#the last hour of that was just. staring at my document. trying to get my cold ass fingers to type something

[goldendiie]

i worked on that queer historiography project for seven straight hours today (which FELT like decent progress, but really i've just been playing catch up for the last two months of school), and literally the second i closed out of it, i opened up my document for the hawk. heal me sargemore. heal me old man yaoi.

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for going no contact with my brother after he pulled a scare on my husband?

EDIT: For those of you coming here from my brother’s post (X) to shit on me, you look like idiots. Try to have an original thought and really contemplate who’s telling the truth after hearing both sides.

I (32f) am one of three siblings. We come from a very well off family. My dad is a former Cryptid and he pioneered the Hook Man in the 70s, so he still gets residuals off of that. We grew up very comfortable and with the ability to do anything we wanted in life. My older brother went to a very prestigious school and my dad gave him the money for tuition. Because my older brother got scholarships, he was able to save some of that money. Right now he works in human tech (very lucrative), but his long-term plan is to use the money to start a Cyber Spook business once he is satisfied with his knowledge foundation.

I ended up taking a gap year before going to community college, but I never felt anything click. I worked part-time jobs spinning out scarer costumes and even did some part-time work as a slasher before deciding it wasn’t for me. I finally found my calling when I offered to help cater for my high school reunion, and now I run a fairly successful catering business.

When it came time for my younger brother, “Steve,” to get his money, he didn’t tell anyone what he was going to use it for. He was working as a Slasher at a small firm in town. We all assumed he’d either go to Scare School or invest the money to start a business like our older brother did.

So when Steve showed up to Halloween dinner one day, six feet taller with extra joints in his arms and legs, we were all shocked.

Dad was furious. He gave us all the same talk about the scare industry when we got our first part-time jobs documenting missions at his company. He told us that scare work was hard and backbreaking. We couldn’t buy our way into it or use his connections to become successful. If we were interested in it, we had to work our way up from the ground like he did. If we didn’t, we’d more than likely end up dead at the hands of a final girl.

He especially emphasized that mods had to be considered carefully and were NOT a substitute for skill.

Steve thought they were. When his company didn’t pay him back for his body modification AND didn’t promote him from Slasher to Regional Nightmare, he quit. But the surgeries drained his cash and he couldn’t afford his apartment anymore. He had to move back in with Mom and Dad. As always, Mom totally coddled him. She said that he didn’t have to pay rent and agreed with whatever he said when he’d go on these long tirades about his former company.

I could tell Dad wasn’t happy with the arrangement, but he’s never been able to go against Mom. So he mostly kept his mouth shut though he did try to get Steve a job at his old company. However, last I heard, Steve was set against anything corporate and was spending a dozen hours a day driving around using the app SlashDash to find jobs.

About a year and a half ago, I was over for dinner with Steve, Mom and Dad. Steve was talking about work. He said SlashDash wasn’t working out for him and was taking too many fees out. I offered advice since I’d done Slashing in high school. I recommended sites like Scarework and Midnighterr to get more gigs.

Mom told me I interrupted Steve. She gestured for him to continue and tell me about his exciting new setup.

Steve told me he was beyond the sites I recommended. He said he’d bought a scanner so he could listen to broadcasts of active corporate missions. When those fail, he arrives on scene to kill any straggling humans before the scare company in question can send a cleanup crew. And since he’s a Slasher on their scene, they have to give him emergency pay for doing it. It’s a total ambulance-chaser, bottom-feeder move.

Dad was just staring at his plate, not saying anything, but I could tell he was ashamed of Steve. Steve was bragging about being a vulture in the profession Dad helped build.

I asked Steve if he was proud of himself for living off of leftovers. Steve blew up at me, but so did Mom. She chided me for not respecting my brother’s hard work and that his idea to get a scanner was genius, not predatory.

After that dinner, Steve and I rarely talked. Most of the news I got about him came from our older brother bitching about Steve badgering him for scare connections or Mom bragging about Steve killing and “meeting quota.” She would get very cold with me when I told her he was finishing a quota someone else started and not doing his own work. She told me if I couldn’t respect Steve, then I was welcome to not come over while he lived with her.

(Yes, Steve’s always been the golden child.)

I stopped interfering with Steve and focused on my own life. Shortly after, I met my wonderful fiancé “Reginald” while catering an event at Dad’s old company. Reginald is the head of sanitation and he’s the one who gets sent out to clean up any unexpected events during a Scare (like any magical residue or body parts that can’t be explained away through human means). He used to want to be a Cryptid, but he’s got a heart condition that prevents him from working in the field. He says that he’s happy being the “janitor” and happier being with me 😊

Reginald and I got engaged after only eight months of dating. Dad always says that when you know, you know. I invited everyone in my family to an engagement party. Steve didn’t bother answering the invitation. Even though Steve and I weren’t on good terms, I was still hurt when he didn’t show.

When I confronted him about it afterwards, he said that he’d been promoted to Regional Nightmare and he was patrolling his territory, and that’s why he couldn’t come. I asked him what company he was working for, and he said he was still using the scanner.

I pointed out that he couldn’t be a Regional Nightmare without a state license since only the state can assign territories. He started going on and on about being his own “Monster” (and let me tell you, extra joints DOESN’T make you a Monster, those guys are way more committed) and that he had passed the state exam.

When I told Reginald about my brother calling himself a Regional Nightmare, he was concerned. He works closely with the legal department, and he said that Steve is opening himself up to lawsuits by declaring public slashing grounds as his “territory.” He offered to talk to Steve.

We went over to Mom and Dad’s house together to confront him. Dad didn’t know he was calling himself a Regional Nightmare and he went pale when I told them why we were there. Reginald explained to Steve and Mom that being certified was different than being licensed. Legally, Steve is a Slasher even if he can control shadows now (which is a VERY expensive talent to acquire if you aren’t born with it. I think Mom may have paid for it).

The conversation didn’t go well. Steve said a lot of nasty things about Reginald not hacking it as Slasher and claimed he was just jealous. He picked on Reginald’s health which I had me seeing red. I asked Steve what there was to be jealous of since he still mooches off of our parents? Mom got involved and it went downhill from there.

All this to say that I didn’t expect Steve to show up at my gender reveal party less than 5 months later.

Reginald and I weren’t planning on kids this early, but we knew it was meant to be as soon as I got that pregnancy test back. We decided to put off our wedding so that our baby can be part of the ceremony that makes us a family. That being said, I did still have a lot of things ordered for the wedding so I turned the day into a baby shower/gender reveal instead.

That brings us to the party my lovely brother wrote about. First of all, he wasn’t invited by me. Mom invited him, and when I found out, I wasn’t happy with her, considering he never apologized to Reginald after our last fight.

Reginald was stuck at work (some idiot brought together a whole summer camp of final girls and the aftermath was brutal) so I had to force myself to be a good hostess. It was mostly fine. We have good friends and my older brother was very kind in helping me with some of the baby games we were planning to play when Reginald finally got there.

Steve, however, was NOT helpful.

He was annoying the whole time. He messed with the kitchen and he hounded the guests. I’m PREGNANT and the smell of raw meat triggers my gag reflex. He took the meat off the heat without me noticing and basically prevented me from eating lunch with everyone else.

Additionally, Steve claimed in his post that the party was dying??? Reginald and Dad have a lot of friends in common so the party did NOT die. They were all interested in talking to Dad. Dad’s voice is very quiet and raspy from strain over the years, so everyone was being quiet to hear him better. Steve was the one practically screaming over him to talk about his scummy job. The new Hook Man who succeeded Dad was there and Steve basically treated the poor man like a novice even though he’s a Cryptid.

Reginald finally got home and I could tell he was exhausted when I met him at the door. He still put on a smile for me though and said he didn’t need to miss out even when I told him it would be okay. He wanted to be there in our big moment to celebrate our family. He went upstairs to change.

I went back to the guests to tell them that we would start the games soon. That’s when I heard Reginald scream and fall down the stairs.

I’ll never forget the look on Reginald’s face. He was lying at the base of the stairs and looked like he was dying. He was gasping for breath and clutching at his chest. I was terrified his heart was giving up. I asked Hook Man to call an ambulance.

That’s when Steve started laughing.

I lost it. I screamed at Steve to get out. He told me to calm down, he’d just scared Reginald a little bit as a joke. I told him he knew about Reginald’s heart condition and that it was incredibly disrespectful to scare my fiancé in our own house.

He said he didn’t mean to scare him that bad, but that he was just better at it than he thought. His scares were too powerful. He seemed smug and was still laughing.

I accused him of intentionally hurting Reginald because of the licensing versus certification argument we had. I said he was a bully and an idiot.

Mom jumped in and said it was an accident.

Dad FINALLY said something. He shadow-walked (the first time in YEARS) up the stairs and hooked Steve by the neck. He dragged all twelve feet of him down the stairs and told him to get out.

Steve said, “For what? It’s not my fault that weak-hearted son of a bitch can’t take a joke.”

Dad lost it. He told Steve a REAL scarer wouldn’t use their abilities like that on their own families. He told Mom and Steve it didn’t matter if he meant it as a joke. The fact is he used his scare tactics on a layperson, and he could get blacklisted from the profession for it.

Dad kicked Steve out and told him he wasn’t welcome back into the basement until he got a REAL job. Steve kept arguing, but the paramedics arrived then and I lost track of the rest of it.

I went with Reginald to the hospital where Reginald insisted we both get checked out. The stress wasn’t good for the baby and doctor told me it might be best to go on maternity leave sooner rather than later. Reginald is also going to be taking a leave from work. He had a heart attack because of my brother.

Things could have ended worse, but they didn’t end well. I told my parents that I refuse to have Steve at my wedding or even to see my child after they’re born (and now I STILL don’t know the gender! Only our older brother knows since he got the gender reveal cake).

Mom started to protest, but Dad said he understood. He said that both he and Mom just wanted me to be happy and healthy and that they would take care of Steve.

So now I leave it up to you. Having read both of our posts, who do you think is the real asshole? My brother for being “proud” of scaring my fiancé into a heart attack at our baby’s gender reveal party? Or me for never talking to said brother again for the health of my future family?

AITA?

----

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See you next week!

This week's story is based on this (x) prompt from Writing-prompt-s:

You are a person who covers your counter space in clutter and inadvertently makes a shrine to a long forgotten god who shows up to thank you.

[the-californicationist]

he opens the mail

Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen. The only cure? Your pussy, apparently.

Warning: sex pollen tropes, extremely dubious consent, attempt at satire?, angry john price

“We’re never going to make this deadline. Laswell’s gonna kill me,” you complained, burying your head in the pile of envelopes and packages strewn over your desk. 

“Did this to yourself, lass. Shoulda been keepin’ up with intel duty. Wee bit at a time, ‘s what I say,” Soap patted you on the shoulder, feigning pity. 

You spent hours combing through the documents, and by the time everyone had gone to bed, your fingers were covered in paper cuts, and your vision was blurry from squinting at the poorly scrawled Cyrillic words. 

You thought you were alone, and as you stood up to stretch and refill your coffee mug, Captain Price opened up the office door, scaring you half to death. 

“Oh, hey Corporal,” he smiled and then furrowed his brow, “What are you still doing here?”

You sighed, pointing to the piles of documents,

“Laswell’s intel backlog. I’m the only one with a Level 3 linguistics cert for Russian, so here I am. Gonna be an all-nighter.”

He closed the door and sat down across from your seat, digging into the pile, 

“I’m Level 3. Let’s finish it.”

“Captain, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got more important things…”

Price shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it on the chair back,

“Nah, tha’s alright, love. I’ll help ya. Get us a tea, yeah?”

You knew how he took his tea, and you hated that you did. Secretly, you were obsessed with him. He was always around, smelling like balsam wood and tobacco, looking like a gladiator, huge and capable in the most masculine way. It was hard to concentrate when he was nearby. Now that he had offered to help, you had to grin and bear it. 

You worked together for a while, chatting, even laughing. It was nice. You had so much in common, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself much more at ease. Finally, three packages remained. You opened the first one and found little more than phone records for a local library. Unhelpful to say the least. Price opened a water bill, and he recognized the address of a recent Konni base location. Any intel at this point felt like a celebration. Then, the final box. 

“Go on then. Show us the ending,” he smiled, handing it to you. 

“Couldn’t take the joy of ripping up the last letter, Captain. Be my guest,” you smiled. 

He chuckled, tearing into the envelope. In a flash, bright pink powder sprayed him directly in the eyes, and he writhed in pain, pinching them shut, his whole body going stiff. 

“Fuck me!” He shouted. 

“Hang on,” you ran over to the sink in the kitchenette, “Here’s some water. Get that shit out of your eyes.”

“Don’t,” he moved away from you like you were on fire, “Don’t touch me. Might be contagious.”

Your chest was rising and falling with your labored breathing, and you were immediately worried. You reached for your phone and called Laswell.

“Laswell, Price got anthraxed by one of the intel letters. What do you want us to do?”

She gasped, 

“What? Shit. I’m on my way.”

She hung up on you. You watched Price slowly try to open his eyes. They were stained hot pink from the powder. 

“You alright?” You asked him. 

“Yeah, love,” he sighed, “Doesn’t hurt anymore. Feeling strange though. Laswell said she’s coming?”

You nodded,

“Yeah, just in case.”

He nodded, running his hand along the inside of his collar. The captain was sweaty and a little pale. 

“Captain, are you okay?”

“Mmm, no,” he shook his head, “Something’s not right, love.”

He stood and went to the sink, washing as much of the powder off as he could. You moved away from him and stationed yourself across the room, praying for Laswell to hurry. 

Price was in a bad way. He took off his shirt, and he was still dripping with beads of sweat. You tried not to stare, but his temperature wasn’t the only thing heating up. His huge cock was making a prominent tent in his pants, but he was in too much pain to bother hiding it. You felt yourself blushing, and you willed yourself to pull it together. 

“…fuckin’ hell,” his hand went to his crotch to squeeze his length, trying to find some relief, “Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay,” you said politely, trying to breathe normally, but feeling the slick rush melt between your legs. 

“It’s makin’ me…feel…bloody hell. I can’t hold it off. Can…can you…? No! No, what the fuck am I sayin’? No,” he shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face, hot and very bothered. 

You inched closer to him,

“If I haven’t been affected yet, I’m sure it’s okay. How should I help you?”

“No! No, stay back. I’m not…I can’t think straight. My mind’s got one thing on it,” he shoved his hands beyond his zipper and began to jerk himself off, his dick making lurid noises with his hand. 

You hated seeing him so helpless. You moved to his side,

“Cap, it’s okay. Let me help you.”

His hand was around your throat in milliseconds. Price shoved you against the wall and began to kiss your mouth, furiously laving his tongue against yours. 

“No, no, no,” he whispered through his kisses, not bothering to pull away as he spoke his lamentations. 

You made the mistake of putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He moaned, trembling beneath your touch,

“Ahh, careful.”

“Sorry,” you pulled your hands away, still trapped in his firm grip around your neck, “did I hurt you?”

“No, doesn’t hurt.”

He said it in a way that darkly implied your touch was igniting a different kind of fire. You put your hands back where they were, and his eyes shot open, piercing through yours with a lustful rage. Unexpectedly, he ripped off your shirt and lay you down on the black leather couch in the corner of the office. He crushed you with his weight, kissing you deeply. 

Then, your phone rang. He didn’t allow you to pause, so it went to voicemail. It rang again. You were getting just as hot as he was, and you weren’t that interested in who was looking for you in the middle of the night. Until, however, the door to the office burst wide open and Laswell and Gaz burst through it. 

