#sorry for the grammar in advance

[dnfity]

HAPPY THANKSIGIVING AMERICANS RAHHHH. i wrote this inspired by this beautiful sappy post.

-

Dream takes George to his parent’s house for Thanksgiving. Two years ago, it was Christmas. A lot has changed since then. (sorry for the melancholy feeling idk where that came from)

[joblrcensus]

it’s time for the JOblr census results 🧡🙌

before we start i want to thank everyone who took their time to answer this silly little project, gathering responses from 203 baby boos!! it’s my first time doing this so hopefully i can bring some excitement with the results <3

so buckle up and let’s get into it

general questions

Which continent are you from?

Unsurprisingly, the majority is European with a total of 80.8% but it’s amazing to see that they’ve crossed the continent’s border and we also have 9.9% people from North America, 3.9% from Australia & Oceania, 3.4% from Asia and 2% from South America. No person chose the Africa option.

Which country are you from? (optional)

With this being an optional question, 162 respondents out of 203 opted to answer it. Let’s take a look at the top countries by number of people in JOblr (small note: I counted the few people who wrote England or Scotland as part of the UK answer)

Drumrolls 🥁…..

Finland - 29

UK & USA - 15

Germany - 11

Poland - 9

Italy - 8

Australia - 7

Sweden - 6

Austria, Spain, The Netherlands - 5

Croatia, Slovenia - 4

Czechia, France, Romania - 3

Belgium, Canada, Denmark, Hungary, Lithuania, Norway, Philippines, Portugal, Ukraine - 2

Bolivia, Brazil, China, Estonia, Greece, Iceland, India, Luxembourg, Malta, Mexico, Russia, Switzerland - 1

How old are you?

45.8% of us are between 18-25, following by 23.6% between 26-30, 18.2% between 31-45, 10.8% under 18 and two people who are over 45 years old.

Are you part of the LGBTQ+ community?

Remember when they said Joker Out are for the girls and gays? 🏳️‍🌈

Well that was absolutely not wrong since 77.3% baby boos answered that yes they are part of the community, while 11.8% are questioning and 10.8% have answered no

tumblr activity questions

How do you participate on JOblr?

a majority of 98 people are mostly reblogging posts in the fandom but sometimes making posts of their own, 38 are only reblogging while 36 lurkers have stepped out of the shadow and made themselves known. The least amount of people (31) said to be active posters

Do you post any of the following?

It’s already known this fandom is mad talented and entertaining!! It’s always a joy seeing everyone’s creations and posts no matter the type. And the people who are only enjoying and supporting the content are just as important 🫶

Do you also post about Käärijä?

Since these two fandoms are basically overlapping, sometimes even seen as one fandom, I was curious just how much

50.7% also post about Käärijä outside of Joker Out, while 35% don’t post about him at all (or perhaps very rarely). 14.3% are mainly coming from Käärijä’s fandom

joker out questions

How did you find out about Joker Out?

Another unsurprising result, with 89.7% of us finding out about them through Eurovision. But it was really cool to see that there are people who discovered them differently. Ten people found out about them through Tumblr or other social media, to four they were recommended by someone and one through a music platform. The “other” option was chosen as well and included:

finding out about JO through Käärijä

through a music blog review

on slovenian radio

Who from the current members is your favorite?

One of the hardest questions but it had to be done

So Tumblr’s top favorite members areee:

Bojan - 69 votes

Jan - 42 votes

Kris - 40 votes

Nace - 35 votes

Jure - 17 votes

Have you been to a Joker Out concert?

I did not expect this one to be so balanced but I am pleasantly surprised! 104 people have been to a JO concert, while 99 haven’t. It often feels like you’re the only person who hasn’t seen them live yet but it’s nice to see that you’re not alone, so if anyone feels the same don’t worry our time will come too 🥹

If you answered yes, have you seen them multiple times?

Out of the 104 people who previously answered yes, there’s still a balance between those who have been to only one concert and those who have been to multiple

If you’re into RPF, which one of the most popular ships (according to AO3) is your favorite?

Another optional question where 181 out of 203 opted to respond to.

Oh boy, ooooh boy this was a tough battle. It felt like I was watching a horse race. I can tell you that all three ships have been at some point in the first place, or even equal. Are you ready to see the most interesting result yet?

Drumrolls again 🥁…….

BoJere - 58 votes

BoKris - 57 votes

Jance - 56 votes

The “other” option was also chosen and the following ships were included:

BoMartin

Jan/Jure

Kris/Jure

Nace/Kris

Nace/Jere

poly!JO

aaaand that’s it, you made it to the end 🫶 hope you enjoyed and why not see you on the next census!!

[diamantdog]

instagram keeps suggesting me posts/videos about louis tomlinson bringing his TV to Glastonbury to watch the England vs. Slovakia match, and i'm, like, "wow, this would've been all over tumblr a decade ago." 👵

[larcenywrites]

Never apologize for not feeling up to writing. I love your interactions with your readers. The asks and your replies get me through my work night by giving me something else to focus on.

I hope you get feeling better soon for your own sake. ❤️❤️

It’s been so frustrating not feeling the want or ability to write for so long now :( and having such horrible brain fog. Because I mean, I do want to, but it’s been so hard focusing and I just haven’t been feeling that spark I always used to have when writing :( you know, I actually haven’t read those superior iron man comics my friend got me a few months ago (I believe it’s every volume?) so maybe exposing myself to more content again will also help tbh!

In slightly random news, I have enjoyed writing in a general sense more lately. I’ve changed my degree from finance (horrible major btw) to writing and publication and have had fun so far! Though it’s still pretty hard and a ton of work, at least I have been writing in general and have (mostly) enjoyed doing it! And also, I literally hadn’t read anything (aside from textbooks) in literal years??? And reading for my composition class has been fun and all, but I recently found a 128 year old copy of St. Elmo and have enjoyed it!! I haven’t enjoyed reading in years 😭

[sketch-guardian]

Mc putting bows,ribbons,stickers or just painting (with they’re consent of course) on the eye things and just being fond of them +plus mobim joining in plausibly? - Mc who loved Mobim asker

Hello Mobim lover anon!🤗 Don't worry I remember you, since your ask was quite recent and I'm glad you enjoyed last time's post about Mobim☺I'm also happy to see demons like Mobim and the eye-like creatures getting appreciated✨especially because I'm not sure how they would be canonically viewed in Obey Me honestly🤔Anyway, before starting, since you didn't specify "RAD classmates with MC", I assumed you meant just a scenario between MC and the other little monsters for this ask🙈I hope I understood correctly😣if I didn't, please feel free to tell me so,in that case I'll try to fix the problem as soon as I can😢Now, moving on to your ask:

MC BEING FOND OF ODON'S EYE-LIKE CREATURES (+MOBIM)

Odon's eye-like creatures have each shown to possess different behavior traits, so MC may receive conflicting answers depending on which creature they interact with. Usually only two eyes are mainly shown in public, one rather cheerful and playful while the other serious and exasperated. MC would have no problem dealing with the first one, it would prove to be a rather affectionate, cordial creature and willing to be scrambled, provided MC doesn't touch it right in the eye with fingers or other objects, because if they did so,even on accident, both creatures may lash out involuntarily out of pain.

Besides that point, bows and ribbons would be not only cute, but also pratical, useful for distinguishing them, as it is particularly difficult to do so and the stickers and painting would be an interesting experience for them, having never tried anything like that on skin, however it would be safer to use non-harmful products and then help them remove them after a while, for although they are hardy, they have no arms to clean themselves with and it is unknown what effect human products might have on them,still they appreciate being asked for consent and MC's concern for them. As for the other eye-like creature, the grumpy one, it would show a little more resistance to being touched,playing hard to get, despite secretly wanting to feel MC's affection too and in the end, it would join the fun, still a bit jealous with Mobim in the same room, who would not understand the situation or notice the glare of the grumpy eye, therefore limiting itself to gladly helping MC to decorate the creatures, to arrange the details and in turn act as a model too.

The eye-like creatures and Mobim, if we don't count the slight jealousy present when MC has to decide who to spend their time playing with, get along quite well and help each other both for serious things and for activities such as playing together,after all they're all very fond of MC and they don't want to upset them.

Basically, the eye-like creatures would respond with silent enthusiasm, some more and some less, but there is something MC should be aware of: although usually only two eye-like creatures manifest, these monsters just like Odon's limbs in their demon form are multiple and by taking care of them with love and care, there is the risk of attracting a whole up to ten or more of these creatures, waiting for their turn to receive their dose of affection from MC and some even from Mobim. In that case MC could boast, feeling like the most protected and kept in sight human of Devildom, but perhaps it would be better to avoid such situation, because taking care of so many different eye-like creatures and distinguishing them with bows, stickers and paint could be complicated,so perhaps it would be better to limit to three creatures only for the moment, namely the two main eye-like creatures (who Azul once playfully named Bob and Rob-) and Mobim

[raynavan]

Ok so, turns out this “princess Mononoke” Submas au was a bit big for a single post (and also I can not do all of this in one day) so I’m only going over the beginning of this story.

Dw if you know nothing about princess Mononoke or have never watched the movie. I’ll fill all that in (to the best of my ability) as necessary.

This is not a fic, and I would not have the energy or time to make this a fic, but I will be treating this a bit like… a campfire story. 

(I am shamelessly stealing this from @/coramatus sorry not sorry love the way you tell stories)

Oh and, I hate that I have to say this, BLANK SHIPPERS DNI yes I’m aware the two characters that are Ingo and Emmet in this au like each other. This is not the case in this story, they are brothers. Please go somewhere else. Thank you. 

Alright so, part one here we go:

Emmet and Ingo live in a small town in the east. There aren’t many people living there and everyone knows everyone. Ingo and Emmet usually are the ones on watch, or leave the town to get goods from other places far off, because they have a particularly large Pokémon team. 

See, while the town is known for taking care of Pokémon and respecting them, not many train their pokemon (or having Pokémon willing to) to such a strength. Mostly, the important thing to note is that they love their partners dearly. 

They carved pokeballs out of stone and wood to keep their partners safe when they go out. The Pokémon enjoyed it as it meant they could be right by their partners side even as they slept.

Ingo was out on an expedition, one that was supposed to only take him a few days. When a week goes by, people begin to worry. 

Emmet had been patrolling the forest's edge, being careful not to enter the forest itself, for over a month looking for him. His partners were tough, but the larger portion of their team had gone out with Ingo, and he did not wish to take any risks. 

It is during one of these patrols that he spots a shadow shifting behind the trees, and huge creeks of straining wood as trees fall down in a straight path. Immediately Emmet springs to his feet and runs to warn the rest of town, as whatever is knocking down the forest is heading straight to the village.

As he glances behind him, though, he spots a horrible mass of pitch black tendrils leaping out of the forest and killing the fields of grain. He can’t even see the things face behind the black- just two bright red eyes. 

As the beast just keeps up with him, Emmet realizes that the town wouldn’t even have time to prepare if he did warn them, so he sends out Eelektross and calls out to use thunder- a devastating attack that… doesn’t really do much but stumble the strange thing from the woods. 

Emmet comes to realize that this must be one of the forest gods, as they are some of the most powerful Pokémon known, and that only they could have shrugged off that kind of attack. Emmet shouts at the god to please not attack the village, but the god does not listen.

It does stop to properly face Emmet, however, bemoaning about the human race, and how destructive and cruel they are. How they deserve nothing but distraction and pain, if they were filled with such greed. 

Emmet asks what the god means, but it isn’t listening, only screaming out and firing a tendril at Emmet that he is too slow to dodge.

“You shall feel my hate! You shall be consumed with it!” 

The tendril wraps around his arm in burning pain, leaving behind deep marks on his skin. Emmet's Pokémon react, shooting attack after attack at the god, only managing to knock off some of the black mass covering its body. 

It starts towards the village again, where people are scrambling to get out, but just as it is beginning to enter its proper, a shadow ball hits its side, making it buckle. 

Emmet looks up and sees Ingo’s ace, Chandelure, screech at the god, covering it with flames. Five others come out and help, beating back the god with over double the firepower. 

They knock off just enough of the black tendrils that Emmet is able to see glints of a gold crown and a gray body. Yet it does not go down. It stands tall a screams out once more-

“YOU SHALL FEEL MY HATE!”

And disappears into the shadows. 

-

Emmet's arm aches as Elesa pours fresh water over it, and the skin hissed like a hot pan in water. The people are worried about a curse possibly befalling the village, but mostly they worry for Emmet and Ingo, who has still not returned and is now without his Pokémon. 

Drayden, the oldest and wisest of All of them, says that Emmet has been cursed with something he cannot mend. The magic is too old and powerful for him to do much, but in the east there is another god that could heal him. 

The god of creation, arceus. 

It has not been seen by them for a long, long time. But if this curse is not healed then it would seep into his bones and kill him from the inside out, while his hatred grows. 

Emmet agrees to go, both to hopefully find a cure, but to also look for his brother. With a hug and a sack of food and tools, Emmet sets off to the west. 

Perhaps, just maybe, he would be able to find out what had made that god so angry as well.

[griponthenews]

no because that meme of someone watching a streamer play their favourite game but they misunderstand it horrendously. That’s literally me with Not for Broadcast. I have yet to see a streamer play it and use like their actual brain and critical thinking skills when choosing whether to side with Advance vs Disrupt. Like the point of the game is nuance and the grey morality of both sides but these people will just assume everything Advance do is bad while supporting Disrupt without questioning any of their actions because Advance are the government and therefore automatically pure evil? Say what you will about Julia’s government, but early game Advance genuinely have some stellar policies. But every streamer I’ve seen play this game always goes fully pro-Disrupt as soon as they have the option to do so, without considering the actual good things Advance are doing at that point, like the Menu Centres or the Assets and Wealth Act. I’m not forgetting about their inexcusable actions later on in the game (if you’ve played it then you’ll know what I’m talking about), but even then that was mainly Julia’s decision rather than Advance’s (can’t remember which ending it is but there’s that tape where Peter is very clearly against what Julia did). Arguably the best epilogue of the game happens when the public is in favour of Advance over Disrupt. But because typically in dystopian fiction the rebel faction is the morally better choice I guess people assume Disrupt must be too? Despite all this the most annoyed I’ve ever been watching someone play this game was when at the end the guy said (in a roundabout way of complimenting her I guess??) that Megan’s actor did a good job at making you hate her. How someone can come out of this game hating MEGAN WOLFE of all characters is beyond me.

sorry for how incoherent and badly formatted this post is I just have to rant about Not for Broadcast or I’ll explode.

[littlemissfix-itfic]

After the Bad Days

Weeks after one of Dean’s really bad days, you’re in a diner, grabbing a quick bite with Dean, Sam, and Cas after a hunt. As you’re walking back to your table, you can hear Cas and Dean talking, but you’re not near enough to make out any of the conversation. You round the corner away from the bathrooms, and you hear the soft vulnerability in Dean’s voice as he murmurs, to himself more than to Cas. Sam and Cas pause, looking at him with surprised relief, and you slide into the booth next to him. Noting the pause in the conversation becoming awkward, you elbow him softly with a smile and offer up a few shining compliments about his work on the hunt you had just finished up. Your food arrives, and you all dig in, conversation resuming their regular flow. You can’t help but notice the smile that stays on Dean’s lips, and hope to yourself, and whomever or whatever else might be out there that cares, that it remains longer than the last smile did.

[COVERED IN BLOOD] Perhaps the world is slightly brighter having me in it.

[gojosatorubrainrot]

Scars don't define you💫

Summary: Gojo starts to feel insecure about your love for him because of his scars

Feat: Gojo Satoru x reader

Content: fluff, mentions of Gojo vs Sukuna fight, reassuring, body insecurities, husband!Gojo x Wife!Reader. Ch 261 doesn't exist lol

Wc: 1121

Author's note: Hi!! I've never thought I will ever be doing this but here we are! Encouraged by my gojo friends in discord to continue this drabble🥰 Sorry in advanced for my poor grammar, English is not my first language 🫡

The Shinjuku incident meant a reborn for the the strongest sorcerer, and you, his wife as well. You almost lost the love of your life by the hands of the King of Curses. At first, you thought everything was over when you saw him laying down on the floor, his lifeless body starting to be covered by the heavy snow storm that had began to fall minutes earlier.

You felt useless, after all, you were a non sorcerer, so,as a civilian, you didn't to have another choice than staying where Shoko and the others were watching the battle being broadcasted.

But its been a long time since that jumpscare and you thanked every existent God and also Shoko for bringing your reason of living back to your arms.

Satoru and you both were laying in bed together, you are running your fingers along his scarred face; each fingertips of yours feeling every single injury of his skin.

As you continue with your doing,he closes his eyes at the softness of your sweet touch, at first, he enjoys it a lot, he always loved the way you did it, always being careful as if he was a glass meant to break, but fear set up on his mind;he thought you hated his scars, that you despise them and  those marks ruined his pretty face, that you wouldn't love him anymore and, eventually, you would leave him alone as everyone did during his life, but this time, he wouldn't have a reason of living because you are his everything.

He doesn't even want to think how a life without in it would be, how alone he would feel again just like he did after Suguru's departure.

When that event occurred, when he was ordered to kill his best friend, he has never felt so useless as a sorcerer, but most of all, as a human being, so that was the reason he chose to stay alone for the rest of his days, to prevent someone from getting hurt by the mere fact of being involved with him. That was his idea until he met you at his favorite kikufuku store. He didn't believe in love at the first sight until he met you nor how does it feel to be in love until you.

you, his everything

He was afraid of losing you again, but now it was because of his appearance, he hated those scars because that meant you won't call him pretty angel or pretty face ever again. On the other hand, they were his reminder of a second opportunity, an opportunity he would take advantage of. His second chance to make things right and spend as much time as he could with you: not spending nights working or on mission trips, only with you, his home.

Now he is debating if telling you or not about his insecurity with his scarred skin, because he thinks you would laugh at this and ignore him, but call him silly for thinking that.

As he thinks about that, he sits up, preparing to get his shirt on. You can see how the mood changed, how an intimate moment filled with love and adoration became one filled with insecurities and non spoken words. He is looking for his shirt to put it on and leave the bedroom towards the balcony, so he can spare his mind off a little bit.

