simple as being tied up.”

Jonathan chuckled and shook his head slightly,

“You little minx,” he muttered, kissing you once more.

[oh-no-its-bird]

*falls out of a tree with a yelp*

There needs to be more people horny gripping for 40 year old Tobirama. Not enough people got to appreciate him. So I propose....

Tobirama and Kagami being yeeted back in time together via, Tobirama trying to save Kagami during his last stand but his blood loss made him have less control over his teleportation and instead of moving towards his other students Tobi moved himself and Kagami to the past. They proceed to do the usual of, making the village happen sooner as the norm of Naruto time travel fics lol

Except now Kagami is trying to keep Madara and/or Izuna from fucking his dad, who is not helping because he thinks this is funny. Do the brothers have Daddy Issues? Maybe...but older Tobirama go BRRRRRRRRRR

I am ringing the bell in the town square yelling ¡¡¡¡¡¡¡ OLD MAN FUCKER !!!!!¡¡¡¡ THERES AN OLD MAN FUCKER IN MY INBOX !!!!!!!! For all to hear

Kidding but only bc 40 isn't old enough to make u eligible for the title. Still ringing the bell tho

I'm in fucking tears tho that would be such a great crackfic.

Older Tobirama time travels w Kagami and instead of being a tense political drama ab the differences between his younger self and older (in some ways, both versions are harder and softer than eachother— just in different departments) and what this means for the future of Konoha. And the implications of having 2 Tobiramas and 2 Kagami's, and how older Tobirama must decide what to do about Madara's inevitable defection.

Instead of all that. It's just 11k words of Madara horny gripping his thighs, breathing heavily as he stares at older Tobirama from across a peace talk table as Izuna screams into a paper bag and Hikaku looks like he's having an out of body experience.

Make it funnier actually. Trick the readers and make the first bit of the fic like. Super serious and from (young) Tobirama's POV

He is living in that tense political drama ab facing the man he will one day grow to be, and meeting his future adopted son (who is an uchiha!!!) And all these implications and heavy moral dillemnas of that peace really means and if he will allow it to soften himself like it has done to this older him. But also if he will allow it to harden himself too— but then, won't that happen anyways as the years go by?

Then like halfway through the chapter u get the Madara POV and it's just him screaming internally ab how bad he wants to hit that.

The things he wants to do to that man...the things he wants that man to do to him...... he is mentioning these Things(tm) to Izuna and Izuna punches him in the face then screams to never talk to him again and runs away to probably scream into a pillow for an hour.

Hikaku tries to talk to Madara and learns More Than He Needed To Know and promptly stands up and power walks away

Meanwhile Izuna is actually attracted to older Tobirama but unlike Madara, who seems to be overwhelmed with it enough to cancel out any other thoughts and feelings, is really fucking mad about it

He wants to climb him like a tree. He also wants to murder him in his sleep. These two things are not mutually exclusive.

Hikaku approaches him, intending to commiserate ab Madara / let Izuna vent a bit bc hes clearly wound up and needs it. Only for Izuna to let slip his own (honestly much more alarming) fantasies. Hikaku is fucking going THROUGH it.

Meanwhile, (young) Tobirama in the bg, seeing none of this: "The true nature of peace...can someone like me really help create such a thing?"

(Older) Tobirama is enjoying the show and absoloutley aware of his effect.

Kagami needs him to STOP. This is the worst thing to ever happen to him in his life.

Uhh endgame one or both Tobirama's end up sleeping w Hikaku (the younger version possibly getting into a relationship w him after the elder leaves?) bc this is the funniest outcome to me. And Madara and Izuna lose their fucking minds ab it

[talesof-old]

nightly studies | c.w.

pairing(s): charlie weasley x male!reader

warning(s): 18+, smut, blowjobs, slight edging, very slight voyeurism?, sharing an apartment, shower sex, needy reader, reader has a penis, not proofread or edited, i don’t know what i’m doing i wrote this in one sitting

word count: 1.7k

a/n: so originally the request was for while charlie and reader were at hogwarts but that would make them underage so i changed it so they’re working at the romanian dragon reserve

i did change the request just a tad, so i hope that’s fine!

masterlist

charlie weasley + smut

You’d been listening to Charlie talk about the characteristics of the Antipodean Opaleye for at least thirty-five minutes. You glanced at the clock on the apartment wall and grimaced.