Price snarled. You’d never heard a man make that noise before. Laswell put her hands on her hips while Gaz tried to shield his face in shock. Laswell rubbed her forehead, frustrated,

“Are his eyes pink, Corporal?”

You escaped his jaws for a moment, 

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s a sex drug. Forces the user to fornicate as it is only passed through the body in seminal fluid, dissolving in the heat of another person’s body. Are you volunteering here? What happened?”

Her tone was so matter of fact, it was a little humorous, if Price’s length wasn’t rutting against you in earnest, you might've laughed. You tried to explain as much as he would allow,

“Got too close… just… happened. How…” you moaned as Price pulled down the strap of your bra and helped himself to your nipple, “How did you know?”

She sighed, typing something into her datapad,

“Checked the incident log from this afternoon. Four more cases of this have popped up in intel collections. Gonna have to screen for it next time.”

She turned to walk out of the office with Gaz, and you called after her,

“Hey, wait! How long does it - oh, fuck… how long does it last?”

Laswell had the audacity to smirk at you, raising her eyebrows and cutting her eyes at Price’s swollen cock, lolling out of his pants, scraping itself against you. 

“Eight hours. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, Corporal. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”

Part 2

[bluublu-blub]

yan! ex husband (cont.)

Things got a little messy with my life within 5 days after I uploaded. I was almost disowned but things are better now. I was planning on uploading soon but I only got time now.

next

You barely remember when it started —when was the last time he sat down and spent time with you instead brushing you off in your rare times of rest. You do understand how time consuming his daily activities are. He was, after all, a professor by day and a medical student at night. So, you would smile at him and assure him that you always understand and you are fine with less date nights and hangouts. But, you were only asking a bare minimum from him —you just want some time where you both just sit in each other’s presence and let the silence be because it brought you comfort.

You just want to know that he is still there.

That, in some way or form, you still matter.

(In the back of your mind, you wonder if it is a right choice to get married as soon as you both finished your undergraduate degrees.)

(You brush the traitorous thoughts away from your mind.)

Just a little more. You can still wait.

–

Was it by a stroke of unfortunate circumstances, you wonder as you watched him grinned widely as he finished med school and immediately was recruited to some hospital while his words came from one ear to another. He seems so happy and less stressed as you try to keep up with him. 

“What do you think, love?”

What do you think? 

“What?”

“I asked if we can move closer to my workplace?” He repeated and you felt that once again your world froze. “It will be a different environment from here. The distance is a little over five hours in this place. Wouldn't it be more convenient?”

“Oh, yeah.” Convenient for him, sure. But, what about your career? “But, it will be far from mine.”

He brushed you off. “Well, you can always quit right?” Then he moved on to the next topic as if you agreed.

Oh.

Do you really matter to him at all?

–

You often heard from your friends that sometimes being together wouldn’t be enough if the relationship becomes stagnant and prison for your well-being. You had denied everything that is slowly ruining your relationship for years now, you let go of your convictions, passions, and dreams just for him. Let him shine and soar high while you are left scrambling in the ground. 

It was not like this before. 

Before, he listened. He was there before, there used to be a lot more love and smiles. 

Home was him before.

Home is not him now.

—

You stared at the documents in your hand, you had talked to your attorney about the procedures and now you need his signature.

“Love?” He’s back early for a change.

It’s time to end this godforsaken marriage and choose yourself for once.

“I need you to sign this.”

There is no going back to the past.

[beenbaanbuun]

cockwarming w/ san

words - wordcount? not round here, partner 🤠

genre - fluff, nsfw

warnings - stressed!reader, dom!san, sub!reader, subspace, guidance, soft!san (both him and his penis), cockwarming, clothed, san manspreading…

——————————————————————————

thinking about cockwarming sannie… am i absolutely feral? definitely! ANYWAYS!!!!

you’re sitting on the floor, glasses slipping down your nose as you stare at the documents in front of you

not many of then make sense, but that could just be the tediousness of reading them setting in and slowing down your weary brain

all the words are moulding into one and entire paragraphs are jumbling together as you desperately try and focus

you so desperately want to reach for your phone and give yourself a break

but you remind yourself that you’re just looking for distractions which is really not what you need when you’re struggling to focus anyway

so you start from the top, attempting to read the paper from the beginning

and you don’t get very far when you hear the front door open and your attention once again slips away from the paper

you turn slightly, just enough to see san step into the apartment and take his shoes and coat off

the way his shoulders sink in relaxation is visible and he lets out a long, deep sigh of relief at finally being home

your papers are almost forgotten as you watch him make his way towards the armchair in the corner of the room and take a seat

in fact, as he relaxes, spreading his thighs out until there’s a perfect you-sized gap between them, the papers are the last thing on your mind

“hi, pretty,” he croons as he shuffles to get himself comfy, “good day?”

you nod, mouth going dry at the way his hand naturally falls to rest just inches from his crotch, his pretty fingers flexing a few times before settling against his thigh

his beautiful, thick thigh that is almost fully exposed by those little gym shorts he insists on wearing

you stare at it for a moment or two, noticing the way it flexes slightly against the hem

his honey skin is still slightly shiny from the residual sweat of his evening workout

just the thought of him using his pretty thigh muscles to lift himself up from a squat is enough to send your brain into a dizzy haze

“looks like you’ve been working hard,” he smiles, head dipping to gesture to the pile of forgotten papers on the table, “is that research for your thesis?”

it is, you think to yourself, not that you’d actually learned anything from reading, sorry, trying to read any of it

“yeah,” you answer him, “but it’s all so boring than i can barely even look at it without wanting to die. i’ve been at it for hours and i can’t tell you a single thing i’ve read.”

there’s a pout on your face as you mumble out your complaints; you’re adorable when you’re all moody like this

“learning isn’t linear, baby,” he chuckles, “the fact that nothing’s sticking in that little brain of yours probably my just means you need a break.”

“i’d love a break,” you admit, “but i’d also love to get through this pile of research by the time we go to bed, so…”

“so… take a break and go back to it later,” san shrugs, “not like all that paper is suddenly going to grow legs and run away, right?”

you scoff at his sarcasm and the smug look on his face, but you know he’s right; you probably should take a break…

“but i know if i take a break i won’t want to do it anymore,” you say, although the excuse sounds weak even to you

“then do it tomorrow; it’s not like it needs to be done tonight, honey,” and he’s right, so you nod, and he smiles

but the feeling of stress doesn’t go away as you pile up the sheets of paper in the centre of the coffee table

and it doesn’t go away as you save your thesis draft and close the lid to your laptop

your shoulders are still very stiff, and your head is still feeling weary from just how hard you’d been trying to focus

even when you slip your glasses off, a physical weight lifting from your face, your brain doesn’t slow down

it just doesn’t let you settle like you and san so badly want you to

he watches you fidget with your surroundings, eyes flicking to the pile of papers every so often whilst your fingers drum against the table restlessly

he sighs; clearly you’re going to need some help with this

“baby,” he says softly; you look at him and all he can see is stress written across your features, “do you want me to help you relax?”

your eyes flick over to him, still manspreading in the chair and looking the the picture of masculinity itself

you know it wouldn’t take long for him to silence your brain; not when he already has your brain feeling a little on the foggy side

you nod, mumbling out a small ‘please’ that he can barely hear

“come here then, baby,” he pats the inside of his thigh with his palm, the sound ringing around the room, “come sit with me, yeah?”

it takes a second for you to register what he’s asking you to do, but when it finally does, you feel your breath hitch in your throat

he hasn’t closed his legs for you to sit on, and the hand that rests on his thigh doesn’t shift to make space for you

why would it when there’s already a you-shaped space between his thighs?

you watch as he reaches behind him to grab the cushion from the chair, pulling it out and placing it on the floor between his feet

you cant stop the soft whimper that leaves your throat

“come on, pretty thing,” he coos, “you know it’ll help you.”

and you do know that, you really do

it’s exactly the push you know you need to take your mind off of everything, and holy fuck do you want it

so you shuffle towards him on your knees, inching closer and closer to that spot that seemed to be just made for you

he smiles at you as he watches you settle in on the cushion, the plush material taking the pressure of the cold, hard floorboards off of your delicate knees

you shuffle around a little, trying to get comfy before looking up at him, wide eyes looking into his own

and he can’t help but brush a hand across your cheek, chucking as you lean into his gentle touch

“my precious girl, aren’t you?” he whispers, running a thumb over you cheekbone, “working so hard; you’re so good, aren’t you?”

he shifts his hand until two of his fingers press against your lips

you separate them to allow his digits inside of the warm, wet cavern; he can’t help but fill with pride when he sees just how good you’re being

the tips of his fingers slide to the back of your tongue, caressing it slightly until he feels your throat constrict around them

he pulls them back slightly, instead pushing them down on the centre of your tongue to make your drool puddle up around them

“just let yourself stop thinking, okay?” he says as he plays with your tongue, “you’re too stressed, baby, and it’s not good for you.”

he caresses your wet muscle with his fingertips; you let your eyes flutter closed at the sensation

“turn your brain off for me,” his voice is soft as he talks you down into an all-too-familiar headspace, “be good for your big boy, hm? let me take care of you.”

and with the combination of your position between his legs, the fingers in your mouth, and his pretty words, you find it so incredibly easy to just… slip away

any thought of your thesis is gone and replaced with san

the worries about finishing on time, and the concerns about the reading you don’t quite understand; san

everything is just… san

you let out a small sound as you push your head down onto his hand, taking more of his fingers into your mouth

the weight of them on your tongue was nice, you decide, but not quite enough

they don’t quite hold the warmth and heaviness that your tongue is craving

it’s not quite enough to completely ground you like you know you need

“you want more?” he always has been so good at reading you; you nod around his fingers, “want your big boy’s cock in your mouth?”

you moan at the thought, desperately moving your head up and down to tell him yes

“does my precious girl want to warm her big boy up? is that it?” yes, yes, a million times yes, “want to wrap your pretty lips around me while you relax, hm?”

he chuckles when you pull off of his fingers and sit there looking at him through your lashes with a slack jaw

so pretty, he thinks when you stick your tongue out and blink up at him through those fluttery lashes of yours

pretty enough that you have him wrapped around your pinky finger

he really would do anything to make you happy, and it seems that what would make you happy right now is him in your mouth

so he wastes no time in reaching for his waistband and pushing it down his thighs to reveal his soft cock

he takes it in hand and holds it out for you, waiting patiently as you lean forwards to press a kiss to his pretty pink tip

“no teasing, baby,” he taps the blunt head against your lips, “open for me. warm me up like a good girl.”

his voice is smooth and buttery, and it makes you want to listen

you open you maw, rolling your tongue over your bottom lip and waiting for him to feed himself into your mouth

there’s a hand at the back of your head as his tip makes contact with the pink muscle

the hand pets your hair softly as it guides you onto the cock, pushing you further and further down until your mouth is stuffed almost completely full

“breathe through your nose, baby,” san instructs you as he pushes the tip of his cock to the back of your tongue, “come on, pretty girl; i know you know how.”

you don’t need the reminder, having done this plenty of times before, but you still like the guidance he gives you in that low cadence

you like his voice, and the way he tells you what to do because he knows just how much you don’t want to think right now

you close your eyes as you feel your nose brush against the smooth, sticky skin of his lower stomach

his freshly shaved pubes prickle you, but that’s the least of your concerns when your senses are just overloaded by the comfort of your boyfriend

the smell of his cologne mixed with his natural musk settles in your nostrils filling you to the brim with the familiar scent of home

and the way he sits in your mouth, hot and heavy and full makes you melt against his muscular thigh like it’s your own personal pillow

his hand on your head threads its fingers through your roots, fingernails scraping against your scalp in the most comforting way imaginable

a deep sigh leaves your mouth; one of relaxation and contentment

san hears it and feels his body ease into the chair

“good girl,” he hums, “so good for me.”

[w4ndal0ver]

The Art of Submission (1)

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: As a growing author, you're grappling with a frustrating writer's block while trying to craft your next lesbian erotic novel. With a lack of personal experience holding you back, inspiration seems just out of reach. But when a captivating neighbour steps in, offering unexpected support and a tantalizing invitation to explore the depths of desire, you find yourself on a journey that blurs the lines between reality and fiction, leading to a discovery that you definitely weren't expecting.

content warnings: lead up, talk of submission and sadomasochism, flirty touches and conversation.

note: This is the first chapter of a new story that I'm writing, any ideas or inspiration would be appreciated so if you have any ideas feel free to drop them in my requests, other than that buckle in! (I will try to get the next part out as soon as possible)

The Art of Submission - Chapter One 

The soft glow of your laptop illuminated the cluttered desk, your cursor blinking impatiently on an empty document. You stare aimlessly at the screen, your fingers hovering above the keys waiting desperately for inspiration to strike. It had been hours since you sat down, hoping to squeeze out something, but your mind felt trapped and foggy, yet every time you wrote a sentence, you only sank deeper into it. The end result had started to feel completely out of reach.

Your last book had done okay. It wasn’t groundbreaking or a bestseller, but it was just enough to remind you that you could do this. You could write and publish your writing and make some level of a name for yourself in the world of lesbian erotica. Not that it was hard considering the low level media attention that your field rarely gained. The reviews had been mostly kind and the sales had trickled in steadily enough that you were managing to stay afloat, but nowhere near the level of success that you first imagined when you wrote your first novel. 

Your apartment is a mess, the evidence of your creative block scattered pointlessly across the room. Empty coffee mugs crowded your desk, some still holding the cold remnants of yesterday's caffeine-fueled desperation. You’d also not left the apartment in days, time becoming a blur of restless nights and sluggish mornings, avoiding stepping outside. You found it was easier to stay here, trapped within the confines of your own thoughts, hoping something would come to you. 

You lean back in your chair, groaning in frustration. You thought about getting up and attacking the massive pile of laundry that had sat abandoned in the corner for days, but you quickly pushed that aside, realising that there was no point until you at least got another page written. The cursor was blinking furiously at you and you felt yourself going slightly insane. You wanted to smash your head into the keyboard, but instead you imagined yourself doing it which brought a small smile to your lips. 

It was at this moment that a sharp knock sounded at the door, you spin in your chair, frowning as you try to glance over at the entrance to the apartment. You wracked your brain trying to remember if you’d ordered something, but you couldn’t work it out and you knew you definitely wasn’t expecting company. You push yourself out of the chair with a deflated sigh, stretching your legs out as you go towards the door. The knock came again, firmer this time. Whoever it was, they weren’t planning on leaving. 

Shuffling to the door, you don’t bother to smooth the wisps of your hair or fix the crumples in your shift, you just swung it open. 

“Hey, I hope I’m not intruding, but I thought you could use a break.”

You blink in shock, momentarily stunned. Wanda stood in your doorway, her familiar yet distant neighbour from across the hall. You knew her as the woman who you occasionally exchange small talk with in the corridor, but there she was holding a bottle of wine like she’d been planning this all along. Her reddish-brown hair flowed over her shoulders, perfectly catching the dimming light of the room, the colours of her striped blouse almost too cheerful for the cluttered mess that she would soon walk into. 

“I can basically hear your sighs from across the wall. Writer's block?” Wanda smiled, her green eyes warm but with a hint of darkness behind them, as if she knew something that you didn’t. She stepped further inside, her presence filling the small apartment yet you didn’t move to stop her, you didn’t feel the need to. 