You wonder why he was feeling troubled and why he decided to ignore you and not talking with you as he has always done before. You are hesitant about ask him or not, you always wanted to give Satoru his space, you always respected that because after some time, he will come to you and tell you everything between thousands and thousands sorry for not telling you before.

All you can see now is his scarred back, and your intuition is screaming at you to do something so he could open himself up to you. After few seconds, an idea popped up in your mind; while satoru has his head between his hands, you approached to him slowly trying to not get noticed.

Satoru, who was lost in thoughts, suddenly felt your plump and soft lips along his scared back, giving it small pecs and smooches, replacing your lips with your small fingers tracing every single scar. He didn't understand what you were doing so he let you do so. Suddenly,he feels something he has only felt with you and you only: loved, adored, cherished, he was seen as a human, not a pretty face as he has been called few times, the strongest weapon for the jujutsu society, he was Satoru Gojo for you, your Toru.

He turned his head to where you were tracing your fingers and stared at you: you were focused and determined to make him feel alive again.

His small chuckle made you look up and meet those blue eyes you fell in love with many years ago;

"Hi sweets" he whispered without looking away" What are you doing?"

"Hi Toru" you giggled at that nickname he gave you only when you both were in an intimate moment "Nothing, just admiring your beauty" you responded never looking away from his mesmerizing blue eyes.

"Nothing about me is beautiful, princess" he said defeated. "Look at me" he pointed at his scarred skin, despising it, hating it.

"I'm looking at you, Toru. I'm always looking at you and all I see it's the prettiest, the most caring, loving man that I've ever met" you said putting his face in between your hands "I love you,Toru. If you ever think those scars will stop me from loving you, I must tell you don't me well. These scars are telling me that you are here" you give him a kiss in the tip of his pinky nose "alive, with me in our home"

After yours words, Satoru’s eyes immediately fill with tears, but before you notice, he closes his eyes to stop them and leans his head to your warm and reassuring touch, a warm feeling inside his chest arises.

He feels so grateful with you, you are his everything.You stopped caressing him at the moment he opens his eyes, blue like the ocean itself "I love you, angel" he says at the same time you started caressing the scar across his cheek.

"I love you too, Satoru and remember that you can tell me any trouble or inconvenience you are living through, okay? I'll always love you until my last breath" you said finishing the sentence with a quick kiss, which is immediately reciprocated 

With this Satoru knew that he would never feel alone again.

[gothcsz]

𝐈𝐈𝐈 | Marcus Acacius x Fem!Reader x Lucius Verus Aurelius | ~13k wc (woops) | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: Lucius Aurelius, the stepson of wealthy and renowned architect Marcus Acacius, falls in love with you, Marcus's personal assistant. However, you're already in the midst of a tangled affair with his stepfather. (based on)

Tags: modern!au, family drama, they're both arrogant architects with egos out of this world, reasonable age gap between marcus and reader, infidelity (sorry lucilla), porn with plot, dirty talk, degradation (slut, whore), spanking, oral (f&m receiving), facial, unprotected p in v sex (this is fiction be smart irl), anal, spit as lube, cum eating, creampie kink, baby's first mmf threesome, double penetration, jealousy!, possessiveness!, but the boys are learning how to share, everyone is kind of shitty, some latin (carissime/dear, praecantrix/enchantress, dulcissima/sweetest), no use of y/n, reader has long hair, any typos/grammar mistakes are of my own doing and i apologize in advance, if i missed any other tags pls let me know okay, thanks!

A/N: i sense a pattern occurring with this specific pairing and i ain't mad at it! ridley scott knew what he was doing when casting these two hunks. this is for my love @almostempty, always on the frontlines of the threesome fic movement 🫡 okay, i hope you all enjoy reading and let ya girl know what you think 🖤

Marcus’s lips curl into a slow, smug smile as he watches you. “Come on, my carissime,” he murmurs, a gravelly caress against your heated skin. “You can do better than that. I know you can.” His large hand cups the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, tugging just enough to make your scalp tingle.

He brushes the stray strands from your face, his touch tender despite the edge of authority in his tone. He wants to see you—wants to savor the way your lips stretch around the thick girth of his cock, the way your cheeks hollow as you struggle to take more of him.

Drool drips from the corner of your mouth, and your eyes flutter upward, catching his smoldering gaze. His golden flecked eyes darken as he drinks you in, and you can’t help but admire him from your position between his powerful thighs.

The streaks of silver weaving through his dark brown curls and beard catch the light, a testament to his age and masculinity.

His chiseled features, strong and weathered, are the kind you’ve explored endlessly—memorizing every dip and ridge with your lips and fingertips. 

Marcus is more than handsome; he’s devastating, a man aging like fine wine—complex, intoxicating, and wholly addictive.

He’s right, of course. You can do better. You’ve done better. But Marcus’s cock always demands a moment of adjustment, a slow surrender to its sheer size and delicious thickness. It’s a challenge you relish, evidence of your enthusiasm to satisfy.

Pulling off him with a gasp, you let your hand slide up his spit slick shaft, jerking him with gentle pressure. A web of saliva bridges your lips to his flushed, throbbing cock, and you purse your lips, spitting onto him, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet room.

Marcus watches you, his lips quirking into a crooked smirk, pride and desire flickering across his sharp features.

“Look at you,” he praises, his thumb brushing along the corner of your mouth, wiping away a strand of drool that’s smudged your lipstick, dragging it across your cheek.

The adoration of the gesture is at odds with the thirst in his eyes, his pupils blown wide with lust as he takes in the way you work for him. “Messy little thing. You love this, don’t you?”

Your answer comes in the form of a teasing smirk, your tongue darting out to swipe at his head. The salty tang of his precum dances on your taste buds, and you slap his cock against the pink muscle, the soft thud making you dizzy.

Your lips then glide over the pulsating, veined flesh of his cock and the weight of him on your tongue sends a deep pulse of heat straight to your cunt. It has you shifting slightly on your knees, your own arousal dampening the thin fabric of your panties, making you crave friction, relief—anything. 

But you know better than to touch yourself without his permission. Marcus thrives on control, his mastery over your pleasure woven into every fiber of his devotion to you.

So though the temptation to sneak a hand down to your needy clit is overwhelming, you revel in the sweet agony of denial, knowing he’ll make the eventual release all the more shattering.

His fingers tighten in your hair, tugging just enough to elicit a muffled moan. The sound vibrates around him, making his cock twitch as you hollow your cheeks again and draw a deep breath through your nose.

Inch by inch, you let him slide deeper, the bulbous tip nudging your uvula, tears pooling in your eyes, the tip of your nose brushing against the coarse hairs at his base.

“Such a praecantrix,” Marcus growls, the Latin rolling off his tongue with an edge of mockery. You love when he speaks to you in the dead language, a relic of his fascination with ancient Roman culture. It feels intimate, and you savor the way he wields it like a weapon meant only for you.

He’s told you as much—that this language, with all its history, is yours alone. 

“So eager to fall to your knees and please a married man. That’s my favorite thing about you, sweetheart. Such a dirty fucking slut.”

The degradation spills over you like molten heat, pooling low in your belly. It’s cruel and intoxicating, and it makes your pussy ache with a mix of shame and desire.

You choke on him, the stretch of his cock testing the limits of your throat, but you don’t pull back. He loves the power, the control, the sight of you struggling yet determined to take everything he gives.

Whether it’s your mouth, your cunt, or on those nights when he’s feeling particularly depraved, your ass—he relishes pushing you to the brink and watching you rise to meet him.

And so what if he’s married? You’ve justified it a hundred times over in your head. His wife should’ve done a better job keeping him satisfied. She shouldn’t have let a man like him go hungry, his appetite desires more than what’s waiting for him at home, which left him roaming, seeking out someone—you—to feed his ravenous needs.

If she couldn’t keep him, that’s not your problem. You didn’t steal him; he came willingly, like a moth to your flame.

You know your role as the other woman. You play it well. During the day, you’re his personal assistant: poised, professional, efficient. You keep his schedule flawless, his coffee perfect, and your interactions just cool enough to deflect suspicion.

But here, in moments like this—when his cock fills your greedy mouth and his filthy words drip into your ears—you’re anything but restrained. You’re his, entirely, bending to his every whim, doing whatever it takes to please him.

No love bites are left where she might see. No lingering perfume to betray you, no smudged lipstick to stain his crisp, tailored shirts. You stay in your lane, as he expects of you, and in return, Marcus makes you feel like an empress—his empress, even if it’s only in secret.

The thrill of being his secret indulgence, his escape, burns hotter than any guilt you once felt. The wrongness of it, the illicit danger of fucking another woman’s husband, only fuels the lustful fire.

You know you shouldn’t. You’ve tried to stop.

The one and only time you tried to end it, it lasted a pathetic seven days. This so-called breakup was spurred on by a friend’s misguided advice.

So, you’d sat him down over a quiet dinner in one of your usual haunts, a restaurant miles away where no one could recognize you, your stomach twisting as you broke the news.

Marcus’s reaction had been icy, his fury masked by a veneer of composure that was somehow worse than an outburst.

The wrinkles on his handsome face deepend before he stood abruptly, throwing down enough cash to cover the bill without a word, leaving you alone to call an Uber, tears dampening your cheeks as you wondered if you’d just lost your job, your lover—or both.

The following days were a cold war. At work, he was stoic and distant, his orders sharp, his reprimands cutting. He barely looked at you, and when he did, his gaze was devoid of the heat you’d grown addicted to. The sting of it was worse than you’d anticipated.

You hated it. You hated yourself for hating it, for craving the attention of a man who wasn’t yours to begin with.

Then, on the eighth day, Marcus snapped. It was late, the floor empty except for you, hunched over your computer. He appeared without warning, dragging you into his office, closing the door with a sharp click.

Before you could speak, he was on you, his hands gripping your hips, his body pinning yours against the cool glass window that overlooked the city.

“You thought you could walk away from me?” His voice was a low growl, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re fucking stupid if you think I’d let my favorite pussy go without putting up a fight.”

That night, he took you hard and fast, his words filthier than ever, his grip bruising and possessive. He made it clear that you weren’t going anywhere—not unless he said so.

And no, he wouldn’t leave her for you. He’d told you as much, his tone unapologetic, almost cruel. But that didn’t matter, not when he was deliciously buried inside your pussy, making you scream his name against the glass.

Now, here you are again—on your knees, his cock filling your throat, his hands tangled in your hair as he reminds you, with every vulgar word, exactly where you belong.

You bring your hand up to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your palm as you keep up your rhythm, your other hand gripping the base of his cock to keep him steady.

The combination draws a sharp hiss from him, and his grip in your hair tightens, holding you in place when his hips start to move in earnest thrusts that force him deeper into your throat as he uses you for his pleasure.

You surrender completely, your body alive with need and your heart racing in sync with his labored breaths.

“Fuck, you’re going to make me come,” he warns, his head tipping back against the leather of his chair. The deep timbre of his voice resonates through you. “You want it, don’t you? My good girl wants every fucking drop.”

Your answer comes in the form of a pornographic moan, your nails digging into his meaty thigh as you nod.

A dull ache spreads across your jaw as you work over his cock, bobbing eagerly, losing yourself in the head you’re giving.

You feel the familiar tightening of his balls, the telltale sign that he’s close, and it spurs you on. Your rhythm grows more frantic, more desperate, sloppy; your lips glossy with saliva as you pop him out of your mouth to lavish attention on his cockhead. You tease the sensitive ridge of his frenulum with slow, deliberate licks, kissing and sucking, worshipping this unit of a man above you.

The muscles of his thighs flex beneath your hands, his body trembling with restrained power. 

Marcus’s growl deepens and he quickly pulls you off his cock. The sharp tug makes you moan, your neck arching gracefully, putting you on display for him like a prized possession.

He stands, towering over you, his broad shoulders and commanding presence casting a shadow that feels consuming. His dark brown eyes bore into yours, appetence and dominance swirling within them.

You stare at him from your position on your knees, swollen lips parted, spit and precum gleaming on your mouth and chin. 

Your breaths come shallow and quick; you know what he wants, so you begin to jerk his cock with both of your fists, twisting your wrists with a skill honed from all the times you’ve gotten him off like this, the wet and lewd sounds of your action having you moan slightly and his grip on your hair tightens.

“Just like that, carissima, milk my cock.”

He comes with a guttural groan, his head thrown back, Adam’s apple bobbing, and you gasp as thick ropes of his release paint your face, splattering across your cheeks, your lips, even your lashes.

You instinctively dart your tongue out, catching the salty taste of him, savoring his essence as though it were nectar from your favorite fruit, giggling softly.

The sight of you, defiled and glowing with satisfaction, makes his hips jerk forward involuntarily, a man undone.

You stroke him through the aftershocks, his cock softening in your hands as you lean into his touch. His grip on your hair loosens, his large fingers threading through it more gently now, brushing it away from your face as he admires his work.

“What a sight, so beautiful on your knees like this, covered in my cum.” Marcus muses, his voice hoarse as his chest heaves. He swipes through the mess on your face, collecting his spend before pressing his fingers into your mouth. You hum, sucking them clean with the same devotion you’ve given his cock.

The taste of him, warm and heady, sends a thrill down your spine.

When he offers you his hand to help you up, you accept it, your knees stiff and aching from kneeling on the rug beneath his desk.

“Your son will be here—” you start, your tone shifting back to professional, delivering the message you initially came in here for before getting… distracted.

“He is not my son,” Marcus snaps, the venom in his voice cutting through the room. He’s buckling his belt with sharp motions, his jaw clenched so tight you can practically hear his teeth grinding.

You don’t flinch—it’s not the first time you’ve seen his temper flare when his stepson is mentioned, and it won’t be the last. Instead, you adjust your tone, correcting yourself smoothly. “Lucius will be here within the hour to discuss the Anderson project.”

You smooth down your work pants, fingers brushing against the creases, and glance into the reflective surface of the nearby cabinet. You already know a trip to the restroom is in order to fix the telltale signs of his rough affection—your swollen lips, disheveled hair, the smudge of mascara beneath your eyes.

Marcus doesn’t respond right away, but the scowl on his face deepens, his broad shoulders rigid as he adjusts the cuffs of his shirt.

The tension between Marcus and Lucius is legendary, an animosity born out of years of neglect, betrayal, and a battle for control over the Aurelius family legacy.

Marcus makes no effort to mask his disdain for his stepson, and Lucius returns the sentiment with equal fervor. Their interactions are charged, each conversation laced with thinly veiled insults and simmering resentment.

Lucius’s childhood, from what you’ve gathered, had been a mess of abandonment and rebellion. Shipped off to boarding schools before he hit puberty, a move orchestrated by his mother, who, by all accounts, seemed eager to rid herself of the burden of raising a troublesome son.

The expulsions came next, one after the other, as Lucius acted out, a desperate bid for his mother’s attention. It never worked. She was too preoccupied with the luxuries of high society to care. Especially not after she married Marcus and skipped her son’s college graduation altogether, solidifying a wedge between them that even time couldn’t mend.

Years later, Lucius had returned with a vengeance, polished and poised, armed with degrees and accolades in both architecture and engineering.

He was ready to reclaim what his grandfather left behind—what Marcus had taken over when he married into the family. 

Lucius wasn’t content to sit on the sidelines. He had marched in and demanded his rightful place—a share in the architectural firm that had been in his family for generations.

You remember that day vividly, the drama unfolding like a soap opera in real-time in the conference room as lawyers from both sides tried to hammer out the details.

Lucius had made it clear that he wasn’t asking for permission—he was taking what was his. Marcus, in contrast, was a picture of barely restrained fury, his fists clenched on the table, his voice cold as he tried to shut his stepson down. 

But the younger man didn’t retract, and by the end of the meeting, he had secured his position as a partner.

For you, the spectacle was captivating, a battleground of egos and legal jargon. Sitting at the edge of the room, your notepad in hand, you watched it all unfold with barely concealed amusement. 

If anything, you’d felt a buzz of anticipation, knowing the tension would wind Marcus so tight he’d take it out on you later. The thought had made you giddy, your pen sliding between your lips as you nibbled on it, your tongue swirling absentmindedly.

You couldn’t help but fantasize about what was to come—the sharp crack of Marcus’ palm against your ass, the growl in his voice as he delivered brutal backshots.

What you hadn’t noticed at the time was Lucius’s gaze on you. Those icy eyes of his watching every flick of your tongue, every scrape of your teeth against the pen.

“Very well,” Marcus says finally, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. “Send him in when he arrives.”

As you turn to leave, his hand shoots out, catching you by the elbow. He pulls you close, his body radiating heat against yours. His thumb swipes over your swollen bottom lip before pressing into your mouth, forcing it open. 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what I owe you, dulcissima,” he murmurs, all dark and seductive. “I’ll take good care of you later tonight. Midnight. Our room.”

The promise in his tone sends excitement through your veins, your thighs pressing together instinctively.

As you start to nod, your mind remembers one tiny detail from his schedule. “You have dinner reservations with Lucil—”  you begin, her name barely leaving your lips before his thumb presses down harder, silencing you with a whimper.

“Don’t say her name,” his eyes narrow, daring you to defy him, “and don’t you worry about that. I’ll be with you. Midnight.”

Midnight. Our room—a luxury suite in one of the hotels he designed, cloaked in opulence and secrecy. It’s where he comes to you after being with her, and sometimes, where he leaves you to go back to her.

The sting of it is subtle now, dulled by repetition. You’ve taught yourself not to dwell on the fact that his hands on you tonight might still carry the scent of her.

You try not to wonder if he kisses her the way he kisses you, if he whispers sweet nothings in her ear the same way he does when he’s buried inside you.

You don’t want to know. It’s easier to exist in this bubble of ignorance where you can pretend you’re the only one who matters.

Instead, you nod obediently, giving in to the charade you’ve chosen. The playful edge returns, and you bite down lightly on his thumb, your teeth grazing the skin in a way that has his lips twitching into a smirk.

Marcus leans in to press his lips against yours passionately, how you like it, lingering just long enough to make your heart ache. It’s maddening how he kisses you—like he means it, like he loves you.

And maybe, in his own twisted way, he does.

You sit behind your desk, eyes averted as she lounges in the small sitting area, waiting for him to finish his meeting.