23:49.

You shifted in your seat, pants rubbing against your dick in an unforgiving tease, leaving you nearly gasping. It couldn’t be helped; Charlie was most attractive when he talked about the things he was passionate about, and one of those things just happened to be dragons. The two of you had been studying for the newest addition to the Romanian dragon reserve for hours at this point.

One glance over at Charlie solidified the inkling that stopping for release would not be an option. You sighed, grabbing your previously abandoned quill and marking the notes sheet you’d made.

“-and it’s got to be one of the prettiest dragons I’ve ever seen.”

You nodded along, finishing your note about adult breeding habits. At least someone was getting ducked down.

A gentle hand touched your thigh, high enough that you nearly jumped out of your skin. “You alright, love?” Your face burned but you hummed, nodding at the redhead. He leaned closer, head just inches from yours.

“Are you certain?”

You rolled your shoulders back and spared him a glance. His eyes glittered in the soft candlelight, which under any other circumstances would have you kissing him like a starved man. He jerked his chin towards your papers. You huffed, handing him the pages with words still damp from ink.

“Blimey, you’ve gotten far more done than I have.” You shook your head. A soft smile fought its way to your lips; of course Charlie Weasley didn’t have to write any of the information down, he was Charlie Weasley. The other dragonologists didn’t joke about him being the Walking Dragon Encyclopedia for nothing.

“Not all of us can keep all of that information in our brains.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The stubble on his chin rubbed against the sensitive flesh of your face, reminding you of a much different place you’d like to feel it. You shifted in your seat again. The boner you’d been rocking for what felt like an eternity seemed to grow more sensitive with every moment. If you glanced up, you might’ve noticed the all too knowing smile on Charlie’s face.

Silence fell over the both of you, save for the scratching of quills against parchment or the clinking of metal in ink pots. It droned on and on, echoing like a drum in your ears. Charlie, potentially intentionally (and infuriating) oblivious, dutifully wrote out the notes he imagined he’d need later.

A part of you hated him for it.

The other part of you ended up winning, however. A quick glance at the clock told you it was twenty past midnight. Your shared roommate’s shift ended in just a little over an hour.

“How much longer you got?”

Charlie’s brow furrowed in mock innocence as he flipped through several pages then turned to you.

“Dunno, maybe a chapter?”

You clicked your tongue. “You have fifteen minutes. Please come to the bedroom when you’re done.” He simply blinked at your request; a borderline plea for him to follow.

“Love, you know I love you dearly, but why…?”

You stacked your own books neatly, putting a lid on your ink pot and organizing your paper. His expectant words had you gnawing at the inner part of your cheek.

Heat spread across your neck. Was he really going to make you explain yourself? Truly?

Instead, you stood.

In moments, Charlie’s face was beat red, though the shit-eating grin on his face let you know he was far from embarrassed—or surprised. You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face and shuffling to the bedroom.

“Be there soon as I finish, love. Don’t get started without me.”

His words turned firm. You bit your lip, closing the door behind you and undressing quietly. Night shifts sometimes ended earlier than normal due to the overlap of shifts, so there was a chance your roommate Sasha would be back at any moment.

You crawled into bed, clad in nothing but underwear, body nearly trembling with anticipation. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your eyelids despite the tension that seemed to snake through every inch of your being. Sleep would come quickly tonight.

Your cock ached at the lack of touch, enough that you seriously debated starting without your boyfriend. Time dragged as you laid among the soft sheets. Another glance at the clock.

00:52.