“Yeah no of course, come on in.” You say, brows furrowed in confusion. You hadn’t told anyone that you were trying to write again, come to think of it, you hadn’t even told her that you were a writer in the first place. Suddenly, your cheeks flushed pink in the realisation that she knew who you were. 

Wanda set the bottle down on the counter, next to a half empty cup. The sound of it landing felt louder than it should, cutting through the quiet tension that was arising around the pair of them. 

“You’ve been in here too long, I thought wine might be a good excuse to step away from the screen for a bit.” Wanda spoke with a caring tone beneath her soft voice, yet you found it unsettling in how she acted so naturally, offering up solutions to problems that you hadn’t even told her about. 

Wanda always seemed to have a way of appearing when you least expected it, offering little moments of relief, like that time she helped carry groceries up the stairs. She was friendly, sure, but there was an edge to her friendliness. A knowing look, like she was always a step ahead of you, just waiting for the right moment to weave her way into your life. You didn’t know why, but you weren’t exactly complaining about it. 

“You know, I’ve read some of your stuff.” There it was, you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. Your eyes dart to Wanda’s face, as if you were searching for any hint of a joke but instead you’re met with a calm, confident smile. That wasn’t what you were expecting. You’d always presumed that your audience was horny teenage girls, but Wanda was a mind-blowingly gorgeous woman, the exact opposite of who she was expecting. Besides that, your books lived in a cosy corner of the erotic fiction world, usually flying under the radar, definitely not the type of thing a neighbour casually brings up over wine. 

“You have?” You ask, trying to sound casual but your voice comes out a little more strained than intended. You walk around the kitchen counter where Wanda had perched herself, your hands almost shaking from the unexpected social encounter. You reach into the cupboard, finding two wine glasses and placing them down between the two of you. 

“Mhm.” Wanda leans against the counter, an almost playful spark in her eye, “You’re good. The way you write about submission, it’s real, raw. It’s incredible.” 

You feel your cheeks warm up, unsure on how to respond. This was the first piece of praise you’d received from inside your own kitchen. You felt your pulse quicken, the fact that Wanda had read those words, the intimate fantasies that you’d put into your stories was making this situation way more intimate than deemed necessary. 

You literally were stuck in a state of speechlessness, but Wanda was acting like she expected this. She lets you stand with your back against the counter opposite her, fiddling with the ends of your hair while she pulls up a stool. “Corkscrew?” 

“Oh yeah, of course.” As you turned you wanted to slap yourself, why were no words coming out, you are absolutely embarrassing yourself, yet the redhead was still gleaming at you as if you were adding something to the interaction. You rummage through your drawers to find what you needed before handing it over to her. 

“You know, when I first picked up one of your books I wasn’t sure what to expect.” She chuckled, tilting her head thoughtfully as she worked on opening up the bottle. “But then, well, I couldn’t put it down. Dangerous stuff.”

This time you manage a small laugh, still processing the idea of Wanda - the beautiful and put-together woman from across the hall - curled up reading the things you’d written. “I guess it’s not what most people expect from their neighbours.” Once again you’d tried so hard to sound casual that your voice was wavering in response. 

“Well maybe we just don’t know our neighbours as well as we think we do.” With that, she pulled the cork from the bottle and filled up the two glasses, leaning in a little closer as a smile grew into a smirk. 

You glance down at her as you reach for the glass, “I never really imagined someone like you reading my books you know.” You say sheepishly, taking a sip of the wine hoping to mask the nerves that were creeping up your spine. 

Wanda raises an eyebrow, her smirk more prominent now. “Someone like me?”

You shrug, avoiding her gaze as you fiddle with the stem of your glass. “You know, my audience is usually different. Younger maybe.”

She chuckles softly at your response, “Are you saying I’m too old for erotic fiction?” Her tone is teasing, yet there's a glint in her eye that makes your palms sweat. Her comment about submission still lingers in the air, your cheeks continually growing warmer. 

“No! No, I just-” You stammer, flustered by how casually she was controlling this conversation, “I didn’t think you’d be into, you know, that kind of thing.” Your voice is desperately pathetic and all you can do is smile shyly, trying to lighten the tension that was twisting in your chest. 

Wanda takes a slow slip from her glass, her eyes never once leaving yours. “Don’t assume you know what I’m into,” she comments, voice soft but full of unspoken meaning. There's that look again, the one that says she knows more than she lets on. “But seriously, I thought your writing was refreshing. You don’t hold back and that's what makes it compelling.”

You feel the blush rise again, her praise catching you off guard. “Thanks, I guess.” You mumble, feeling a little more exposed than you’d like. 

She waves a hand in the air, brushing off the awkwardness as she crosses her leg over the other. “I could tell you were stuck though,” She adds, swiftly changing the topic with a casual flick of her wrist. “So I figured I’d rescue you from yourself for a bit.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, “Rescue me?”

She nods, her eyes twinkling. “I’ve been hearing you pace around for days, It’s not hard to guess you’ve got yourself into a block.” 

You can’t help but laugh, the conversation switching to something that was making you more comfortable to talk about. “Yeah, something like that. I’ve been staring at that god stupid screen for hours.” 

Wanda shakes her head, mock disapproval on her face. “That’s no way to get inspired, sometimes you just need to step away.” She gestures to the wine and the dim, cosy lighting of the room. “This is your moment to relax.” 

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight on your chest lighten ever so slightly. “I guess I have been driving myself crazy.” This would usually be an overstep in a first proper conversation, but the curious look behind Wanda’s eyes made you feel like she was making you say all of this, like she was dragging the vulnerability out of you. 

Wanda smiles at your openness, a knowing, almost secretive smile as she lifts her glass to her lips again. “There's a reason they say inspiration strikes when you least expect it, maybe you just need to stop expecting it.”

The laughs were more relaxed now, “Oh, is that how it works?” You tease playfully, finally getting to a point where your nerves have stilled out. You could feel the tension in your body loosen just a little, but Wanda’s gaze still never faded.

She grins at your response, swirling the wine around in her glass. “Well sometimes it helps to just let go.” Her eyes sparkling as she watches you. “So what’s this book about anyway? What's got your pretty little head in a spin?”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure how to respond. There's no easy way to explain what you’re writing without dipping into something personal and intimate. But the way Wanda is watching you so intently, waiting, you decide to just go for it. You’re thinking maybe talking about it will help you sort out what’s been blocking you. 

You clear your throat, and look down at the glass in your hands. It’s, uh well, it's another one in the same genre as the others.”

Wanda cocks her head at you, leaning in again. “Mhm, go on.” She pulls out the stool next to her, tapping on the top of it. You smile in the safeness of her space, walking round the counter and sitting down next to her. 

“It’s about sadomasochism actually. I’m trying to explore that dynamic, the balance between pleasure and pain, trust and submission.” You feel your face flush, realising that there's no backing out now. This is supported by Wanda’s lips curling into an all too well knowing smile. 

“So you’re digging into the darker side of submission? That’s bold.”

You nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah it’s more about the psychological aspect of it - how it feels to surrender completely to someone else but it's hard to get it to feel real rather than just something for someone to get off on.”

There's a brief pause, both of you deep in thought, but you can feel Wanda’s gaze like a weight on your skin. Her eyes darken, just for a moment, as she processes your words. “Sounds intense.” She murmurs, her voice dropping a little lower. 

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to break the tension that you’d created. “Yeah well it’s not exactly an easy thing to write about. I want to portray it with respect.” 

The redhead has now turned in her chair to face you completely head on, her head tilted as she rolls her lips together. “Maybe that’s because you’re overthinking it.” She pauses, then adds, almost as an afterthought, “Or maybe because you haven’t experienced it enough yourself.” 

Your breath catches in your throat at her suggestion and you can’t hold her stare anymore, quickly glancing away with a small cough. “I- Well I’ve written about it plenty.”

She chuckles gently at your answer, her tone life but her words heavy with meaning. “It’s not quite the same thing though is it?” Wanda’s fingers gently brush against yours as she reaches for the wine bottle to refill her glass. The touch is light, fleeting, but she doesn’t pull her hand away immediately. Instead her fingers linger just long enough to make you wonder if it was an accident or something more deliberate. 

You attempt to laugh it off, but your voice falters slightly. “I guess not.”

She meets your eyes again, her gaze almost daring, “You know, sometimes the best way to get through the writer's block is to immerse yourself in the subject matter.”

You swallow hard, praying that she didn’t hear the gulp that erupted in the back of your throat. The air between you had grown thicker than before. “Yeah I’ve heard that before.”

She smiles, leaning just a little closer, her arm brushing against yours as she picks up her glass. “So what’s tripping you up? The emotional stuff, or you know the physical details.”

The way she’s looking at you, so calm yet so confident. It’s like she’s pulling the words out of you without you even realising it. “Both. It’s hard to get the balance right, making the dynamic feel believable.”

Wanda nods thoughtfully, biting the tip of her finger as she indulges herself into your problem. “Have you thought about how you’re building the dynamic between them?” She shifts closer and in the process her knee scrapes past yours under the lip of the counter top. You’re hyper aware of every small movement now and it's impossible to be an accident. “Like what does submission look like to you? What does it feel like in the story?”

You blink, caught off guard by the directness of her question. “God, I don’t know, It's like surrender, like when you trust someone enough to give them complete control.” You pick up your glass again, taking a massive chug in order to keep your hands steady. “It’s like you know they won’t hurt you, even when you’re in your most vulnerable state.”

She nods understandingly, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. “Okay so what does that look like physically, how are you going to write that?”

Your pulse is going crazy now, you’re convinced that Wanda can hear your heartbeat quicken from just her words. “It’s about touch,” You say, your voice almost wobbling, “The way they respond to each other. The way a person can take control with just a look or a gesture.”

As you speak, Wanda’s lips turn up into a smirk, her gaze still unwavering. She’s so close to you now that the warmth of her body is radiating off of your skin. Her hand rests slightly above your knee, the touch intimate, sending a shockwave up the back of your spine. “Show me.” 

Your breath hitches, heart racing as her fingers begin to trace a small circle against your leg. The motion is almost absentminded, yet it feels nothing but deliberate. She maintains her eye contact, her expression open but charged with a spark of something playful and dangerously enticing. 

You freeze, caught in a whirlwind of sensations as the room feels smaller now, the air thick with unspoken tension. You know exactly what she’s suggesting without her having to say it.

You open your mouth to respond, but immediately close it, earning a small chuckle from the redhead. “If you can describe it so well, you shouldn’t be stuck here right.” The dangerousness in her tone makes the words evaporate and you become acutely aware of the heat radiating from her body, the way her thumb brushes softly against your skin, drawing you in deeper. 

Wanda pulls back just slightly, but her hand lingers where it is, a gentle weight that feels both reassuring and electric. Her eyes lock back with yours, searching, waiting for your answer. “It’s okay.” She whispers, her voice soft yet commanding, as if she's completely in control in this delicate moment, “I’m just trying to help you get… unstuck.”

You can’t look away from her, caught in her captivating gaze. Her confidence is wrapping itself around you, urging you to step closer to the edge of your own desires. The space between you is charged, the possibilities suddenly hanging thick in the air as you contemplate what she could do next.

“Have you thought about drawing from your own experiences?” Wanda questions, still attempting to find a solution to a problem you couldn’t tell whether she was actively helping or not. “You know, sometimes personal stories can ignite that spark of inspiration.”

You swallow hard, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. “I wish I could.” You admit, your pulse is still racing from her touch that she has now released, yet her body still remains just as close. “I’ve never really had anything that intimate.”

A playful glint flickered within the green of her eyes, her gaze sharpening. “Really? Nothing? Not even a fleeting moment that made your heart race?” She tilts her head slightly, studying your face as if searching for unspoken truths buried inside of you. 

You shake your head, feeling the embarrassment paint itself across your face. “Not like that, I mean I’ve had relationships, but nothing that’s ever made me feel like I was completely out of control, everythings always felt so safe.”

“Safe can be good, but isn’t there something thrilling about stepping outside of your comfort zone?” Her face leans closer to you once more, the feeling of her leg permanently resting against yours now. 

You nod, the thought resonating with you, but you’re still hesitant. “I just don’t know how to write something so raw and believable if I haven’t experienced it myself.”

Her expression softens, shifting her weight slightly. Her gaze drops to your lips for the briefest moment before locking back onto your eyes. “Kiss me,” She whispers, the command both shocking and exhilarating. 

Your heart races, a jolt of electricity coursing through you at her words. You can’t look away, caught in the depths of her stare. The space between you feels impossibly small, filled with a tension that pulses with possibility. “Just one kiss,” She adds, her voice a sultry invitation. “It might just unlock everything you’ve been trying to write.”

With her eyes gleaming into yours, the world around you fades into the background leaning only the two of you in this moment. You’re drawn to her, every instinct telling you to surrender to the rush of desire coursing through your veins. You lean in, heart racing as you connect your lips together. The kiss is soft at first, a small tentative exploration, but it quickly deepens, igniting something almost primal within you. Wanda’s hand slides from your knee to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if she wants to consume every part of you. You pull back, the softness of her lips still lingering against yours. You’re panting slightly, taking in the depths of what you just happened. 

Wanda’s eyes gleam with satisfaction, her finger touching her lip and you can’t help but smile widely at her. “See.” She murmurs, her tone low and teasing. “Just a taste of what it feels like to let go.”

[p0orbaby]

Do Not Disturb (Unless You're Drunk and Nosy)

summary: privacy? you wish

warnings: suggestive, alcohol, literally everyone being a little shit, angry ale (hot)

a/n: may or may not be inspired by real events…

word count: 1.6k

-

You always thought getting walked in on would be, you know, mortifying. Like, your face turns tomato red, you start stammering, and then you spend the rest of your life avoiding the person who caught you with your pants down—literally. But it turns out that, in reality, it’s way worse than that.

Here’s the thing: Alexia Putellas is perfect. You know this, because you’ve spent an unhealthy amount of time cataloging her perfections. Her perfectly toned legs that could crush a coconut. Her perfectly sharp jawline that could carve Mount Rushmore. Her perfectly soft lips that could silence an entire stadium with a single kiss. And when you’re drunk at a friends house party, it’s easy to forget that this perfection isn’t something you should casually indulge in right now, in a random upstairs bedroom, while everyone else is downstairs playing beer pong and comparing their World Cup tattoos.

But when Alexia grabs your hand and drags you away from the chaos, her eyes all dark and dangerous, any rational thought you have dribbles out of your ears like last week’s gossip. So here you are, in this bed—well, on this bed, because you didn’t even make it all the way under the covers—desperately trying to remember how to breathe while Alexia’s tongue is doing things that would make a priest reconsider his career choices.

You’re about to reach the kind of nirvana people write songs about when the door slams open. Not opens—slams. As if someone was just waiting for the right moment to ruin your life.

“Oh my God,” someone says in a tone that suggests they’ve just witnessed a murder, except, of course, that would be preferable.

Alexia’s head snaps up so fast you’re surprised she doesn’t get whiplash, and you have about two seconds to see the wild panic in her eyes before her entire body goes rigid like a cat that’s just been sprayed with water. She’s still on top of you, which would be hot if you weren’t currently wondering whether you’re legally obligated to register as a sex offender for being caught like this.

And who’s standing there in the doorway? None other than Jenni, who you’re pretty sure was voted “Most Likely to Show Up Uninvited” in high school. She’s holding a half-empty bottle of tequila in one hand and a phone in the other, like she’s been documenting the worst possible moments of the night, and this one’s going to top the list.