She’s here to capture Marcus’s attention. It’s a game you’ve grown accustomed to—her attempts to reclaim parts of him she craves—the passion, the primal connection—all things he reserves for you.

And as petty as it is, part of you revels in knowing how little he gives her. What’s left of his affection after he’s spent it all on you is scraps at best.

She may have his last name, his ring, the sprawling mansion he designed and built for her, but none of it holds a candle to the way he devours you in the secrecy of your shared nights.

The door to his office creaks open, and Marcus steps out, his brow furrowed in the perpetual scowl he wears like armor.

She rises from the loveseat, moving to him as though pulled by an invisible string. Their embrace is brief but intimate enough to make your stomach churn. You keep your focus on the glowing screen of your computer, scrolling through emails that blur together as you strain to block out their presence.

Smug satisfaction only goes so far, and the familiar pang of jealousy gnaws at the edges of your confidence.

Their conversation floats toward you: lunch at the country club, a round of golf, insular activities that reek of old money and class—worlds you’ve only glimpsed from behind the scenes, arranging his reservations, managing his calendar, ensuring his whims are catered to. 

You expect him to brush her off, as he often does, leaving her deflated while he buries himself in work—or in you.

But he doesn’t.

“Clear my schedule for the day and remain on standby in case anything should arise.”

His indifference lands like a slap. You glance up briefly, meeting his gaze, and catch the slight twitch of amusement tugging at his lips before leaning in to kiss her.

He’s enjoying this, you realize. Playing you, toying with your jealousy, rubbing it in just enough to sting.

He knows you can see the way he openly parades her, the casual ease with which he can show her off to the world while you’re relegated to the shadows. Lavish gifts and extravagant outings are hers for the taking, while your rewards are delivered in hushed whispers and midnight rendezvous.

Your smile is syrupy sweet, the kind of false cheer that could rot teeth. “Of course, sir. Enjoy your day together,” you chirp, each word coated in venom he’ll detect, even if she doesn’t.

Marcus doesn’t spare you another glance as he guides her toward the elevator, his arm snug around her waist.

The pang in your chest tightens, sharper than usual. He’s not usually like this with her—so overt, so public. This new display of affection unsettles you, sends your thoughts spiraling down dark avenues.

Are they mending things? Rekindling their marriage?

A cold panic begins to rise, but you quash it down, clinging to the task at hand. You bury yourself in clearing his schedule, canceling meetings, rearranging appointments.

It’s easier to focus on the practical than to confront the gnawing fear that you might no longer hold the place in his life you once did.

Some time later, the sound of footsteps approaching pulls you from your task, and when you glance up, it’s none other than Lucius stepping into view. 

He breezes in like he owns the place—well, technically, part of it is his—and you pause the music playing through your earbuds, slipping one out as he approaches your desk.

“He’s not in,” you inform him, polite but curt. “Won’t be until tomorrow. If it’s urgent, I’m sure you have his personal number.”

He doesn’t reply immediately, instead perching himself on the edge of your desk. His fingers idly play with one of the trinkets decorating your workspace, a polished glass paperweight that catches the light and casts fractured rainbows across his dexterous hands.

You narrow your eyes at his intrusion, taking a moment to really look at him. Where Marcus is the epitome of old-school refinement, pressed suits in muted tones and custom leather shoes, Lucius is his foil.

He’s all rich silken shirts in bold colors, stylish sneakers, and enough jewelry to make him gleam under the office lighting.

Rings adorn on his fingers, chains glint at his neck, and his pierced ears and tattoos add that touch of rebellion he’s infamously known for.

He’s hot, undeniably so, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed before.

There’s always been a charge between the two of you, a flirtatious undercurrent in the way he looks at you, the subtle innuendos in his words.

You’ve never acted on it—how could you, not with a man like Marcus whispering promises of ruin and rapture. Your secret lover waiting behind closed doors.

But today… after the way he flaunted her in front of you, the bitterness curdling in your chest craves a taste of some sort of retaliation. It’s irrational, you know, but something inside you itches.

And maybe, just maybe, Lucius is exactly what you need to scratch that itch.

“Then why are you still here?” He finally speaks, partially amused, as those piercing blue eyes lock onto yours. They’re sharp, assessing, and your cheeks warm slightly under the weight of his gaze.

“A busy man like him has a busy schedule that precedes him,” you reply, keeping your tone professional. “It doesn’t organize itself.”

His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile, one that makes your body hum. “Ah, ever the dutiful assistant. He’s lucky to have someone like you keeping his chaos in check.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalant air, though his attention feels like a spotlight. “It’s what I’m being paid to do.”

He tilts his head, the movement almost predatory, gaze giving you a not so subtle once over. “It must be exhausting, though. All work and no play makes for a dull life. When’s the last time you took a break?”

Your brows pinch together. “Why do you care?”

“Because,” he drawls, leaning closer, his cologne—a mix of citrus and something spicier—hitting your senses, “I don’t think someone as pretty as you should spend her days buried in schedules and emails.”

“Flattery doesn’t work on me.” A damn lie.

“Oh, I’m not trying to flatter you.” He smirks, his confidence maddening. “I’m simply stating a fact.”

Before you can form a retort, he straightens, brushing invisible lint off his shirt. “Join me for lunch,” he says, and it’s not quite a question. “You look like you could use a little indulgence.”

Your brain immediately shouts no, warning you of all the ways this is a terrible idea, but your pride, bruised and still licking its wounds from earlier, nudges you forward.

“Lunch?” you ask, raising a skeptical brow. “You and me?”

“Why not?” he replies, his grin boyish but undeniably charming. “Unless you’ve got a better offer.”

You know agreeing to this is risky, a slippery slope, but thinking of Marcus coming back to find out you’ve been out with his stepson stokes a spark of defiance you can’t quite ignore.

“I don’t. And if you’re paying, there’s this new place I’ve been dying to try,” you’re playful with it, standing and grabbing your bag, ignoring the little voice in your head screaming at you for potentially girlbossing a little too close to the sun. “If this ends up being a waste of time, I’m billing you for the hour.”

Lucius gives you a smug smile, his satisfaction evident as he steps aside to let you pass. “Don’t worry, beautiful. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“Oh fuck, just like that,” you moan, your breath hitching as your orgasm crests, fingers gripping the edge of the counter tightly.

Between your spread thighs, Lucius works you with his mouth, his tongue sliding through your folds with obscene skill. His strong nose nudges your clit, each brush sparking jolts of pleasure that leave you trembling.

The cold mirror at your back is a sharp contrast to the heat that’s overtaken your entire being, a reminder of where you are—some ritzy bar’s fancy men’s restroom, the door locked behind you.

Lunch had been harmless enough—until it wasn’t. A few drinks at the bar loosened both of your tongues, flirtatious words became heated looks, and before you knew it, Lucius leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “I think we both know how this is going to end.”

You hadn’t argued when he tugged you toward the restroom, your body tingling with the thrill of doing something so reckless, so delectably wrong. But that’s kind of what you’re into, isn’t it?

The moment the door clicked shut, his mouth had been on yours, kissing you with a fervor that made you forget about everything.

“Been wanting this for so long,” Lucius mutters now as he pulls back, licking his lips, glistening with your sweet slick. His hands grip your thighs, spreading you wider as his darkened blue eyes flick up to meet yours. “Not fuckin’ fair that he gets everything.”

You’re too far gone to care about his words, your head lolling back against the mirror as his lips press a trail of kisses up your inner thigh. “Fuck, Lucius,” you pant, your hands reaching for him, needing more. Your fingers find his dark curls, tugging lightly as he stands, his mouth capturing yours in a kiss that’s all heat and desperation.

His tongue slips past your lips, and you moan at the lingering taste of yourself there. Your hand slides down between you, palming the thick length of him through his pants, and he groans into your mouth, his fingers returning to your pussy, teasing your puffy clit until you’re a whimpering mess.

“Are you going to fuck me right here?” you ask breathlessly, biting your lip as you look up at him through heavy lashes.

He groans, his large hand cradling your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him. “What do you think? Turn around.”

He relinquishes his hold on you, stepping back just enough to give you room, and you obey, spinning to face the mirror, your reflection staring back at you. Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen, and eyes hazy with lust. Behind you, Lucius’s hands are already lifting your skirt, one you’d chosen specifically for Marcus this morning, knowing how much he loves you in pretty, feminine things.

But he had barely spared you a glance before he left with her, and now the thought of him feels distant, unimportant.

He lets out a low whistle, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your ass, admiring the sight of you bent over for him.

You shut your eyes, willing away any lingering thoughts of Marcus as his fingers trace the slick seam of your pussy before dipping inside, his touch confident and practiced.

“Look at yourself,” he commands, his free hand pressing firmly on the small of your back, arching you further. “Eyes on the mirror.”

Your lashes flutter as you meet your own reflection again. His fingers pick up their pace, his chest brushing against your back as he frees himself from his pants. Your breath catches when you feel the thick head of his cock glide through your folds, replacing his digits at your entrance.

You wag your hips playfully, earning a sharp smack to your ass, the sting blooming with heat, and it makes you giggle, the sound light and sultry.

“Are you always this giddy to get fucked?” Lucius teases, his tone dripping with amusement as he lines himself up.

“Only when it’s someone who knows what they’re doing.”

He laughs, a deep, wicked sound, before gripping your hip with one hand and guiding himself inside you with the other. The stretch is exquisite, stealing the air from your lungs as he sinks into you inch by inch, his girth filling you completely.

He’s not as thick or as large as Marcus, but the way he feels inside you is undeniably satisfying, and judging by the expert way he used his mouth, you’re eager to explore the rest of his talents.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, his head falling forward, his nose nuzzling into your hair. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

You cry out, eyes rolling to the back of your head, your fingers scrambling for purchase on the marbled counter as he starts to move with pure vehemence.

Every thrust sends a jolt of pleasure through you, his pace building until you’re nothing but a mess of moans and desperate gasps.

The sight of him fucking you from behind, his mouth agape, brows furrowed, has your pussy clenching around him. His strokes are deep and hard, each one making the edge of the countertop dig into the front your thighs, but you don’t care. It feels too damn good.

The universe has an impeccable way of fucking with you, and it does so spectacularly when your phone buzzes in your purse.

The ringtone you’ve assigned to Marcus echoes through the luxurious restroom, shattering the moment and flooding your veins with icy dread.

“L-Lucius, stop,” you whine, your voice betraying how little you actually mean it. His thrusts are hitting just the right spot, and you can barely think straight, let alone care about the consequences of missing Marcus’s call.

Lucius pauses, though not in the way you hoped—or feared. He slows, grinding himself against you, his length pressing deliciously into your g-spot.

Leaning over your bent form, he rummages through your purse until he retrieves the still-ringing phone. “Go ahead,” he holds the device out to you with a cocky grin. “Answer it. Wouldn’t want to upset the boss, now would we?”

You hesitate, staring at the phone like it’s a ticking bomb.

The position you’re in—physically and metaphorically—feels impossible to navigate. When the ringing threatens to stop, instinct gives way, and you snatch the phone from his hand and answer, pressing it to your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice is shaky, breathless, and you pray he doesn’t notice.

“Where the hell are you?” Marcus’s tone is sharp, tinged with irritation.

Your breath hitches. He’s back at the office? He said he’d be gone all day. Panic bubbles in your chest as Lucius’s hips roll lazily, burying himself deep inside you as if to prove a point, and you fight not to moan.

“I-I went out for lunch and to run a few errands,” you stammer, gripping the counter for dear life. In the mirror, Lucius’s smirk deepens. His hands slide up your body, cupping your breasts over your blouse as he pulls you upright against his chest.

He moves your hair aside and starts placing soft, teasing kisses along your neck, his facial hair grazing your skin and adding to the maddening sensations.

“How long are you going to be?”

“Not much longer,” you manage, biting your lip as Lucius’s fingers find your clit. “Do you… need something?” The slow, torturous circles make your knees buckle, and you have to mute the phone to let out a strangled moan.

“Yes,” Marcus replies, oblivious to your plight. “I need you back here. I ran into a client while I was out, and…”

Whatever else he says fades into static as Lucius speeds up his ministrations, his fingers and cock working in perfect harmony to unravel you. Your free hand flies to his wrist, a silent plea for mercy, but he just grins against your neck.

“Just let me finish this call,” you whisper, your voice desperate and pleading.

“No,” he growls through gritted teeth. “You’re going to come all over my dick while you’re on the phone with him.”

Before you can protest, he presses you back down against the counter, resuming the relentless rhythm that slips a film of haze over your vision. Your hand trembles as you unmute the call, your brain scrambling to form coherent words while Lucius fucks you like he owns you.

“...so get back here to pull the prints,” Marcus finishes.

“Okay,” you rasp, tightly holding the edge of the counter, the sound of skin meeting skin threatening to echo over the line. “I-I’ll be there soon.”

There’s a long pause, and your heart pounds in your chest, more from the overwhelming sensation between your legs than Marcus’s impending suspicion. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you blurt out, squeezing your eyes shut as his fingers press harder against your clit, tipping you dangerously close to the edge. “I—I have to go. I’ll see you at the office.”

Without waiting for a response, you hang up and toss the phone onto the counter.

Finally, you let go, your high pitched moans spilling freely as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clamp down around Lucius’s cock, and you throw your hips back to meet his thrusts, chasing every last bit of pleasure.

“Oh fuck me, I’m coming!” you cry out, your voice echoing through the restroom.

He groans, his hands gripping your hips as he delivers a few final, punishing thrusts. “There we go,” he practically purrs, satisfied.

He pulls out at the last second, stroking himself until his release coats the supple skin of your ass. He exhales sharply, a triumphant grin spreading across his face as he watches you shudder beneath him.

For a moment, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing. Then, he chuckles, stepping back to grab a few tissues. “You’re a fucking masterpiece,” he murmurs, gently cleaning you up.

You let out a weak laugh, your legs still trembling as you brace yourself against the counter. “That was way too close.”

He shrugs, tucking himself back into his pants and leaning against the sink, watching you fix your skirt and smooth your hair in the mirror. “I don’t really give a shit,” he replies, his tone so nonchalant it borders on arrogance.

“Yeah,” you give him a sidelong glance. “I figured as much.” You straighten your appearance, making sure to fix every little imperfection and evidence of what just transpired. 

“When can we do this again?”

You hadn’t thought this far ahead, too caught up in the heat of the moment to consider what might come next. His proposition is tempting, dangerously so, and you hesitate, weighing the risks.

Marcus is married after all, and while he’s never outright told you not to see anyone else (not that you wanted to, either), the possessiveness in the way he fucks you and how he treats you when it was just the two of you makes it clear he wouldn’t be thrilled. 

It’s not necessarily the smartest move to hookup with his stepson, considering the messy family history, but that’s really none of your business.

And the alternative? What, meeting some awkward Tinder match with a small cock who can’t get over his ex? No, thanks. You’d pick Lucius any day of the week. 

“You tell me,” you concede. What Marcus doesn’t know won’t kill him. “I don’t want Marcus to know about us. He’d pop his lid—and as fun as that would be for you, I don’t need that drama in my life right now.”

He reaches for you, his hand curling around your waist to pull you closer until you’re standing between his legs. His hands rest lightly on your hips, his thumbs brushing the fabric of your skirt. “It shouldn’t be any of his business who you fuck.”

You bite down on your tongue, gently pushing his hair back, running your fingers through the soft curls. “I know, but that man is complicated. You, of all people should know that.”

“Right,” he takes in your features, noting how beautiful you are, getting lost in your eyes. “Doesn’t matter much to me, but for you, we can keep this low-key.”

“I’d appreciate that,” you give him a small smile, leaning forward and brushing your lips softly against his in a kiss that lingers just long enough to make your pulse quicken again.

He grins boastfully as he pulls back, his thumb brushing against your jaw in a small, teasing motion. “Come on, I’ll take you back. We’ve probably hogged the washroom long enough.”

You nod, letting him guide you toward the door, though the weight of your choices lingers. For now, though, you push it all aside. One mess at a time.

Juggling these two men feels like a balancing act you’ve somehow mastered. Each fills a different part of your life, balancing out the deficiencies of the other like two halves of a very complicated equation.

Marcus is raw power, the kind of dominance that leaves your soul humming and your heart racing. He’s harsh, unapologetically entitled, and he takes what he wants with a certainty that has you willingly offering yourself up. 

You crave his intensity, the way he makes you feel like you’re teetering on the edge of something dangerously exhilarating.

Lucius, though, is the warmth you never knew you needed. He’s attentive in ways Marcus never could be, the type of lover you’d believed only existed in fiction.

He doesn’t just fuck you—he worships you, like you’re the only person in the world when he’s with you. He makes you laugh, makes you feel seen. He treats you like you’re the prize, not some stolen treasure.

And yet, you’re the one hiding him. He’s eager to show you off, to take you to lavish galas with his Ivy League crowd, or whisk you away to some foreign paradise.

But a stubborn part of you clings to Marcus, to the ridiculous fantasy that one day he might wake up and finally choose you.

That he’ll leave her and realize you were what he wanted all along.

It’s an illusion, of course. And you know it—especially when Marcus mentions that he and his wife are starting couples counseling.

His tone is so nonchalant. It’s like he doesn’t even register what that means for you. But you do. It’s a dagger to the heart, a confirmation of the insecurities that have been simmering on your side of the affair for as long as it’s been happening. 

The beginning of the end. If he’s putting in the effort to save his marriage, you’re the obvious sacrifice.

You tell yourself you don’t care. That it’s good he’s fixing things because it means you can finally walk away. 

That night, you cry—gut-wrenching sobs that wrack your body as you curl up on your couch.

The tears aren’t just for him. They’re for you, for the mess you let yourself fall into, for the heartbreak you practically handed to yourself on a silver platter.

You didn’t realize how much of yourself you’d given to him until it was too late.

In what world does the mistress ever get a happy ending?

Determined, you decide that your time together is up. For real this time.

The sessions with his wife have already put distance between you—less frequent rendezvous, fewer late-night texts. And when you are together, the connection feels fractured.

Sure, he still fucks you like he always has, still uses that ancient, sweet language that once made you feel special. 

