#office camera installation

[alhsecurity]

Website : https://www.alhsecurity.com/

Address : 22651 Lambert St Suite 101A, Lake Forest, CA 92630

Phone 1 : +1 949-682-1300

Phone 2 : +1 800-416-8955

We take great satisfaction in being more than simply a security installation business here at ALH Security. We also specialize in installing top-tier commercial security cameras, so your business or home may benefit from the latest and greatest in monitoring technology. Our complete office and home camera installation services are backed by a dedication to excellence and state-of-the-art technology, guaranteeing the safety and security of your organization or home.

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Business Mail : info@alhsecurity.com

[ultimateumbreon33]

every time i have a favorite professor, they leave the next year… even with tenure…

[business4u]

Car Key Replacement Services in Silverdale

Our Car Key Replacement Services in Silverdale WA, are designed for convenience and efficiency. If you've lost your car key or need a spare, our technicians provide on-the-spot key cutting and programming. We cater to various vehicles, ensuring you receive a reliable replacement that works seamlessly with your ignition system.

[slater-baby]

Money Shot

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!Reader

Tags - Squirting, voyeurism, toys, mentions of breeding

-

“Simon?” Price calls from the head of the boardroom, arms crossed in deep contemplation, “What do you think? Is it feasible?”

“Feasible? Sure,” He glances at the tactical plan with a minute shake of his head, “Advisable? Not so much. I mean, that structure is...what? Three, four meters? Unless the drop point is on the fuckin' roof, there’s no way the cunts won’t see us coming.”

“Hm,” Price grunts, running a hand through his beard. Around the boardroom, various members of the congregation shift in their seats.

“What about…” Gaz begins, and then, Simon hears it.

BZZ.

“Goddamnit,” he whispers beneath his breath, leaning forward in his chair to pull his phone out of his pocket. Just recently, he’d installed a set of cameras about the house and porch.

‘Just for extra security, love,’ he’d told you. Since you moved in with him—and what with your name now written into his will—his time away on deployment and in the office had become…a liability, to say the least. 

On a good day, Simon didn’t like to leave you by yourself. But for extended periods of time? When he couldn’t so much as pick up the phone to send you a text?

His fried nerves had all but demanded it. The cameras were his only failsafe. His only means of connecting with you, even when you were oblivious to it. In his mind, when he was deployed to some desolate war zone, slumming it in drafty safehouses, sustaining himself on MREs and cigarettes, then just seeing you quiet and content in your usual place on the sofa, flipping through a book or doing a face mask, would be enough to tide him over. 

Though, he’d failed to consider just how goddamn annoying the notifications would soon become.

Hurriedly, he glances at his phone under the table, halfheartedly listening to the meeting.

‘MASTER BEDROOM - MOVEMENT DETECTED,’ his phone so helpfully supplies him.

He scowls.

Movement detected. Yeah, right. Just like the other twenty times it’d told him that in the past hour alone. He digs his index finger into the ringer switch, but just at that moment, another notification comes.

And with it, another…And another…And another….

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED’

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED’

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED,’ it says to him yet again, as if he were an idiot too dull to even read.

“MOVEMENT DETECTED!! INTRUDER ALERT!!!” It seems to screech, “GRAB YOUR GUN, SOLDIER, THE DAY ISN’T OVER YET!!’

Annoyance climbing by the minute, Simon hurriedly flicks through his apps, all too eager to return to the meeting at hand. Within seconds, he’s staring at the grey display of your sparsely lit living room.

If anything, it’s a bit messy, but hardly remarkable. The TV is on, some soapy romance show still rolling in the background. There’s a pillow on the floor. The cat is lounging in a flickering patch of dying sunlight. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

He switches to the kitchen. Nothing but the hum of the old fridge greets him. And in the dining room, it’s a similar story. So, attention wavering with every word that Kyle speaks, he angrily flicks through the porch cameras and straight to the master bedroom. 

And that’s when he hears it.

The smallest, weakest little voice…

“God, Simon…”

At the sound—barely audible over the noise of Price’s lecture—his heart rate spikes.

Physically, he can feel his blood rushing, nerves shredding themselves to pieces as he hurriedly presses the rotate button on screen. Slowly—almost as if to taunt him—the janky camera begins to turn. And with every second longer he has to wait, darker possibilities begin to flood his synapses.

You’d fainted.

You’d fallen.

You’d broken a bone.

Or, perhaps the very worst, he’d find someone else standing over you.The exact reason he’d installed the cameras in the first place.

He waits with bated breath, practically unblinking, until he finds the source of the movement. The blankets atop the bed jostle, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your familiar form swathed in pillows and fluff. Safe, warm, and most importantly, alone.

“Simon…” you say again—voice strained. Almost as if you were…crying?

Again, he glances at Price. The man is distracted, going on about the MTC once more. Surreptitiously, Simon looks back down at his phone, confused.

Were you sick? Laid up in bed with a fever?

No, somehow that didn’t feel like the right description. Last month, when you’d caught the flu, you could hardly stand to sit still. Simon practically had to chain you to the bed just to force you to get some decent rest.

Then, what could it be?

Did you miss him, perhaps?

At the thought, his chest warms. In all his years of service, Simon never had someone to miss him. He had his friends, sure, but they were his home away from home, the family he’d never known he’d find. Off service, however, before he’d met you, home wasn’t warmth. It wasn’t happiness. It wasn’t dear to his heart. Hell, it was little more than a house, with a sofa and television. 

But when you came along….

You, with your shining eyes, witty jokes, and unending support…

He’d never known that the most precious gift a man could receive is someone to come home to at night and to miss him when he leaves in the morning.

Fondly, he looks at his phone screen, hardly listening to the meeting at hand.

Within your cradle of old blankets and sheets, you shift, a whimper escaping your mouth. It echoes in the grainy speakers of his phone, and he hardly even thinks to lower the volume…

That is, until you move again, and the blankets fall down.

One of your arms pushes the blankets down, and suddenly, Simon has an eyeful of your bare tits. Naked, shining with sweat, and nipples raw from being tweaked.

Instantly, his eyes go wide, and he jolts forward to hide his phone in the shadow of the conference table. 

Not crying. Definitely not crying, his brain rambles, watching as the curve of your breasts squish into the mattress as you twist beneath the sheets. The flimsy fabric, threadbare after so many long nights together, wraps around your legs like a vice. 

And that is exactly when he sees it.

Your back arches way from the mattress and your entire body thrums with electricity, hips moving fast and hard, every roll just as desperate and jagged as when you slide into his lap during movie nights, unbuckling his belt before he can even think to open his mouth.

“Fuck!” You nearly scream—and Simon literally flinches, hurriedly whipping his head around to look at the other men.

“Simon?” Price suddenly questions, “You alright? Was that your phone again?”

“Um,” he begins tactfully, clearing his throat, “Yeah—just m’girlfriend walkin’ in front o’ the camera again.”

“Oh,” Price nods, “She doing alright? Haven’t seen ‘er recently.”

“Yeah—she’s…” he huffs, blindly rapidly down at his phone where you writhe against the sheets, fingers thrusting between your thighs.

“She’s doing…great,” he manages, swallowing thickly when you reach a hand up to squeeze your bouncing tits.

“Well, give ‘er my regards next time you talk to to ‘er.”

“‘Course, sir.”

“Now, back to what I was saying about the perimeter…”

With that, Simon holds his breath for a few torturous minutes. However, when the other men continue on as if nothing had ever happened, he surreptitiously leans back in his chair…and looks down at the phone again.

His hearing fades to nothing but a distant buzz, pulse racing in his chest, like his heart might explode at any moment. And even though he’s muted the volume, he swears he can hear your moans ringing in his ears, vibrating in his very bones.

In the black and white video, you throw your head back against the pillows, hips jumping so hard the flimsy sheet falls down to your ankles. And soon enough, he can see every part of you. The softness of your heaving stomach, the sweat against your cheeks, the delicate shine of slick between your sweet folds…

Your entire body tenses, and undoubtedly you cry out again. He already knows what you’re saying, even if it’s all but silent in his hands.

His name.

You’re there, needy and alone, a wet spot between your legs on the sheets, shouting his name like there was any hope of him actually hearing it—as if there was any hope of him finding you,  filling you up, and giving you what you truly need. 

At that thought, pride wells up in his veins, hot and bubbling. And before he knows it, his blood is rushing south at an alarming rate.

“Please,” he can imagine you begging him, “Please….Please, Simon, just a little. Just the tip…”

You’d say it with heat in your cheeks and a pout on your lips, wrapping a shaky hand around his hip so that he couldn’t pull back, so that he couldn’t tease you any longer. You’d whine and whimper, tears gathering in your eyes, as you weakly pulled him forward, just enough to wrap one of those precious hands around his leaking cock.

You’d guide him forward like that—in a way he couldn’t deny—and you’d sit there, batting your eyelashes, sliding your wet cunt over the tip of his condom-covered dick, like that might tempt him just enough to take it off…to fuck you full and hard, until he was leaking out of your fluttering pussy and into your ruined panties.

He bites his lip.

You’d begged him before. On your knees, kissing the head of his cock. On your stomach, pushing your ass up against his hips. With your face buried in the pillows, nearly sobbing for it.

“Just once, Simon. Please—I promise. Just a little bit. Just the tip,” you said every time—as if those words made the act any better.

And, god, Simon wanted it. He wanted it so, so badly. To feel the warmth of your body, the heat of your bare skin against his own…to feel your pulse thumping between your legs as he fucked his cum right into the seat of your very womb.

So far, you hadn’t manage to take him raw just yet. If not because he had the patience of a Saint, then for the fact that your doctor kept rescheduling your birth control appointment.

Yet, looking at you now…

He breathes in low and deep, watching as your legs shake, toes curling.

The sheets fall off the bed.

And with another cry, you pull the dripping dildo from between your legs, curling your thighs together in absolute ecstasy.

Jaded, he looks at the damned toy. A cheap replica of his own cock. You’d given him a mould on Valentine’s Day—mostly as a joke…until next deployment came around, and you all but begged him to do it.

He still remembers how ridiculous it felt, looking down at your satisfied smile while you licked him clean afterwards, merely as a ‘thank you’ for all his hard work.

Beneath the shadow of your dangling calves, he can see the promise of your dripping cunt tucked between your sweet thighs. Desperate, wet, and wanting…

He scowls.

Pills, doctors, and implants be damned. If Simon had it his way, you’d be filled and sated, womb swollen with his seed, evidence of all the love he had yet to give you. It’s a tempting thought—one that nearly drags him into his mind once and for all.

However, a sudden movement on the camera catches his attention.