“Holy shit,” Jenni says, blinking as if she’s trying to reboot her brain. It doesn’t work, because the next thing out of her mouth is, “Is this a private party, or can anyone join?”

That’s it. You’re going to die. This is how you die. Not from the embarrassment but because Alexia is going to murder you both. You can see it in her eyes. She’s doing some very fast maths in her head, and it ends with Jenni’s body floating down a river somewhere.

“Close the door,” Alexia snaps, and it’s the first thing she’s said in what feels like hours. Her voice is sharp enough to cut glass. Jenni just stares at her for a moment, then at you��still half-naked, because of course you are—and then at Alexia again, like she’s debating whether the smart move is to leave or to stay and further ruin your life.

But of course, Jenni’s never been one for smart moves.

“Oh, no, no, no,” she says, waving her tequila bottle around like it’s a magic wand that’s going to make this situation less awkward. “This is gold. I’ve got to tell the others.” She turns around and yells down the stairs, “Hey, guys! Get up here, quick!”

You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to crawl under the bed and maybe live there forever with the dust bunnies and whatever sock the last person to use this room lost. But you don’t get the chance to do any of that, because Alexia has now flipped the fuck out, and she’s off the bed and across the room in a flash, slamming the door shut with enough force to rattle the windows.

“Are you insane?” Alexia hisses at Jenni, who looks like she’s genuinely surprised that Alexia isn’t finding this whole situation hilarious. “Do you have a death wish?”

Jenni, who’s clearly never learned to read the room, just grins, leaning against the doorframe like she’s auditioning for the role of “World’s Biggest Pain in the Ass.” “Hey, don’t get mad at me. You’re the one who decided to get frisky in someone else’s house”

You’re still lying there, half-dressed, your shirt tangled up with some lacy thing that definitely belongs to Alexia, watching the two of them bicker like you’re not even here. You could say something, of course. You could try to diffuse the situation, maybe crack a joke or two, but that would require actual brain function, and right now, all you’ve got is the mental equivalent of elevator music.

Alexia’s about to bite Jenni’s head off—probably literally—when, as if the universe wasn’t satisfied with your current level of humiliation, there’s a knock on the door.

“Jenni? What’s going on?” You recognise that voice. It’s Mapi, followed by a snicker from Patri and what sounds like Ingrid trying and failing to shush them. Great. Just great. Now you’ve got an audience.

Before anyone can react, Jenni swings the door open with the enthusiasm of someone who’s about to introduce a sold-out concert, and your teammates spill into the room like they’ve been rehearsing this all night.

“What the—” Mapi starts, then stops dead when she sees you, then Alexia, and then your clothes all over the floor like some kind of chaotic breadcrumb trail. Her eyebrows shoot up so high they practically disappear into her hairline. “Oh, wow”

There’s a moment of silence that’s so uncomfortable you could bottle it and sell it to masochists. You’re pretty sure you’re about to melt into the bed and become one with the mattress. Meanwhile, Patri has the audacity to wolf whistle, which earns her a glare from Alexia that could stop a freight train.

“So,” Ingrid says, doing a terrible job at hiding her amusement. “This is…unexpected”

“Unexpected?” Mapi echoes, looking at Ingrid like she’s just suggested that the earth is flat. “This is fucking hilarious”

Jenni’s practically doubled over with laughter now, leaning on Mapi for support, which only sets her off too. Pretty soon, all three of them are giggling like schoolgirls who’ve just found out their teacher’s dating the P.E. teacher.

Alexia is standing there, jaw clenched, probably wondering if anyone would notice if she threw them all out the window. You, meanwhile, have reached a state of embarrassment that transcends space and time. You’re floating above the situation, looking down at your life and wondering where it all went so horribly, horribly wrong.

“Can we not make a big deal out of this?” you ask, even though you know it’s hopeless. “It’s not like we were…” You trail off, realizing that there’s no good way to end that sentence. Not like you were what? Sorting laundry? Rearranging the furniture?

“Having sex?” Patri supplies helpfully, still grinning like she’s just won the lottery. “You totally were. We walked in at the good part, didn’t we?”

Alexia makes a strangled sound in the back of her throat, which is probably the only thing that stops her from committing actual homicide. “Out. All of you. Now”

But no one moves. Because why would they? They’re having the time of their lives. Jenni’s already pulling out her phone, probably to tweet something like “Just walked in on the most awkward team bonding experience ever #FML”

“We’re not going to let you live this down, you know,” Mapi says, her smirk so wide it’s a wonder her face doesn’t split in half. “This is going to be the story we tell at every team event from now until the end of time”

“Your kids are going to hear about this,” Patri adds, not even bothering to hide her amusement. “Hell, your grandkids. This is legendary”

You’re going to need therapy after this. Maybe a lot of therapy. But, honestly, that’s future you’s problem. Right now, you just want them to leave so you can salvage whatever dignity you have left and maybe finish what you started with Alexia—assuming, of course, that this hasn’t killed the mood entirely.

Finally, because even she knows when enough is enough, Jenni straightens up and nods toward the door. “Alright, alright. We’ll give you two lovebirds some privacy.” She winks at Alexia, who looks like she might actually be considering taking up a new sport just to avoid ever having to see Jenni again. “But don’t take too long. We’re going to need the play-by-play downstairs”

With that, they finally—finally—file out of the room, still snickering and whispering like they’ve just uncovered the juiciest gossip of the century. As the door closes behind them, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Well,” you say, turning to look at Alexia, who’s now standing in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. “That went as good as expected”

She gives you a look that could freeze hell, but then, after a moment, she sighs and shakes her head, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “We are never doing this again”

“Sex?” you ask, and the horrified expression that crosses her face makes you burst out laughing. “In someone else’s house,” you clarify, still giggling. “I think that’s a solid rule”

She rolls her eyes but then moves back toward the bed, a mischievous glint in her eyes that tells you maybe the night isn’t entirely ruined after all. “Well, we’re here now,” she says, climbing onto the mattress and pulling you toward her. “Might as well make the most of it”

[anundyingfidelity]

FREE PASS — Sam Winchester

Summary: Two men appear at your office to inspect a body from a lady who died under mysterious conditions. As a forensic, you are not letting strangers inside the morgue, but one of them is going too far to get your permission.

Pairing: Undercover!Sam Winchester x female reader.

Word count: 1.6k.

Warnings: smut, office sex, against the wall sex lol, sexual tension, p in v, unprotected sex, the dirty stuff, Dean being a dick (i love him he's a jerk).

GEN MASTERLIST!

taglist is here!

“I said no.”

“If you could just give a call to our boss he’ll–”

“Sorry, I need proper documentation so you can check that up,” you repeated yourself for the tenth time as you took some piles of documents from your desk to save them into the archive.

Dean, undercover along with Sam for this new case, sighed, trying not to lose it right there. You were so insistent on getting those damn documents signed before they could inspect the dead woman’s body, who got reported as having all her blood drained with no trace. Why wasn’t this working? They’ve done it hundreds of times already, and not even his personal charms were enough to let them get inside.

“So, my partner and I really need to see this. We know there’s another woman that died, same conditions, in less than twenty-four hours after this one was found,” Sam intervened and interrupted Dean’s thoughts.

You looked surprised as to why they knew about the other body as well.

“I don’t recall mentioning the next one they’re bringing in for an autopsy,” you replied, eyes falling on Sam as you crossed your arms on your chest.

Dean observed your gaze attentively falling on his brother, your demeanor seemed to change abruptly every time Sam talked. Even your voice sounded different.

“How do you know that?” you asked, ignoring Dean’s presence.

“We know because we’re authority,” Sam sternly said.

“Well, I am the authority here. So you can either leave or bring the document from your boss.”

“Of course, doctor,” Dean interrupted your stare contest, smiling as best as he could given the irritating feeling you just caused him. “We’re bringing that up soon, thank you for your time.”

With that, both of them left your office.

“Damn, she was annoying,” Dean said, saving up his badge on his jacket.

“Yeah, but I think I have an idea,” Sam agreed as they made their way to the car.

“So what? You’re gonna sleep with her until she agrees?” Dean chuckled, but when he noticed Sam’s eyes illuminating, he stopped grinning. “Oh…”

Sam went back to the morgue late at night. He hoped you were gone to inspect the bodies and get the reports, meanwhile Dean stayed back at the motel room to do some more research.

‘She’s a bitch’ Dean had said before his brother left, you really had hurted the charm in him. Sam found it kind of funny, though. Dean was so used to ladies swooning for him, and there were a couple of times those cheesy lines and non-chalant flirting had worked in tough times like this, but you weren’t buying it. So sneaking in was by far the best option he had.

Before starting the inspection on the bodies and making sure there was no one at the place, Sam made his way to your office to check on the autopsy files. The lights were still on but it was empty. He searched the last files, skimming and scanning information before taking pictures with his phone. He was almost done, saving them up in place when the door opened.

“Agent?”

God, he was so screwed.

Sam finished closing the drawer and turned back to get a look at you, standing at the door frame clearly mad at him.

“I hope you have the document I clearly asked for earlier today.”

“Uhm, this is very-”

“There’s nothing funny going on here, agent Harrison. Is that your real name anyway?” you asked as you approached him, until you were just mere inches away from each other.

He smiled as best as he could, ignoring your last question. Dean was right, you were a bitch. A bold one.

“You don’t understand, doctor. We can’t keep waiting for a piece of paper to make an inspection,” Sam replied as politely as he could.

“Probably, but it is protocol. I ain’t letting that slip away and risk my job just because two assholes are trying to hit on me to get access to the morgue.”

“We’re risking getting more people killed under this same pattern. Tell me, do you even care about them dying? We need to do something now, doctor, before it’s too late,” Sam started to raise his voice, but not to the point where he could sound angry. He was just being authoritative, exactly like you were with both of them before.

You flinched slightly when he raised his voice. He has started to think of the way you would react differently with him than with Dean. You clearly didn’t like his brother, but Sam was another story. Dean had obviously noticed that, and now Sam was seeing it too. Whatever you were feeling right now, could be cut by a sharp knife. Dean’s not so subtle idea was suddenly good, not that he didn’t think you were hot being all bossy and bitchy with them. He decided to give it a try.

Sam pulled you quickly for a desperate kiss. He swallowed a sweet moan of yours against his mouth, and towered you with his broad figure until you stepped back and you hit the cold wall behind you.

“What are you doing?” you asked between breaths when the kiss was over.

“Convincing you.”

He waited for an answer, but he got everything he needed to continue when you began to take off his jacket desperately, as if anyone could catch you inside the office in the middle of the night. Sam attacked your lips again, the kiss growing hot and wet as both explored your bodies, tracing patterns over your clothes you both were desiring to get rid of.

Sam barely could get your blouse unbuttoned and discharged your trousers after his shirt was gone. Your hand stroking his cock under his pants after unbuckling them, his lips sucking on the skin of your neck and long fingers finding your wet slit over your panties. You moaned, feeling one of his digits curling inside your walls, his breath hitching once your palm stroked him faster. You pulled him for a kiss, tangling your free hand on his long, soft hair as he grunted against your mouth. Both tasting each other’s sweet noises and savoring the heat building up in between.

He lifted you, your legs around his waist, feeling his hard cock pressing against your cunt. He just pulled your panties aside, bare chest pressing against your own still covered by your bra. He lined up with your entrance and you gasped, feeling the tip of his cock splitting you. He became so eager, so needy, he didn’t give a shit to undress you properly, he got what he needed between your legs. You looked so hot like this, squirming and moaning as he filled you up completely.

“God, you’re so big- oh, fuck!” you breathed out.

Sam grinned. “So fucking tight… And cockdrunk already.”

He slammed his hips and quickly found the perfect pace to fuck you right through it.

He held you tightly against the wall, your pussy taking him so perfectly he would just cum right there. The quietness of the office dissipated. Moans, grunts and the obscene noises of skin against skin filled the place. Your hand buried on his scalp, pulling his hair just a little, feeling embarrassedly close to your orgasm. You couldn’t help yourself. Ever since the moment they walked in, he caught your attention, and you spent the whole afternoon daydreaming of a good fuck either way.

Sam pounded harshly, hips stuttering and giving harsh thrusts as he felt his climax building up, his cock twitching when your walls began to spasm around his length, fucking you over and over, until he spilled inside you. Soon, you followed and came hard as his finger rubbed your clit slowly. You pulled his hair harshly once you reached heaven, and he nipped your neck, grunting on your skin. You milked him completely until his thrusts were slower, and eventually stopped, still buried balls deep inside your pussy, pulsing and sensitive from the best orgasm you had in a very long time.

You remained there, legs tangled around his waist as you softened on his arms. His hot cum dripped down your thighs, and you wanted nothing more than to stay there forever.

When Sam cooled down from his high, he pulled out and helped you remain on your feet, your legs were still wobbly and he took some pride in your state. You shared an accomplice stare, and you knew you got yourself into some trouble.

“So… you still need my reports and check the bodies, right?”

Sam slammed an envelope on the table with a thud. Dean, looking away from the laptop, noticed a proud smirk on his brother’s face.

“Really? You banged the forensic?” he asked with a teasing voice and laughed. “Wow.”

“What?” Sam said, getting annoyed by his childish behavior.

“I knew she was eye-fucking you since we entered that office. Guess I wasn’t her type,” Dean got on his feet, taking the envelope. “Anyway, that is a pretty reasonable answer as to why she was acting so hostile with me, specifically. Good job, Sammy.”

Dean patted Sam’s shoulder proudly, like a father congratulating his son for winning a high school baseball game, and then walked away to lie on his bed, taking out the copy of the reports.

Sam would’ve liked for Dean to actually ask questions about the case, instead he spent the next hour or so teasing him for fucking his way to get access to a morgue. He took out his phone when a text came, ignoring Dean’s disgusting question of how sex was.

We have a new one. What the hell is going on?

He might have found a new ally on you for this.