But now, everything he does cuts like glass because you know it’s just an act, a hollow currency to keep you around, to keep you looking at him like he’s your moon and stars.

Tonight is supposed to be the last time. You’ve planned it out—how you’ll say it, how you’ll walk away. The usual hotel room feels like the right setting for closure, neutral and familiar enough to weather whatever fallout may come.

You arrive early, as always. The room is pristine, the bed’s crisp linens beckoning. But it’s the item sitting in the center that draws your attention.

A white box tied with a vibrant red bow, your name written elegantly on a card tucked into the ribbon.

Knew these would look divine on you the moment I saw them, my carissime. I haven’t been the most attentive lover as of late, and for that, I apologize. - M

Your heart stutters as you slip the bow free and open the box. Inside lies the most exquisite set of lingerie you’ve ever seen, delicate lace and fine silk in a shade that complements your skin tone perfectly.

It looks so luxurious, you’re almost afraid to touch it. Two smaller boxes rest alongside it. Curious, you open them to reveal earrings and a matching necklace, adorned with your favorite gemstones.

Damn him. He’s making this so hard. The rational part of you knows better, but the temptation is too strong.

What’s the harm in one final night of indulgence? One last chance to revel in his attention, to let him taste you and remember exactly what he’s losing?

You slip out of your clothes, carefully donning the lingerie. The way it hugs your curves, accentuating every dip and swell of your body, makes you feel like a goddess.

You glance at your heels from earlier, slipping them back on—they match perfectly, adding the final touch to your look.

A small, knowing smile graces your lips. If this is goodbye, you’ll make sure it’s a goodbye he’ll never forget.

The door clicks open, and Marcus steps inside, the heavy weight of his presence commanding the room.

He pauses, taking in the sight of you sprawled across the bed, legs kicking up lazily, your chin propped on your palm. The thin strap of your bra slips down your shoulder, revealing more than enough to stoke the embers of desire in his eyes.

His gaze rakes over you with the intensity of a predator. “Dulcissima…” he breathes, the word oozes like molasses, thick and sweet, curling in your ear and making you wet.

You tilt your head, giving him your best doe-eyed expression, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Hi, Marcus,” you sing-song, your tone sweet, teasing, knowing exactly what it does to him.

He steps closer, his eyes lingering on the curves accentuated by the expensive lingerie he gifted you. “I was right to assume you’d look fucking sexy in this,” he says, his voice lower now, his fingertips grazing up your spine.

The faint touch sends a delicious shiver across your skin. His eyes devour you, the glint of the necklace he’d bought you sparkling against your throat like a declaration of ownership.

You turn slowly onto your back, stretching out lazily like a kitten, letting him take in the full view, and he exhales sharply through his nose, his control visibly fraying.

His gaze dips to the way the bra pushes your breasts together, the soft curve of your stomach, the jewelry catching the light.

“Did you like your gifts?” he asks, leaning down to press his lips against your bare midriff.

The kiss is hot, possessive, and you can feel his breath ghosting over your skin. Your stomach flips under his touch.

“Mhm…” you hum softly, keeping your tone light and coy.

His kisses trail higher, his mouth brushing over the swell of your breasts, the faint scrape of his teeth and beard sending a tremor through your body. When he bites down gently, your shaky exhale gives you away, and he chuckles, pleased with himself.

“Good,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin. “Couldn’t let my favorite girl forget how much I care about her.”

The word “favorite” grates against something inside you, even as the heat of his mouth distracts you. You let him keep talking, let him spin his meaningless webs.

You know this will be the last time, but you’ll let him play his game a little longer—for now.

Your fingers slip into his salt and peppered hair, pulling him up to you. His lips crash against yours in a fiery kiss, all teeth and tongue, his need barely contained. Your hands slide down his shoulders, body arching against him.

His hands move below you, skillfully undoing the clasp of your bra, the fabric slipping down your arms—when a sudden, sharp knock at the door splits the air.

Both of you freeze. Your breath catches in your throat, and you pull back, looking at Marcus in confusion.

His expression mirrors yours, his brow furrowing in annoyance as he glances toward the door.

The knock comes again, louder this time, more insistent. Then, a voice—deep, familiar, furious.

“Open the door. I know you’re in there.” A pause, your name spoken with quiet venom. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Lucius.

Panic flares in your chest. Your stomach twists as the full weight of what’s about to happen sinks in. You scramble off the bed, your hands shaking as you grab your bra and hurriedly fasten it, your mind racing.

Marcus straightens, his countenance hardening as recognition dawns. His entire demeanor shifts, his shoulders squaring, his jaw tightening.

Everything is going to come to a head now, and you’re not ready for the chaos about to unfold. Marcus is seconds away from finding out about you and Lucius, Lucius uncovering your affair—and there’s no way to stop the inevitable collision.

He stalks to the door, throwing it open with a force that rattles the frame.

There stands Lucius, his expression a storm of anger and betrayal.

His sharp gaze cuts past Marcus immediately, landing on you. He matches the stance of the other man as he takes in the scene: your disheveled state, the lingerie, the necklace glinting on your chest.

“So it’s true.” He storms into the room, “I knew you were sleeping around. My mother did too—just not with who. I should have fucking known it was her.” His words strike like daggers. “It’s always the gold-digging, whorish assistant.”

The insult lands hard, but you refuse to flinch.

Marcus steps forward, spitting out his name. His lips curl into a snarl, his broad body taut with controlled aggression. “What is it that you want? And don’t bullshit me.”

Lucius doesn’t back down. “To see you fall.”

The room goes deadly quiet, the tension is a living thing now, crackling with the threat of violence. You stand frozen, both men squaring off like animals about to tear each other apart.

“Once my mother hears about this, she’s going to divorce you. She’ll take everything. The firm will be mine. She,” his gaze shifts to you, and it’s like being pierced with ice. “Will be mine.”

Marcus lets out a laugh—dark, guttural, dangerous.

“You are an entitled little shit,” the insult makes his disdain clear. “You think you can waltz in here, throw a tantrum, and get what you want? You think I give a damn about your threats?”

“I don’t need threats,” Lucius snaps. “I have the truth.”

“What truth?”

Lucius fucking smirks, stepping away from him and closer to you, rounding your body until he’s right behind you, his words melting into your skin. “She’s not just your dirty little secret. She’s been fucking me too.”

The words drop like a bomb, shattering the fragile facade of control in the room.

Marcus’s body stiffens, gaze snapping toward you with a look you can’t quite decipher—shock, anger, betrayal all dancing in his dark brown eyes.

“Is that true?” He demands, his eyes bore into you, demanding an answer.

Your throat goes dry, panic rising like an avalanche threatening to drown you. “Marcus, I—”

“It’s true,” Lucius interrupts, his tone triumphant and venomous, wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you flush against him. “She’s been playing both sides. Isn’t that right?” His lips trail over your neck, and you hate the way the throbbing at your pussy begins to pulse. “Tell him. Tell him how you’d come running to me every time he wasn’t enough for you. How you let me fuck you while he was on the phone.”

“That’s enough,” Marcus growls, stepping closer, his larger frame looming over the both of you. His anger is palpable, but there’s something else simmering beneath it—arousal.

Lucius laughs, the sound bitter and taunting. “What’s the matter, Acacius? Is the truth too much for you? Or is it the thought of this pussy creaming all over my cock that’s got you so worked up?”

His hand presses against you, his fingers teasing through the damp fabric of your panties, and a soft whimper escapes your lips despite yourself. You bite down on it too late, and Marcus’s gaze sharpens, locking onto you like a predator.

“She’s a liar,” Lucius continues, his voice a deadly purr. “And a cheat. Just like you.”

The accusation tantalizes a reaction out of Marcus, but he doesn’t take the bait. Instead, his eyes fall to where Lucius’s hand moves between your legs, then back to your face.

Slowly, deliberately, he steps closer until the barest inch separates the two of you.

“You’re dripping,” Lucius observes with a smirk, his tone triumphant. “She likes it when we talk to her like this.”

“I know she does,” Marcus replies, razor-sharp. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, his fingers digging just enough to make you gasp. “She always gets off on being called out for what she is—a filthy, nasty little slut.”

“Oh my god,” you breathe, the words slipping out unbidden as Lucius begins to circle your clit. Your head falls back against his shoulder, your body betraying you with every twitch and moan.

“No, darling,” Marcus commands, tightening his grip on your face and forcing you to meet his eyes. “Look at me. Keep those pretty eyes open.”

You blink up at him, your lashes damp with unshed tears of humiliation and need. His gaze is scorching, consuming every inch of your face.

“Why?” Marcus demands, his voice steady but deadly. “Why both of us? What’s in it for you?”

Your lips part, the truth clawing its way to the surface. “Because I can,” you finally admit, your voice trembling but defiant.

The confession hits the air like a spark to kindling. Marcus’s lips morph into a cold smirk, and Lucius lets out a low chuckle behind you.

“Say that again,” Marcus orders, leaning in until his forehead almost touches yours.

“I had two powerful men doing everything for me,” your admission is louder this time, emboldened by the heat of their attention. “Showering me with gifts, meals, and good cock. Why the fuck would I give that up?”

Marcus’s grip on your jaw shifting to trail down your throat, gripping it just enough to make your pulse race beneath his fingertips.

“You’re perfect, my carissime.” There’s this softness to his tone that surprises you, and it only amplifies the pleasure you feel as Lucius slips two fingers inside of you, your mouth falling open as you let out a breathy moan. “So beautiful.” He’s not furious—he’s consumed by the same fire threatening to burn all three of you alive.

“Tell us,” Lucius demands, his voice a smooth drawl as his digits curl just right, pressing onto the spongy, sensitive spot that makes your desire flare. “Tell us what you really want, or we’ll stop. Maybe leave you here all wet and needy.”

Marcus can feel the way you harshly swallow against his palm, brows twitching with amusement as he watches you intently, anticipating your answer. “I want both of you,” you confess. “I want you to ruin me, together.”

The air between you is laced with shared lust and hostility. Marcus shakes his head, a bitter, haughty laugh escaping him. “You really are a whore,” he says, his free hand gripping your chin again to force you to look at him. “And you’ll take whatever we give you. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” you whisper, the word a plea as Lucius withdraws his fingers only to bring them to your lips. He smirks when you part them willingly, sucking his fingers clean with a moan that makes Marcus’s eyes darken further.

“You’ve got her trained well,” He taunts, his gaze locking with Marcus’s over your shoulder.

“Enough talking,” Marcus snaps, his patience finally snapping, “Get her on the bed.”

Lucius doesn’t hesitate. He guides you backwards, sitting at the edge of the bed with you on his lap, undoing your bra and slipping it off your shoulders.

Your legs spread instinctively, your body already responding to the charged dominance of the two men using you.

Lucius’s lips claim yours in a kiss that’s as punishing as it is passionate. His hands roam freely over your body, kneading your breasts, pinching at your nipples while Marcus watches, his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned but still on.

He strokes himself slowly, his gaze fixed on the way Lucius toys with you.

When Lucius pulls back, a string of saliva connects your lips. He smirks, attention turning to Marcus. “She’s all yours. For now,” his tone drips with challenge.

Marcus steps forward, gripping your thighs. “Been thinking about tasting her all day. You’re not about to fuck that up for me.”

Then, with a confidence that makes your heart stutter, he drops to his fucking knees.

The motion is almost reverent, but the hunger in his eyes tells a different story. He hooks his fingers into the delicate lace of your panties, dragging them down your legs until they hang precariously from the sharp tip of your heels. His breath ghosts over your sticky, swollen folds, making your thighs quiver in anticipation.

“Fuck,” Marcus mutters under his breath, the words guttural, as if the sight alone is enough to wreck him. His mouth descends, and the moment his tongue laves over your folds, devouring you with reckless abandon, you cry out, your back arching instinctively against Lucius.

“Oh!” The exclamation is ripped from your throat, and Lucius grunts in response, his hands tugging at your sensitive nipples while his lips and teeth nip at your neck, leaving stinging kisses.

It’s overwhelming, the sensation of being worshipped and claimed by both of them.

The heat, the hands, the mouths—everything converges until you’re dizzy with pleasure. Your trembling fingers fumble behind you, reaching for Lucius’s pants, desperate for more.

It makes him chuckle low in your ear, the sound both amused and darkly approving.

“Impatient,” Lucius murmurs, helping you by undoing his pants and freeing his thick cock. You wrap your shaky hand around him, earning a hiss of pleasure as he hardens further under your touch.

Meanwhile, Marcus’s lips wrap around your fleshy pearl, sucking it into the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. His tongue flicks against the sensitive nub, your hips grinding against his face.

He doesn’t stop you—if anything, he encourages it, absolutely pussy drunk, groaning against your cunt as if your taste alone could sustain him.

Your juices smear across his lips and beard, the rough bristle of it adding another layer of sensation that makes your vision blur. The heat coils tighter in your core, your thighs trembling as Lucius’s cock twitches in your hand.

You have a devious idea. With a soft call of Marcus’s name, you draw his attention, your voice breathless and needy.

His dark eyes flick up to yours, his lips glistening with your slick. Without a word, you extend your hand, palm up, quirking a brow in silent request.

Marcus smirks, his smugness dripping with sinful intent, and spits into your hand. The obscene mixture of his saliva and your syrupy arousal pools in your palm, and you return to stroking Lucius’s cock with it. His sharp intake of breath tells you he appreciates the added slickness.

“Fuck,” Lucius curses, his hips jerking forward into your grip as your lips reconnect with his. Marcus, undeterred, dives back between your legs, his tongue and lips working in perfect rhythm.

The wet, lewd sounds of your hand on Lucius’s cock and Marcus devouring you echo through the room, an indecent symphony pushing you closer to the edge.

Your breaths grow ragged, your body taut like a bowstring. “I—I’m close,” you manage to stammer, your voice barely audible against Lucius’s mouth.

“Then come,” Marcus commands, his voice muffled against your heat but no less authoritative. “Come all over my tongue, darling. Take it.”

His teeth graze your clit just right, and the sharp sensation sends you careening over the edge. You scream his name, your body convulsing as your orgasm crashes over you, your release drenching Marcus’s face.

He doesn’t falter, drinking you greedily as though you’re the sweetest ambrosia. The fountain of fucking youth.

You collapse against Lucius, your body trembling and spent, but the men aren’t done with you. Not even close.

Marcus rises to his feet, his shirt already discarded, his chest heaving as he toes off his shoes and sheds the rest of his clothing. Lucius holds you close, his hands gentle as they trail over your skin, his lips pressing soft, almost tender kisses to your shoulder.

Then you’re maneuvered, heels taken off and bent over the edge of the bed.

Lucius scoots back just enough to rid himself of his remaining garments, his cock standing proud and throbbing as it brushes against your cheek. He cups your face, his thumb stroking your flushed skin as he guides the bulbous head to your lips.

Marcus leans down to kiss the back of your shoulder, his lips hot against your skin. “Show him what that pretty little mouth can do.”

You moan softly, your lips parting to take Lucius in. “I know exactly what she can do,” he says cockily, his voice dark with jealousy. “Don’t I, baby?”

Marcus growls from behind, envious, his large hands sliding over your ass, squeezing possessively as he lines himself up with your dripping, fluttering entrance.

You whimper, nodding weakly, but any response is cut off as Marcus thrusts forward, burying himself to the hilt in one unrelenting stroke.

You cry out, the stretch of him almost too much. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, his hands gripping your hips as he sets a punishing pace.

Lucius gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, holding you steady as he begins to rock his hips, driving himself deeper down your throat. “Goddamn,” he rasps, his face contorting in bliss.

The intensity of it all—the exhilarating roughness of Marcus inside you, the weight of Lucius on your tongue, the heat and dominance radiating from both of them—sends your mind spiraling.

Your body is a conduit for their pleasure, and the way they claim you, together, makes the ache in your core unbearable.

“She’s so fucking tight,” Marcus growls, his nails digging into your skin. “Even with two cocks, she could take more. Couldn’t you, carissima?”

Lucius pulls you back with his firm grip on your hair as he forces you to answer. “Y-Yes,” you stutter, tears pricking your eyes from the sheer intensity. “Both of you—however you want me.”

The words spark something feral in them both. Marcus spanks you hard, the sharp sting making you cry out, while Lucius smirks, his gaze burning with approval.

“She’s about to come again,” Marcus announces, his thrusts growing erratic. “I can feel it. Shit, I shouldn’t let her, but she looks so goddamn beautiful when she does.”

Lucius chuckles darkly, his hand stroking his cock as he watches you fall apart. “She really is something when she’s like this.”

Marcus’s hand cracks against your ass repeatedly in a rhythmic cadence, heightening the pressure building deep within you. Each spank forces a moan from your throat, your body yielding completely to him as he drives you closer to the edge.

When your orgasm hits, it’s shattering. Your muscles lock, trembling as you cry out his name, the intensity leaving you utterly spent. Your release coats Marcus’s thick cock, the mess dripping down between your thighs.

Lucius, ever the observer, watches with an almost languid fascination, his lips curling into a sly smirk.

He doesn’t try to reclaim your mouth, instead captivated by the way your features twist in pleasure.

The sounds leaving you are primal—animalistic—and you’re too far gone to care. Your body screams for respite, muscles quivering from the relentless pace Marcus set, but your desire eclipses your exhaustion.

You don’t want it to stop; you crave more, as if their touch is the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth.

Your pussy flutters around Marcus as if unwilling to let him go, and for a moment, he hesitates, groaning at the way you cling to him.

“Could die in your sweet cunt,” he sighs, pulling out reluctantly. His cock, glistening with your combined juices, twitches at the loss of your warmth. “But I want to see you bounce on his cock now. Go on—show me how well you can follow instructions.”

The command is firm and your body responds before your mind can catch up.

Lucius shifts back against the headboard, his expression one of lazy satisfaction as he pulls you onto his lap. His hands guide you with surprising gentleness, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your hips as your lips meet his.

The kiss is slow, a stark contrast to the brutal pace Marcus had set, but it’s no less intense.

You feel Lucius’s cock slide through your swollen and used folds, the head teasing your oversensitive entrance before he thrusts inside.

You gasp into his mouth, wincing at the overwhelming sensation, but the pleasure quickly drowns out the ache as you adjust to him.