You groaned, head flopping back onto the pillow. Privacy was rare to come by these days, especially at the Sanctuary. Both of you loved your job with every fiber of your being, but damn if it didn’t sometimes get to you. It was like being in school all over again.

The door creaked open and Charlie’s sheepish smile instantly had you raising a brow.

“Sasha’s back.”

You nearly wept.

“Come on, I’ve got an idea.”

Charlie crossed the room to tug you from the bed, all but dragging you into the bathroom. The cogs in your brain slowly but surely started turning. A grin spread across your face.

“Shower sex? Really? Well you sure know how to seduce someone.” Charlie shook his head and wrapped his arms around you, peppering your face and neck with kisses. You hummed at the affection, tracing over the burn marks on his arms.

“Need to drown out the noises, rather not have him walk in on the two of us.”

Your dick throbbed at the idea of potentially getting caught. Charlie turned, switching on the shower and letting it warm up. In the meantime, you stripped down completely with him following suit, both nude in the chilly bathroom. Your cock slapped against your abdomen as you waited for the water.

“Remind you of anything?”

You laughed as you conjured up an image of the prefect bathroom.

“Perhaps one too many fond memories.”

He reached a hand under the water to test the temperature. With a nod, you were stepping into the rather small shower cubicle. He settled behind you, nipping at the skin of your shoulder as he reached around you to splay a hand over your abdomen. You clamped your mouth shut to avoid the keening noise that would’ve erupted from your throat.

“Careful, love.”

You leaned against the wall, desperate for stability as his hand lowered, gliding over skin until he gripped your cock at the base. You bucked your hips, the sensation too much and not enough. Red hot pleasure nearly blinded you as Charlie fondled your balls, your legs trembling at the sudden assault.

“I’m too tired to shag. Give you a jobby?”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to open your mouth.

He was down on his knees in an instant, lips smacking before he turned you to face him. He leaned you against the wall, legs just barely parted for balance. Charlie guided your cock to his mouth, lips parting as he took you in. You gasped, already far too close from how long you’d waited. He inched you further into his mouth until you were as far as you could go. Your eyes rolled back as he gave an experimental suck, his tongue warm and soft against your sensitive flesh.

Pleasure coiled in your gut like a spring. If he wasn’t careful, you’d blow a load quicker than a virgin.

“Charlie-“ You weren’t even sure what you were going to say, especially as he drew back and began licking at the veins of your dick. Warm water pelted against your side. You choked, reaching a hand out to the wall as he kitten licked all the way up the length of you. He paused for a brief moment, long enough that you looked down.

His hair was halfway in his eyes, sipping wet as he regarded you like something divine. Your knees went weak.

“Beautiful.”

His lips attacked themselves to your balls, already taut from holding back a rapidly impending orgasm, and you used your free hand to cover your mouth.

He grinned, moving to lick one long stripe on the bottom of your cock to the tip. Your hips bucked against his face. He loosened his jaw, careful of his teeth, and allowed you to sink back into his warm hole.

You shook, teetering on the edge of climax, though you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed.

He sucked, bobbing his head up and down as if daring you to cum in his mouth. You moaned loudly against your hand, trembling like a baby fawn as you felt your balls tightened and your cock pulsed. Your hips involuntarily jerked, sending you deeper into his mouth. The tip of your dick hit the back of his throat, and instead of choking he sucked hard.

Just as you nearly fell over the edge, Charlie pulled away. You whined, tears filling your eyes at the denial. Reasonably, you knew he was trying to wear you out. But you’d rather cum right now. Charlie rubbed his cheek against your thigh, far too tender for what he’d just done.

“Don’t be mad, lovely.”

You inhaled sharply as your climax slowly faded away.

He pressed kisses to your inner thighs, alternating between sucking hard or gently licking at the skin, desperate to mark up your skin. He gripped your legs, his fingers digging in as he returned his attention back to your cock.