Sam Winchester taglist:

@onlyangel-444 @feyresqueen @drasticemotions @stoneyggirl2 @whothefvckami

[angelic--kitty]

i can't believe tungle.hellsite won't let me submit my cooking to you pookie :(

dom!ceo arlecchino x sub!intern reader

warnings: smut (minors/ageless blogs dni), wlw content, power dynamics (ceo and intern)

a/n: i got you, i'm uploading it here. enjoy some delicious arlecchino x reader thoughts from bun, everyone ♡ and happy belated birthday, arlecchino ❤️

you're a brand new intern at a massive fortune 500 type company. there were a limited number of positions available and you already had to compete with the other fresh faced graduates just to interview here, and only a small number of you were hired on. despite being sold on the opportunity to "break into the industry with fresh new ideas" you mostly spent your day running around at the behest of disgruntled seniors- retrieving coffee and lunch orders, delivering documents to other branches, and taking notes during meetings- all largely thankless tasks. it's clear you're seen less as a potential new coworker and just another intern that'll be chewed up and spit out in a month. but you do your work, show up early and stay late to better your chances at getting the boss's attention.

and that you do.

despite your best intentions, you're clearly not the best intern; messed up and mixed up orders, misdelivery of correspondence, it was clear you were trying your best, yet you couldn't quite catch a break.

so the boss pulls you into her office, having you sit across from her desk. your head bowed in shame, not wanting to meet her gaze, instead staring down at the nameplate on her desk

_"arlecchino, chief executive officer"_

surely you're going to be fired, no amount of genuine intention or passion for the field could save you now.

she tells you you're not cut out to be an intern here, a sentiment you unfortunately agree with. and then, she offers you a different position... one that would mean no more running around the office trying not to spill coffee, or spending hours shredding papers for the seniors who haven't bothered to remember your name.

one that will technically have you working longer hours, but you were already coming early and staying late to prove yourself, so surely that won't be much of an issue. arlecchino herself was usually the first to arrive and last to leave anyway, so what better way to earn your salary here than spend those hours in her office, warming her cock?

of course, that's not all you're going to be doing. in between her own work and smoke breaks she does take a moment or two to push you up against the desk and give you a good fucking before resuming her work.

she'll keep you under her desk, patting your pretty little head while your lips are wrapped around her cock, telling you to keep quiet when one of your fellow coworkers stops by her office. she'll have you bent over that desk, challenging you to not make a sound as her hand assaults your cunt, wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you while she's on a conference call, knowing even the smallest sound is going to be heard by everyone on the line.

officially, you've been "promoted" to her personal assistant. odd, considering she never expressed a need for an assistant in the past, always preferring to do her work herself. but you know exactly what she means by that title. to keep up appearances, she still has you doing some basic assistant tasks not unlike your intern duties. why don't you go fetch her a coffee, sweetheart? don't worry, she'll keep your panties here in her desk until you get back. be a good girl and take some notes for her during the board meeting, if you can concentrate that is, given how she's fiddling with that vibe she stuffed inside you.

there's a big conference happening overseas, and she'll have to take a business trip out for it. good thing the company pays for the nicest hotels in the area, and how thoughtful that she was able to bring you along for the trip. sure she'll be dragging you along to boring business meetings, with She’s dragging you along to boring business meetings, your instructions being to sit quietly and nod along, take some notes, and don’t give away the fact that she made you cum in the elevator on the way up here.

the more you behave, the more she rewards you, and the further she starts to push things. you handled that meeting well, now let's see if you can handle sitting through another without your panties and her cum slowly leaking out of you. no need for notes at this meeting, but you still need to look busy, so why don't you write down some ideas for what she should do to you once you're back at the hotel? the flight home is booked an entire day after the conference and all the meetings have ended, just so she has some extra time to fuck you stupid before you two leave; a whole extra day with no obligations, dedicated to you naked in that bed and her belt wrapped around your neck like a collar.

when you get back to the office the next day, your legs are still trembling like a newborn lamb. "poor thing doesn’t do so well on planes" she’d tell anyone who asked, as if you two weren’t riding first class with her hand shoved up your cunt a majority of the flight

[reiderwriter]

Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Gojo x Reader

“But it’s gotta be youuuuuu… please help me practice Reverse Cursed Technique!!!” Gojo practically wailed, clasping his hands together in exaggerated desperation.

You rolled your eyes, not even bothering to look up from the stack of papers your beloved teacher had dumped on you. “Don’t be so dramatic. Just ask Shoko.”

But of course, Gojo wasn’t one to take no for an answer. Ever since the previous mission together, he’d been clinging to you like some sort of overgrown, overpowered barnacle. At first, you thought it was just a phase, something he’d grow bored of once his fleeting interest inevitably wandered elsewhere. But days had turned into weeks, and his persistence was beginning to wear you thin.

Even Geto, his so-called partner in crime, refused to help. “If it’s Gojo, the only way he’ll stop is if he wants to.” Geto had said with a shrug, completely unbothered.

You sighed as you walked to school, clutching the folder of important documents you needed to submit to the principal. The last thing you needed was Gojo making a scene today of all days.

“Morning!” a voice chirped behind you, entirely too loud for the early hour.

You startled, nearly dropping your papers. Of course, it was none other than Satoru Gojo, the bane of your existence. “The heck? Why are you on this train? This route isn’t even near your place!”

He grinned, the epitome of shamelessness. “I was following you~.”

He’s joking. Right?

“Huh?” You narrowed your eyes, trying to read his expression, but those crystalline blue eyes of his were as impossible to decipher as ever. There was something about the way they sparkled, equal parts playfulness and something darker that made you want to run the other way.

“If you’ve got something to say, just spit it out.” you muttered, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how unnerved you were.

He paused, as if savoring the moment, then leaned in closer. “Teach me how to use Reverse—”

Your hand flew up, clamping over his mouth before he could finish. People were starting to stare, and you could already feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “Fine, fine...” you whispered harshly. “Just… let me finish my job first.”

“Yay~!” He suddenly wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug so tight it nearly knocked the wind out of you.

You recoiled instantly, shoving him away. “Cut it out! You know I hate that.”

Gojo just laughed, unfazed. “You’re so mean to me. I don’t get why you don’t like me more, y’know? I’m pretty lovable.”

You groaned “That’s debatable.”

But as much as you tried to brush him off, the day didn’t end there. Gojo was relentless, following you around like a shadow. No matter where you went, he was there, laughing, teasing, and always keeping just a little too close for comfort.

By the time you were finished with your work, the sun was already beginning to set. You were exhausted and more than ready to go home when Gojo appeared again, this time leaning against the school gate as if he’d been waiting for you all day.

“Ready to go?” he asked, flashing that infuriatingly perfect smile.

“Go where?” you snapped, glaring at him.

“To practice, of course!” he said, his tone light, but his eyes… his eyes were far too intense. “I mean, you did promise, didn’t you?”

You hesitated. There was something about the way he said it, so casual yet so firm, that sent a shiver down your spine. He wasn’t asking. He was telling.

“Fine” you said reluctantly, hoping that humoring him would make him leave you alone sooner.

But as you followed him to the secluded training grounds, unease began to settle in your chest. The playful Gojo you thought you knew seemed… different now. His smiles lingered a little too long, his laughter echoed a little too loudly, and when he turned to look at you, it felt like he was staring straight through your soul.

“Alright,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Let’s get this over with.”

But Gojo didn’t move. He just stood there, watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“Gojo?” you asked, your unease growing.

And then, he smiled, a smile so sweet it felt almost sinister. “You know...” he began, his voice soft but laced with something unsettling, “I’ve always been good at keeping things I like close.”

Before you could process what he meant, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “And you? You’ve been running around all day, so busy with everyone else. It’s almost like you’re trying to avoid me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” you said, taking a step back.

But he followed, closing the distance again. “I don’t like being ignored.” he murmured, his hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “So why don’t we make a deal? You stay by my side, and I’ll protect you from anything. Sound fair?”

Your heart raced, not from his words but from the realization that you were no longer sure if you had a choice.

And judging by the way Gojo’s grin widened, he knew it too.

The air between you grew thick, an invisible tension wrapping around your chest like a vice. You swallowed hard, unable to look away from Gojo’s gaze, those eyes that seemed to gleam with something far more dangerous than mischief.

“Gojo…” you began, voice shaky but firm. “You’re being weird.”

His grin didn’t falter. If anything, it widened, his head tilting slightly as if you’d just said something amusing. “Weird? Nah, I’m just being honest. I’m a simple guy, you know? When I want something, I don’t stop until I get it.”

The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. You took another step back, but he moved with you, closing the space again. His sheer presence felt suffocating now, as though the very air around you had bent to his will.

“Gojo, this isn’t funny. Just... just stop messing around.”

“I’m not messing around.” His tone was light, but there was an edge to it now, a sharpness that made your pulse race. “I mean, don’t you get it yet? I like you. A lot. Maybe too much.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re the only one who gets it. The only one who doesn’t look at me like I’m untouchable. Like I’m something… other.” His hand reached out again, this time brushing lightly against your arm. “You make me feel human. And I can’t let that go. I won’t.”

The sincerity in his voice should’ve been comforting, but it wasn’t. It was suffocating. Overwhelming. His words dripped with a possessiveness that made your skin crawl.

“Gojo, I’m not-”

He cut you off, his expression shifting in an instant. His smile softened, but his eyes… his eyes burned. “You don’t have to say anything.” he murmured, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath. “Just stay. Stay with me. That’s all I need.”

Your heart was hammering in your chest now, panic rising as you realized you were backed into a corner, both figuratively and literally.

“Gojo, you’re scaring me...” The words spilled out before you could stop them, and for a moment, he froze.

But then he laughed, a soft, almost bitter sound. “Scaring you? That’s the last thing I want.” His hand reached for your cheek, cradling it with a gentleness that belied the storm in his eyes. “I just want you safe. With me. Always.”

You flinched, trying to pull away, but his grip was firm, unyielding. His smile returned, bright and disarming, as if nothing had happened.

“Don’t worry” he said, voice impossibly sweet. “I’ll take care of everything. You’ll understand soon enough.”

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the training grounds, you realized something terrifying: Gojo Satoru didn’t just want you. He needed you. And there was no escape from the man who could bend the very world to his will.

---------------

I just did a photoshoot with my friend as Gojo so I guess I'll use some of the photos for my fics in the future :)))) Bear with me~

[aerinaga]

can i request a paige x dancer on the uconn team

cuz that girl is mine.

paige bueckers x dancer!reader

synopsis: paige watches you teach a class.

note: i’m happy you asked for this, i’m a dancer myself 🫶🏻 actually just got back from training 😙

“baby please, please, please! i wanna watch you teach a class. pretty pleaaaassseeeee.” paige begs at you with her puppy eyes. she was desperate.

she always found you so alluring when she would pass by your team in campus. she always found a way to watch your competitions, she was so downbad.

the both of you met each other through the dorms, the both of you live in the same building.

“okay fine, but please behave okay? my class today is gonna be intense.”

“yes ma’am!” saluting at you.

its been an hour in your class, the studio smelling like sweat. paige was used to it, but damn, dance sweat is worse than basketball sweat. paige just stares at every movement you make, probably from all the ass.

it was time for the final runs, you made a few groups of people to dance together. you had them filmed as well, documenting your work. the studio was the place for hype. whether you knew each other or not, they would cheer their heart out for you.

it was time for your solo run, earning cheers from your students. you see paige get up from her seat, readying her camera. she looked like a proud mom.

you took a deep breath, following the flow of the movements. you were doing the countings in your mind, making sure you were steady. you looked at yourself in the mirror.

it was a you moment. you were the spotlight.

you didn’t realize you finished your choreography not until you heard screams and claps from your students. you gave a big smile, one last thank you before dismissing the class.

you heard paige singing “cuz that girl is mineee.” to your students. it made them giggle, they knew that the both of you were THE couple.

you laugh at paige, seeing her try the moves you were using in your choreography.

“babe, how do you even do that? like the floor part and stuff, my pants would rip. how come yours didn’t?”

you bump her playfully, holding her hand.

“thats why i wear sweatpants or cycling shorts, baby. i love you, thank you for supporting me.”

“always, baby. cuz that girl is miiinnneee.” paige tells you, using her sing song voice.

[velvetyh]

⌜Between Deadlines and Desires⌝

꒰ PAIRING ꒱ colleague!Sangyeon x fem!reader (corporate world; colleague!au) ꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ sangyeon really admires you from afar and respects you. but what happens after you get disrespected at work? ꒰ WORD COUNT ꒱ 7.9k words ꒰ TW ꒱ 18+, reader and Sangyeon are both overworked, reader gets humiliated by her asshole of a boss, the big boss is a misogynist, sex in a public setting (at work), oral (both receiving), fingering, p in v, protected sex (from me, I know, shocking, right?), multiple orgasms (for reader), facial, fluffy end? ꒰ NOTE ꒱ it was supposed to be self-indulged (yeah, the humiliation happened to me but not the rest lol) but since my colleague is now an ass, it's just a basic colleague!au fic! Enjoy!! (I'm gonna ignore the fact that i focused on the wrong colleague at my work since the beginning I'm so dumb) ꒰ REQUESTED ꒱ nope!

୧ ‑‑‑‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑ ‑

The atmosphere at work was quiet, your tall building staring down at the long queue of commuters stuck in traffic for the past two hours. The only sounds disturbing the silence of your floor were your fingers tiredly typing on the keyboard and the scattered manly voices in the conference room on the other end of the corridor, a meeting dragging on well beyond the originally scheduled end time.

Downing the rest of your now cold cup of coffee, you stood up, heels clicking on the floor as you walked past the conference room, the voice of your colleague and your boss mixing with some unfamiliar ones in a heated discussion.

You sighed, the bright red numbers of the digital clock on the wall showing 21:09, reinforcing the exhaustion in your limbs. You tried your best to relieve your eyes from constantly staring at your computer screen without smudging your mascara, which was not easy. You defeatedly shook your head from side to side as you heard your boss arguing with a client for the nth time tonight, his voice suddenly becoming louder as the conference room’s door swung open.

“Yeah, I’ll look if we have it in the archives room,” you recognised the stressed voice of Sangyeon, your colleague, as he closed the door behind him and walked in the opposite direction of the break room.

Once the dishwasher was loaded, you took the same direction as him, ready to return to your desk to clock out and go home. Your shoes clicked again on the tile flooring, the cold light of the archives room spilling into one of the many sinuous corridors that composed the building.

Peeking inside the room, you noticed Sangyeon’s broad back clad in a tight white shirt, his muscles tensing even more as he was rummaging through a binder for some documents.

“Where the fuck is that document,” you heard him mumble, his head snapping to the side as you knocked on the wooden door, your gesture startling him.

“Do you need help with something?” you kindly asked, slowly making your way towards him.

“Y/N? Why are you still here?” he blinked, a file in his hand.

“I had some contracts to proofread and some international clients to call. Do you need help?”

“Yeah, sort of. Do you know if we ever made our American clients sign a new contract last year? I can’t find it,” you quickly looked at the name of the client on the file that he was carrying and nodded.

“I think we did. But that’s not the right binder. You’re looking through the accounting one, you should look through the administrative one,” turning around, Sangyeon watched you crouch down to get the right binder, his eyes remaining a second too long on your ass, your curves enhanced by your tight pencil skirt.

Setting down the binder in front of you, Sangyeon’s figure towering over your shoulder, eyes trying to read the documents you were rapidly skimming through, your hands abruptly stopping and opening the folder once you found what you were looking for.

“Here, it should be that one,” you mumbled and handed him the confidential document with a smile.

“You’re a lifesaver Y/N, I hope you know that,” he pointed a gentle finger in your direction as he walked backwards, a smile decorating his lips as he went back inside the conference room.

Feeling nice enough to help your poor, stressed colleague, you gathered all the papers he got out of the binder and put them back in their initial spots before locking the archives room.  

You had just finished cleaning your desk and prepared your to-do list for the next day when you heard your boss thanking the clients, the voices slowly going to the elevators before disappearing. A frown appeared as you heard the coffee machine in the break room run again.

“Don’t you think it’s a little late to drink another coffee? You’re going to have a heart attack at this rate,” you rested your handbag on the kitchen counter, your remark startling Sangyeon as his drained gaze was fixated on the black liquid dropping into his cup.

“You’re going to give me a heart attack if you keep appearing behind or next to me so suddenly,” he managed to joke and you giggle, a small smile appearing on your face.

His gaze dropped a second on your pretty mouth before going back to look you straight in the eyes.

“Thank you for your help, by the way,” he mumbled, playing with the spoon he had in hand.

“It’s fine, I thought I could help since they were my clients before he arrived and changed everything.”

A new boss meant a restructuring of the different clients and cases between colleagues. Your boss thought you weren’t efficient enough to deal with those people, so he decided to give you some other clients to deal with and let Sangyeon take care of everything.

“I don’t know why he gave them to me,” he stated, dropping a spoonful of sugar in his coffee, “they keep complaining and want you to be in charge again.”