“Lucius,” you whimper, your voice high and pleading as your hips begin to rock. The friction makes you shudder, your body melting against his as he matches your rhythm.

“Just like that,” he groans, his head falling back against the headboard. His praise is genuine, his tone dripping with admiration. “Fuck, you’re amazing. Keep going—ride me, baby.”

You obey, rolling your hips with increasing determination before bouncing on him, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room. You cling to him for support, your sweat slick tits pressing against his as he moves with you.

The bed dips, the shift pulling your attention away just as Marcus reappears, his towering figure imposing. His cock, messy with your release, bobs enticingly in front of you, making your mouth water. 

You don’t hesitate. Leaning forward, you press a teasing kiss to the base of his shaft before dragging your tongue up the length of him, from his heavy balls to the sensitive tip.

You repeat the action, savoring the salty taste of yourself on him before finally taking him into your mouth.

The room is a haze of sweat, lust, and the raw, carnal need radiating between the three of you.

Marcus curses above you as your mouth devours him, your lips dragging from his throbbing, veined shaft down to the soft weight of his balls.

You let your tongue explore, slurping and licking, his sparse pubic hairs tickling your cheeks.

“Shit,” he groans, his large hand resting at the back of your head, letting you work at your own pace. “You’re so good at this, you know that? Worshipping me like you’re fucking made for it.”

Your throat is hoarse from the cries you’ve let out and the sheer volume of cock you’ve taken, but you press on, sucking and tonguing at him.

Lucius’ nails dig into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks, leaving faint crescents in their wake as he thrusts upward into your drenched pussy, the force of his movements making your entire body jolt.

“Keep bouncing on it,” He spreads your ass cheeks wider, his fingers teasing your other hole, brushing lightly against the tight ring.

The sensation makes you gasp against Marcus, your pussy clenching hard around the cock inside of you.

Marcus lets out a low laugh, his thumb swiping over the sheen of sweat on your temple.

“You’ve been in this tight little ass before?” Lucius asks, his tone laced with curiosity and lust.

“Plenty of times,” Marcus replies smoothly, gripping your face to guide your mouth back onto him. “She takes it so well. Always does. Don’t you, dulcissima?”

You gurgle around his length, your throat convulsing as he pushes deep, cutting off your air supply.

The world starts to dim, stars dancing at the edges of your vision, but the dizzying combination of Marcus’s cock down your throat and Lucius’s relentless thrusts makes you shudder with pleasure.

Marcus finally releases you, pulling out with a slick pop, and a mess of saliva drips down your chin, your chest, mixing with the sweat already coating your skin.

You cough, your body trembling as you try to catch your breath, and when you look up, your face is a wreck—puffy lips, smeared makeup, eyes glassy.

“Please,” you manage to whisper, your voice broken but no less keen.

Marcus tilts your chin up, his thumb brushing your spit-slick lips. “So fucking dirty,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss you sloppily, uncaring of the mess between you.

His lips are selfish, his tongue curling against yours, his large hand cradling your face as if you’re his salacious treasure.

Lucius slows his thrusts, letting Marcus take over once he’s finished kissing you.

You’re pliant, boneless, too fucked-out to do anything but submit as Marcus positions himself behind you.

Your body is sandwiched between them, the heat of their skin against yours making your head swim. The room reeks of sex, their natural musk mingling with the sticky-sweet scent of your arousal.

“You got what you wanted, huh?” Lucius whispers against your ear, his lips brushing your neck.

“Both of us at the same time,” Marcus answers for you, his tone dripping with amusement as he strokes himself, the other hand spreading your ass.

His thumb circles your puckered hole, pressing just enough to make you moan.

“Fuck yes,” you pant, a smirk pulling at the corners of your swollen lips despite how utterly wrecked you feel.

The two men exchange a look—a silent agreement passing between them.

Marcus spits, the warm glob of saliva landing perfectly on your tight hole. His cock, wet with your earlier attention, glistens as he smears the spit across himself, preparing you.

“Relax,” Lucius coos, his hand brushing your hair back. His lips press against your jaw then the corner of your mouth. “Take it like you always do.”

Marcus pushes in slowly, the stretch almost unbearable, and your breath hitches, eyes rolling back as your body adjusts to the intrusion.

The sensation of being completely filled—Lucius’s cock buried in your pussy, Marcus’s girthy length breaching your ass—is overwhelming.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, your nails digging into Lucius’s shoulders as Marcus inches deeper, his pace agonizingly deliberate.

“Always so tight, and ready” Marcus growls, his voice thick with restraint.

Lucius lets out a low chuckle, his hands roaming your body, one moving to your breast to tweak a sensitive nipple. “She always is. And she loves it, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you cry out, your voice trembling, desperate. “I love it.”

They move in tandem, their cocks filling you, stretching you, driving you mad with pleasure as they fuck you mercilessly.

You’re lost in it all; the pain, the rhapsody, the sound of their grunts and groans mingling with your cries as your body is pushed to its limit.

It’s all a blur of sin. Both men push you closer and closer to the brink of oblivion.

Marcus drives into your ass, his fingers leaving bruises on the meat of your hips, while Lucius pistons upward from beneath you, his cock dragging against that sweet spot inside your pussy that makes your vision white out.

The thin barrier of flesh separating their cocks as they thrust into you sends jolts of ecstasy coursing through your body, your nerves raw and exposed.

You feel alive—every touch, every degrading word, every deserving thrust driving you closer to the precipice.

Their voices are a cacophony in your ears, their sharp remarks intertwining with your own ragged moans.

“Look at her,” Marcus sneers from behind you, his hand coming down in a sharp slap against your ass, forcing a yelp from your lips. “She’s fucking loving this. Such a filthy little thing, taking both our cocks like it’s the only thing she’s good for.”

You can’t form words, your head lolling between them as their bodies claim yours. Every stroke blurs the line between pain and pleasure, their belittling words fanning the flames in your gut.

“Slut,” Marcus taunts, his voice dripping with mockery as his hand slides up your back, pushing you further down against Lucius’s chest.

Lucius’s hand snakes between your legs, his fingers finding your swollen clit.

The added stimulation is too much. With a strangled cry, your final orgasm explodes through you, ripping a scream from your throat as you convulse around them.

“Fuck!” you shout, your voice cracking as your body arches and you reach blindly for the both of them to anchor yourself. “Marcus! Lucius!”

“That’s it, scream for us,” Marcus mocks, his voice rough as he continues pounding into your ass.

Lucius grips your waist, holding you flush against him, his teeth grazing your shoulder as he murmurs darkly, “Gonna fill this pussy up, and you’re not going to waste a single drop, you hear me?”

You nod weakly, your body limp against him as both men drive into you, their relentless rhythm dragging you through the haze of overstimulation.

“Poor girl is out of it,” Marcus taunts, slapping your sore ass again. “Come on, hang on a little longer.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the intensity of it all. It is almost too much, and for a fleeting moment, you consider tapping out. But the way their bodies command yours, the sound of their growls, and the sheer force of their presence keep you in the game.

Marcus’s breathing grows labored, his hands clutching your hips right above where Lucius is holding you as he thrusts into you wildly a few more times before he freezes, his cock pulsing deep inside you.

“Fucking. Take. It,” he snarls as his release floods your ass in hot, thick ribbons.

Your body twitches against Lucius’s as Marcus lets out a satisfied grunt, and he is the last to follow, as he forces you down onto his cock entirely, holding you there while he empties himself into your pussy. 

You’re spent, your body trembling and boneless as they finally slow, their brawny hands roaming over your skin as if soothing the raw, frenzied mess they’ve made of you.

The exhaustion finally catches up, an almost unbearable heaviness dragging at your limbs as Marcus and Lucius pull out of you.

You barely register their murmured words or the gentle way they clean you up, your body too drained to offer anything more than faint whimpers.

When your head hits the pillow, lying on your back beneath the linens, sleep claims you almost instantly, as though your body has surrendered entirely.

You don’t know how much time passes before you stir again. The room is still dark, save for the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains.

Everything is quiet—no voices, no sounds of movement— and you blink, fully groggy and disoriented.

Every inch of you is sore, your legs leaden, your pussy and ass throbbing with the aftermath of their brutal attentions. Shifting slightly, you wince, and the movement stirs a dull, lingering heat in your core.

“Carissime,” the familiar endearment pulls you fully from the fog of sleep, your heart skipping as you feel large hands seeking you out, pulling you into a broad chest that you recognize all too well.

“Marcus,” you croak, your throat burning with the effort, the rough sounds of earlier cries and screams still lingering in your vocal cords.

Your words devolve into a coughing fit, and Marcus shifts immediately, reaching over to flick on the lamp beside the bed.

Warm light floods part of the room, making you squint and illuminating his strong features, softened with concern as he hands you a glass of water he must have prepared.

“Drink.”

You gulp the water down greedily, the coolness soothing your parched throat. When the glass is empty, you lower it shakily, only for Marcus to take it from your hands and set it aside.

His hand slides to your back, stroking it in slow, deliberate circles.

“What…” you start, your thoughts tangled, unsure where to begin.

Marcus hushes you, tipping your chin up with his thumb and forefinger, his dark eyes boring into yours. “You made a mess of things, you know that, right?”

You can only stare at him, your lips parting in confusion as he holds your gaze captive.

“You know I don’t like sharing,” he continues, his voice deceptively gentle. “And you still went out and found some other dick to hop on... Not just with anyone, either, but with Lucius.” His lips curl into a wry smile, almost amused at the irony.

The mention of your other lover makes your heart race.

“My sweet girl,” Marcus goes on, stroking your thigh beneath the sheets with his free hand. “This is my fault, really. For not prioritizing you the way I should have.”

There’s a flicker of guilt in his expression, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears. “But it could never be that way. You know this. I told you from the start I’d never put you at the forefront. And I meant it.”

His words sting, soft though they are, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You don’t know where he’s leading this conversation, but it feels like he’s holding your heart right in the palm of his hand.

“I convinced the boy to keep our secret,” Marcus continues, his thumb brushing against your lower lip as he watches you intently. “But you’re too much of a temptation to keep around. I should fire you. Let you go.”

Your breath catches, panic surging momentarily until his hand moves higher, cupping your cheek.

“But I’m a selfish man that craves your cunt,” he admits, his lips curling in a predatory smirk. “Your mouth. Your body.”

His hand presses firmer against your thigh, as if to emphasize his claim, while his thumb continues its tantalizing stroke over your lip.

“So I’m—we’re—keeping you around,” Marcus declares, the weight of his decision settling heavily in the space between you.

You should feel insulted, degraded even. But instead, the ache between your legs throbs with want, remembering how he and Lucius took you apart.

“It’s the only way I can make this work without losing you. It’ll kill me to know you’ll roll around in bed with him, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make to keep seeing your beautiful face every day. To keep my share of the firm.”

So this is what it’s all about—it isn’t about love, it’s about men and their entitlement, their rivalry, their need to possess and control.

Marcus tilts his head, studying you as if waiting for your response. “That is, if you want it,” he adds. “I have no interest in keeping you here against your will.”

The opening is there—the chance to leave this mess behind. To reclaim some shred of dignity and walk away from the entanglement of lust and rivalry these men represent.

But then the delicious ache in your body pulls at you, reminding you of how good it felt to have both of them claim you, how intoxicating it is to be the center of their desire, their depravity.

You don’t ask about his wife or any of that other bullshit. Instead, your lips curve into a saccharine smile, and you nod, your voice steady despite the chaos in your mind.

“I want this,” you say simply.

Marcus’s eyes darken with satisfaction, his smirk growing as he cups your face and kisses you—messy and bruising, claiming you once more.

If you’re a bad person for choosing this, then so be it. Bad people always find their place, and yours is right here, tangled in their dangerous games.

[nightwngz]

thinking of being bounced on bruce wayne’s lap, or maybe even his knee…maybe while he’s in a meeting, or he’s up late in his office and won’t come to bed :((

— 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 !! ✰

bruce wayne 𝔁 female!reader

✶ | warnings. . . porn without plot, drabble smut. public sex (?), dirty talk, degradation (?), p in v. Maybe grammar and general English mistakes, I didn't correct this too much, sorry. ;(

✶ | language. . . english is not my first language and I tend to make mistakes, so I apologize in advance.

✶ | note. . . Very short. Sorry, I'm not very inspired these days.

From the beginning, you knew that Bruce Wayne was a man with little time. He was always busy, whether working, fighting crime, dealing with his children, or sleeping in the few moments he had left. To keep your relationship from falling apart, it seemed like a good idea to use that time to multi-task, even if it meant riding him while he worked.

Bruce had decided to hold his meetings at his place that day. It was going to be a boring and tedious morning of endless conversations with people from his own company — until you showed up and ruined everything.

You managed to divert his attention, forcing him to turn off the camera and microphone, just so you could sit on his lap and explain your discomfort. As he listened to your words, he began gently caressing the curve of your waist, inwardly wondering why you had interrupted him, knowing that you usually behaved well while he was working.

You had no idea how you ended up sitting on his lap, your back and ass bouncing in front of the camera that was turned off. You moaned into his ear as you felt his cock filling you.

"Couldn't wait until my meeting was over, could you?" he asked, and you just shook your head. "So needy for cock that you don't even care that there are employees from my same company talking there."

Despite your words, his hands clung to your hips and accompanied your every move. Your tight pussy fit perfectly on his cock from that position, and maybe that's why he let you take control.

Your breathing was ragged, feeling fuller than ever, longing for him to empty himself inside you. At the same time, you could hear the men from Bruce's company talking among themselves, and the possibility that they were close to discovering what was going on made you feel even tighter.

He leaned close to your ear and whispered, "It's a little hard to concentrate like this when I'm trying to work from home, dear. Although, I admit, I'd rather take care of you than all these employees and important people."

[hitomisuzuya]

Hellloooooooo😖

This is my first time sending a requestttttt-

Before I ask, I hope you're happy and doing greatttttt, I wish you have a great, wonderful, and lovely day tomorrow!! I wish you the best!! I love you and your workkkk, advanced happy birthday to my favorite writer🫶🫶🫶!!

I was wondering if you can do a Yandere Scaramouche with a fem reader where she got kidnapped by him, and when she woke up, he was about to tell her that struggling is useless because she's tied up- but was surprised that she didn't even struggle at all.

He thought that she's only trying to get his trust so that she can escape later on- but when he saw how she seems to reciprocate his actions, and even initiates them sometimes.. He eventually trusted her-

The rest is up to you-!!

(I hope I didn't yap too much😖😖😖

English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if my grammar is bad-.. T-T

And also, to be specific, please make it smut-

Feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like writing it<3!!

Again, I hope you're doing great, take care of yourself, love you, bye bye-!!🖤🖤🖤)

Yandere!Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut Kidnapping. Drugging. Bondage. Degradation. Praise. Creampie. Obsessive/possessive behavior.

Porn with plot this time. This might be a bit longer than I anticipated cause I wanna work on dialogue and detail. I enjoy writing Yanderes ❤️ Smut written while sick, so bear with me🥺

You are way too good for this world, and certainly way too good for the likes of Scaramouche. He knew this. However, this was for your own good. You are strong, but that's exactly why you needed him to protect you. He had to get to you before the unfortunate dregs of life broke you down. Sank it's claws into you, and broke you into a bunch of unfamiliar little pieces.

He more than had experience in the regard.

Scaramouche spent months preparing for this. What he didn't expect was what happened when you finally woke up. The confusion was evident in your eyes when they opened, blinking a few times to focus your vision.

"You are awake," His voice sounded like velvet in your ears, your gaze snapping to him, "Before you woke up, it was real treat for me, you know?" He walked over to the bed, "Getting to see what you look like all tied up for me," His fingers brushed one of your wrists, "Though I am starting to wonder if blue would look just as pretty on those delicate little wrists of yours."

It took a few moments for everything to catch up with you. Your breath hitched in your throat, a shy embarrassed blush that he often craved to see coated your cheeks, your eyes glancing up. Your wrists were tied together and to the headboard with purple ribbons of silk. "What's happening?" You asked a little weakly.

Scaramouche was surprised at the blush. He cleared his throat. "A valid question. I kidnapped you. You dropped like a brick after I drugged you. I may have used a bit more than I needed, but you haven't been sleeping well lately," He replied, matter of fact.

You sighed softly. "Okay," You nodded, adjusting yourself on the bed a little.

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. What was with you? What was up with that blush on your cheeks? Why were you being so calm? Why didn't you flinch away from the touch of someone who'd just drugged and kidnapped you?

Did he dare think you'd thought about being tied up for him?

"There is no use in struggling," He added, to which you only looked calm. He put his hand on your cheek, waiting for you to shriek and shy away from him.

Looking into his electric eyes always made your heart shake. "But, I'm not," His breath hitched in his throat as you turned your cheek into his hand.

"Yeah, you aren't. Now," You were no doubt trying to lure him into a false sense of security. That was usually the go to strategy for anyone who got kidnapped.

Perhaps he would keep you quiet with the few extra doses of sedatives for the first few days.

"Fine, leave me tied up for awhile. When you feel comfortable, untie me. I'll prove I won't run away," You said, giving him a soft smile that made him grit his teeth, "I promise."

Scaramouche flinched hearing the words I promise. So, he tested you. Boy did he test you. He would leave little traps to see if you would leave. He left the door unlocked. The windows open. He even left the damn door wide open. And yet when he returned, there you were, waiting for him.

Was this what love and loyalty looked like in another person? Did he finally understand what those things met?

The more he pushed his boundaries to see if you would break, the more you seemed to accept him. He got handsy and grabby with you, holding you down while he pressed lustful, harsh kisses to your lips. His teeth biting at your lower lip, his fingers brushing over all the intimate places he wanted to sink his teeth into.

Scaramouche was drowning both you and him in the obsessive passion he felt for you. And you accepted every bit of it. Even felt comforted by it. And when you said, "I want you to touch me. I want you," crawling to straddle his lap and nuzzling your cheek into his neck, every last bit of control he had shattered like glass.

"Say it," He hissed, his hand gripping the headboard tighter as he drove his cock into your sweet spot, "Tell me you want me while I make you cum on my cock, slut," He groaned, trembling as he felt your gummy walls clench on his cock.