The toy is still in your hand. Strings of slick drip off of it and onto the flat of your thigh. With your other hand, you spread your abused folds, barely able to pull them back with how wet you’ve become. Impatiently, slide two of your trembling fingers into yourself, head tossing against the pillows.

“Please,” he swears he can hear it, “Please, please, please—”

You thrust into yourself ruthlessly, flecks of slick flying just at the movement. God, the sound of it must be nothing short of obscene. He can only imagine.

Your offhand tightens around the shaft of the dildo, and this time, when you tense up, the movement is so utterly enrapturing he swears he can see drops of saliva spill over your lips. You yank your hand out of yourself. Your stomach flexes. You yell into the bare room.

And that—that is when he sees it.

Suddenly, a rush of slick squirts out of your cunt and onto the bed, hips flinching as you soak through the sheets beneath your ass. Fuck, even through the horrible quality of the film, he swears he can see the walls of your pussy clenching, opening up around every wash of rushing liquid.

It splatters over your thighs, makes your toes curl into the sheets. The fabric sticks to your skin as you continue to ride out the waves of your orgasm, and when you reach a hand down to rub over your swollen clit, little spurts of it squirt over your naked body in time with every press of your fingers.

Before he even knows it—before he can feel ashamed for it—he’s rock hard against the fly of his jeans, cock pulsing beneath the fabric as he watches you lay panting and flushed in a puddle of your own cum. 

“Yes,” he sees your mouth move, cunt still dribbling onto the bedsheets, “God, yes…”

Hands positively shaking, you lift the toy again, clumsily rubbing your ruined pussy over its shining length.

And, god, he’s helpless to imagine himself in its place. Helpless but to imagine himself between your legs, covered down to his knees in your shining spend. Fuck, it’s intoxicating, and it hits him harder than any drug he possibly could have taken.

Listlessly, he looks at your beautiful face through the film grain…

“Simon,” you whisper to yourself, lazily rubbing your cunt against head of that stupid toy, “Simon…”

Easily, he gets lost in it. 

Lost in the sound of your voice saying his name.

Lost in the heat of your expression.

Lost in the need he feels welling up inside of himself…

Lost in the feeling of his hand palming over himself, hidden by the shadows of the looming conference table.

“Simon?”

The sound of his name—and in the voice of a man no less—makes him jump in his seat. On reflex, he closes his phone.

“What?” He answers cluelessly, slapping his hands down on the surface of the table, like he hadn’t just been thrusting into his own hand mere seconds before.

“I asked you what you thought about it,” Price jammers on, oblivious.

“About what?” he says.

At that, Price raises an eyebrow.

“About the risk assessment results. Y’know…what we’ve been talking about for the last five minutes.”

“Risk assessment,” he uselessly repeats, “Yeah. Well, I…”

Price scrunches his face, glancing between his asinine powerpoint and Simon’s covered face.

“Have you been listening?” He huffs, sounding bored.

“Of course,” he clears his throat, hurriedly absorbing the information on screen, “It’s just—I had a question about that. Must’ve left me for a second there…”

“Uh-uh,” Price glances at his wrist watch.

Simon swallows, cock pulsing rapidly in his pants. He scoots his chair in closer to the table.

“If we go in via the rear entrance, then—then I think would should recruit at least one more person for overwatch. Y’know…At the height of the lower wall, I think it might be possible to put a man on the roof. As—as contingency.”

“Sounds fine to me. You think they’d have a decent shot?”

“Well…” he blinks emptily, “At that angle, I think that...”

The clock continues to tick.

Soap yawns at the other side of the table.

Price looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else than here.

And Simon…

God, his mind is still stuttering, heart racing with adrenaline.

Distracted, he’s stuck on where his phone lies innocently atop the table…and what he knows is happening just beneath the cover of its black screen.

[foxaimtechnology]

CCTV Camera Installation in Noida Delhi Gurgaon Ghaziabad Faridabad

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[slightly-knot-insane]

Service Dog

Monstertober 2024 - day 18 [ Hybrid ] by @ozzgin

[ m!dog hybrid x gn!reader ]

Nobody is as loyal and obedient as your boyfriend. He was like that from the start. Once he spotted you, he followed you like a shadow, sometimes from afar, sometimes up close. You thought he was being stalkerish, but your friends explained to you that dog hybrids are simply like that. Soon, you weren't able to live without him. You moved in together quickly after starting your relationship.

He loves being at home with you, but he enjoys the outdoors and his friends as well. Your dog hybrid boyfriend respects your family and friends, he loves whoever you love and dislikes whoever you have beef with.

But he is always so desperate to have you for himself. Alert and cool, sometimes even boorish in front of others, when you're alone, he turns into the most doting, gentle and clingy boyfriend. His horny levels are off the charts and he immediately notices when you get aroused. Well, you don't feel that itch for long. In the shower, in the kitchen, in the bedroom. He would fuck you in every room, on every surface that was able to withstand your weight and force of his thrusts. And you still broke several pieces of furniture before learning your lesson.

You both have jobs and friends, and have to spend some time apart. He never deals with that easily. If you have to leave first, he follows you to your office door or café parking lot. He has a nasty habit of growling at every person he finds mistrustful. Sometimes you have to scold him. He dislikes that, but only because he can't immediately show you what a perfect service top he can be. But at least he can demonstrate his submissive side later.

If he has to go somewhere without you, he whines and holds you tightly. "What if something happens to you while I'm away," he used to complain. That's why he installed cameras all over the apartment, and now regularly watches you over a phone app.

You made sure to give him a show from time to time, walking naked or masturbating in front of those low-res cameras, just to fire him up. Then he would return home and tie you to the bed, ass up, and fuck you into your pillows until your mattress was drenched from your juices.

[ms-demeanor]

Ahahahaha, customer came up to the door and I took in his computer and it was a super simple issue (needed a driver for a camera installed and his laptop couldn't read the driver disc so I used one of our in-house optical drives and installed the driver and the recording app) and I took it in and fixed it and billed half an hour while the new boss is in the front office fully not giving a shit and the old boss is sitting in his office right next to my desk fucking *fuming* that I'm fixing a computer and billing for my time.

Cucking this dipshit with my little ThinkPad and my little USB DVD Drive.

[secureace]

How much does a CCTV camera cost in Noida, Ghaziabad - SecureAce

Understanding the Price of CCTV Cameras CCTV cameras have become indispensable tools for enhancing security in Indian homes, offices, and public spaces. However, individuals often seek clarity on the expenses associated with purchasing and installing CCTV camera systems. This article aims to provide insights into the factors that influence CCTV camera prices and the typical installation charges…

[missjessefantastico]

i had never understood the toxic in toxic person so much

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 HE'S THE SERPENTINE, HE'S MY COLLAR!

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: you're finally back in yokohama after spending three years abroad dealing with mori's foreign business. the last person you want is to see dazai osamu, the wounds of his abrupt betrayal still too fresh for comfort. unfortunately, he decides to take matters into his own hands by showing up at your office in the middle of the night.

(wordcount: 7.1k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, f!receiving oral, gunplay, knife play (ish), spitting, pussy drunk!dazai (as always), light choking, overstim, office sex, semi-public/public sex, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing!)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys. GUYS. i had so much fun writing this, this is finally usurping in paper rings and picture frames as my fav fic that i've written. HAHAHH. i hope you guys like it too!!

You hear the door to your office swing open, and you press your lips together tightly, irritation swimming through your head as your grip tightens on the pen you’re using to fill out your paperwork. It’s already late—you’re tired and your head hurts, but you can’t leave the building until Akutagawa comes to hand you the report for his failed mission so you can pass it up to the boss. And you know that whichever subordinate this is, it’s definitely not Akutagawa because the boy would rather claw his own throat out than walk into your office without knocking. 

Which means it’s some upstart new recruit who has no manners and is likely going to make your night worse. You think being away for so long did some real damage to your reputation—three years ago, the lower ranked mafiosos avoided your floor like the plague, they didn’t barge in like they owned the place, but then again, you also had a certain dark-haired executive (ex-executive now, you remind yourself bitterly) lurking around your floor constantly trying to get your attention, and if people weren’t nervous enough about you, they were definitely terrified of him.

“Five seconds to explain why you came into my office without knocking or I’m putting a bullet through your fucking skull,” you say, voice acerbic, not even bothering to look up, the fingers of your free hand closing around the gun you have holstered at your side. 

“There’s a few too many cameras in the hall for my liking to stand out there and wait for you to open the door.”

The fact that he manages to dodge the bullet shot in his direction is testament to his skill, but you’ve known Dazai Osamu long enough to know that when he dodges to the side, nine times out of ten, he dodges left, so you drop your pen as soon as you pull the trigger and swipe the knife laying haphazardly on your desk, launching it in his direction. You watch as his eyes widen just a bit when it impales the wall right next to his ear, just barely nicking his skin—both a warning and a threat.

“My, my, bella, you’ve gotten faster the past few years,” Dazai grins, unperturbed, smile as reckless and lazy as the day he left four years ago as he plucks the knife from the wall. “I’ve missed you too.”

“What the hell are you doing here, Dazai?” you ask, voice cold and sharp as your finger rests against the trigger of your gun. “How did you get up here?”

“Security’s gotten lax since I’ve been gone, I guess,” Dazai shrugs, but his eyes dance with mirth as he makes his way over to your desk. “You should probably do something about that.”

“Dazai,” you say, keeping your voice low and trying to reign in your temper. There are no cameras in your office, but the hall leading here is littered with them, hidden ones that were recently installed that he wouldn’t know about, if any one of them caught his face and it’s reported to Mori… “You think I won’t drag your ass to Mori myself? What the fuck are you doing?”

You’d have to, or it would be your head on the line for betraying the Port Mafia—you know better than anyone the treatment that traitors get, considering you were the one that dealt with them up until you were sent abroad three years ago to handle Mori’s foreign politics. 

“I don’t know, will you?” Dazai counters, head tilted to the side as he takes a seat on top of your desk next to you, a smile on his face that makes you think he knows something that you don’t.

“Maybe,” you answer, finger twitching on the trigger as you keep your gun pointed in his direction. 

Dazai is completely unbothered, leaning down until his nose is nearly brushing yours, lips tugged up in an unbearable smirk. 

“Then do it,” he challenges, and you glare at him, jaw tight and eyes hard. He reaches out, fingertips brushing your skin, and you feel like you’re on fire beneath his touch. You hate that your body still betrays you to him. “Don’t look at me like that, bella. I won’t even resist, I promise, as long as you promise to be the one to put a bullet through my skull, so your face can be the last thing I see. Ah, that would be a lovely death, wouldn’t it?” 

“You’re a fucking freak, Dazai,” you spit out, but make no move to get up or grab your phone. “What is wrong with you?”