“You should tell them that you are competent enough to take care of their files and will do your best to fulfil the assigned tasks,” you simply shrugged, feeling a rush of pride in your chest at how the clients wanted you instead of Sangyeon as a professional.

“You should really stop with this and maybe go home to wind down,” you pointed at the coffee he had almost finished drinking since you started talking, “it’s not good for you to consume this much caffeine and stay behind this late.”

He shrugged, taking his last sip.

“I don’t have anyone or anything waiting for me at home so it’s better if I just work as much as I can,” you shook your head at his words and patted your blazer, realising that you had forgotten your phone on its charging station on your desk.

“Well I’m exhausted, so I’m going home. See you tomorrow ?” you suggested with a smile, and he nodded, mumbling a small ‘good night’ as his eyes followed the way your hips swayed as you made your way to the elevators.

Your colleague sat back down at his desk, his now empty cup in hand. He stared at the document in front of him, his mind filled with the pretty smiles that you gave him and how tight your skirt was around your ass and hips.

He groaned, shifting in his office seat as heat rushed down his pants. You were so nice and pretty, always ready to help anyone with a smile on your face, your intelligence and patience striking him.

His heart hammered hard in his chest, not knowing if it was because of the desire he felt for you or the 9 cups of coffee he had throughout the day.

The poor man was stressed, to say the least. Every employee was overworked in the office, but your boss being the misogynist king he is, thought that men could handle the pressure better and gave them all the important clients that were once managed by female colleagues.

Genius move, right?

Sangyeon sighed deeply.

Right now, if a genie granted him three wishes, one of them would be to lay on your couch, his face pressed against your chest as your hands would caress his back and massage his head to help him relax. He craved to feel your steady heartbeat against his cheek, your sweet fragrance and fruity shower gel invading his nostrils.

He sighed in contentment at the thought, abruptly shaking his head and slapping his cheeks, trying to get himself out of this lustful reverie.

“Focus, bro,” he mumbled to himself.

He was at work, it was not the time nor the place to have those kinds of thoughts.

Sangyeon tried everything to get you out of his mind, but it was impossible; when he would start reading the contract, he would think of how, a few hours prior, you offered him your help in a heartbeat, your bright smile shone in only his direction and how you were concerned about his unhealthy caffeine consumption. He loved the attention, more than he was willing to admit, but it felt so inappropriate to crush on his own colleague.

Yet, Sangyeon couldn’t get you out of his head. He was always attentively listening when you were giving him advice, presenting things in meetings, and always here to help when you were carrying boxes of paper to restock your printer or heavy binders to a meeting. Always thanking him with a bright smile or complimenting him on his strength and generosity.

He cursed himself as his dick was now painfully hard in his pants, urging him to let it free. Sangyeon deeply sighed, pondering whether what he was about to do was a good idea.

“Fuck it,” he mumbled to himself and unbuckled his belt, dragging his office pants and boxers to the middle of his thigh, his dick finally springing free from the restraining undergarments. He deeply exhaled when his hand wrapped around his length, resting his head on his chair and closing his eyes. It twitched in his hold as he gave it a tight squeeze, grunting and hissing at the feeling.

Sangyeon thickly swallowed the embarrassment that pumped through his veins at how fast you appeared in his mind. He pursed his lips to stifle a moan, a very vivid image of you on your knees in front of him, looking up at him through your lashes as you teased the leaking tip of his cock.

“Fuck… Y/N,” he embarrassingly muttered your name in a staggered breath, his rushed hand not faltering in its fast strokes.

He adjusted himself in his seat, lowering the right armrest with his free hand to rest in a more comfortable position to keep his little business going.

Precum was oozing from the tip, giving Sangyeon an easier glide up and down his shaft. The pace he set was now agonisingly slow, mimicking the rhythm that you would probably use if you were sucking him off.

The images were really vibrant in his mind, he knew that he was about to come like he never did before. No matter the porn movie he watched or the ex-girlfriend he fucked in the past, they would probably never give him such a strong orgasm as the mere idea of you, on your knees, with his cock in your pretty mouth, would.

“Oh my god,” Sangyeon's voice was breathy, his face twisting in pleasure as his hips bucked in the air, his fist picking up the pace, squeezing his length as if it were your hand.

He swallowed thickly, preventing himself from moaning your name a second time. He was so aroused by his thoughts, yet ashamed of them, never having thought of a colleague this way.

“Y/N… keep going, I’m gonna cum,” he mumbled under his breath, his words sending warmth to his cock.

He wanted to cum so bad, but his exhausted brain was not enough for him to orgasm.  Sangyeon had automatically switched to the same usual rhythm he uses when he touches himself at home and always needed long minutes before reaching his high.

That’s when he closed his eyes, again, and stopped his movement for a brief second. His mind focused on your voice, your smile, how sweet you sound when you say his name, how that time you touched his arm as you laughed at his dumb joke…

… how pretty you would look with your legs on his shoulders, your hands gripping his biceps, prettily moaning his name as he would sliding his cock in and out of you?

It was as if his imagination had gathered just enough strength to send him the dirtiest thought he could ever imagine to cum. His cock twitched hard in his hold, a warm wave of relief washing over him as he came all over his hand and shirt, not fast enough to move it upward to avoid staining it. He swore and groaned your name, body twitching in overstimulation when the images lingered in his mind, the thought of painting your face with his seeds close to make him cum a second time in a matter of seconds.  

Sangyeon cursed himself for being such a horny idiot, ashamed of the whole situation when he realised the mess he created; the sleeve and bottom part of his shirt were stained with droplets of cum, sprinkled too high for him to be able to tuck and hide it in his pants or under his blazer.

He rushed to the bathroom, washed his hands and grabbed some toilet paper in an attempt to clean the stains on his clothes. He grumbled in annoyance when the stains only grew bigger, giving up and rushing back to his desk. What would have happened if his boss had forgotten something or worse, you witnessed him fantasizing about getting his way with you?

Fortunately, he found the spare t-shirt he kept in case he wanted to go for a run with other colleagues. He put it on, tossed his dirty shirt in his bag and clocked out, driving home with your face in his mind.

The next day, you decided to come to work around 9am, wanting to compensate for the fact that you stayed behind late last night. You waved at Sangyeon with a cute smile when you saw him already sitting at his desk, clearly oblivious to what happened in his office after you had left.

The early birds were already drinking a cup of coffee in the break room when you entered to make yourself a cup of tea. Greeting all of them and chatting with some, Sangyeon appeared right after you, trying to talk to you, but you didn’t notice it.

You slightly frowned when you heard a deep, masculine voice and loud clapping, Sangyeon’s face twisting in discomfort.

“Look how finally decided to show up! Goldilocks, aka Y/N!” your boss exclaimed, rubbing his hands together, a vicious smile decorating his face.

You didn’t like where this was going. At all.

Since Sangyeon was standing between the two of you, your boss stepped to the side to stare at you. The break room went dead silent, some hiding their laughs by sipping on their beverage while others were as surprised as you were.

“Yes?” you calmly replied, dropping your tea bag in your cup.

“Do you think that 9am is a normal time to come to work ?”

“Well, yes, after last nig-“

“Listen,” he cut you, voice becoming menacing, “I don’t care at what time you went home. It could be 6pm or midnight, I do not care. What matters to me is that you play Goldilocks and wake up whenever you want to, just because you feel like it or you’re “tired”. Everyone is tired and overworked, it’s normal in our field, but I have a business to run, okay? We are not here – especially not my lovely Anastasia at the front desk – to take your stupid little phone calls from your stupid little clients when you are not here because you’re playing Sleeping Beauty. Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth, or do I need to repeat myself?” he asked, his condescending tone making your blood boil.

“Understood.” You muttered through gritted teeth, hand clutching on your tea cup, resisting the urge to throw the boiling liquid at his face in front of everyone.

This new boss was one particular character. He loved to humiliate people, especially women as if it turned him on. He was only sweet with Anastasia from the front desk, you wondered with your other female colleagues if it was her breast implants that were draining the kindness out of his cock him that he no longer had sympathy for the rest of the women in the office.

You exited the break room as he sat down at a table, acting as if he didn’t just humiliate one of his employees in front of the rest of the floor. Heart hammering in your chest and cheeks on fire, the tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes, but you managed to keep them in for the rest of the day, despite the constant appearances of your boss in your office.

His words: he wanted to make sure that Goldilocks hadn’t fallen asleep on her desk, and if she was working properly.

Wonderful. The day was going to be long.

__

5:30pm was the time you wanted to leave to go to the gym for a workout to wind down.

“Y/N? I’m glad you are still there,” your boss said as he invited himself next to you at your desk. You deeply breathed in and stood up, gathering some documents you were working on before putting them in a folder.

“Well, make it quick, I was about to leave. I have a private appointment to attend,” you lied, putting the folder away in your drawer.

“Not so fast,” he said, preventing you from taking your purse, “I need you to proofread this contract before our meeting tomorrow.”

“I don’t have a meeting tomorrow with you,” you spat, knowing your calendar per heart.

“Well, Monica wasn’t feeling so well this afternoon, so she went home and texted me that she forgot to do it. You’re efficient Y/N, I need this done before tomorrow, okay?” he patted you on the shoulder and you took a step back, wanting to defend yourself, but he had already put the file on your desk with such force that you knew that you would be in big trouble if you didn’t do it.  

When he closed the door, your eyes turned glossy, your hand frantically searching your purse for a tissue. Your eyes overflooded, your mascara running down your cheeks as you muted your sobs as best as possible. You didn’t want to attract pity from your colleagues as they walked by.

Sadly for you, Sangyeon happened to pass by and saw through the glass that you were crying. He knocked and softly opened the wooden door, head peeking through.

“Are you okay Y/N?” he asked, his gentle tone making your tears double despite your desperate attempts at keeping them in.

“Yeah, I am,” you lied, wiping your tears with your wet tissue, and throwing it in the trash to take another one as it was already drenched and covered in mascara.

“Don’t lie to me,” Sangyeon rested his binder on your desk, noticing the new file in front of you.

“Is it because of the boss?” you nodded and breathed in, sniffing before entering your password to unlock your computer, again.

“It’s starting to become too much,” you muttered, voice wavering because of the sobs that threatened to escape your mouth, “I can’t stand him and his unfairness anymore.”

“I understand,” you shook your head.

“No, you don’t,” you retorted, making Sangyeon frown. “You don’t understand, he will never treat you like this because you’re a man,” your hand shook as you clicked on some icons on your computer, trying your best to ignore Sangyeon’s pitiful eyes looking at you, “I’m not an inflatable doll with fake implants and Botox lips that laughs at his not-funny jokes, so he hates me and treats me like this.”

Silence filled your office, Sangyeon awkwardly cleared his throat.

“I don’t think it’s because of this,” he argued, and you looked up at him, eyes sending daggers as you stood up.

“Oh yeah? What is it, then?” you questioned, crossing your arms on your chest.

Sangyeon had to force himself not to get distracted by your breasts – that he found perfect, by the way, not fake like Anastasia’s or Monica’s –, resting his hand on the tall chest of drawers behind you.  

“If you are here to tell me that it is because of female sensitivity and my hormones, you can go-”

“Y/N, no,” Sangyeon interrupted you by shaking his head, amused by the silliness of your words, “I don’t think it has to do with your appearance or the fact that you are a woman,” he stopped for a second, “I think he sees you as a threat.”

“A threat?” you confusedly retorted, surprised by his words, “how?”

“I mean, yeah! You are an intelligent, clever, quick-thinking woman. You know so much about the firm, the clients, their habits and our strategies. He still doesn’t know all of this despite him being our boss for more than a year now.”

“Well, if he stopped swooning over Anastasia and Monica, maybe he would know all of this as well!” you exclaimed, frustrated, and Sangyeon smiled, a hand gently rubbing your shoulder as a sign of comfort.

“You know damn well that it’s absolutely not his priority,” he whispered and you heavily sighed, shaking your head from side to side, “maybe he’s trying to push your buttons to make you quit, so you no longer put him in the shade.”

“Well, it’s kind of working,” you mumbled, voice wavering, feeling the tears gather again in your eyes.

“Hey, hey, don’t think like that,” Sangyeon took a step closer, grabbing your face between his hands, the gesture startling you, yet you didn’t step away. His palms were gentle and soft, loving how – despite their warmth – they managed to cool down your burning cheeks.

“He’s not worthy of your tears, do you know that? He doesn’t care if you cry because of him, the only thing that matters to him is if Anastasia will suck his dick at lunch.”

You giggled and his face broke into a smile, proud of his joke, his thumb wiping a strand tear that managed to fall from your eye while laughing.

“I like it better when you smile,” he mumbled and you felt your cheeks heating up, looking down as he took a step back, already missing his hands on your face.

“Come on,” he grabbed his binder again, gesturing to you with the head to follow him, “let’s grab a coffee before tackling this case, okay?”

While you walked back to your desk after having said coffee with your colleague, Sangyeon sat at his, not believing that he managed to touch you without getting a boner. When he saw you cry out of exhaustion behind your computer, he was tempted to drop everything and go fist his boss’ collar to give him a piece of his mind about how he treated you, but he thought it was better – for the two of you – to check on you.

When Sangyeon’s head peeked again through the doorframe a few hours later, you were about halfway done, struggling with the little work Monica had done over the months for this client.

“How is it going?” he asked, and you huffed, taking your head between your hands. The clock was closed to reach 9pm and you were nowhere near to go home.

“Monica barely did anything. Even if I stayed the whole night, I would not be able to fully proofread it. Important documents are missing, I don’t know who she called, or to whom she sent emails, it’s just a lost cause,” you desperately mumbled, Sangyeon entered your office before closing the door behind him.

Your desk lamp was killing your eyes as you showed Sangyeon some data on your computer, hoping he would come up with a solution that you were too tired to think of. His hand was resting on your desk, the other on your chair, close to your shoulder.

“Sadly you’re right, it’s a lost cause,” he crossed his arms on his broad chest, negatively shaking his head. You sighed and saved your progress, standing up. Being exhausted and on heels was not a good combo, making you lose your balance.

Sangyeon was quick to catch your forearm, preventing you from falling.

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat and straightened your shirt, blinking a few times, “you’re quite reactive at 9pm after a whole working day,” you joked, and he smiled.

“That’s probably all the coffees I drink,” he joked back, his fingers still gently yet securely wrapped around your wrist.

Your eyes lingered on your shared physical touch, slowly looking up at your colleague. He remained silent, his eyes falling to your lips for a brief second before coming back to your eyes.

Hesitant, Sangyeon brought his free hand to your face, replacing a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture warmed up your body, feeling the goosebumps on the forearm he was still holding.

You were positively responding to his touch.

And he loved it.

Much to your dismay, he retracted his hand, and you looked to the side, his palms now on your shoulders. You had to stifle a moan and prevent your eyes from rolling at the back of your head when Sangyeon positioned himself behind you, his thumbs pressing on the tight knots between your shoulder blades. Inhaling deeply, enjoying the relief, your head lolled to the side and rested against his chest.

You were letting your guard down, an amazing opportunity for Sangyeon to step in.

You audibly gasped and grabbed his hand when you felt his warm lips on the side of your neck, gently kissing and nipping on the skin.

“Sangyeon,” you breathed, fingers flying to his hair, the tension on your shoulders slowly subsiding.

“Mh?” he hummed, too busy kissing your neck to answer you properly. The mere whisper of his name was enough to send electricity through his veins.