If you could touch him, you would've. Your hands were tied above your head to the headboard, one wrist wrapped in purple silk, the other wrapped in blue (he couldn't make up his mind). "I want you, Scaramouche," You moaned, rocking your hips up to help push his cock deeper inside of you, "I want you so badly. I always have."

Fuck, your moans sounded so fucking sweet. It sent him reeling that someone like him could make someone like you, the purest thing in this world to him, moan so lewdly. Your weeping, abused pussy sucking his cock in. It was all so fucking addicting.

He drank in the sight of you, twitching and writhing underneath him, ribbons rubbing against your wrists from the force of his thrusts. Your eyes half lidded, and drool pooling from the corner of your mouth. Would you touch yourself if he untied you right here and now from how good he was making you feel? Your fingers skating over your clit, making your walls tighter on his cock?

There wasn't one intimate part of your body that didn't have dark, blossoming bruises of passion bitten into it. He'd had his fingers inside of you while he marked you up, feeling you soak his hand as he sucked and bite your skin.

"I fucking hope you know I am cumming inside," He growled, hovering his other hand over your throat. He didn't wrap his hand around it and squeeze. He just left it there to exert his dominance over you. Cum nearly spilled inside of you seeing how much it aroused you.

Seeing your eyes light up hearing that he planned to cum inside. The intimacy made your orgasm curl tighter. "Y-You promise?" You managed, moving your head back, and exposing your throat submissively to him for him to squeeze if he wanted.

Scaramouche couldn't hold back his moans anymore, especially not after that and so sweetly said. "Fuck, I'll pump you so fucking full. What a whore," He groaned. He would pump you so full like he imagined all those nights he jacked himself off to thoughts of you.

He knew he would never get enough of the shy, adoring blush that coated your cheeks when he degraded you.

"You are mine. All mine," His hand gripped your chin, forcing you to look at him as his cock pulsed inside of you. "Do you underneath me, slut? Or are you too fucked dumb?"

"I'm all yours, Scara. I always was," Your words were said with such tender truth to them. He couldn't detect one single hint of deception in your voice, even as your words broke apart into moans and whimpers.

You couldn't help it. You are in so love with him that it hurt. You'd just been too scared to tell him. Afraid of rejection. He could see it in your eyes. But, he understood that completely. "Shh, it's okay now, kitten," He started to babble, shuddering in pleasure as he pushed one of your knees up towards your chest, "I have you now. Everything will be okay. This horrible world won't ever hurt you," His hips snapped into yours with twice the vigor, "I'll see to that."

Only he alone could taint and corrupt you. Only he could break you down and put you back together as he saw fit. It was all the better for him that you accepted it without hesitation.

"You are close, fuck I can feel it," Your walls were squeezing so deliciously tight on his cock. He placed a rough, passionate kiss on your lips, devouring your mouth for a few long minutes. "And you are crying to," He pulled away, brushing the tears of pleasure falling from your eyes away with his thumb, "Cum on my cock like a good girl. You want me to cum inside, don't you?" He cooed.

You could barely manage a nod, crying out for him as your orgasm hit you. Your cum flooded around his cock, the feeling of your walls craving to milk his cock made cum pulse inside of you.

His fingers relentlessly rubbed your clit, further making you twitch and mewl in bliss as he fucked you through your climax.

"Good fucking girl," Scaramouche said, panting as he pulled out of you. Cum dripped out of your weeping hole. He didn't give you time to catch your breath, however. He was already working his way down between your legs to lick and suck your pussy clean.

[neil-gaiman]

Hi Neil,

I hope this doesn't get buried in the ask box, but if it does, I'll still be glad I sent this, just to know this little lengthy slice of complement and thanks existed in your inbox is enough. I apologize for the length, I am pretty sure the grammar is in tatters...and probably just the general awkwardness in advance.

Frist of all, congratulations for Good Omens Season2, it's a roaring success even here in this...I don't know, bottomless pit? I myself and some others fondly call it the PRC. The show didn't made pass the firewall officially, neither was Prime Video. People still managed to watch it eventually by VPNs, shared accounts and when times are desperate...sorry, piracy. Chinese fans, including myself, using every tool in the shed to try to fool Amazon™ and our goverment, just to watch this on Prime and try to help to manifest S3, is one hell of an experience. This kind of experience is pathetic, ridiculous....and somehow hilarious in a dark, gallows humor way, almost like some bad spy comedy, I just have to share it. Worth all the trouble by the way, the reward at the end of the back channel is...well, some divine comedy to say the very least. All in all, it's a brilliant show and a solid job well-done.

Then some of my personal gratitude. They say good art resonates with your soul, I now know this is just as true as matter and gravity. Since I know Good Omens certainly resonated with mine. I'll redact the typical "depression and anxiety reduced me to a husk, a shadow of my former self" story and get to the result for brevity's sake. I can't write anything meaningful while I know I took joy in writing, I can't finish reading anything longer than a brochure while I know I was such a bookworm in the past. Then I was compelled to get up in the middle of the night, wrote a full 5000 character long analysis after marathoned S2, and then write even more analyses in both Chinese and English. I picked up American Gods because I know I need more Neil Gaiman in my life and then impressed by myself for actually finishes it the second time 5 years later. I didn't know how exactly that happened through one watch of a TV show, but I know I am changed for the better. I grasped life again, and can start living again, somehow. The resonation just keeps on giving.

This is a quiet, gentle and romantic story, it is soothing, accepting, filled to the brim with love and kindness, and it makes me feel safe and accepted and loved in a way I never felt before. I thank you for it, and hope thart I may have the privlige to witness more of this miracle. Thank you Neil, Sir Terry Pratchett and the team for this miraculous book and this miraculous show.

谢谢。(I just had to say thanks with my mother tongue, it feels more earnest this way)

Thank you so much! I'm impressed by everything you and your countryfolk have gone through to watch it as legitimately as you could.

[nak4m8to]

Big Boss (18+)

corporate! au l rivals to lovers! l nsfw smut mdni!

summary : mingyu, a charismatic and ambitious executive, finds himself in a tense professional relationship with the reader. The reader, harboring a deep-seated dislike for mingyu, navigates the cutthroat corporate world with a determination to outshine him at every turn. As the two clash in boardroom meetings and compete for promotions, the ceo forces them to collaborate on a high-stakes project.

content : executive chef! mingyu, mixed! reader, mingyu being an asshole a lil bit + eavesdropper conversation SMUT! office sex, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (m. and f.) degradation , praise, bigdickmingyu!, filthy and messy ass sex, cocky! mingyu, jealous! mingyu, jealous! reader, seungkwan and yeri gossiping,

wc : 8,649 k ( damn)

an : finally out! hope you’ll like as much i liked write it. Let me know what you think ! sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language.Thank you for all the likes and the sweet comments <3

————————————————————————

One thing you specifically hate about him is how his smell lingered everywhere he went. The strong musky smell with the additional smell of his strong freshly pressed coffee. It was his signature fragrance. Every time, you smelled that strong coffee it reminded you of Mingyu. It might be one of the reasons of the loathe towards him, you can't get him out of you mind. This aversion, perhaps intensified by the constant reminder of him, was further fueled by the intense competition for the significant promotion your boss had put forward.

You also hate the way he was getting into your nerve every time he gets the chance too, it also felt you both have the same brilliant ideas in some of your projects. You hated his perfect face, the different moles on his face, you can even know where they are located. On his left cheek, on in his forehead and on his nose. His striking appearance in that perfectly tailored suit irked you. You hated how his long hair makes him look even better than he already is. You hated how small and intimidated you felt next to him even though you're not that small specially in those heels and how confident you are.

Although, he hated you too. He hated the sound of your heels clicking on the floor, he knows the sound of it better than the back of his hand. He hated the way your curls were surrounding your face, he hated the fact that you never came without your infamous lip combo, he might even know the products that you used, he think it's fenty ? hot chocolate something ? he hate the way you've smiled to every colleagues except him. He hated that you like to show off your body, either with those short skirt, long enough to be corporate appropriate but short enough to tease him, your glowy tan legs always makes you look ethereal or even when you wear those shoulder showing shirt.

Entering the new company building, you present your business card at the automatic gantries and exchange greetings with the receptionists. While waiting for the elevator, Mr Lee surprises you with a cheerful greeting, mentioning that the boss wants to see you for a presentation.

Entering the elevator and he press the button to level number six. "Really ? I hope he needs me to do it though it'll help for the promotion"  you said winking at him. You start checking yourself through the mirror just to make sure your hair is in place until you see a silhouette coming from afar. Tall, large shoulders, long hair. Fuck that asshole, you said you to yourself.

"I don't know how you manage with all these project without a burn out reader" Listening to Mr. Lee as the frustration build up, you focus on the elevator buttons, you press them repetitively, not wanting to be near that man.

"Me too, I don't know how I manage, I just like competing against Mr.Kim I guess" hearing the brown hair man chuckles next to you but your attention is fixed on avoiding Mingyu.

As the elevator doors close, you flash a fake smile at Mingyu, successfully leaving him behind." I can't bare him" "I think everyone can see that reader ... You know one day you'll need to cooperate with him for work" "hopefully this day is not coming soon" You sighed while checking your e-mails in your phone. The small ding of the elevator makes your head to look up and the door opens. "After you Mrs. Reader" said Mr.Lee letting go out first."Thank your Mr.Lee" smiling at him. While walking towards your office, you felt eyes burning  in your back, mostly your ass. Let's said that the dress you wore gave you justice. Did Mr. Lee let you pass so he can stare at your ass ? Did he ? He didn't right ?

Installing your bag in chair, you send a greeting to Seungkwan, sitting across of the open space, busy talking business with a client on the phone. "Hey! Ready to start the day ?" Yeri said to you "Girl have you seen the bags under my eyes ?" you give her a dead plan face expressing how tired you are but you can't show it to your superiors like Mr. Lee or even worse to your boss otherwise they would stop handing you important cases for the company due to the lack of sleep. Securing the promotion is essential to give recognition and reward sacrifices you've made so far, you deserve to be paid well. And bonus, Mr.Kim will not be your supervisor anymore. Well technically, he's still be your supervisor but he will not have that much authority anymore. Yeri start to rub her hand in your back to soothe the soreness due to the stress that your body endured. You start to printed out an important file that you supposed to handle to Mr.Jeon later so he can complete the remaining task by himself. Sighing in front of the computer, not prepared of what is waiting for you to be done at the end of the day

After a few hours, you finally get up and take the file with you. "Good luck reader ! You got it, Mr.Jeon will love your work anyway you're brilliant!" Seungkwan said trying to reassure you. "Thanks but he's kind of having that scary aura though" you said rubbing your neck trying to calm the anxiety down. "He does but you just need to seduce him a little a bit" Yeri winking at you making you laugh and relax a bit "I heard that he's a boob guy either way you have your chance, show a bit of cleavage and voilà" Seungkwan exaggerated the cleavage motion making you giggle even more, as you playfully hit his shoulder with the file. "You are both insufferable" "Perhaps we are, but you look less stress now"

You knocks firmly at the door, you hear a small "Enter", you pushed the door. Mr.Jeon smiled faintly at you as you enter his office. Always with his infamous specs resting on his nose. Someone already occupying the chair across from him, even from behind you recognized who is it. "Hello Mr.Jeon, here is what I found" handing the file to Mr. Jeon, who is seated at his desk."Thanks Reader, I'll try my best to continue what you've done""And me ? I don't deserve a hello ? after what you've done earlier" You meet his brown-eyed gaze, the intensity of it makes your thighs clench involuntarily. He sits in front of you, manspreading, his face propped up by his hand. As you observe him, the urge to wipe that irritating smirk off his face intensifies, especially with that damn suit. Surprisingly, you realize you might have a thing for men in suits, you didn't know that it was possible to have one. "What did I do? I don't recall anything " one of your eyebrows raised. He shift in his seat ready to answer you but Mr.Jeon interrupted him before its start to get hectic."Thank you again for working with me reader" "No problem, see you later" and you exit without giving a chance to Mingyu to reply. His tongue glides over his lips "Feisty" Wonwoo gazing on the file that you handed him. " I like em' like that"

Lunch time finally arrived, you rise, stretching your arms while waiting for Yeri to conclude her call. "Damn, that client didn't want me to finish with her" "Yeah I've heard that, let's go grab some lunch I'm starving, Seungkwan will join us"

Grabbing food in the restaurant's company, you ate your lunch while Yeri is talking about how she found the new recruit cute. You don't really recall his name. "Reader ! He's here oh my god look at him ! how the shirt hugs his arms" whisper-shouted, pointing at a tall, blond man with a mullet. Mr. Lee was showing him around. "He seems really cute, what's his name again?"

"Chan, you don't listen when I talk, right?" "Not everything, not gonna lie" "Something must be occupying your mind ? What is it ? Did Mr Jeon didn't like your work ?" "No, he didn't say anything about it" Little did you know that a pair of ears were eavesdropping your conversation with your favorite colleague. "You remember the guy that I met at the bar the other night ?" "Yeah, what about him" "He's cute but he was awful in bed" "Damn you have no chance at all" "The only way to make me feel better after those agitating weeks is literally having sex, and even that I can't have it" "I'll help you to find another guy that will make you cum I promise" putting her hands on your naked shoulder. "I can't even trust you anymore, do you know how long I didn't fucking cum ?!" whispering-shouting in your turn. Mingyu couldn't believe what he was hearing, you were mainly acting like a bitch towards him, particularly these last weeks, because you hadn't cum ?!

He felt betrayed and pleased simultaneously—betrayed because other guys had the chance to feel your skin under their touch and pleased due to the fact that you didn't get any pleasure from it. A demonic smirk adorned his face, he left the place not wanting to know more about it.

"Gossip of the day girls !" Yeri and you turn your heads in sync after hearing seungkwan's voice. "Well, one concerns you, reader. Why didn't you tell us that you closed the elevator's door in front of Mr Kim's face this morning ?!" "Reader ? Seriously?" Yeri uttered. "I was already pissed from that terrible weekend, I didn't want to interact him that early! I didn't know that Mr Lee is a snitch though!" "I think half of the people that work here kinda know that" "What's the second gossip of the day?" "The new hot guy will work with us" "No fucking way !" Yeri squealed like a teenager girl. "We were literally talking about him" "Yeri you better fuck him by the end of the year" "Don't listen to him, it'll be weird in the office if you guys have sex. Don't mix business and pleasure"

"Reader, you're boring ! We want drama! We want thrill in our life !" "Hey, look at that girl twirling her hair while talking to Mr. Kim." Your eyes follow the scene in front of you, capturing the interaction. The blonde girl is giggling at whatever Mingyu whispers in her ear, her laughter echoing in the air. One of her hands confidently grabs his biceps, creating an intimate connection that sends a pang of jealousy creeping into your chest when your eyes lock with Mingyu's. The atmosphere is charged with unspoken dynamics, and you notice the subtle shifts in body language between them. Mingyu's charismatic smile, the girl's playful gestures "I bet that joke wasn't that funny," Seungkwan remarks, rolling his eyes, sensing the tension in the air.

Adjusting your smudged lipgloss after the meal, you receive a message from your boss, Mr. Choi, instructing you to visit his office in fifteen minutes. Is this related to what Mr. Lee mentioned earlier this morning? "Guys, Boss wants me in his office. We'll catch up later for a break?" "Yeah! Good luck, reader! Think about the promotion." "I will."

The echo of your boots against the carpet prompts a smirk from Mingyu, signaling his awareness of your presence. Spotting him waiting for the elevator, you find yourself doing the same, unable to resist staring at how his suit accentuates his broad back. Catching a whiff of his distinctive scent, you unconsciously bite your lip, even with a layer of lip gloss applied.

As the elevator dings, coworkers exit with polite smiles, and you and Mingyu exchange nods with them. Inside the elevator, a subtle nervousness creeps in with him standing so close. Your fingers hover over the button for the ninth floor when you feel his rugged fingers brush against yours, both selecting the same floor. Startled, you withdraw your hand and fix your gaze on the closing doors, trying to feel indifferent to this sudden contact.

He breaks the silence, saying, "You know, there's no need to keep such a distance. I don't bite unless it's asked." "Don't worry, I just prefer to maintain a certain distance from you" responding to him while trying to distract yourself with your rings wrapped around your fingers. He start to shamelessly checking you out, causing your body to heat you. His eyes couldn't resist to your exposed back shoulder and neck. His weakness was really how that dress tightly embraced your hips and accentuated your ass. He start to think what you'd look like bent over on his office's desk with the lower part of the dress bunched up in your waist and the upper part exposing completely your tits. His thoughts were lost on what if you are wearing a bra underneath this god damn dress. You mentally cursed yourself why did you wore that thick dress, but you really like how you looked with it . The material was not appropriate for a Mingyu situation.

Ding, the door finally open and you unconsciously released the breath that you've been holding and star to lead the walk. Confused you still feel him following you, is he not going somewhere else ? Halting just outside Mr. Choi's door, you abruptly turn to find his equally puzzled expression. "Why are you following me?" "I could ask you the same. I have a crucial meeting with Seungcheol; he informed me about a last-minute project. I don't think you'll be needed, reader," he says in a manner that implies only a supervisor can handle such situations, making you feel inferior.   

"Mr Kim, could you stop being so full of yourself for once?" The door unexpectedly swung open, surprising you both, revealing a blond concerned Mr. Choi. Did he died his hair ? Well, he looks hot blond. "I was waiting for your arrival. Enter; we don't have much time." You both approach his office, and he guides you to sit on the chairs across his desk while he takes his place.

"So, I've gathered both of you because I have a last-minute meeting in 3 days with SM Inc." "I thought it was planned for next month." "They advanced it." Mingyu's muttered curse makes me realize the severity of the situation. "Jeonghan is already handling a mission in Japan, and I have to go help him because he's facing difficulties. That's why I'm asking you, Mingyu. You're a good negotiator and a wise man," Mr. Choi says, looking at him. "And Reader, in just a few months, you've proven to the whole company how much you can do. You're my best asset, and you can come up with good arguments."

"But Mr. Choi, I can't even think of one argument right now. I'm not suggesting you to reconsider someone else, but Mr Kim and I have two distinct ways to work, so-" "I already know that. That's why I'm asking both of you to do it." You feel cornered because it's a critical issue and mostly because you need to cooperate with the asshole next to you.