Dazai doesn’t respond, only winking at you. Instead, his gaze shifts to the side and his hand drops from your face to his lap again. You hate even more that you miss his touch immediately. 

“You still have my couch,” Dazai notes to himself quietly, an odd tone to his voice as he stares at the dark couch in the far corner of your office, where he’d bundle himself up under blankets to avoid Chuuya, because Chuuya used to avoid your office like the plague when the three of you were younger.

“It’s my couch,” you say tightly, even though you know no one has touched it since Dazai left, and the ugly orange blanket he liked so much is still draped over the back of it, and it probably still smells like him. Your throat feels swollen, and you steel away your emotions and continue with, “I’ve hardly been back here since you left, anyway. What do you want, Dazai?”

“I heard you were finally back in Yokohama,” he says. “I wanted to see you.”

“Fuck off,” you say roughly. “So you decide to break into the main base of the Port Mafia and come all the way up to my office? You know where my apartment is, you could’ve shown up there. What do you really want?” 

“It’s the truth,” Dazai says easily, and his dark eyes meet yours—both of them, you note, and wonder when he decided to shed the bandages that covered his right eye. “I was at your apartment for a bit, I got impatient and came here instead.”

He’s telling the truth.

Oh, you realize—the clogged feeling in your throat is coming back, you force it away again and lean back in your chair, looking away from him to turn your gaze to the window. It’s well past midnight already, the moon is high in the sky and the stars are glittering above. In the distance, you can see the Ferris Wheel of Cosmo World glowing a bright purple color and a string of flashing red and blue lights as the police chase after someone.

“Why?” you ask finally, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over the two of you. 

“I told you,” Dazai says quietly, and your eyes turn back to him. He looks… happier, you can’t help but note. A sick part of you feels jealous—you’re not sure if you’re jealous because he’s free and you’re still stuck in this place, or if you’re jealous because he’s happier and he’s happier in a life without you. You think it might be the latter. “I miss you.”

“Don’t give me bullshit, Dazai,” you snap, still trying to push away all of the feelings you’ve repressed for so long. “Get out of here before you find yourself killed. I’m not going to turn you in, but I’m not saving you if you get caught.”

“It’s not bullshit,” Dazai tells you, voice sharp in a way that it only ever is when he’s starting to get annoyed. “I-”

A knock at your door cuts Dazai off mid-sentence. Both of you freeze, Dazai looks at you as if waiting to see what you’re going to do, and you can so easily finish this now, let whoever is at your door in and drag Dazai back down to the torture room where he belongs, but instead you find yourself reaching for him. Your hand intertwines with his hair roughly, and you revel a bit in the hiss that escapes his lips as you yank him off the desk and roll your chair backward, kicking the back of his knee so that he crumples to the ground and you can push him beneath your desk. 

You lower your gun to your lap so you can keep it pointed at him and then glance down at him—he looks caught off-guard and disgruntled at being manhandled, but you think it's a bit funny how cramped he looks under there. 

“Not a single word,” you warn before fixing your chair and raising your voice. “Come in.”

Akutagawa wastes no time stepping into your office, nodding his head in respect as he makes his way over to the chair on the opposite side of your desk, a bundle of papers in hand. He doesn’t hand you the pile right away and he looks uncharacteristically nervous, and you raise your eyebrows, wondering what the issue is. 

“I am… unsure how to fill out some of the report,” Akutagawa says, unable to meet your eyes as he stares at the windows behind you. “The operation was… not a failure but not a success. The whole mission was in disarray, I do not know who was doing what at certain points.”

You stare at Akutagawa. “What do you want me to say to that?” you ask him, leaning back in your chair. “It’s your job to know that as the field officer for the mission. If you can’t handle that, Hirotsu will take back the position on the next major operation.”

Akutagawa bristles. “I can handle it,” he says, voice clipped. “This mission was just more chaotic than-”

“Than usual?” you ask idly, watching as he stiffens as your interruption. “This was child’s play, it’s unlike you to make excuses, Akutagawa.’

“I’m not making excuses,” he says immediately, “but…”

Akutagawa continues talking, but your attention is ripped away when you feel Dazai shift beneath the desk. You press your lips together tightly, stiffening as his hands rise to your thighs, spreading them a bit so he can settle between them. You glance down, he’s already peeking up at you, dark eyes glittering in a way that has you on edge. 

Don’t you dare, you warn silently, but Dazai only takes it as further encouragement, pressing his lips to your clothed inner thigh, you can feel the warmth and wetness through your slacks. It takes all of your self-control to not inhale sharply when he starts trailing open-mouthed kisses up your thigh until his mouth is hovering right above your cunt. 

You press the muzzle of your gun against his temple. 

He smiles. 

Your jaw clenches as he licks a long stripe between your legs through your slacks, making sure to press his tongue down hard over where your clit is hidden through your clothes. Akutagawa is still talking, oblivious to what’s happening beneath your desk as he airs his complaints about the mission. You could stop Dazai, place your foot on his shoulder and push him off of you, but you don’t, notably—you don’t want to acknowledge that though. You only vaguely hear Akutagawa’s issues, something about interference from a third party—the SDUP? What the hell were they doing there?— and Kajii blowing up an escape route. 

“Give me the report,” you say, cutting him off mid-sentence, and holding out your hand. You’re grateful that your voice comes out steadier than you feel with Dazai trying to tongue fuck your through your pants. 

As you lean forward to rip the papers from Akutagawa, you tense, feeling something sharp press against your inner thigh. Sitting back in your seat and glancing down, your eyes cut down to Dazai, who still has the knife you’d thrown at him and is using it to cut open your very expensive slacks.

You have half a mind to drive your foot into his face, but you refrain. If only barely.

It’s a miracle that you can keep your breath steady, because as Dazai cuts your pants, he kisses every inch of open skin that’s revealed to him. His lips are warm, wet, familiar—so familiar that your legs are instinctively spreading for him, giving him more room to work.

Your eyes scan the report but the words are just jumbled letters and not making any sense. Every time you try to understand, you feel Dazai’s teeth graze your thigh as he marks up your skin. You tense when you feel him bring the knife much closer to your cunt, to finish cutting off the material—you press the muzzle of your gun harder into the side of his head, warning him to be careful. You glance down only to see a hazy smile on his lips as he winks up at you, as if he’s drunk just off of the idea of what’s about to happen.

He works efficiently as always, freeing your lower body of your slacks and panties as quickly as possible, and he wastes no time burying his face between your legs. Your lashes flutter and the grip you have on your pen tightens dangerously, you think it might snap. Dazai’s tongue slides between your folds, lapping up the slick that had begun to pool—you know that if Akutagawa wasn’t sitting a few feet away, Dazai would be making a snide comment about how he knew you wanted him.

Dazai’s tongue flicks over your clit—you can feel him staring up at you, watching for every little reaction, the way your lip tightens as you bite back moans, the way your eyelids unconsciously start to slide shut, the way your breath is just a bit heavier than it usually is. 

This is so dangerous, you think to yourself desperately. If Akutagawa of all people figures out that Dazai is here-

You nearly choke when Dazai shifts a bit underneath the desk to kneel at a better angle, grateful that Akutagawa seems to be too busy wallowing in his own mistakes to notice your struggle. Your gaze  snaps down again, his eyes have fluttered shut as he buries his face deep into your cunt, nose pressed to your clit as he pushes his tongue into your hole and you can feel the way he lets out a silent, but shaky breath, barely holding back a moan.

You notice his free hand slide from where it was propped on your thigh down to his beige pants, fingers fumbling with the button as he desperately tries to slip his hand beneath his waistband to touch himself. You kick his wrist hard, using your foot to pin it against the side of your desk, watching him wince and withdraw his hand, looking up at you with those big brown eyes you can never say no to. 

God, he’s pathetic, his lashes are wet and his cheeks are flushed, eyes glossed over with pleasure as he looks up at you and you know you’ll let go of his wrist if he looks at you like that any longer, so you turn your gaze back up to Akutagawa, who’s staring at his lap and waiting for you to finish the report.

“Get out,” you tell him, voice sharper than you intended. Akutagawa’s eyes snap up to you, brows furrowed in confusion. “Go, I’ll handle this.”

“But-”

“Your job is to take orders, not question them,” you bite out, watching frustration flash across the boy’s face as he rises to his feet. You’re not usually this harsh with the kid, but you’re not sure how much longer you’re going to last and Akutagawa cannot be in here when you cum. You can feel the heat pooling in your stomach and that familiar hazy feeling clouding your mind. “Out, Akutagawa.”

Akutagawa inhales sharply but nods, turning stiffly on his heel to leave your office. As soon as the door to your office clicks shut, Dazai is pushing the chair backwards until the back of it hits the windows behind you, shifting into a more comfortable position as he resumes fucking you with his tongue in earnest. 

He moans into you, wanton and shameless, any restraint he had because of Akutagawa’s presence is long gone. While he was careful to not make noise before, now the sloppy sound of his tongue dragging in and out of your cunt drowns out any other noise in your office, he sucks and slurps, he’s so disgusting, like he can’t get enough of the taste of you, a man who’s been starved for years.

The knife clatters to the ground as he reaches up with both hands to grab your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders so he can push his tongue even deeper inside of you. Only sheer pride drives you to push away the creeping fog as Dazai’s tongue slides back up between your folds to draw figure eights around your clit.

“I should pull the fucking trigger, pulling this shit when he was in here,” you spit out, head falling back as a breathy noise escapes your parted lips when Dazai sucks gently at your clit. He moans again, as if the idea itself turns him on—it probably does, he’s always talked about wanting to die between your thighs. “You’re a fucking freak, Dazai.” 

He lets out a puff of air, you can’t tell if it's a laugh or another moan, maybe a mixture of both, but he’s too focused on drowning in your cunt to respond. Four years without him and you’ve forgotten just how good Dazai is with his tongue, working your body as easily as he did when the two of you were eighteen and seeking each other out before meetings and between missions for a quick fuck. You hate it—you hate that he’s treating you as if nothing has changed and you hate even more that your body is this responsive to him. 

Betrayal, you think, your own body betrays you for him. Again.

“Fuck,” you gasp the word out when Dazai rolls your clit between his teeth gently, sending a jolt through your body that throws you off just enough for that fog you’ve been fighting off to finally win. You choke over a moan, head pressed back against your desk chair, forearm coming up to press against your forehead as your eyes slide shut. Your free hand finally finds its place in his hair, tightening around his dark locks, he lets out a whimper against you, tongue flicking over your clit. “Like that. Just like that.”