“What are you doing? What if someone passes by?” you worriedly asked, dropping your hand from his hair as realisation suddenly hit you.

A bit of self-control would be nice, Y/N. You were at work, damn it, not in a private setting.

“We’re alone in the office, don’t worry,” he mumbled against your warm skin, humming the remaining scent of your perfume, “the janitor already left, you don’t have to worry about anything.”

His voice was low, reassuring, making you give in. Sangyeon wrapped his arm around your waist, pushing your back flush against his chest as he continued to kiss your neck gently.

But his actions had riled you to the point that you could no longer content yourself with only neck kisses and a back hug. You needed more of him, his attentive and caring attitude did little to nothing to tame the growing crush that you had on him since he started at the firm.

Turning around in his hold, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips on his in a fierce kiss. Sangyeon hummed in surprise against your kiss but immediately gave in, his hands resting on your hips, drawing circles with his thumbs on your skirt. Your hands explored his broad, clad back, getting wetter at how well you could feel his muscles under the fabric.

“I need you,” you managed to mumble as you pulled away, Sangyeon’s hand travelling from your hips to your neck at your words, pulling you into another kiss that was way more intense and rushed than the previous one.

Tongues fought for dominance, teeth clashed and collided against one another, hands became adventurous, and the atmosphere suddenly changed in your office as you let desire and need replace the despair and exhaustion you both felt.

Sangyeon’s hands came back to your lower back, gently tucking away the shirt from your skirt, sneaking under the fabric to feel your warm skin. You could tell that he wanted more, so you took one of his hands in yours and made it land on your ass, feeling Sangyeon smile into the kiss and give it a harsh slap. The sting was delicious, making you whine and bite his lower lip when he did it again.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to get this close to you,” Sangyeon pulled away, his warm breath hitting your lips, his fingers unzipping the back of your pencil skirt.

“Are you serious? I never thought a guy like you would be interested in me,” you admitted, unbuttoning his office shirt.

“I mean, how could I not be? You’re gorgeous, intelligent, so nice and always so damn helpful,” he effortlessly sat you on your desk, your heels falling from your feet in the process, punctuating each compliment with a kiss, slowly making his way to the valley of your breasts.

“Have you seen our female colleagues? I wouldn’t even be surprised if I got picked last,” you mumbled and Sangyeon scoffed, slapping the side of your hip, close to your ass.

“Enough with the negative self-talk,” he grunted, his arms on either side of you to look at you deep in the eyes. “Now, will the prettiest girl in this office let me remove her shirt to show her how enough and how beautiful she is to me?” you couldn’t help but giggle, face warming up at his silly request.

Sangyeon wasted no time and undid your shirt buttons, taking in the sight of your breasts covered in a beautiful, white lace bra.

“Gorgeous,” he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your breast, shivers exploding in your chest. You were ready to unclasp it, but Sangyeon stopped you, wanting to admire them a few seconds more before allowing you to drop your bra on your keyboard.

The imprint of his hard cock was apparent in his office pants, your hand reaching to touch it as he was caressing your chest. Sangyeon moaned, mouth diving to suck on one of your nipples, his other hand playing with the other, teasing and squeezing the soft flesh.

“Sangyeon please, don’t stop,” you breathed, spreading your legs to invite him in, which he immediately did, your core pressed flush against his lower abdomen. You whined and fisted his hair, keeping him close as you felt his dick press against your stomach, Sangyeon grunting against your nipple at your tug.

“You have such pretty breasts,” he mumbled, his tongue giving your nipples one last flicker before his mouth went lower. You whined as you felt warmth pool in your panties, Sangyeon busy grabbing your legs and spreading them apart.

“That’s it, baby,” he muttered, taking your body in, “spread them nice and wide for me.”

Once he was kissing the lace of your underwear, he looked up, silently asking for your consent to go further. You took a deep breath and nodded, suddenly acknowledging what was happening.

You were going to fuck your colleague.

Were you scared? No. Impatient? Hell yes. Excited? More than anyone could imagine.

Your boss and his stupid to-proofread contract were long forgotten, Sangyeon’s hands and mouth doing wonders to get your head off of everything. It was even more effective than a workout session at the gym.

The tearing of your tights got you out of your thoughts, watching Sangyeon smirk as he toyed with your undergarments, pressing a digit on the wet patch as he kissed the inner part of your thighs.

“I can’t believe you are already this wet for me and I barely did anything,” you embarrassingly looked away, and he pulled the damp panties to the side, taking in how beautiful your pussy was.

“So pretty,” he mumbled and you clenched around nothing at his praise, Sangyeon’s hands wrapping around your thighs as he wasted no time and dove his tongue between your folds.

“Sangyeon!” you exclaimed, a hand flying to your mouth at how loudly you yelled his name. Sangyeon was chuckling between your legs, loving how sensitive you were for him.

Your hand flew to his hair as you moaned out his name, feeling his tongue reaching parts between your folds that you never knew existed. His nose teased your clit, making your heart hammer in your chest faster. He was so good at eating you out, that you started to wonder if he had lots of experience to be this good.

Sangyeon’s tongue prevented you from wandering too deep in your thoughts as it focused on your most sensitive parts, making you cry out his name when you felt two fingers tease your glistering slit.

“Please Sangyeon,” you begged and he hummed against your pussy, gently inserting two fingers inside you. The stretch felt so good, his digits searching for your sweet spot each time he rutted them inside you. After a few strokes, when he realised that he had found it – thanks to a strangled moan falling from your pretty lips –, he focused on it like he was on a mission.

“Do I make you feel good, my pretty girl?” he asked from between your legs, his warm breath hitting your folds, his fingers still going in and out of you as he teasingly licked your clit.

“Y-Yeah, fuck!” you cried in a high-pitched moan, Sangyeon maintaining eye contact as the squelching sound of your pussy filled the silence, your hips bucking up against his mouth as his cock hardened at your helplessness.

Removing his digits for a short moment, you whined from the emptiness. You heard a zip but paid no mind to it, too lost in your own pleasure to care.

Sangyeon, now on his knees in front of you, had reached for his cock in his pants, stroking his shaft with his hand coated in your juices, your moans only increasing the lust he felt for you.

“Fuck Sangyeon, I’m so close,” you mumbled, hands gripping the edge of the desk, a foot resting on your desk while your other leg was resting on his shoulder, granting him more access to your core.

“Cum for me, baby. I wanna see how beautiful you look coming on my tongue,” he whispered while kissing the top of your pussy, right above your clit, before diving back to make you cum. He abandoned his hard cock to trigger your g-spot again, your cries indicating to him that you were close to reaching your high.

And it didn’t disappoint. In a loud cry of his name, your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave. Your core squeezed his fingers, barely letting him move them inside you and your legs shook around him, your face contorting in pleasure as you fisted his hair, keeping him close to your pussy. He lapped at your juices like a starved man, his fingers teasing your clit to make you fully ride your orgasm.

“Sangyeon,” you moaned out of breath as he proudly looked at his glistening fingers. Your nipples hardened at the sight of a satisfied Sangyeon licking his digits with a smile as if he had just finished eating a tasteful dessert.

“You’re so pretty when you cum, you know that?” he asked while helping you sit up as you had laid down on your desk while orgasming, letting you finish unbuttoning his shirt and push it off his broad shoulders.

He kissed your lips, letting you taste yourself as your tongues waltzed together, your arms wrapping around his neck, caressing his shoulders as you were still weak from your orgasm.

“And you look so handsome when you’re eating me out, you know that?” you imitated him and he smiled, his mouth parting against yours in a breathy sigh as you reached for his cock in between your bodies.

It was even better than he had imagined the day before. It felt different than his hand, he even dared to say it felt way better. You used your two hands to stroke his shaft, one of them sometimes teasing his balls.

While looking at him, you gently spat into your palm before bringing it to his cock, Sangyeon throwing his head back at the sight.

“It feels so good, Y/N, keep going please,” you smiled, blushing at his praise, loving how handsome he looked and how hot he sounded while grunting and bucking his hips in your hand. The tip of his cock was angry, red, precum leaking from the tip as it mixed with your spit.

You quickened your pace just to tease him, only for Sangyeon to grab your wrist to slow you down.

“Stop, stop darling, I wanna last,” he chuckled before kissing you, pulling you to him. Your breasts were pressed flush against his chest, loving how warm his skin felt against your hard nipples.

“Do we have condoms?” he mumbled against your lips, and you thought about it for a second, quickly getting your sanitary pouch from your purse.

“We can still get one in Anastasias’ drawer if this one is expired,” you mumbled as Sangyeon studied it, ripping it open once he saw it was still up to date.

“No need,” Sangyeon smirked and rolled it down his shaft, throwing the wrapping next to your bra as your core clenched around the sight of his member.

Leaning on your elbows, you watched him and smiled, admiring the view his broad shoulders and abs were offering you. He did the same with you, checking your breasts and pretty face out while stroking his cock.

“I think we both like what we see, right?” you giggled, and he nodded, leaning forward to kiss you on the lips, to which you immediately responded. His cock rested against your stomach, your heart skipping a beat at how big he was.

Slightly pulling away, Sangyeon rested his forehead against yours, tapping and sliding his cock a few times against your wet core, a prominent vein deliciously grazing against your clit. You whimpered at the jolts of electricity it sent in your body, your fingers clutching his shoulders as he slowly pushed himself inside of you.

“Oh my god baby, you’re so tight,” he grunted, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth as you tried to keep looking deep in his brown orbits, but to no avail.

He was about halfway in, the stretch making you throw your head back, arms weakening under the weight of the pleasure Sangyeon was giving you. You moaned out his name, feeling full as his hips rested against your thighs.

Both out of breath at the new sensation, he gently grabbed you by the throat to press his lips against yours, your hands flying to his hair to prevent you from falling back on your desk.

“You’re so big,” you groaned and he smirked, two of his digits pushing your lips apart to let your tongue coat them in spit before bringing them down where your bodies met, teasing your clit in sharp circles.

“Shit, you feel so good, Y/N,” he muttered, getting lost in the warmth your pussy was engulfing his cock bit by bit till he was flushed against you.

“Move, please,” he obliged, sliding his cock in and out of you at a steady pace. Your breasts bounced at each thrust, Sangyeon’s mouth diving to litter them with love bites.

Your moans filled your closed office, your nails scratching the skin of his shoulders as Sangyeon’s mouth continued its assault on your breasts. He picked up the pace, hand still steady around your throat to prevent you from squirming too much, making sure you stared into his eyes. High-pitched moans of his name fell from your lips, brows furrowing in pleasure as his dick brushed nonstop against all the spots that made you see stars, the reduction of oxygen increasing your blissful state.

“Does that feel good, Y/N?” he breathlessly asked, his hands leaving your throat to travel up and down your body, mouth vividly kissing every inch of your skin. You whined, head clouded with the feeling of his dick throbbing into you, addictingly rubbing against your soft walls that wanted to trap him forever. 

He wouldn’t mind, though.

“Fuck, yeah it does,” you managed to mutter, your words being cut by the noises of Sangyeon’s hips harshly colliding against your thighs.

Sangyeon looked down, his dick twitching at how it disappeared inside your core. He enjoyed the sight, rubbing circles on your clit. The little whimpers of pleasure you were trying to stifle only encouraged him to keep going, wanting to hear again how pretty you sounded when you cum.

He briefly stilled inside you, grabbing one of your legs and lifting it on his shoulder, kissing your tight-covered ankle. The new angle allowed him to reach deeper and further into you, his free hand grabbing you by the back of your head to prevent you from falling as your nails dug dents into the skin of his forearms you were clutching onto in utter pleasure.

“Sangyeon, please,” you begged in a cry, eyes imploring god knows what. He kissed your lips to silence you, hand gently stroking your cheek. “I’m so close,” you whispered when he pulled away, chest deeply heaving as Sangyeon picked up the pace.  

Your body started feeling hot, indicating that you were closer to your release. Sangyeon felt you clench hard around his cock, giving him the signal as well, your moans increasing in volume as his hand came back in contact with your clit, rubbing it and gently slapping it to bring you closer to your peak.

“Come for me beautiful, let it all go around me,” he mumbled against your lips before capturing them in a quick kiss, his thrusts intensifying in sharpness, the new pace sending you over the edge in a loud scream of pleasure. His name and profanities fell off your lips as your legs shook, Sangyeon now gently sliding his cock in and out of you, enjoying with a smile the beautiful sight that it was to see you cum around him.

When you came back to your senses, still sensitive from your intense orgasm, you felt a mouth kissing the warm skin from one collarbone to another, warm hands on your hips.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum, Y/N,” he breathed against your chest, your hand pushing some strands of hair away from his eyes.

“You already said that,” you giggled, and he chuckled, gently biting your earlobe, and making you squeal.

“I know, I just can’t get enough of it,” he whispered, pressing his lips to yours in a delicate kiss.

You got lost in the kiss for a brief moment, before realising something.

“Did you cum?” you questioned, hand resting on his cheek.

“It’s okay, you needed it more than-“

You sat up and kissed him, seizing the opportunity of him being distracted with your kiss to push him into your office chair, dropping to your knees.

Your tights did little to no job of shielding your knees from the cold tile flooring, but you didn’t care. You had orgasmed twice in one night, the least you could do was lend him a hand – or your mouth – to help him reach his peak as well.

When Sangyeon looked down, he almost came just by seeing you on your knees in front of him. In a swift motion, you ripped away the condom from his hard length, your hand at the base of it while you kissed your way up to the tip.

“Y/N, please don’t tease me,” Sangyeon gripped the armrests, and you smiled, your mouth wrapping around his cock, your tongue curling slowly around it, taking him in as best as you could.

Spit rolled down his length, your hand stroking what couldn’t fit in your mouth. His hips bucked, making you gag, your colleague whispering a soft apology as you pulled away, a string of saliva linking your pretty lips to his cock, thumb pressing on the prominent vein wrapped around his length.

You looked up at him with lustful eyes, hollowing your cheeks, teasing the slit and sucking around the tip like you would do with a lollipop, making Sangyeon shudder in pleasure.

Without warning, your mouth swallowed his cock, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat and its weight on your tongue, his balls heavy in your palm. You stroked the wrinkly skin, earning a low grunt from Sangyeon as you kept on bobbing your head up and down.

“Oh yeah, Y/N, keep going. You're really good at this- fuck!” Sangyeon whispered, his fantasy slowly becoming a reality. His face distorted in pleasure looked down, your eyes meeting as you kept pleasuring him. He threw his head back, his hands landing in your hair as he gathered it in a messy ponytail, wanting to keep seeing your pretty face as you sucked him off.

Your jaw started hurting, like your knees, but you kept going, wanting to satisfy him as best as he satisfied you. He would never tell you, but just the fact that you let him kiss you and touch would have already been enough for him. But now, Sangyeon was not going to complain to have his dick deep in your mouth, just like he had imagined it the night before.

The moans you let out while he was fucking you came back to his mind, adding another source of pleasure to your mouth wrapped around his cock. He felt his high coming and you did too, his girthy length in your mouth slightly increasing, urging you to pick up the pace.

“Y/N, keep going, ohhh fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!” he warned, and you pulled away, wrapping your hand around it, keeping the same steady pace.

Sangyeon swiftly removed your hand to stroke himself, his other free hand grabbing your chin to prevent you from moving. You drew your tongue out and that was the last straw; thick, white ropes of cum landed on your face and dropped to your chest in the following second, your name escaping from Sangyeon’s lips in heavy sighs.