Fingers running through his hair, Mingyu is thinking how he can complete a month's work in just 3 days. "We will offer them to take 12% of our shares, no more or less, and try to come up with good arguments." You start biting your lips out of nervousness. "Put your differences aside and work together for the company's future."

"I can work with her, but I don't think she can. She's quite temperamental," Mingyu says, turning his head towards you. Your eyes shoot daggers at him. "What do you mean by that, Mr. Kim? Are you implying that women cannot control their emotions?" As you size him up "I'm not saying women, I'm just saying you. Don't generalize it." "Hey, calm down, you two! This is crucial!" Wanting to roll your eyes, you resist the urge due to the fact that you have too much respect for your boss.

"If it helps, the one with the best arguments will be promoted." "I'm on it then." "Same!" "That's the spirit!" your boss claps his hands together. "But you're on the same team, okay? Don't make it too personal."  Someone enters the office without knocking. "So, you've told them?" You turn your head to the man with short blond hair who just came through the door. What’s up about them with dyed blond hair ? Start to question yourself. "Yeah, I think they're both ready to work on it." The blonde man smirks at you, sensing his gaze. He approaches, takes your hands, and presses his soft lips on them. "I don't recall meeting you before. I'm Kwon Soonyoung, but you can call me Hoshi." Startled by his persona, you mutter a small "nice to meet you" out of respect. The dark-haired man on your side felt a pang of jealousy. More of possessiveness, why those men throw themselves at you. You're supposed to be exclusively his and only his he wondered.

"If you have more questions, ask Hoshi; he knows SM.Inc quite a lot." "Seriously, I should trust him," says Mingyu with an unserious smile on his face. "For that case, I think you should." "That pretty much it, thank you for your implication on it"

Rising from your chair and quitting Mr. Choi's office, Mingyu follows your every move. Suddenly, his calloused hands grab your wrist, and he instructs, "Reader, meet me in my office in 20 minutes." Instinctively pulling your arm away, you assert, "Firstly, don't grab me like that, and don't even think about putting your hands on me. Secondly, why in your office? I can work in my own and send you the arguments I've gathered." His hands release your wrist, and he explains, "Seungcheol mentioned that we need to collaborate, and we'll finish more early if two brains work together. Besides, my office offers the privacy and calm." He said implying the loudness of your open space with your noisy colleagues. You sigh, acknowledging the truth in his words but choosing not to admit it due to your pride. "Well, I need to call my client, inform her that Yeri will handle her mission alone, and I need coffee." Mingyu raises an eyebrow, "So thirty minutes will be enough?" suggesting the time required for your meeting. "I think so." "Now, if you excuse me," he passes closely by you, his body brushing against yours. Stunned, you can't help but flutter your eyes, too surprised to respond. "I thought you two were about to rip each other's throats out," Hoshi comments, accompanying you to the elevator. "I almost did." As the elevator doors close in front of Hoshi's and your face, you see Mingyu smirking, muttering, "Now we're even."

"No fucking way!" Yeri exclaims in shock as you deliver the news to her. "That mean I have to withdraw from the other case that we started, sorry" you said to her filling a bit upset. "Don't be sorry ! I'm more shocked that you will be working with Mr Kim!" "Who's working with who ?!" Seungkwan chimes in abruptly sipping his iced coffee. "Reader and Mingyu have a last-minute project that Mr Choi handled them, the presentation will be given in 3 days" "And now I have to meet him in 15minutes" you checked your phone " Wait, wait, wait" Seungkwan interrupts, making you both stop " So you're telling me that you'll be in the same room as Mr Kim by yourselves for the next 4 hours ?!" "Yeah, why ?" "Someone will be dead tonight" "Either him or her"  "Or something else could happen"

You finish your call with your client, grabbing your laptop as you leave. "Please do not kill him; he's too hot to die young," Yeri jokes. "Like I care." "She seriously hates him." You confidently stride to his office, knocking on the door before entering. It feels like your first time stepping into his cold office, adorned with a small, expensive brown couch and a coffee table that looks as pricey as your rent. The closed blinds provide a cozy atmosphere, you can see throughout the blinds the beautiful view of the city from the windows. But it can't beat the view that you had of him. His attention is absorbed by the computer and scattered papers on his desk.

"I thought you'd never come," he remarks. "Well, here I am." His scrutinizing gaze lingers on your body unintentionally. "Here, come sit." Mingyu gestures towards a comfortable chair across from him, creating a necessary distance. You don't think you can focus with his buff body beside you. Seated, you open your laptop, both of you diving into your tasks, surprisingly the silence was comfortable and not a single moment of awkwardness happened. Focused on the critical situation and driven by competitiveness for the upcoming promotion, you find yourselves working together more smoothly than anticipated. As you can hear him shift on his chair. You glance in your rearview mirror, catching Mingyu as he takes off his suit jacket. Unable to resist, your eyes fixate on the muscles bulging beneath his shirt, particularly his pectoral muscles straining against the fabric. The desire to feel those muscles under your nails intensifies, and your mind starts to wonder about how he could manhandle you. Mingyu senses the intensity of your gaze, creating an unspoken tension in the air. "You like the view" Startled by his question "You really have a nice view of the city" avoiding the real question.

He smirks, nodding at your reply, and decides to tease you further. "If you ever need help with anything else, feel free to ask," referring to the overheard conversation from noon. Oblivious to the context, you assert, "I don't think I'm struggling with anything right now." Unaware that he's alluding to your earlier discussion about difficulties reaching climax with your partners.

Ding, your phone buzzes with a message. "Is it from the guy who couldn't make you cum?" Mingyu remarks, causing warmth to spread across your face and deep within your torso. Feeling humiliated, you scold him, "Where did you hear that?" With a nonchalant tone "You have to be careful about those discussions in the office, it's not really appropriate" "You’re quite a pervert to listen to women's discussions" Not knowing what to response to him. Uncomfortable with his prying, you open your phone to check Hoshi's message, attempting to avoid Mingyu's gaze.

Rising from his chair, Mingyu walk towards you, positioning himself in front of you. He locks your gaze with his, one hand securing the armrest of your chair and the other under your jaw. His touch feels warm, and you can't help but bite your lips as his whispered words about helping you echo in your ears. "I was not joking when I said I could help you with that" While Mingyu was thinking how you look with your mouth stuffed with his heavy cock, with your puffy, glossed lips surrounding his dick. You resist moaning by biting down harder on your lower lip. Attempting to excuse yourself to retrieve the file with Hoshi, you start to get up, but Mingyu's body remains an obstacle. His hand settles on the lower part of your back, making your knees weak. You feel the heat rising from your hands resting on his pecs, eyes still locked. However you can't help to feel something heavy poking on your lower tummy due to how squished your body's on him, fuck he's big big. "I really need to go," you plead, meeting his eyes, and he relents, allowing you to escape his touch. "You can't avoid it forever, Mrs. Reader," he warns, and you promise to return."I'll be back"As you leave, the rhythmic pulsing in your head makes you feel foolish. Surrendering to him so easily leaves you unsettled. You know just with this contact, you feel your thong dampened.

"Hey, Reader, here's the file that could help you for SM. Inc. Wow, you look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay?" "Just a little bit stressed." "Come take a break with us." You sit yourself next to Mr. Lee, who was discussing with Hoshi before you came. "I would make you a coffee; you'll feel better," says Hoshi. "Is working with Mingyu really that bad?" Your voice sounds tired. "He's quite special, let's say it like that." Hoshi is back, giving you an espresso, which you kindly accept. You sip it while Hoshi explains what will be beneficial for SM to take part of your action. As you take a look at the folder in front of you, Mingyu enters the same room as you. "Do you need me already, Mr. Kim?" All heads turn toward him. Even other coworkers in the open space are looking at him; well, some of them are devouring his veiny arms exposed by his folded shirt's sleeve. Some of them, including you, of course. "You said you would pick up the file, not discuss with Hoshi," his eyes are going back and forth between you and his colleagues. You felt everyone's eyes trying to follow the discussion between him and you. "Well, I have it, but he was just advising me." "I thought you didn't need any help," implicitly talking about your previous conversation with him, but nobody knew what you were talking about. Then the same blonde woman from lunch came and asked, "Mr. Kim, do you need my help? I think I'll be a better help than Mrs. Reader." started to provoking you, the only reaction you gave her was rolling your eyes. However, she was almost about to grab his arm that you get up, and you do it instead, which makes Mingyu look surprised about your sudden reaction. Are you jealous? "I think Mr. Choi insisted that only Mr. Kim and I are required in this project, but thank you for your kind offer." You smile fakely at her and drag Mingyu into the quiet corridors. Hoshi and Dokyeom start to look at each other, thinking if this scene really happened in front of them.

"That was... something," Hoshi comments as you and Mingyu leave the room. "I think 'something' is quite the word to describe what happened in front of us." said Dokyeom to his colleague.

The two of you walk down the quiet corridor away from prying eyes. "What was that about?" you ask Mingyu, curiosity and a touch of irritation in your tone. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replies with an innocent look, though his eyes betray a hint of mischief. "Oh, please. The little show you just put on in there," you retort, not buying into his act. "You seem a bit... possessive," he smirks, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. "Don't flatter yourself. I just don't appreciate unnecessary distractions." Rolling your eyes, you continue down the corridor, leaving Mingyu to follow your lead. The tension between you two hangs in the air, a silent agreement that this project is going to be far from ordinary. Before you even enters his office, his hands pinned you against the wall of the hallway. Both of his hands on attached to your hips. "What the-" You didn't even finish your sentences that he smashed his lips into your glossy one. You can't help feel shocked

As Mingyu's lips press against yours, you're momentarily stunned, caught off guard by the unexpected intensity of the kiss. His actions are bold, and you find yourself torn between pushing him away and succumbing to the surprising rush of sensations. The hallway, usually a space of quick transits and business-like exchanges, transforms into a inappropriate scene

His hands, which initially held you firmly, start to explore the curves of your body, sending shivers down your spine. One of them groping your ass firmly making you unconsciously moan into his lips . While the other one is firmly cupping your jaw. Your initial shock evolves into a mixture of confusion and something else—a strange, electrifying connection. Both of your hands are secured in shoulder too stunned to used them. His lips start to tingle due the lipgloss you applied earlier.

Just as quickly as it began, Mingyu pulls away, leaving you breathless and disoriented. His eyes, dark and intense, lock onto yours, and the unspoken tension lingers in the air. "What the hell was that?" you manage to stammer, trying to regain your composure.

Mingyu, usually so confident and composed, appears somewhat disheveled. A flicker of uncertainty passes through his eyes, but it's quickly replaced by his signature smirk. "Consider it a reminder, Reader. We may have to work together, but it doesn't mean I'll play nice."

Before you can respond, he steps back, leaving you against the wall, heart pounding. The quiet corridor bears witness to the unexpected encounter, and as Mingyu heads into his office, you're left grappling with a mixture of emotions, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and irritation.

You try to pluck up one's courage and enter his office, locking the door behind you, which makes his head lift with a perplexed look. Determination fuels your steps as you stride towards him, reaching out to grab him by his tie. The air in the room thickens with tension as your eyes lock onto his, silently daring him to react. As you close the distance between you two and share a heated kiss. The taste of lingering coffee and the electrifying chemistry between you both intensify the moment. The world outside that office seems to fade away as the kiss deepens, blurring the lines between rivalry and desire.

The other hand gripping the back of his neck, wanting to feel the texture of his hair. Mingyu picks you up easily as you legs secure themself around his waist. Both of his hands are grasping your asscheeks. "I hate you so much" you mutters on his lips. He chuckled making your pussy clench on nothing. "Well if you came here kissing me then you want my help do you?". You nods at his words which he didn't like it. "Use your words and tell me what you really want" Your nails are grazing the skin of the back of his neck making him shivers. "I want you to make me me cum" you said still looking at his eyes, and the corners of his lips curl into a smug smile. "You hate me so much, yet you desire me," he remarks, his hands sliding down your back, sending shivers down your spine. He puts you down on his papers scattered desks. "Why should I help you?" he teases, pulling away slightly, but your grip on his hair tightens. The scent of his cologne envelops you, adding to the intoxicating mix.

"Because," you breathe, your voice laced with frustration and need, "I can't stand the thought of you being the reason I'm left unsatisfied." Mingyu smirks, his fingers tracing teasing patterns on your waist. "You're quite the complex woman, Reader," he says, his lips dangerously close to yours. Felling his hot breath in your neck, with how close he is. "But if that's what you want, I'll make you beg for it."

Mingyu's hands trail along the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders, sending shivers down your spine. His lips find their way to your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses til you right shoulder, that ignite a fire within you. Your hands tangle in his hair as you guide him,your mind conflicted between hatred and the throbbing need pulsating between your legs. The fabric of your off-shoulder dress becomes a tantalizing barrier, amplifying the heat between you.

The tension in the room intensifies as desire and rivalry intertwine, creating a palpable atmosphere. As he slowly guides the top of your dress under your tits. "No bra ? You're such a tease" You didn't had time to answer him that his hot mouth engulfed your brown aerola making you moan while his other hand firmly played with your other tit. What a view you thought to yourself, Mingyu sucking at your tits was not in your bingo card. "Most of beautiful tits I have ever seen"

Mingyu's hands, strong and demanding, explore the contours of your tits with a familiarity that surprises you. The cool surface of his desk meets your back as he lays down you effortlessly, the contrast of the polished wood against your heated skin sending a shiver through your body. His teeth grazing your nipple makes you elicits a moan, and you instinctively tighten your grip behind his neck. "Mr Kim ... please don't leave any trace." Mingyu smirks, his eyes locked onto your pleading expression. "Well, You're mine now," he asserts, pulling away from your chest to capture your lips. As his hands work to gather the fabric of your long dress around your thighs, you respond with a sigh on his lips. Attempting to assert dominance, you bite his lip, only to succumb to the overpowering sensation of his hot tongue invading your mouth. Wanting to feel him more, you spread your thighs to let him a place between them. Allow your hands to glide along his back and powerful biceps. You can't help to whimper feeling his muscles twitch under your touch. The soft hum of approval escapes his lips, when you start to rub your hands to his semi-hard. You can't help try to size up how big he is.

He grap both your wrist and pinned them down on his desk. He breaks the kiss, observing your curly hair framing your face, your eyes lost in pleasure.

He turns your around, placing you on your stomach, as your tits pressed against the desk. At this moment, he couldn't care less about the paper. The sight you present him with your ass makes his tongue glide along his lips with hunger. Flipping your dress to your waist, he's gifted with your round ass, the only barrier being your wet thong hiding your pussy. Feeling his cock growing even harder. He wish he could take a picture of how docile and how you offer yourself to him.

Cocking an arrogant grin, Mingyu leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Now, that's a delightful view, don't you think?" His hands slide sensually over your ass, teasingly grazing the edges of your thong. "I could have everything I want right now, but I enjoy seeing you squirm." You clench your fists, frustration and desire intertwining. "Don't push your luck, Mingyu."

He chuckles, the sound low and provocative. "Oh,  now it's Mingyu ?" He smooths his palm on you ass and spank you just right after. Your body flinched after the impact with a whine leaving your lips. "I plan to push it as far as it can go. But for now, let's focus on what you asked for, shall we?"  His fingers played with your thong as he takes it off slowly still teasing you. "I like it when you say my name" He started to caress you everywhere except your pussy, you can't help to squirm to show your frustration.

“If you want me to help you, you'll have to ask nicely," he murmurs, a devilish glint in his eyes. You can't help yourself to surrender to him, “Mingyu touch me” Pang his palm hit you ass makes you want to cry but deep down you loved  the way he treated you and he knew that just by the way your pussy's lips are puffy and how your hole keep producing more wetness. He knew that you were completely aroused about this situation so was he. His hard on start to feel more painful as he continues to playfully provoke you, he takes pleasure in observing your reactions to his every move. “I said ask nicely, slut” He can even see how your hole clenched around nothing. “Please Mingyu, touch me with your fingers” You begged him desperately wanting his thick fingers inside you. “That's how you’re supposed to beg slut” One of his finger enter your pulsating walls as you twitch from the intrusion. “Who would've thought, you bend over on my desk begging me to fingering you. Everyone thought you hated me but in fact is quite the opposite. You’re just an attention whore” as Mingyu pronounces those degrading works, your velvety walls clamped even more on his fingers.  “Please Mingyu- more” moaning desiring more. Fuck he can't say no to you and inserted one more fingers making you whimper again. Mingyu being drunk on your moans start to rub his confined dick to your ass. More he added fingers the more you clench on it. “Let me prep you for my cock” He picked up the pace and start to massage hastily your walls creating a mess on his hand, leaking on the carpet of his office. “Fuck I'm about to cum”.

He retract his finger rapidly not wanting to climax now “Mingyu are fucking serious I was about to -“ He cut you off by plopping you on your back. Pushed his drench fingers by your nectar in your mouth tasting yourself. The sight that Mingyu had of you almost made him cum, your hazed eyes, your tits out and your pussy drenched. He desired to be the only person granted access to this filthy sight. “Let me eat your pussy” . You nods vividly and push your thigh apart. “So obedient” he coos at you while  he pushes your knees against your chest. The way your pussy was drooling on the desk makes him wanting to devour you even more. He start to flick your clit between his fingers.

“Mingyu-ah please don't tease” “Sorry baby” him growing soft for you as he approaches his mouth to your puffy pussy lips. The first time his lick make him realize that he can't get enough of your taste. He start flicking your clit with his tongue which make you squirm. He firmly locked your plush thighs with each of his hands to not letting you move. “Fuck… Gyu..” he start to lock his gaze into yours which makes you even more excited. Your fingers start to lock itself on his long dark hair, tugging them softly. He hums on your pussy creating more vibrations. You let a muffled scream surprised by his action. “Not too loud, they might hear us” slapping your inner thighs, his chin was completely wet of your juices mix with his saliva. He dived back again, eating with all of his willpower making you want to cry even more. Your climax approach faster than before as you felt wave of pleasure in your lower stomach. The slurping noise were too dirty to be heard in this professional location.