You can hardly keep your head on straight as he traces letters around the sensitive bud, you try to figure out what he’s spelling but you’re too far gone. Your head is light and your chest is heaving. You’re barely able to bite back moans as your thighs tighten around his head, hips rocking against his face. You don’t even know if he can breathe, you don’t think you care, so close to the edge that your entire body is tingling and trembling; you don’t think he cares either from the way he’s moaning into you.

It takes one last suck, one last swirl around your clit, and you’re crying out his name, spots dotting your vision as your grip on his hair tightens, pushing his face impossibly deeper into you as you grind your hips against his face. God, it feels never-ending, a noise too close to a sob nearly escapes your lips as Dazai ardently laps up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste. You can’t remember the last time you’ve cum this hard—with him, probably, you realize bitterly. None of the one-night stands you’ve had over the past few years have ever compared to him.

You’re still reeling even as you force yourself to straighten in your seat, not willing to let him know just how badly you’re thrown off by how intense your orgasm was. Your head is still spinning, vision still blurring, but you lift your leg and press your foot to Dazai’s shoulder, kicking him back and forcing him out from his position between your thighs. 

He grunts, looking thoroughly disgruntled as he falls back on his ass, pouting up at you as he tries to catch his breath. He looks debauched, lips swollen and wet, your cum smeared on the lower half of his face. His cock is straining against his beige pants and his eyes are still glazed over; he’s looking up at you with an expression that’s nothing short of reverent. 

God, he’s gorgeous. 

You hate him. 

You’ve missed him. 

You shift in your seat and Dazai is lifting himself to his knees, immediately leaning closer, a hazy smile on his lips as he angles his face up and pointedly parts his lips, sticking his tongue out. You know what he wants and the heat that had been slowly dissipating returns with a vengeance, breath catching as you look down at him.

“You’re gross,” you tell him, watching the corner of his lips quirk up even as he keeps his tongue out and waiting.

You don’t deny him. You never can. 

You shift forward, rising to your feet and reaching out to grab his chin, angling your face down. Your grip is too tight, it’ll leave bruises behind and you think that’s the least he deserves so you only tighten it a bit more as you lean over him. You don’t give him what he wants, not right away, letting the saliva gather on your tongue as you observe him, the way his pupils are blown wide and his chest is hardly rising and falling, as if he can’t even let himself breathe in anticipation.

Disgusting, you think again, but it’s fond this time, much to your displeasure.

You decide to put him out of his misery, letting the spit dribble from your mouth down to his. His eyes roll back as soon as it hits his tongue, and your hand slides from his chin to curl around his neck—not tight, just firm enough to feel the way his throat bobs as he swallows.

He lets out a shaky breath, eyes fluttering back open as he looks up at you, entirely blissed out. Your hand slides down more, curling around the ugly bolo tie he’s wearing in place of the black one you’re used to. You tug it hard, beckoning him to his feet; he acquiesces, albeit on shaky legs. 

Immediately, his hands find your hips as he pushes you against your desk, spinning you around to face it before his hand presses between your shoulder blades, pushing you down to bend you over it. Your eyes widen at the sudden change in demeanor, something you’ll never be able to get used to no matter how many times you fuck him; it always caught you off guard back then, it still catches you off guard now. He pulls off the remnants of your destroyed slacks and immediately is grinding his bulge against your ass, a low moan spilling from his lips. 

“How many people have you been with?” he suddenly asks, and you can hear him fumbling to unbutton his own pants. There’s an edge to his voice that you don’t like—something caught between jealousy and possessiveness, and you nearly want to scoff at it.

“What the fuck, Dazai?” you spit out, appalled and not expecting the question. “None of your damn business.” 

You turn your head to the side to rest your cheek on the desk, looking back at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes are still a bit hazy but there’s a tight expression on his face, reminiscent of the one that would be directed toward you whenever he stumbled in on you entertaining anyone other than him years ago. 

“Humor me,” he says, voice cold and eerily familiar. If you weren’t looking at him and if you couldn’t see the tan coat and bolo tie, you’d think you were talking to Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia Executive, and not Dazai Osamu, Detective. 

“A lot,” you finally tell him, feeling the way he stiffens behind you. “I don’t keep count. You?” 

You think he has some nerve asking when he’s probably slept around t-

“None.”

“Bullshit,” you snarl immediately. “How many? Don’t fucking lie to me, Dazai.”

“None,” he says again, gaze lifting from your back to meet yours, his eyes are dark—too dark, too still. Maybe he hasn’t changed as much as you assumed, because the way your chest swells with a confusing mixture of fear and arousal is far too familiar. “You’re the only one allowed to touch me.”

His gaze drags back down, with his pants unbuttoned, he lifts his free hand to caress the swell of your ass, a contemplative expression on his face as he stares down at you, his other hand still pinning you down to your desk. If your heart wasn’t thudding in your ears from sheer anticipation, you’d be irate over the fact that you were letting Dazai Osamu fuck you over your own desk in your own office, but you can’t bring yourself to care now.

“They never made you feel like this.” It’s a statement, not a question, and you want to scoff at his arrogance, but you can’t because he’s right. “They don’t know your body like I do.”

This time you do scoff. “You don’t know shit, Dazai. It’s been four years.”

Dazai’s eyes flicker back up to you, the way his lips curve up into a smile is dangerous.

“No?” he questions. 

A challenge. You never back down from one, not from him. 

“No.”

His smile sharpens.

“I know that after you cum for the first time,” he murmurs, rolling his hips forward. You bite back a moan when you feel the tip of his cock slip between your folds. “The second time comes right after.”

True to his words, your jaw falls slack and your entire body seizes as Dazai thrusts into you, splitting you right open on his cock. The moan he lets out is pornographic, and you wish you could see the way his head falls back and his eyes roll into his skull, but your own vision is white and you’re choking over a sob as you feel the familiar stretch of his cock against your walls.

“There you are.” Dazai has the nerve to let out a breathless laugh and another groan as he stills with his hips flush to your ass, feeling your walls spasm around him as you cum just from the feeling of him pushing inside of you. The hand he has placed between your shoulder blades slides up to curl around your throat. With a firm grip, he pulls you up so only your thighs are pressed against the edge of your desk, back flush to his chest as you gasp, reeling from the suddenness of your second orgasm. You can feel him smile as he nudges his nose against the side of your head, lips pressed to your ear. “The third time takes a bit after the second, but I’ll fuck you through it. Maybe a fourth too.”

“Dazai,” you gasp, eyes blown wide as your head falls back against his shoulder. You don’t know what you’re trying to say, maybe hold on, or wait, because you know you’ll embarrass yourself if he doesn’t give you a second to recover.

He hums in response, and the slow rolls of his hips, the drag of his cock against your walls, it has your head in the clouds, body trembling. Your lips part to speak but no words leave them, and right when you think you can finally force the words out, Dazai draws his hips back and snaps them back against yours hard. Your lips part in a silent moan, only the hand around your throat and the one pressed to your lower belly holds you up as Dazai fucks you at a brutal pace. 

His face drops to the crook of your neck, he moans into your skin, teeth scraping hard as he kisses recklessly up and down every available inch. He’s going to leave marks, you realize, and that’s dangerous now that you’re back in Yokohama because you don’t need any of the other executives to get suspicious, but even if you wanted to tell him not to, you don’t think you’d be able to. Whatever little coherency you had left in your thought process does not translate when you try to speak, the only things leaving your lips being shaky moans and gasps of Dazai’s name.

“Made for me,” Dazai groans. His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make the air you breathe in shallow, your head feels light and you’re not sure if it’s because of his grip or if it’s the feeling of his cock bullying so deep into you that you can feel his tip pressing up against your cervix. “Waited so many years for this, feels even better than I remember, pussy’s made for me, isn’t it?”

Dazai babbles into your ear as he fucks you, tongue just as filthy and unbridled as the day he left. Shameless. He’s so shameless. Doesn’t even care that anyone could walk into your office and catch the two of you; doesn’t care that if anyone does, he’ll end up executed. He’s fucking you in a building full of people that want him dead and all he cares about is how your cunt feels wrapped around his cock.

Your breath hitches as Dazai shifts you to bend over just a little more, still keeping your back flush to his chest but fucking you at a new angle—one that nearly sends you spiraling over the edge for a third time. 

“Gonna give me your third now?” he pants. His hand on your lower stomach slips down, lithe fingers dipping between your folds to search for your clit—your back arches against him when he finds it, a sob spilling from your lips, vision swimming with tears. Dazai laughs again, this one is strained, catching over a moan as your walls convulse around him. “Oh, fuck. Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

Unconsciously, his grip on your throat tightens, cutting off even more air. You can hardly breathe, you can hardly think—each thrust of his hips has your head spinning, ripping the little air you can inhale right out of your lungs. The tip of his cock rubs against that spongy spot inside of you every time he snaps his hips against yours, the quick circles he rubs on your clit are electrifying. 

Your cheeks are wet, breath ragged, vision spotty. One last thrust, one last circle, and you’re wrecked, sobbing out his name as your legs give out, only held up by the way he has your thighs pinned to your desk and his hand on your neck. You cum all over his cock so hard that you think you black out for a second, your mind fuzzy and pins and needles pricking all over your body.

Dazai doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your third orgasm, relishing in the way your body twitches and trembles, too sensitive for his touch. 

“Your fourth will come quick,” he gasps. His pace is erratic now, chasing his own release. Your ears are ringing, heartbeat thudding in your ears, the wet, sloppy sound of his cock driving in and out of you resounding through your office. “I don’t think I’ll last for five. Shit, shit, I’m close.”

You have to force yourself to move. You want to see him when he finishes. Your hand wraps around his wrist, nails digging into his skin to try to get his attention. It takes all of your will power to push the two words from your lips: “Flip me.”

He does. Without any sort of hesitation, his hand drops from your throat to your waist. His cock slips out of you for a split second and your cunt aches at the loss, but Dazai is immediately pushing himself back into you as he hoists you up by the thighs, sitting you down on your desk and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Even through your blurry vision, Dazai is a fucking sight. His dark hair is matted to his forehead, pink lips swollen and wet, cheeks flushed. His eyes glazed over and half rolled back as he chases his high. God, he’s stunning. You’ve missed him. You’ve missed him.

You’re not thinking as you lift your hand to cup his cheek, sliding around to the back of his head to pull his face down to yours, moving on pure instinct. You drag him down to press your lips against his and Dazai is gone. The moment your lips touch his, he’s moaning into your mouth, hips stuttering against you as he spills his cum deep inside of you, and he’s right, because the moment you feel his cum filling you up, warm and thick, so much of it that you can feel it dribbling around his cock, the stickiness smearing against your thighs and ruining your desk, you’re pushed over the edge for the fourth time.