Getting back on your feet, you smiled at him, sitting on his lap. He slightly shuddered as your core grazed against his still-sensitive cock, his chest heaving at the force of his release.

“Thank you,” you timidly mumbled and he smiled, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss.

The lust had died down, the atmosphere now becoming soft and quiet, the stillness of the night engulfing you in a warm hug.

“You don’t have to thank me for nothing,” he mumbled, wrapping an arm around you as he slid the chair closer to your desk, grabbing a few tissues to clean your chest and chin.

“I could thank you for plenty-“

“You don’t have to. I did it because I like you, okay?” Sangyeon mumbled and it was your turn to smile, goosebumps rising on your skin as he kissed your collarbone.

“Let’s call in sick tomorrow,” he proposed, and you gasped, ready to protest, “I wanna take you out properly.”

“But the meeting-”

“Fuck the boss and his fucking meeting. He can deal with the work on his own,” Sangyeon grunted, looking at you with tender eyes as you tamed the strands of his hair that you tugged on.

“I’m scared that he will humiliate me again because I didn’t do the work he asked me for,” you confessed, taking a deep breath. Sangyeon’s hands cupped your face, forcing you to look at him.

“He'll hear from me if he makes another inappropriate comment to you in front of everyone. Let me drive you home now,” he answered, kissing your lips before letting you slide off his lap to get dressed.  

[sugurizz]

𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑-𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏

(SMUT/NSFW +18 - Minors DNI)

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭: Kishibe x f!reader

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: As the main secretary of the tokyo public safety headquarters, you couldn't help but notice Kishibe. the strongest devil hunter of the 1st special division. and the man that soon had you crushing hard on him. 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: age gap (Kishibe is 50+, reader is in her 20s or older), kishibe smoking and drinking, degradation (slut etc), slight violence (slapping etc) , breast sucking, Dom/sub dynamics, Master/Daddy Kink.

𝐰𝐜: 1,2k.

He’s probabely in his 50’s…

you thought to yourself as he walked through the main portals of the public safety headquarters.

You’re undeniably hardworking, reliable and good at what you do. or at least good enough to be the head secretary of tokyo‘s public safety branch. Mrs. Makima herself was the one to recommend you to the superiors and then hire you as her personal secretary the in your early years at the institution, and you started progressively earning her trust and respect since.

most of your job consisted of taking care of paperwork, archive sorting and verifying most devil hunters‘ divisions reports, so you weren’t usually in a direct contact with the divisions‘ members. But that didn’t stop you from noticing the 6“4 frame that made appearance at several occasions over the two years of you working there.

You did hear the rumors about him being a ruthless maniac, a pussy pleaser and a enchanting seducer. But he managed to hide it well under his unphased expression and dark gaze. At least to those who didn’t know him.

„is makima at the office?“

a husky, yet warm voice snapped you out of your train of thoughts, as his intimidating silhouette made its way towards you.

„good evening, Mrs Makima left the building around half an hour ago. So I believe she’s done for the day.“

„tch“ He groaned, a slight frustration translated through his gestures. „charging me with all her crappy tasks .“

„I’m sorry for the inconvenience sir.“

„Master.“

You raised your eyes towards him, a little confused at first, looking for a slight explanation. But then it hit you.

„my bad. I apologize for the incovenience. Master.“

an unspoken yet heavy tension floated around as soon as the honorific left your your lips. And you hoped that the heat in your cheeks didn’t become obvious to the sight.

„ya ought to call it a day as well. It’s getting darker outside and there isn’t much protection around the area…“ he advised, flashing a silver flask out of his dark coat.

„thank you for your concern master, but I’ll have to finish all the reports by the end of today‘s shift.“ You said as you kept sorting the documents on the wall-sized bookshelf behind you.

He took a few gulps of what you assumed to be mostly alcohol,  as he seated himself on the armchair across from your office.

„you normal civilians take it as a joke. with that fragile body of yours, wouldn’t take a devil more than a minute to take ya down.“ He lighted a cigarette , eyeing the way your body moved before him.

„I myself would take you down in seconds…„ he added in an almost inaudible tone,  yet it managed to reach your ears. heart bumping out of nowhere, you quickly turned your back to him, trying to calm your sudden nervousness in the few instants that he couldn’t see your face.

The way he made a mess out of you with a few words, while wearing the most stoic of expressions on his face is insane.

„come to think of it. Aki told me that he left a report for me two days ago.did he hand it to you?„

 „y-yes he did. I’ll provide you with it in just a second.“ You stared at the shelves for a brief moment, trying to recall exactly where you placed it. „shit“ you scolded yourself. You placed it too high while you were trying to arrange last weeks‘ documents.

„great. now I’ll have to struggle to get it.„

Standing on your toes wasn’t exactly the most briliant idea you had. As you heard a light chuckle behind you, a few steps approached from you, before you got utterly towered over by him.  

Your heart sunk. His scent is intoxicating. the mix of a strong masculine cologne with the hint of alcohol and a distinguishable cigarette odor overwhelmed your senses.

„tiny.“ He whispered as his hand effortlessely landed on the folder.

You couldn’t move for a good minute. His dark eyes darted down at you in an almost pitiful look..

 „what are ya acting so flustered for?“

„nothing. it's  just that ... you’re a little … intimidating. Master.“

„is that so ?“ two fingers lifted your chin. His gaze dead focused on your lips.

„I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean it in a-„

„shut up“ he cut you off  „Your screws will pop if you don’t loosen ‘em a bit…“ his grip fully caged your cheeks. „give it a break.“

His face came closer to yours. His lips felt rough yet so delicious. You couldn’t possibly deny how addictive it was to make out with him. he had you caged between his strong arms, your tongue wrapping around his in the nastiest way. his bitter aroma of alcohol and smoke suddenly melted like an elixir down your throat. you felt like passing out as he whispered right in your ear

„take yer bra off...“

Your hands shaked of pure frustration while you undid your shirt‘s buttons. he wasn't even about to wait for it, plunging his face in the heat of your neck.

„oh master..“ you called for him in a loud sigh. His warm tongue licked over your earlobe before you felt the motion of his lips.

„ call me again.“ the hoarse tone in his voice struck right through your core. you felt so vulnerable as your bare chest was on display before his eyes.

His hand flashed behind your back in a quick gesture, undoing your bra. „oh god, hngh.." the tiny whines of embarassment emmited from you „ what if someone…“

He backed off a few inches from you, a little grin gracing the scar on his cheek „ they’ll see me sucking on your breasts. I don’t mind… “ he brushed it off nonchalantely as he slowly took the garment off your chest, eyes glued on your slightly pebbled nipples, „ ... and if they do, I’ll make sure to crush their skulls.“

You looked at him with doe eyes, only for him to tackle your breasts like a hungry beast. His loud groans and sloppy licks filled the room in obscene sounds, though it was heaven to your ears.

Your hand wandered through his trimmed lower haircut, caressing his neck and shifting to stroke his slightly bearded jawline.

„you’re such a damn pervert. Master.“

You couldn’t believe what you just iterated. You probabely never said this to anyone before. But it felt so good to say it right to his face.

It didn’t cost him more than a slap to put you back into your place though. You knew he tried his best to make it as harmless as he could. So that he wouldn’t accidentally break one of your bones.

„then why would a flower-like lady as yourself agree to have an old bastard take her ass right here, right now ?“

„I like you. Kishibe.“

A brief silence weighed around. You certainly wouldn’t expect any kind of obvious reaction nor emotion from the stone cold man that he was.

„you’re nothing but a young brat. Don’t get yourself into that love stuff.“

„I’m not a brat! you’re the old geezer!“

„you watch that little mouth or else I’ll teach you how to.“ He harshly gripped your jaw, pressing his large fingers on either sides of your face. His breath fanned over your nose, sending mini shivers down your spine.

„open, slut.“

He spat right on your lolled out tongue. and you knew you had to swallow all what he gave you, judging by the way his rough hand squeezed on your poor cheeks.

„I’ll break your little heart. I may die any day…“  

PART 2 - coming up.

[harunayuuka2060]

Barbatos: Oh, my dear empress. I am really pleased that you are making every effort to fulfill your responsibilities. However, I implore you to take a break every now and then.

MC: *smudges of ink on her face*

MC: ...

MC: One last document and I'm done—

Barbatos: Certainly not.

MC: ...

Barbatos: ...

MC: *slowly picks up her pen, while staring at him*

Barbatos: Empress.

Lucifer: Don't you have work to do?

Diavolo: We're on a date right now, Lucifer.

Lucifer: I'm asking you because I'm worried about your empress.

Diavolo: She will call if ever there's an inconvenience—

*receives a call from MC*

Diavolo: *answers it* Hello, my empress?

MC: I've locked myself in the storage room while I was searching for old documents.

Diavolo: Oh dear— Are you alright?

MC: Yes. I am unharmed. I've only called just to ask if I could destroy the door.

Diavolo: ...

Lucifer: ...

Diavolo and Lucifer: *both trying to hold their laughter*

Diavolo: Of course, empress. You can do everything to get yourself out of there.

MC: Thank you. *hangs up*

Diavolo and Lucifer: ...

Diavolo and Lucifer: *laughs*

Lucifer: She's quite independent, isn't she?

Diavolo: I could already imagine Barbatos rubbing his temples.

Barbatos: Empress...

MC: *was trying to fix the door*

MC: I've got this. If you would just give me some time—

Barbatos: *has his arms crossed* *looking sternly at her*

MC: ...

MC: I'll take that as a yes.

Barbatos: Empress!

Diavolo: I'm surprised to see her sleeping at this hour.

Barbatos: I've had to force her to sleep. She wouldn't leave the door unfixed.

Diavolo: *troubled chuckle*

Barbatos: My lord, you have to remind the empress that she has a butler to rely on.

Diavolo: *smiles awkwardly* Couldn't you remind her yourself?

Barbatos: *frowns*

[inuiiwonderland]

Twisted captivity

Chapter 4

Twst third years x fem reader

A/n: So sorry for not updating in over a month😭 life’s been rough lately and work has me TIRED. Anyways I will be back on my grind soon guys (after a good nap)

Words: 1.1k

-

“Leona kingscholar”

It read. After that scary encounter at the savanaclaw enclosure, you thought it would be a good idea to get some more information from Crowley about the three mers you met the other day.

The moment you got home, you did a deep dive about their past and background information for the next 3 hours.

Jack howl

Current Age: 16

Rescued/Found: Found washed up on shore with a big heavy fishing net on him. It was a hassle trying to set him free since the poor mer was confused and scared seeing all these strange people trying to touch him.

He was only 9 at the time

Poor boy, he never saw his Family again after Crowley decided to take him in his care.

You quickly wiped the small tear that slid down your cheek and grabbed the second document.

Ruggie bucchie

Current Age: 17

Rescued/Found: Was kept in captivity by a crazy fisher family before being found by trein.

The family that kept ruggie said he was abandoned by his family but both Crowley and trein didn’t believe it. Poor boy probably got caught up in their nets. It was later discovered that the home that ruggie was kept in was a merfolk slaughterhouse. He was taken away from his family at the age of 4 and was originally planned to be slaughtered and sold but that was soon forgotten when the sweet old lady who was against the whole thing stopped them from hurting him.

He was 6 when they rescued him from that crazy family.

And last but not least

“Leona kingscholar”

Age: 24

Rescued/Found: Unknown

“Huh?” You frown and flip through the many pages of Leona's document. But found nothing. The only thing you could find was his name, age, weight, height, and species.

You’ll have a talk with Crowley tomorrow morning about this. You wiped your tears before getting up and placing your cup in the sink. You took the documents with you and made your way upstairs for a much needed rest.

-

The next day you tried getting more information about Leona's background from crowley but the moment you asked it’s like he completely stopped functioning and was acting strange.

Before you could even ask again, he quickly shoo’d you away and told you that your main focus for today was taking care of the savanaclaw enclosure.

So here you are with your notebook and pen and your lunch as you make your way to the enclosure.

“Wonder what that was all about” You mumble under your breath as you take out your notebook and pen.

You hummed to yourself as you quickly jotted down notes for your mer friends from heartslabyul.

Ace has been wanting to try more of that cherry tart that you brought in the other day while deuce wants some more of that chocolate cake.

I should sneak some more of that next time I’m assigned to heartslabyul

Once the big doors of the enclosure came into view you started putting away your stuff in your bag before pushing the big doors open.

You didn’t know what to expect when you first stepped foot into savannaclaw but you definitely didn’t expect there to be a meeting of some sorts.

You saw as everyone gathered around this huge rock and you had to squint to see who they were all looking up to.

It was Leona!

You were shocked to see as everyone gathered around him silently. He was talking but you couldn’t understand anything that he was saying since whatever was coming out of his mouth didn’t sound human.

Merfolk language

The only thing you could hear was chirps and clicks. Whatever he was saying he had everyone nodding along in agreement.

But your observation was soon cut short when you let out a sneeze. Everyone quickly turned to see you watching them. You awkwardly waved as everyone just stared.

You feel uncomfortable now that everyone's eyes are on you.

You thanked the heavens when Leona grabs everyone’s attention again. All eyes are back on him.

He let out a few more chirps and clicks and soon the meeting was dismissed.

You watch as everyone swam in different directions while two of them stayed behind.

Ruggie and Jack!

You slowly walked up to them and you could see ruggie wave at you once you came into view.

It seems he’s taken a liking towards me. That 's good!

“Hey ruggie” He chirps before sniffing the air. His eyes quickly land on your bag before looking back at you.

“My bag?” He points at it before pointing at his mouth.

That’s when you remember that you had your lunch with you.

Ah he’s hungry

You sat down on the patchy grass and pulled your bag towards you. You opened it up and the boy came closer as the smell of your lunch grew strong.

You heard a small growl and the boy sheepishly smiled when you looked at him.

You dig through your bag before taking out a sandwich, a drink, and a small bag of donuts.

Water splashes everywhere as Leona growls and shouts in the merfolk language at ruggie but he doesn't care as you gave him half of your sandwich. He takes small bites before scarfing down the rest.

He pats his belly before sniffing again and eyeing your small bag of donuts. You grab the bag and hand him one of the donuts.

He sniffs it before eating it whole. His eyes widen and he eyes the bag of donuts before pointing at the bag and then his mouth.

He likes it. I should keep that in mind for future visits!

“You like the donut? Want more?” He nods.

“More” You giggle before giving him another one. As your attention was on ruggie, you didn’t notice leona stare. Jack was a bit hesitant but he soon worked up the courage to swim closer to you. You looked at Jack and smiled as you gave him a donut.

Now your main attention was on the two merfolks in front of you.

Leona watches carefully at the interaction that you have with the two young mers in front of you. Ruggie seemed to fully feel comfortable in your presence while Jack is still trying to get used to it.

At least you aren’t one of the mean ones

Leona thinks

He still doesn’t fully trust you, but…..he can get used to this new change.

-

“Y/nnnnn!” You mentally groan and resist the urge to roll your eyes when you hear your name being called by the one and only….crowley.

“Yes crowley?” The man smiles as he hands you stacks of papers.

“This is for you!”

“For…me?”

“Yes! For I so graciously decided to assign you to 5 more enclosures!”

“What”

WHAT???

“You’ll get paid more!”

Oh brother…..

-

I noticed that i haven’t introduced the rest of the heartslabyul crew but don’t worry! They will soon be introduced! Again the first and second year crew view reader as a mother figure/older sister! Those poor babies went through a lot under crowley’s care:(

more Information in future chapters

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