Your chest heaved as he sucked on your head, running a tongue over your slit. Your hands splayed across the tile of the shower, unsteady in their search for solid ground.

He took you deeper, your abdomen tensing as you rapidly approached your orgasm once more. Your body ached with desire. He bobbed his head, each motion sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. Late nights always heightened your sensitivity.

You bucked against his mouth, moaning as he swirled his tongue around your shaft.

Charlie hummed, and all of a sudden it was too much. You cried out, white flashing across your eyes as you came. Charlie swallowed, throat still massaging you through your orgasm. You whined weakly, panting as your vision returned. Charlie slowly pulled you from his mouth, patting your thigh as you groaned. He wrapped his arms around you. You leaned heavy against him, body shaky.

He kissed you hard, salty cum still on his tongue as he did. You moaned against his mouth, almost desperate to have another go at the taste of you still lingering.

A bang on the bathroom door had you jumping in his arms.

“Are you two done now? I need to take a piss!”

You laughed quietly, resting your head against Charlie’s shoulder.

“We need to get our own place.”

+++

[linos-luna]

Hiii

Could you write a one shot about johnny x yn, he is the tutor of yn, they have going on a lot of sexual tension the last sessions, and johnny was just craving oral sex…so he says “if you do this correctly i’ll go down on you, but if you are wrong, you suck me, deal?” She says yes…you decide which one happens first. If you could add a lot of praise from johnny to yn would be awesome.

Thanks

Hope u have time

This was fun. Sorry it took forever. Im still recovering from my injuries 😅

But I’m back now!

——————————————————————

Lessons ❣️

Johnny x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Oral (both receiving), SMUT, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names

—————————————————— 💚

There was always tension. He’s tutoring you in statistics but how could you concentrate when he was just so… hot. Likewise, Johnny also found himself very attracted to you. He couldn’t help toying with you. Little touches and sly comments during every lesson to drive you nuts. Although you act like it doesn’t bother you, it very much does.

Today was different. Something about your cute skirt and innocent confused expression when not fully understanding a concept. It drove him nuts. He wants you.

Johnny wants relief. He wants you to suck him off while he fucks your throat. He wants to feel you gag around his cock as he pulls on your hair. He wants to cum on your face watch your filthy expressions. He wants to see your eyes crossed and cock drunk. It was getting him hard just thinking about it. Surely, you wouldn’t mind.

“Johnny… Johnny!” You called out, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Oh! Sorry!” He chuckled.

“I finished.” You said with a smile as he stood behind you.

“Yeah? Do you think that you understand now…? Normal distribution charts can be difficult.”

“Maybe…” I said, blushing as he was very close to your neck. “Y-you’ll have to check.”

“Maybe?” He teased while rubbing your sides. “Have you not been paying attention?”

“W-well…” you felt yourself getting heated, just his light touch was getting you worked up. Was this on purpose? You weren’t sure and it was making your head spin.

“Well what?” Johnny asked while slowly running his one hand up your skirt. “Not paying attention…?”

“I-I… I pay attention…” I replied with a a deep breath, feeling the pads of his fingers touching your clothed cunt. You closed your eyes and let out some breathy moans.

“I don’t know about that, babygirl…” he smirked, moving his hand from your waist to your neck. “Looks like you’re thinking about something else…” he chuckled while holding your chin before sliding his fingers in your underwear.

You moaned at the feeling as he felt around your folds then rubbed your clit with his thumb.

“I think that your mind is somewhere else, huh?”

You whimpered at the feeling, finding it difficult to not throw your head back in pleasure. You bucked your hips to feel more friction.

“Do you like that baby?” He teased, whispering in your ear. “You want more right?”

“Mmhm-…” you managed to get out.

“Yes? More?”

“Yes Johnny…” you moaned.

“Just love being touched…” he teased. “Are you really that dirty? I thought you were innocent.”