This one is weaker than the rest, not a single noise escapes you but your jaw goes slack and Dazai whimpers into your mouth when he feels your walls tightening around him again. But he takes advantage of your pliancy, pushing you back gently so that your back is flush to your desk. He follows you down, keeping his chest pressed to yours as he maps out your mouth with his tongue. He rolls his hips against yours, slow and deep, fucking his cum deeper into you as the two of you slowly come down from your highs. He slants his lips against yours to deepen the kiss, hand coming up to cup your cheek, his other sliding up and down one of your thighs. 

It’s too intimate. You tell yourself that you only let it happen because you’re reeling from overstimulation but you know it's a lie.

You don’t even know how long you stay in that position with him. It could only be a few seconds, a few minutes, it could’ve been an hour for all you know, laying on your desk with him pressed on top of you, kissing you so passionately that it makes your head spin as much as the orgasms did. 

Finally, you press your hand against his shoulder, signaling for him to get off of you. He does, albeit with a reluctant sigh. You stare up at the ceiling as Dazai shakily rebuttons his pants, making his way over to the closet where you still keep your spare clothes from when you have to stay over at the office to work. 

What did you do?

You’re hyper aware of how swollen your lips are, of the marks littering your neck, of the cum dribbling out of your cunt, staining your desk. 

If anyone finds out about this-

You don’t get to finish the thought, because Dazai comes back over to you. Neither of you speak as he takes a tissue to clean up his cum from your thighs and as it dribbles out of you, nor do you speak when he shifts you into a sitting position, helping you pull on a new pair of panties and a new pair of slacks.

He stands in front of you, dozens of indecipherable emotions rocketing across his face as his dark eyes search your expression for something. You don’t know what, and you don’t even want to look at him but you can’t draw your gaze away from him.

After what feels like forever, he finally speaks.

“I missed you,” he says, voice hoarse as he lifts a hand to cup your cheek. 

You turn away from his touch, ignoring the hurt that flashes through his eyes. 

“Why don’t you believe me? You think four years has changed how I feel about you? I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s been four years,” you say, and you hate that your voice wavers a bit. You blame it on still being hazy after your orgasm but you know it’s a weak excuse. You hate that he still has this effect on you after all these years. You hate that you always give into him, and you hate that you know you’ll never get enough of him. You want to hate him, but you can’t. “Knowing how to fuck me isn’t the same as knowing me as a person. I barely know you anymore. You barely know me. And it’s not like you were open with how you felt four years ago. So, forgive me if it’s a bit hard to believe, Dazai.”

“You wear the same perfume. You still shoot with your non-dominant hand for some god forsaken reason. Your lips still twitch whenever you get annoyed even though you do your best to stop it. You-”

“Stop.”

“You still talk to me like you hate me even though your eyes are all soft and you’re leaning in toward me.” Dazai doesn’t stop, and to your horror, he’s right—you had begun to lean in to him instinctively as he spoke. You try to shift away from him, but he follows, fingers grazing your cheek, chest brushing yours. You don’t pull away this time. “I still wear the same cologne you bought me for Christmas because it reminds me of you—I spent two months trying to figure out where you bought it when it first ran out. I don’t carry a gun around as often, but when I do, I still try to do that stupid flipping trick you tried to teach me when we were seventeen—I still can’t do it, almost shot myself in the knee last time I tried.”

The laugh he lets out at the last sentence is hollow. He hesitates, as if he wants to continue but isn’t sure if he should. You can feel his blunt nails scraping gently against your skin, his palm warm against your cheek. You want to pull away but you’ve missed him, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, and you find yourself sinking into his touch. You’ve always questioned why Mori sent you away for so long, angry because you figured he thought you were weak when it comes to Dazai and he didn’t want to risk anything. 

Only a few days back in Yokohama, and you’re already proving him right.

“I’m not the same person,” you tell him, something desperate edges at your tone. Desperate to convince him, or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I still love you,” he rasps, voice quiet as if he’s scared to admit it even to himself, and your heart is suddenly lodged in your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes, the words he refused to tell you back when you were teens ringing through your head over and over again. “I’ve always loved you. Thought about you every day. I missed you so much.”

“I should hate you,” you say, swallowing thickly, unshed tears blurring your vision. “You didn’t even say goodbye. When Mori said you defected in the middle of a mission, I laughed in his face. Not because I didn’t think you’d never betray the Port Mafia, but because I didn’t think you’d ever leave me without saying anything.”

“If I said goodbye to you, I never would have left,” Dazai tells you quietly, the admission echoing in your years. “And I had to leave. I had to.”

“I should hate you,” you repeat, voice a bit weaker now, and you feel pathetic for falling apart like this in front of him. But it’s Dazai, he’s always had this effect over you. You suppose some things haven’t changed, because that certainly hasn’t. 

“I know,” he murmurs. 

You inhale deeply, shaking your head as you push yourself off your desk and straighten out your clothes, trying to get your head back on straight. You should’ve known better than to think you’d be able to come back to Yokohama and pretend that Dazai Osamu didn’t exist, for better or for worse, the two of you would always find your way back to each other. Mori was right to send you away, although you suppose the man is rarely wrong anyway.

Dazai doesn’t say anything, watching you with an unreadable expression as you search through the ruined piles of paper on your desk for the report that Akutagawa had handed you. Your eye twitches when you realize that it’s stained, realizing that you’re going to have to rewrite the whole thing because you can’t submit a cum-stained report to Mori.

Dazai snorts behind you, as if realizing your predicament. The look you give him is lethal, he silences himself quickly. 

“Don’t get yourself killed on the way out,” you tell him, grabbing your black jacket off your chair and swinging it over your shoulders as you look back at him. “If you make it out of here alive, I’ll see you at my apartment later. Then we can talk.”

His face twists. “What? Wait, don’t leave me here,” he panics, nearly tripping over his feet and your desk chair to follow after you. “Help me sneak out.”

“You got in here yourself,” you say dismissively. “Get out yourself.”

The noise he lets out is pathetic. “You do hate me,” he accuses. 

“No, I could never,” you admit quietly. His expression softens a bit, but you give him a sharp smile. “But I’m definitely not going to make things easy for you. Akutagawa is still out here prowling around. So is Chuuya, actually. Said he’d be at the office all night today. Good luck, you’re gonna need it.”

[san8ny]

‘HITTIN MY PHONE IS SO RIGHT !

?: You can’t seem to put an end to a salacious affair between you and your boss. However, lately with the new cameras being installed around units, it’s getting increasingly risky for you two. What’ll it be, your job or Abby’s? / A.A x Fem!Reader

!: hellurrrr.. xD haven’t proof-read this ngl bc my eyes hurt/ ALSO AN OLD DRAFT I HATE..im srry :P

“Fuckin’ hell..she’s just clamping onto me..” Abby coos from where her head is thrown back on the office chair; you, on her lap, rocking your hips deliciously into her, each snap feeling like a tidal wave of pleasure surging through Abby’s veins. You’d never in a hundred years think this would be a common event that took place between you and your employer after hours, a dirty secret that was buried deep within Abby’s Law-Firm.

“S-shitttt, don’t speak like that..” You whine, digits burying themself into Abby’s Golden locks when it seems like her pace speeds up; “Can’t when this messy cunt ‘s talking to me..” Abby takes a sharp inhale of air when you rip open the first two buttons of her blazer, scattering across the room.

“Not fair..’wanna take ‘em off..” You whine, wrapping your arms tighter around your lovers neck— soft tits pressed up into Abby’s face where she sneakily kisses around your areola, taking a nipple into her warm mouth, earning a weak huff from you.

“Shh..gotta be quiet, doll..can’t risk having you heard.” She whispers against your skin, pulling you down to press a messy kiss against your lips, “that I have ‘fuckin favorites…”; You shriek when she manages to slam you even harder on the XL strap, the one that’s tied oh-so-perfectly around her hips.

The buzzing on her desk brings her away from your lips and her attention instead, is on the lit-up phone, grabbing it with ease as she maintains a rhythm with how she bounces you, caller ID reading OWEN.

“Not this timing..” She groans, shushing your mewls once again when she takes your head and slightly angles it into her neck as an attempt to muffle your noises while she takes the call; “Get to the point.”

While she talks, you sink your teeth into her nape unexpectedly, illiciting a dirty, guttural moan from Abby to the point she almost lets the phone slip out of her grasp, “Uh..you okay?” Owen asks, confused at what was happening on the other end of the phone as he peels an orange; Abby hums at this, poorly trying to reaffirm Owen with eyes clenched closed as you leave harsh hickeys on her neck, ones she’d have to indefinitely cover up all week with series of collered pantsuits.

“P-please, ‘Abs..”You pant, saliva stretching from your quivering lips to her bruised neck. Abby pathetically caves in, murmuring mantras of ‘hear you, baby’ into the humid office air, head spinning and the call long forgotten as she throws it across the desk; her obsession with you ran deep, from the very moment you stepped into the office scene, all pencil skirts and painted lips— you were something she needed around here, and maybe the only thing that kept her hauled up in this shit-hole while all her other colleagues ran themselves into bankruptcy and alcoholism.

“I’ll give it to my sweet girl, ‘always do..ah—? S-she just needs to be ‘fuckin patient..” Abby’s breath hitching when you scrape your nailbeds across her, now, unclothed back. “You’re so—o ‘fuckin nasty..begging to fuck when they’ve installed surveillance every square inch of the damn place—love my pretty g-girl..”

“G-gna cum, pleaseee.. if you keep ‘talkin to me like t—this!” You stutter out with furrowed brows, annoyance and arousal a mixture when she picks you up and slams you directly against the desk now, a stark contrast to where you two were meekly teasing eachother earlier on her swivel chair but shit, does this angle make you take her even deeper..

After some time of her relentlessly pounding into you, and tears falling from your glossy eyes, down your full cheeks— you finally crack. This doesn’t end it, no, because after 2 orgasms ripped out of you— Abby leans down and kisses your cheek softly, her lips lingering condescendingly, “one more before we go, hm? Then we’ll clock out and i’ll take us home, baby”, all while two fingers work figure 8’s on your puffy clit, soothing you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Home?

You look at her up from heavy lidded eyes, sleep wanting to consume you completely but you oblige, mewling when Abby lowers herself to her knees and begins kitten-licking at your sensitive pussy; maybe you were obsessed with the blonde as much as she was with you, even if it could cost you both your jobs potentially one day.

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[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Part 7

MDNI // 18+ content

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final) | extra: Police Reports | extra: dinner date with Minho

full master list for additional installments

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: you're arrested and held for 24 hours by 8 police officers at the local police station / reader has her fantasy play out.

Word Count: 6.7k approx (part 6)

Chapter Summary: It's y/n's final encounter with all 8 members.