But you don't even care, too lost in how Mingyu's tongue was feasting on your pussy. “Mingyu keep going please” you cried. Motivated by your beautiful voice he start to give you even more pleasure. You close your eyes feeling the wave of your orgasm taking your body as your legs start to shake and your vision start to become white. He continued until the last drop. Too pussy drunk, Mingyu was still eating you out addicted to your sweet taste but you were starting too feel the overstimulation coming. You hands on his black strands started to pull him away from your pussy but he had too much strength so he didn't move an inch. Only giving you a devilish grin. The fact that you were half naked expoed to him and him still fully clothed made you even more vulnerable.

Your eyes start to tear up and pleading him stop but he kept going, entering his hot tongue in your hole. No one ever ate you out that way in your entire life. Feeling your heartbeat in your cunt start to accelerate.Your body start to heat up even more creating a small layer of sweat. Suddenly you felt a second wave of orgasm coming out as you push his face even more further into you trying to ride your orgasm. Mouth completely agape, no sound coming from you mouth as feel the wave throughout your body.

Finally he stop as you try to catch your breath. He gave open kisses in your inner thigh as he comes up at your level with half of his face completely covered of mix of your cum and his saliva. He reached out for your face, as you kiss him in a more tender way. Tasting the mixture in his mouth made the experiment even more intimate. If he eat pussy like this you might start falling in love with him. “Your pussy’s taste is fucking addictive” you smirked at him as he helps you to get down from the desk still holding you close to his body. You pushed him to let him set on his chair as you get down on you knees, your eyes filled with greed.

Wanting to feel his cock your start to unbuckle his belt as Mingyu smirks arrogantly and says, "Having trouble there, sweetheart?" Ignoring his arrogant remark. He's still wearing that smug expression, you manage to unbuckle his belt, maintaining your confident demeanor. Mingyu, still trying to assert his dominance, smirks and says, "You really think you can handle someone like me?" Your eyes meet his, and with a subtle laugh, you reply, "Oh, I can handle more than you think, Mr. Kim." you told him playfully using his formal title.

As you proceed, the tension between you two escalates. Mingyu, caught off guard by your boldness, finds himself in uncharted territory. The power dynamic shifts, and for the first time, he's met with someone who not only matches his arrogance but exceeds it. The air thickens with anticipation

As you take out his cock you were quite surprised  by the size of it. When you felt him a few minutes ago you thought he was big big but this is fucking huge. Everything is big on him, his body, his muscles, his fucking ego and of course his fucking cock. Fuck, maybe you were too cocky. It rest hot and heavy on both of your palm. The tip was already smeared of his precum. He's definitely the biggest you ever seen. As he ravished you just a few moments you wanted to do the same to him. As you take his tip on his mouth while your hands occupied the rest of his shaft. Your start to taste his salty precum. You start to jerking him off while looking at him . One of his hand behind his head while the other on top of your head. You can't help to think that's he's even more sexy like that. Determined to make him flinch. You spit on his cock to create more lube to help you take him. You wrapped your smudged lips around him trying to take as much as you can. Bobbing your head up and down trying to find a good tempo. You graze with your tongue the underside of his cock and give extra attention to the veins on that part of his cock. "fuck" he stuttered applying more pressure on the back of your head.

Even in his most dirty dream, Mingyu has never imagined this would happens. Your round tits out of your dress, mouth full of his cock while your hands are jerking the rest off. He's trying his best to not emptying himself right now in your mouth. As you try to take him as much you can, you gagged on him when you felt his tip caressing the back of your throat. Making him groan at the sound. "You look even better with my cock deep down in your throat" 

His words made your thighs rub's together. Your eyes started to cry due to the lack of oxygen, you force yourself to breath with your nose and continue your ministration on the handsome man. You mouth let go of his dick, needed to breathe. Still managing to massage his length with your hands. He take his dick with his hand and start to smear the wetness of precum on your lips. Suddenly you felt his heavy dick slapping on you right cheek indicates you to open your mouth. You opened your mouth while poking your tongue out making him smirk at your action.

He start to slap the tip of his cock on your tongue. One of you hands were playing with your folds. Abruptly he forces his dick down your throat making you gag on him. You love being full of my cock don't you?" you hums approving what he said as you look at his eyes filled with lust. "Cute " he muttered thinking you didn't hear him. He’s even more handsome like that you didn't know it was possible. As you continue to close your throat around him, you start to massage his balls to help him finish faster. He groans as he places his both hands on your neck accelerating his hips movements. Feeling the tears coming down your cheeks.

Both of your hands steadying yourself on his legs. He continue until he released a deep groan. As you felt his hot salty cum in your mouths, he said to you "you better swallow everything, you've already made a mess on my carpet" locking his hands on your neck and jaw. Most of his cum we're already down you throat but a little bit tried to spill out of your mouth. Resulting, Mingyu’s finger collecting his cum from your chin to put it back in your mouth. "filthy slut"

Grabbing you by your waist , he manhandled you back into his desk. He plopped you to your stomach as he bend you over by pushing you back even more into the wood surface. His cold fingers run to your side until your ass, he spread your ass cheeks with his hands. "You're so fucking wet" "I'm gonna take you like that cuz I don't think you'll be able taking me in missionary" he said knowingly that your ass will hide a few inches of his dick. Try to remain as confident as possible. " I can take you in missionary, Mingyu" he smirked while giving his dick a few stroke, poking his tip to you clit making you shudder. "mmh, we'll see about that"

His align himself your entrance, entering only his tip making you moan. He suddenly grab you hair and start to spit next to you "You better be quiet or I stop" you nod, too scared to not cum on his thick dick. He continue to enter you, feeling the stretch burn your tears welled up. Your tight pussy was bullied by his girth. Not wanting to make any noise you start to bite on your arm. "Fuck, relax a bit. You're squeezing me" he said massaging your hips. Mingyu felt your raw velvety walls pulsating around his dick and sensed a suffocating pressure. He kept massaging your lower back and ass helping to relax so he can penetrate even more. If he don't start to move he think he'll cum right away. "Gyu... more" as you start to beg him while moving in your hips. "you're tight as fuuccckk" He's now deep down in your guts and you can't think anymore. The only thing in your mind is his big cock. "I thought I prepped you well but you're sucking the life out of me" you felt his dick throbbing in you as you keep begging for more and more. Too lost in your own pleasure. He began to quicken the pace while groping your hips and ass. Your frustration grew as you longed to see his face and feel him beneath your touch. "Want to touch you ...Gyu…" you start to utter between the moans. The sounds you made were utterly pornographic that almost made him cum. Taking his dick smeared of your juices out of your pussy. He flipped you, being on your back. Your arms locked around his neck as your lips finally collide. Struggling with the button of his shirt, you desire to feel him even closer, you start to taking off his tie. As you grapple with the fabric, he laughs softly against your lips, eliciting a smile from you like a teenage girl. The warning echoes in your mind not to fall for him, but the soft kiss on your right cheek makes it challenging. He rises from your body, and you instruct, "Be fast; I need you right now."

As Mingyu swiftly removes his shirt, you scan him, absorbing the sight of his body. The defined, tan muscles of his upper body come into your eyes— from his broad shoulders to his well-defined chest, the subtle ridges of abdominal muscles hinting at his underlying strength. The play of shadows emphasizes every contour, making the scene more captivating. Your gaze lingers, captivated by the visual spectacle he presents. You can't help to play with yourself in front of this sight. "You're making me so wet Mingyu" " I know baby, come here" saying this while taking both of your legs on his shoulder. You grab him by the neck as you kiss him again, finally feeling the warmth that he radiates from his body to your epidermis. His hand on your neck while the other align his dick to your entrance. " Tell me if it hurts too much sweetheart" Suddenly, everything becomes more intimate, and you can't help but feel butterflies in your stomach as he treats you with care, his every touch deliberate and gentle.

He enters your pussy making you hiss at the intrusion. "Fuck, you feel even more bigger" trying to grip yourself to his bulging biceps and your nails start to dig on his back. "I told you" as he start to quicken his pace. You moan start to get louder as the rhythm starts to become faster. He squeezed enough your throat to reduced your airflow making you feel even more delirious about all the sensations. It also helps to reduce your moan, which was a miracle nobody interrupted you yet. His mouth kept worshipping the rest of your body and whispering filthy words in your neck. Knowing that you'll not last longer you told him as he acknowledge it, he rubs your clit rigorously helping to reach your climax faster. He can't help himself to stare at where you're both connected to see a white ring of your cum around his cock that makes him whine. His hips start to become more sloppy as your walls clamped down on his cock. You kept chanting his name, your mind completely bathed in lust. Nails ripping off harder his back and his biceps. Him enjoying the small pain that you inflict on his skin. Feeling climax coming "Yes — fuck, I'm coming, I fucking love your dick mingyu" completely ecstatic on his dick while you felt tears coming down in your cheeks. He kissed away the tears while his hips are sloppier than ever, feeling his dick twitched inside you follow with the sensation a hot semen filling you up to the brim. His cum starting to ooze out of your pussy while he take his dick out of you, creating even more mess between your legs and the carpet underneath both of you.

He kissed you softly as he said " you're my slut now"

————————————————————————

Taglist: @ishireads @asyre @thepoopdokyeomtouched @mansaaay

[sainzzsturns]

Tease

H. Fort x fem!reader

category: fluff

warnings: none, lowercase intended, sorry in advance for any grammar errors english it’s my first language.

summary: where reader finds it funny how grumpy and shy hector gets when teased by his teammates

a/n: for one of my fav players whose extremely underrated, like how is no one talking about his assist to fermin on thursday???

you were picking héctor up from his practice at the barça grounds since you would leave work around the time he finished up.

you noticed you were still a bit early so you parked your car and entered the hallway at the estadi olímpic.

your access was allowed since most of the people working there already knew you from picking your boyfriend up and sometimes giving his teammates rides.

you walked up the stairs in your light washed jeans and white long sleeve shirt covered with a pink jacket since it was more of a chilly day.

you saw xavi discussing something with frankie as you gave them a wave and sat somewhere in the stands to watch the rest of practice.

héctor soon noticed you and gave you a wave, you blew him a kiss back. you instantly noticed lamine going in his direction starting to tease him about his girlfriend.

“ooh héctor’s blushing!” he yelled, fermín soon joined the teasing as well.

you giggled looking at your boyfriend’s tall structure turning to the boys with a intimidating stare.

“oh he thinks he’s so strong and intimidating…” marc joined in as well, causing you to giggle even more.

“callate” héctor growled in response, trying to hide the reddened of his cheeks. (shut up)

the boys continued laughing until xavi told them they were good to go.

héctor ran up to you, giving you a kiss and collecting his things, which you had sat beside. he began walking out, shaking his hand out, signaling for you to take it, which you did.

you came across the rest of the team in the hallways, hugging joão félix and pablo, who were talking while filling up their water bottles.

“ah lamine do you need a ride again?” you asked when you spotted him, being that last time his mom wasn’t able to.

“i’m sure he doesn’t, if he does marc can give him one.” héctor said firmly, looking at the boy.

“oh my god dude you can’t seriously be mad, we were just teasing you!” lamine said.

“yeah it’s okay babe.” you said as well.

héctor rolled his eyes, “well do you need a ride or no?” he asked.

“i’m good thank’s for asking babe” he teased héctor again.

you swore you could see the littlest grin on your boyfriend’s face as he slapped the back of lamine’s neck as the youngest giggled.

“bye babe…” lamine sang as you and héctor left.

when you arrived home héctor made his way to the bathroom to take a shower while you prepared lunch for the both of you.

just as you were finishing up he came down the stairs in a pair of black sweats and a white t-shirt.

he hugged you from behind while you mixed the rice in the pan, his strong arms laying above your chest.

“it’s so funny how shy you get when the boys tease you.” you said to him.

“no it’s not, don’t even start.”

“but it is! you always have this mean face but you’re really just a soft little boy.” you said again, his hands moving down to your waist giving it a squeeze as he hid his red face in your neck.

“i’m not ‘soft’ im literally 6’1” he groaned into your skin embarrassed.

“well you’re just a big baby.” you said, turning to him. “my baby…”

“you’re so corny” he answered rolling his eyes and lowering himself to give your a kiss

“you love me!” you argued back.

“a lot, cariño” he answered. (sweetheart)

[njstokkis]

paradise

Kim minji x gn!reader

synopsis: a quiet day at home spent with food and laughter.

word count: 1k+

warnings: fluff; kim minji being domestic; overall just kinda lovey-dovey; horrible grammar, HORRIBLE HORRIBLE grammar (im so sorry); kinda proofread (?); idk i wrote this on my phone at 4 in the morning; short as hell mb :')

a/n: hiiii, this is my first time posting here, trying to build up my confidence in the writing department 😔, and i thought why not start with something nice like this, it's probably not any good but I tried. thank you in advance for reading!!!

the small breeze sifts through the half opened windows, curtains flowing slightly from the calm wind gently blowing against it. sunlight beamed into the crevices of your eyelids, slowly seeping into your senses.

you shift, attempting to cover yourself with your blanket with knitted brows, you reach over to the other side of the bed, patting it aimlessly in search of your lover to cling onto, but you find nothing in the midst.

letting out a low grumble at the loss, you bring your hands to your face. digging your palms in your eyes, attempting to rub the sleep out. still you let out multitudes of groans and sighs as you stretch, bones emiting a mild cracking noise as you reach up with your hands, mouth agape as you yawn.

you let out a puff of air as you relax against the comfort of your bed, flopping down your limbs dramatically. the warmth of your blanket suddenly not providing as much consolation as it did. you blink rapidly, trying to adjust to the harsh sunlight through the drawn-open curtains. you look over to the side, hoping that there's a chance that you just dreamt of her not being beside you, but alas, you find nothing, her side of the bed cold in contrast to the current sunlight.

you reluctantly pull the blankets off your body, shivering at the sudden change of temperature. sitting up, you rub your palms together, trying to create warmth as you yawn a second time. after hyping yourself up to get out of your 'bed nest', you swing your feet off your bed. your sole touching the cold hardwood flooring of your apartment. you hiss, immediately lifting your feet back up, glaring your bleary eyes down at the floor in betrayal upon ultimately finding your fuzzy slippers all the way across the room. cursing under your breath, you narrowly navigate the floor tiles 'the floor is lava' style, keeping yourself up on your tippy toes.

slipping into your source of warmth, you sluggishly swing the bedroom door open, dragging yourself forward to find your lover.

you sniff at the slight scent of food wafting through the air. you immediately perk up at the quiet whirling of the coffee machine and the sounds of music softly playing, you venture towards the source of the clatter.

you find minji in the open kitchen, back turned towards you, dressed in a casual t-shirt and shorts, one side of her collar unadjusted as it hangs off the edge of her shoulder. she faces the stove, her hands carefully adjusting the pan. you smile unconsciously as you see the Korean girl bopping her head along with the beat of the music, occasionally doing small little dance moves. nose scrunched as she focuses on not burning the food. chuckling quietly to yourself, you walk over to her, wrapping your arms around her middle and nuzzling you head in her neck.

she yelps, flinching slightly, "woah, you scared me!"

you let out a laugh, giggling at her reaction, "oh c'mon you big baby," you tease, voice raspy from sleep, "whatcha makin'?"

"tteokbokki," she smiles, pushing her glasses up slightly (UGHHHH omg sorry) with one hand, and the other gently caressing your knuckles.

you let out a content sigh, happy to be free of the burdens of working for a day, closing your eyes and melting further into minji as she continues her ministrations on the pan, using a spatula to poke the rice cakes once in a while.

"you okay, love?" minji says after a period of silence. glancing behind her to catch a glimpse of your face.

"mm...just wanna stay like this for a while," you grumble tiredly, "still waking up..."

minji chuckles, "well you're gonna have to move a little cause im done cooking,"

you let out a small hum, but still clings onto minji as she stiffly moves to plate the food, thanks to the human attached to her back. you giggle tiredly as she struggles to move, grunting dramatically with every step she takes, "dear..." she playfully whines as you finally give up, giving her one last squeeze as you release her from your hold, letting her continue filling the bowl with your respective breakfasts.

while she was occupied with the food, you get busy setting the table for the two of you, the action slowly becoming a tradition for you both as you alternate on setting the table and making breakfast on your off days.

you move to a drawer in the kitchen, pulling it open as you idly search for the utensils needed. ruffling around, you pick up forks and napkins and rinse them, setting them down on the coffee table.

you sniff, the sweet smell of tteokbokki fills the room as you move to sit on the couch, plopping down on the plush material, making sure the utensils set in front of you were in orderly fashion. you look at minji's form in anticipation as she (finally) finishes plating the food.

she walks towards the coffee table while balancing your cups and bowls and you move slightly from your place on the couch to help guide her hands to the table safely, making sure she doesn't burn herself accidentally.

she sits next to you on the couch and immediately leans her head on your shoulder, letting out a small groan, entertwining your hands together. you chuckle, tilting your head to rest on hers aswell, but not before placing a chaste kiss on her head.

"eat?" you mumble after a small while, minji nods her head in response as she moves to pick up a fork, digging into her food while you do the same, with music softly playing in the background.

you nod slightly, smiling as you're impressed by her cooking, taking more frequent bites. almost finishing your meals, minji nods suddenly, and quite agressively, a satisfied hum slipping past her lips as she smiles, you look at her questioningly as she points to the food, "i really outdid myself here," she says smugly, wiggling her eyebrows at you, expecting a compliment.

"hmmm..." you pretend to think as you take another bite, "it could use more salt..." immediately, minji let's out a dragged out protest as she pushes your shoulder. you laugh heartily while she continues moving you back and forth by your shoulders, continuing her complaints.

"ahh, ahh, I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" you grinned.

"say it tastes good!" she tackles you on the couch, holding onto eachother as you cackle.

"it tastes good, it tastes good!" you get out despite the numerous attacks you've received.

its until then does she release you, chest heaving from laughter as she collapses on top of you, both still a giggling mess.

you wrap your arms around her, smiling softly as you both calm down, until only soft breathing is heard. she sighs and nuzzles into the crook of your neck, placing a kiss there with the upmost gentleness, "every morning I fall in love with you all over again."

and just like that, with meals forgotten, you both relish in the feeling of being in love, and being loved.