“I-I-….” It was hard to get any words out. “J-Johnny—…. Please…”

“My sweet girl… let me check that paper for you first.” He smirked, knowing it was driving you nuts. “I’ll have to make some corrections… unless they’re all right?”

“Y-yes Johnny…”

The man smirk as he snaked his free hand from your waist to your breast, disregarding the bra that was in the way.

“How about I make you a deal?” He said while pinching your sensitive nipple. “I’m willing to help you out, babygirl…”

You only nodded, trying to focus on his words.

“I’ll check your work…” he started. "if you do this correctly i'll go down on you, but if you are wrong, you suck me, deal?"

“A-ah! Johnny!” You moaned out loud suddenly, feeling him pinch at your sensitive cunt.

“Got it?”

“Mmm… okay…” you replied in a shaky voice as he looked over your work.

While he checked your work, Johnny kept his hand in your panties, only rubbing your clit slightly as he used his other hand to trace down the paper. You whimpered, lightly bucking your hips against his fingers.

“Well darn…” he said in a teasing voice. “You got it wrong… your margin of error is off…”

“O-oh.”

“You know what that means, hm?” He said with a sly laugh.

“Y-yes, Johnny…” you nodded while getting to your knees. Johnny was surprised you were actually going to do it and quickly pulled down his pants and boxers.

You looked up at him with a giggle, slowly stroking him while staring him straight in the eyes.

“T-Teasing me?” Her groaned while looking back, finding you incredibly cute and innocent.

You smiled and started sucking on the tip, looking up at him with innocent eyes. You would suck the tip and pull back, watching as your spit connected to it.

“F-fuck…” he groaned while holding onto your hair.

You continued to rub his cock with your hands as you started taking more in your mouth. He was big and it was impossible to get him fully in without gagging. You kept going, bobbing your head while moaning, making the man lose his mind.

Drool ran down your chin as he bucked his hips before his grip on your hair tightened.

Johnny couldn’t handle your slow teasing and started thrusting his hips more, holding onto you as he fucked your throat. He threw his head back and let out some breathy moans.

His needy moans only turned you on more and you felt how soaked your underwear really was.

“Open.” He said sternly as you opened your mouth. “I wanna see it…”

You smirked and laid his hard cock on your tongue that stuck out of your mouth. You continue to rub it against your tongue until he released, his white substance dripping from your mouth to your chin, looking absolutely filthy.

“God…” he panted while pulling you up by the hair. “I haven’t even checked the other problem yet… don’t tease me, girl…”

After pulling you up, he pulled his boxers up and went back to checking your work as if nothing happened.

Johnny looked through the last problem, smirking when finished. “Well it seems that you got this one right, babygirl.”

“O-oh…. U-um…” you stuttered as he grabbed your waist, lifting you onto the desk.

“My good girl deserves her reward now, hm?”

You only blushed, feeling even hotter as he slowly lowered your pant and underwear.

Johnny put your legs over his shoulders and licked a stride across your wet cunt with no warning. You moaned a bit loud and quickly slapped your hand over your mouth, making the man chuckle.

“Why are you covering up, baby?” He teased. “I wanna hear everything…” the man groaned against your cunt, practically making you twitch as you roll your eyes back. It was hard to control yourself.

Perhaps you were already hot and aroused from earlier, or you were just horny when seeing him in general.

“F-fuck—… j-Johnny…” your moans were shaky and light as he ate you out with no mercy. The pleasure started becoming too much as his tongue touched your sensitive bud.

You could barely keep your eyes open at the intense pleasure and you found yourself whining.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He teased while he added some more teasing licks.

“Mmm… J-Johnny….” You moaned as your legs shook a bit. “I-I-…”

“You’re what, baby?”

“I-I have… I have to… c-c-…” you couldn’t get the words out through your desperate pants, but Johnny knew what you were trying to say. He smirked and pulled away, making you whine.

“Don’t cum yet, baby.” Johnny said while standing, now undoing his jeans. “I’ll give you something better…”