A/n: Hi Hi!!! So… here is the final installment of the series. As I anticipated, it was exhausting to write for so many participants, and my vocabulary started to dry up towards the end. But I am really pleased with how it played out. It was difficult to give everyone equal attention, so I hope I haven’t left anyone out too much (or at all! Fuck! Imagine forgetting to include a member entirely?) 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the following 6k + words of smut.

CW under the cut

CW: group sex, 8 guys x 1 fem, oral sex (m and f rec), spanking, fake knife play, masturbation, squirting, multiple orgasms, double pen (2 holes), anal sex, cum eating, name calling (baby girl, good girl, whore, etc), creampies, angst. Please let me know if I have forgotten anything significant and I will add to the CW.

>>>>>

You’re given yet another oversized button down shirt to wear, and instructed to wait in the Chief’s office to rest and wait for something to eat.

You really have lost track of time. It’s definitely daylight outside, but whether it’s late morning or early afternoon, you can't tell.

The creak of the door interrupts your thoughts, and you turn to find Felix returning with a tray of sandwiches and a big jug of water.

“Hungry?” He says cheerfully, like he hadn’t just fucked your brains out, and sets the tray down on the coffee table, like he hadn’t just double penetrated you on it with Chief Chan less than an hour ago.

You take a sandwich, scoffing it down quickly, and reach for a second piece. You’re absolutely famished.

Felix watches you and chuckles, then fetches his camera from the drawer and returns to sit beside you.

“Want to see what I captured?” He asks eagerly.

You stop chewing and look at him uncertainly.

“They’re really beautiful.” He adds.

You hesitate, then slowly nod. “Sure.”

“Great. So many pretty bruises and marks.” he coos. “Look.” He flicks to the cut on your neck. A small, red nick from Jeongin. There’s a flicker of an ache between your legs.

“Then,” His breath shakes as he takes in the next photo. It’s of your sore, red ass, and your puffy, swollen pussy lips. You whimper ever so slightly at the image. You look so used, so utterly ruined.

Then Felix shows you your bruised nipple.

You swallow your mouth full of food and bite your lower lip. Fuck, these photos stir up the desire, the need, to be fucked hard, rough, and like your’re nothing but a toy.

“You like that, huh?” Felix notices the effect the photographs are having on you. “You’ll get a copy of these, don’t worry.”

“I will?” You squeak and imagine future you laying on your bed masturbating with photos in hand.

“Of course.” He laughs kindly, and pops the camera down on the table and pours you a big glass of water. “Here. Drink this. You’ve got a big session shortly.”

“Do you do many gang bangs?” You ask casually, taking the glass and gulping down half of it in one go.

“Not often, no.” He admits, rubbing his hands nervously.

“Oh!” You blush. God, you really are one of a kind.

“I mean, it has happened, you’re not the only one or anything, don’t worry.” He scrunches his nose up in thought. “Usually, the client wants either several one on one interactions, or maybe up to three of our guys.”

You suck in your lower lip worriedly.

“I promise we’re experienced in a gang bang, or… running a train…whatever you wanna call it. It’s not going to be a clumsy, fumbling mess.” He reassures you.

With that you burst out laughing, relaxing a little. “A clumsy, fumbling mess?”

“Hey!” He laughs too. “You’re going to lose count of how many times we make you come.”

“I don’t doubt you for a second, Officer.” You wink.

>>>>>

Felix stays with you until it’s time to go, and you’re told that the final session will take place in the open office area where the officer's desks are located.

“They’ve added a few bits and pieces to make things more comfortable.” Felix mentions as you both walk down the hall.

You’re taken to the open office area where all the officer’s desks are, but there is also now a tatty couch at the end of the room and a random mattress in the middle of the floor.

Everyone’s waiting for you. The officers are all sitting at their desks, and Detective Minho and Chief Chan sit on the couch.

Most look hungry, a couple angry, especially Minho, and Han looks like he’s trying to contain his excitement. You don’t dare look at Jeongin.

Felix leaves your side to take his seat, leaving you standing in front of an unoccupied desk. You suddenly feel shy, your eyes fixed to the mattress on the floor.

“Strip for us, babygirl.” The Chief instructs.

You suck in an anxious breath as you bring your fingertips to the top button of the shirt, and you bravely look up at each of the eight men. Their eyes are glued on you, and you realize this is going to be your last encounter with them. 

Determined to not let nerves get in the way, you decide you want to make the most of this, and put on a bit of a show for them. They pleased you so well, why not let them know just how much?

Your gaze turns seductive as you perch yourself on the edge of the desk and slowly unbutton the shirt, revealing the skin between your breasts, then dropping the garment off your shoulders and onto the desk.

Gasps of “fucks!” echo around the room and you smile inwardly.

“Play with yourself. Spread your legs.” Chan says with a strained voice.

Resting your left leg on the swivel chair in front of  you, you open your thighs for the men.

“Wider.” The Chief barks.

You suck in your lower lip, plant your other foot on the desk and spread yourself wide open, displaying your cunt for the whole room to see.

“Play with yourself.” Another instruction.

You begin by squeezing a breast and rocking your hips. You pinch your nipple, then pop your finger in your mouth. Swirling your tongue around your digit to get it nice and wet, then bring it back to your nipple, tweaking it between your thumb and forefinger. 

Han palms his crotch, and Changbin’s lips are slightly parted as he concentrates on what you’re doing to yourself. You watch him gulp as you coat your fingers with saliva again and bring them between your legs. You sigh as you drag your fingers through your folds, and rub circles on your clit.

Your cheeks flush as your body is filled with heat, and your cunt aches for more. Spreading your fingers in a V shape, you spread your lips to expose your entrance. It’s leaking already, so you use it to coat your outer lips and clit. 

A whimper leaves your lips when you slip a finger inside yourself. Everyone watches in awe as you slip in a second, pushing all the way in so you can use the palm of your hand to grind against your clit.

You curl your fingers, digging into that spongy spot, and you become wetter than ever. The sounds of your soaking pussy that fill the room can only be described as squelching. Your eyes flutter closed as you surrender to the pleasure, your core tightening more with every scrape against your g-spot. You’re not certain what each of the men are doing, but you’re sure you saw a few with their cocks out, stroking them, preparing for what they’re going to do to you.

Your breath quickens with every moment that passes, until you’re panting for release, your chest heaving and flushed. The tension in your core is about to snap.

You rock your hips, grinding on your hand, chasing your climax, and opening your legs as wide as they can possibly go, so that every single one of the men can see your cunt sucking and gripping on your fingers.

You’re so close you cry out desperately with the need for release. Your eyes squeeze tightly closed, your thighs tremble then shake uncontrollably. It’s happening. You’re coming. Your walls grip your fingers, squeezing tight like a vice, then start pulsing around them. You keep finger fucking yourself frantically, as clear liquid spurts out of you, splashing your hand and trickling on the floor.

You throw your head back, panting, trying to catch your breath, while continuing to fuck yourself more gently, easing yourself back to earth. You slip your fingers out and rub a few lazy circles around your lips and clit as your heart rate comes down.

Eventually, you open your eyes to a still and silent room. They are all staring at you.

Changbin is the first to do anything. He stands and walks over to you, Felix on his heels. They come up to either side of you. “That was the sexiest thing we’ve ever seen.” Whispers Changbin in your ear. “Now we need to play with you. You got us all so hard.”

He plants a hot wet kiss on your neck while his hand finds your breast and squeezes it. Felix turns your head towards him. “Perfectly pretty.” he sighs and takes you in a feral tongue kiss. His hand slides down the front of your body to your pussy and slides two fingers inside your heat, gently pumping them in and out of you.

When you break the kiss, Changbin gently turns your chin so he can kiss you, his hand immediately finding your breast again. You moan into his mouth as they play with your body, making you melt. You close your eyes, focusing on how sensual they are being, when you feel two more hands on your inner thighs, pushing them wide. A wet mouth presses up against your core and an eager tongue explores your folds.

You look down and gasp, as the person you least expected is eating you out like a starved man. Seungmin. You moan as you watch him lap at your pussy, wrapping his mouth around your clit and humming. Then taking his tongue to your entrance and pushing it inside you.

“Oh God… Fuck!” you choke when he licks a long stripe back up to your clit.

Felix and Changbin’s hands and mouths are still everywhere, all over your body. Felix is latched onto a nipple and Changbin is sucking love bites along your collarbone. 

You rock and squirm in their hold, as Seungmin threatens to rip an orgasm from you. But they hold you firm, forcing you to take everything.

You’re getting close, and Seungmin knows it, so he stops entirely and stands up. You furrow your brow and whine in protest, but he smirks at how pathetic you’re being. 

“I’m first.” He announces to everyone. 

“Yah! I haven’t had her in ages. It’s my turn.” Changbin protests, but Seungmin has already tugged you away and is bending you over a different desk. He slaps you, hard, on your sore ass, making you cry out, then with one hand wrapped around your hair for leverage, he sinks into you.

He doesn’t give you any time to adjust before he’s slamming himself into you at a barbaric pace.

“I think everyone is treating you too nice, Princess. Someone needs to remind you just what you signed up for.” He digs his fingers into your hips, while with the other hand yanks you by your hair so your back is curved. The angle causes his cock to bash into your cervix cruelly, and you sob. But he doesn’t stop. Harder. Harder, he fucks into you, teaching you a lesson. Reminding you not to get too comfortable here.

“Time to choke on a cock while I rail you.” He snarls as Han comes to sit on the desk. 

“Baby. I need your pretty mouth around me.” Han says in a deep, almost bedroom, voice. 

Seungmin doesn’t even try to cooperate or slow down, he just digs both hands into your hips, and fucks you like he’s an animal, while you wrap a hand around Han’s cock and try to sink your mouth over it. The man’s cock is beautiful, and delicious, and you moan around it as you try to take all of him in. 

You’re not able to go slow, or take your time, as with every savage thrust from Seungmin forces you down Han’s cock in an uncontrolled way.

But Han seems to like it like that. Every time you gag, he groans and pushes his hips up a little. “That’s it baby, a little more. A little more and I’ll be completely inside you.”

You prepare yourself to take the rest, but Seungmin grabs the back of your head and forces you down the rest of the way. The choking, gurgling sound is obscene. The two men love it. So much so, that Han blows his load straight down your throat, and Seungmin coats your inner walls, causing you to come unexpectedly.

Shaking, you lift off Han’s cock, and he leans down to kiss you sloppily. “Thank you.” he whispers.

There’s no thank you from Seungmin when he pulls out. Just him spreading your ass cheeks and calling you a slut when his cum oozes out and dribbles down the back of your thigh.

As your breath begins to return to normal your eyes catch Jeongin. He’s now sitting leaning back on the couch, faux knife in hand and an unhinged look in his eye. He licks the blade and arches his eyebrow, waiting for you.

“You think I’m mean?” Whispers Seungmin in your ear. “You need to go fuck him now.” He nods his head towards Jeongin and slaps you on the ass again.

As you walk towards the crazed officer, cum still dripping out of you, you glance around the room. Everyone is naked now, except for Jeongin and Minho. Your gaze lingers on the Detective, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. You can’t read his expression either, but you don’t have time to dwell on that. Jeongin has he dick out ready.

“How do you want me, Officer?” You say coyly, standing in front of him.

“Turn around. Straddle me. I want everyone to see me buried inside you.”

You do as he says, placing a foot on either side of him and slowly impaling yourself on his length. The fake knife immediately comes to your throat and you feel a thrill course through your body.

“Lean back and fuck me.” He whispers. You rest your back on his chest and slowly grind on his cock, as Seungmin’s cum and your juices gather at the base. This position drags him against your insides deliciously, and the way he grinds back makes you bite your lip and moan. 

He reaches around and drags the tip of the blade over your tits then down your stomach. You pretend the blade is real, imagining that with each heave of your body, the blade could cut you. You shudder at the thought and your cunt squeezes. Jeongin laughs, noticing how much you enjoy knife play. He drags the blade down between your legs and drags it from where he’s buried inside you up over your clit. 

You whimper. He does it again. Your eyes roll back into your head. He’s going to make you come all over his knife if he keeps doing this. Again he drags it over your clit, then brings the blade to your mouth. 

“Lick it.” He growls low. You do, moaning at the taste of yourself. 

Hyunjin kneels between yours and Jeongin’s legs, biting and licking his bottom lip, before leaning in and lapping at your clit.

You moan loudly at the softness of his lips against your swollen center, and he smiles against you. Then he’s messy, sucking, nipping, licking your pussy, even giving the base of Jeongin’s cock some attention when you lift off enough.

You’re covered in saliva, and sweat drips from Hyunjin’s forehead and hair onto your body. 

Then the knife slides back down, between your folds, and over your clit. All while Hyunjin laps you up. His tongue presses on the blade, pushing it firm against your clit, the pressure making you almost explode. Then he pulls away and you whine in protest. But he just merely looks up at you with an expression that makes your skin blush. 

He brings his attention back to your pussy, spreading your lips apart with his fingers. He admires your pretty hole being stretched and stuffed with cock, and your swollen clit, that’s being teased by Jeongin’s knife.

Jeongin takes this opportunity to grind the side of the knife against your clit frenziedly while he fucks up into you wildly. 

You’re being bounced and thrown around by the cock inside you, and you squirt again when you come, splashing some in Hyunjin’s face.

Cheers resound around the room, and you’re reminded that they are watching the whole thing eagerly.

More cum oozes from your hole when you slide off of Jeongin, and you collapse on the couch beside him, too wobbly and too weak to stand.

You’re out of it. Exhausted and delirious, and only two of them have fucked you so far.

Jeongin brings a bottle of water to your mouth and you drink greedily from it, then rest your head and close your eyes. You feel your body being moved about are repositioned on the couch so you’re lying lengthways with your head resting on the chair arm.

Your eyes flutter open to find Jeongin gone and Hyunjin kneeling on the couch between your legs. He throws one of your legs over the back of the couch, and pushes the other one wide. He wastes no time thrusting into you, all the way. He holds your tits while he fucks you, massaging them in circles as they jiggle in his hands. Then he’s kissing your neck tenderly.

“I need to cum in you so bad. I needed to know if your pussy is as delicious as your ass. It is, by the way.” He chuckles and so do you. “Can I fuck you hard?” he asks. 

You nod, yes. He smirks, moving his arm to wrap underneath you and hold you up against him. Then he’s railing into you. Hard, deliberate thrusts that hit your already bruised cervix. He grunts each time he bottoms out, and the longer he goes, the sweatier he gets. It pours off of him onto your body, creating that same slipperiness as when he and Han fucked you the day before.

His thrusts turn frantic as he nears his orgasm. “Play with yourself. Wanna feel you flutter around me.” he pants. 

You slip a hand down between your bodies, and rub your overstimulated clit until you’re coming hard on his cock. 

“Yes, that’s it…fuck!” he growls, pulling out suddenly and plastering your sweat covered body in cum. Unexpectedly, he leans down and licks up a puddle of cum and pushes it into your mouth in a slow tongue kiss. You moan and your pussy responds with aftershocks.

“Let’s get her up against the wall. She can’t stand on her own. Suengimin and I will hold her for you guys.” Chan advises the group of the plan.

You're lifted off the couch by strong hands, and pinned to the wall. “Wrap your arms around our shoulders.” Chan says to you softly. “Yes, like that. We’ll hold your legs, you don’t have to do anything. Just let them use you.”

You're hoisted up the wall, legs spread, cunt open and ready for the taking.

“Alright, who’s first, boys.” Suengmin calls to the others.

Han is there in a heartbeat. “Hello, baby!” He smiles at you, then he kisses you with those sinful lips of his. He pulls a moan from you as he rubs his cock through your wet lips, and he looks down to watch himself sink inside you. “You’re tighter than yesterday. You must be so swollen, baby.” He pulls out almost the entire way, then thrusts deep. You whimper. 

“Sorry, baby. It might hurt a bit, but…ngh…” He slams in as hard as he can, Seungmin and Chan having to steady you from being fucked up the wall. “But, you see…” Another slam into your cunt. “You're pussy loves it rough. I know it does. I can feel it choking me.” He leans his head on your shoulder, and cups his hands under your ass, and grinds into you. Your clit rubs against him and you clench harder around him.

“Wish I could fuck you everyday.” He whispers against your ear so only you can hear.

His sweet words, coupled with his now desperate thrusts, has your head lolling back against the wall and you gently come around him. He follows almost immediately, adding his thick cum to the mix inside you.

Han pulls out with Felix poised to take his place. He moves into position quickly, gathering as much cum that’s seeping out of your hole onto the head of his dick and then squeezing inside you. 

He foregos all his usual pleasantries to simply say “I need to cum so bad. Just let me fuck you quick.” 

He fucks you with short, sharp, brutal thrusts, chasing his own orgasm and nothing else. “I’m not not interested in making you come, you’ve had plenty of those. I just need to…grrr.” He fucks you hard and fast, no more words, just pretty moans. You let him use you, watching his beautiful face in awe as it scrunches up with need, and then, with his mouth hung open, he’s cumming deep inside you. He trembles as he cums. It’s so pretty.

“Rightio, Minho. Your turn.”

Your eyes snap up when you hear his name. Minho. Your heart stops beating as he steps up to you, and you feel something flutter in your tummy. You swallow, your throat is so dry.

He moves in closer so the side of his cheek rests on yours. His hand finds your hip, gripping it gently, then with the other, he guides his cock to your entrance.

You hold your breath in anticipation. He hesitates briefly, and that kick starts your heart again. Now it’s pounding so hard there’s no way he can’t hear it.

With his body pressed right up against yours, he pushes into you. Slowly. So slowly, you whimper. You need his cock so bad that your cunt actually aches. A little squirming from you doesn’t spur him on. He just squeezes inch by torturous inch into you.

He bottoms out and you both sigh in relief. He stills. A long moment passes, and then he’s rolling his hips up into you. So deep, so deliciously deep. The way he moves his hips has his cock hitting you in different angles that the others can’t reach.

You take your hands from around Chan and Seungmin’s shoulders, opting to wrap them around MInho’s neck instead. He drops his head to kiss your neck softly. He moans with each thrust now, picking up the intensity. He’s not rough, he doesn’t need to be. Not with the way you’re coming undone on his cock like you are.

You’re partially brought out of your dazed state when you feel someone's fingers at your other hole. “Gotta start prepping you for the next phase.” Suengmin states.

While Minho continues to gently fuck your brains out, the others work you up to two fingers in your ass. You come when one finger is inside, making Minho growl and tell you you’re greedy, and now that two fingers are fucking you back there, you’re about to come again.

“I think our little whore’s ready to take more cock.” Suengmin ushers some of the others over. They gather around as Minho holds onto you and pulls you away from the wall. Your legs wrap around his waist, and his cock is still inside you.

He turns you around, presenting your ass for the others. “Remember you can use your safe word, okay?” he whispers against your ear.

You nod. “I know. Thank you for making me feel safe.”

He looks at you longingly, then his gaze drops to your lips. You want to smash your lips onto his, but you daren’t. He has his boundaries and you must respect those, just like he’s respected you.

So you just lean on his shoulder and let him hold you while you get your ass fucked.

Changbin is first to come up to you. “Finally, my turn.” He hisses, pressing the tip of his lubed cock to your ass. 

He’s so thick that it stings, even with all that lube and previous preparation. You bite into Minho’s shoulder, and your fingernails dig into the back of his neck. Minho squeezes your ass, a little pain to distract you from the huge stretch Chanbin’s cock is causing.

“Yeah, bunny. That’s it. Good girl. So tight for Binnie.” 

“So full of cock.” Minho hums and rolls his hips up into you. 

You lean back against Changbin’s chest and he reaches around to fondle both your tits. 

The pair hold you between them, rhythmically rolling their hips simultaneously. Jeongin kneels down next to you so he can get a good look at the action, and Felix suddenly has his camera out taking photos.

You’re delirious, putty in their hands. You stop noticing what’s going on around you, when suddenly you feel so empty. Changbin has blown and is pulling out, stepping out of the way so another could have a turn. This time it is Hyunjin with his long cock, delivering deep thrusts to your ass. He comes quickly, then makes way for Suengmin. 

He is just as rough with your ass as he was with your cunt earlier, brutally fucking you until you think you’re actually going to pass out. 

“Not gonna stop, or go easy on her unless she uses her color code or safe word.” He declares, hitting you extra hard. “She asked for rough. She gets rough.”

“Is she even conscious?” Someone, you think it’s Han, asks concerned.

“Hey! Babygirl.” Chan peels off some hair stuck to your cheek. “You still with us?”

Only your eyes move to meet his. “Don’t stop.” you manage to say.

Seungmin laughs. “See. Told you so.” He doubles down, thrusting up so hard you bounce on his cock, pushing you up the length of Minho’s, then slipping back down onto them. He repeats this several times, your moaning increasing in volume each time you slide back down their cocks.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum.” Minho announces. The sensation of him pulsing inside you and the relentless attack on your ass has you coming too, long and hard, and you actually scream this time.

Satisfied with his efforts, Seungmin lets himself go, cumming deep up your ass with a growl.

>>>>>

After every one had calmed down, it is agreed that there’d be no more ass fucking after what Seungmin just did. 

They carry you over to the mattress, laying you on your back, and examining your holes. You are still out of it, and you wonder if this is what sub space is? 

Someone, you don’t know who, spreads your pussy and asscheeks apart, and you feel more cum leak out of you. 

“I wasn’t that rough. I bet she could take two cocks up there at the same time.” 

“Oooh.” Han’s interest is piqued. 

“No!” Minho growls at him, then presses a bottle of water to your lips. “Here, drink.” He says lifting your head so you could take a sip.

“M-more.” You mumble. Minho brings the bottle back, but you shake your head. 

“More what, love?” Felix asks.

“H-haven’t had the-the Ch-chief.” You whimper.

“I’m not sure you’re up for tha-”

“Please!” You wail, your hands grasping for him. “Want all of you again.” 

Slap! A harsh slap across your cheek, brings you out of your delirious state. Your eyes snap open to find that Han was the one slapped you in the face. You blink rapidly, eyes watering, shocked.

“S-sorry. It’s just… I know how you’re feeling right now. You just want to float away and let us do anything we want. But we need to make sure we have your consent first.”

The others nodded in agreement.

“You can go back to La La Land in a minute, but you need to clarify what you want.” Chan reiterated stroking your thigh tenderly.

You looked at each of the men kneeling and sitting around you. Each and every one of them has satisfied your desires. None of them have overstepped any boundary, or hurt you in any way. You know they won’t hurt you now either.

“I want to…just lay here and have each of you fuck me again. I want cocks in my mouth. Fingers anywhere you want. Play with me. Touch me. Stroke me. Pinch me. Slap my tits. I want to let go, and just be.” You shrug.

They all look at you with understanding eyes. They get it. They know what you mean. Finally, you’ve stopped feeling ashamed. This is the real you. This is what makes you feel good. And it’s okay.

“Your wish is our command. Lay down for us, yeah? Let us take what we want from you?” Chan coos.

“Mmm hmm.” You whimper, laying back down, and letting yourself fall back into the blissful state you were in before.

Hands caress your body, some soft and gentle, others tugging and squeezing. Then mouths start to land on your body. Sweet, warm, gentle kisses peppered along your skin. Sloppy, wet sucking of nipples, earlobes, neck, toes. Your fingers are put into mouths before being wrapped around a cocks. Thick, skilled fingers fill your pussy.

You moan as the men devour you.

Chan lifts your legs up, folding them so your knees are up near your chest. 

“Oh the mating press? That’s gonna be so deep. She’s gonna feel all of you.” Hyunjin notes.

“Baby girl needs to feel us for days to come.” Chan grunts and hisses as his thickness stretches your entrance. “That’s the girl. Let Channie in.” He eases into you slowly, pushing on the backs of your legs to ensure ultimate depth.

“S’big.” You mumble, and a few men chuckle softly as though you’re endearing to them. 

Fingers come to your mouth, Han’s, and slip inside. You suck on them immediately, willingly, allowing him to slip them in further, like he’s gently fucking your face. 

You think you’ve gone cross-eyed when Chan pushes in one last time and bottoms out. “So deep, huh? Feel good?” He asks you. 

You moan around Han’s fingers.

“Gonna fuck you now, yeah? Nice and deep.” He slowly pulls out halfway, pauses, then presses inside to the hilt. He pauses there for a moment too, before pulling back out and repeating the movement. Each pause feels like an eternity, and he laughs every time you whine in protest.

“Oh, you want me to go faster?” He smirks, but you are too out of it to see his expression, so he just starts to fuck you harder and faster anyway. Your tits bounce for you on each impact, and eager hands continuously grope at them. Jeongin slaps one of them, and Felix bites the other.

You only realize the fingers are gone from your mouth when you feel a cock brush against your cheek.

“Hey! Hey.” You automatically turn towards it, seeking it blindly. “Shh.. Here you go, pop this in.” It’s Changbin bullying his cock head into your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum, baby girl. You ready?” Chan pushes into you as far as he can, holding himself there as he empties himself into you with a high pitched moan. 

>>>

You’ve lost track of who’s inside you, one after the other take turns, while you’re continuously fed cock. Some pull you in different positions, like flat on your stomach while they lay flush against your body and grind into you from behind. Another has your legs thrown over their shoulder. 

Han can’t decide on what position to have you, but eventually settles on having you half turned on your side while he straddles your straightened leg, and uses your bent leg for leverage. “It’s the best of both worlds. I can grab her ass, or her tits” he pants whilst giving them a slap and a squeeze.

“Yeah, and I can slide my cock right down her throat.” Chan decides he needs to feel your mouth around him one last time before this ends.

Finally, Minho hovers over you. He has you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he lays against your body. He watches your face intensely while he fucks you so incredibly slowly. 

You’re not sure what the others are doing, they’ve all stopped touching you, and you don’t care to look for them. You’re too captivated by the man above you, and you don’t dare look away. His eyes are curious, kind, and so utterly accepting of you.

You bite your lip and the smallest of whimpers escapes your mouth. The corner of his lip twitches as he holds back a smirk. 

“Feel good?” He says low. You grin and nod your head. “What about this?” He rolls his hips in a way that grazes that spot. Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head, but you don’t let them. You want to watch his expression as you come around him.

And you are coming. It’s not a big, violent release, but blissful waves of pleasure. The pulsing doesn’t ease, and as Minho continues to fuck you, you realise you’re coming a second time. 

“Oh!” You choke as this one hits you with more intensity. 

“I know you’ve got one last one for me. Come with me, kitten.” He says so only you can hear.

His thrusts speed up as he seeks his own release, and with one final thrust, you both fall off the cliff together. Squeezing, pulsing, throbbing. Together. 

>>>>

After care with these guys is exquisite. You’re wiped down with warm wet towels and given plenty of water to drink, followed by more food. 

“You need to eat before you get washed up properly. We don’t want you fainting in there.” Seungmin explains. “Then we’ll sort out your debrief and release process.”

>>>>

Minho carries you to a bathroom you haven’t been taken to before. It isn’t nasty like the one where he found you sobbing on the filthy tiles. 

He’s relieved to finally get you properly soaked and cleaned. Would you know that it was him who washed and folded your clothes and left them on the bathroom counter? He’d even retrieved your panties from the floor of the police car.

The tub was already full of hot water and bubbles, and after he undresses you, he lowers you into the tub carefully. He makes the mistake of looking at your face. Why do you have to look at him like that? Sucking in your lip and gazing at him longingly.

He sighs, thinking about how you wanted all the others, and him, to fuck you absolutely dumb.

“Here, let me wash you properly.” He says sternly, trying to force his thoughts to stay on task. But that doesn’t help because you’re exposing your breasts now, letting him soap them up.

Jesus fucking Christ. The way your walls squeezed him when you came three times for him at the end there, it felt like his heart was being squeezed at the same time. Those three orgasms were just for him too. You were too focused on looking into his soul to notice anyone else. No one else was touching you. It was just you and him in that moment.

Stop it. He wills the thoughts away. But when the sponge he’s washing you with slips between your thighs, and he’s washing away everyone’s cum, he thinks about how he felt watching you be fucked.

You looked so beautiful at the mercy of so many cocks. It made his dick throb seeing you with Seungming taking you from behind while you choked on Han’s dick. And the way you begged for more while your eyes lost focus and you didn’t care whose cock you had in which hole? It was erotic, and he loved it.

But he also wanted to pull them all away and have you just for himself.

“Are you okay, Minho?” You ask softly and bring him out of his thoughts.

He nods. “Yeah. Just kind of like having you around. We have discounts for return customers if you’re interested?” He grins.

You look at him incredulously. “Really?” You say, pulling back and looking at him suspiciously.

He nods again and laughs. “I promise I’m not shitting you.”

He is shitting you. They don’t really have discounts, but maybe Chan and Seungmin would make an exception?

Eventually, he pulls himself together, managing to help you out of the tub and dressing you without losing control and doing something inappropriate.

You’ll be gone soon and it won’t matter. It won’t take long to forget you. That’s a lie and he knows it.

>>>>>>>>>

You’re given your debriefing session with Chan, and Seungmin, who you have come to learn, is very much part of the administration and organization side of things for their establishment-slash-services.

“This is your folder of information, feedback forms, photographs… Oh, and your police reports from the Officers.” 

You take the folder from him, flicking through the pages quickly. 

“Also,” Chan adds. “You will receive a phone call in a week to check on your wellbeing. Minho will now take you to your car. It was a pleasure pleasuring you.” He smiles and gives you a big, warm hug, and you don’t want to leave.

MInho walks you to your car, which at some point had been driven to the police station and parked around the back.

“I’ve put your address in the GPS, so you’re good to go. Keys are in the ignition.” He says.

“Thank you.” You say, turning and leaning on the door of the car. “I can’t believe it’s over.” 

You sigh.

Minho takes a step back, hands deep in his pockets and eyes fixed to the ground. “Yeah, it went too quickly.” He scuffs his shoe through the gravel on the ground in front of him.

You wait for him to say something more, but he doesn’t.

“O-okay. Well…I’ll be off then.” You say with a big smile, hoping he doesn’t hear the strain in your voice. You turn to open the car door, to leave forever. Well, you can always hire them again, right? You remind yourself as you go to open the door.

You’re taken by surprise when a hand pushes the door closed again and spins you around and presses you against the car. Minho. He holds the side of your waist one hand, the other comes to cup your cheek. He looks into your eyes so intensely that you stop breathing. Then he lowers his eyes to your lips. 

“Minho?” You squeak.

He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he leans in closer, brushing his lips with yours. Tingles spread through your entire body just from this minute contact. But then he’s crashing down on you, taking your lips harshly, desperately, passionately. 

You’re melting, your legs weakening, but he holds you firm. 

He only breaks away to catch a breath, then he’s back, kissing you deeply, this time seeking to slip his tongue inside your mouth. 

He moans against you when you fight back and push your tongue into his mouth.

He pushes his crotch against you as your tongues continue to dance together in the perfect balance of soft and wild.

Your body is on fire, the butterflies in your tummy swirling uncontrollably, and your core aches for him. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, not wanting to let go. 

He hooks an arm under one of your thighs, lifting it so he can grind harder against your core. The friction from his hardness against you has you soaking. 

Eventually, the kiss comes to completion, and Minho pulls away to lean his forehead on yours.

“Thought you didn’t do kissing on the lips, Mister?” You smirk.

He smiles. “I don’t. But I don’t normally crush on a client either.” He strokes your cheek and leans in for another long kiss.

>>>>

A/n: I hope you enjoyed the series! I'm a little sad it's over, but you never know what can happen in the future. I'm happy to answer asks about this series too. Like for example "what did they put in their polices reports?" or "give us a first date with minho." You know, things like that :-)

>>>>>>

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