#whenever pencil skirts were in

[sweetbitterbitten]

'work:     for our muses to get intimate at someone’s place of work.' ( dealer's choice )

he has a meeting in ten. with the most unreasonable of clients. he needs a refreshing before heading out the door to that harridan. and mary boleyn has it well in hand. she strolls in with the security of stance - as would a well-paid secretary; tie a tamed snake twined between fingers. he is occupied, pouring over newspaper as he downs a quick cup of joe. the latter she plucks from his hold and places on the desk behind her, eclipsing his view and brandishing the length of fabric she means to wrangle him into. "chin up." commands she, smoothly slipping one knee between seated legs (how her hem must strain in rising to accommodate her action with a light lick of friction) to steady the determined strangling of a silk noose. she does not spare a glance to the monitoring of his reactions. only grinds the soft flesh of her knee gently to the apex of his thighs and finishes her task, taking time to admire her handiwork, and linger, the fresh laundered cotton of her collared shirt open perhaps a button more than it ought to be. a delicate pinch between thumb and fore is wriggled in simultaneous twitch to her nose. " t h e r e . all d o n e .." warmth of intruding knee is removed and his unfinished cup stolen as she sashsays, sipping his brew, back from whence she came.

[wttcsms]

come right on me (i mean camaraderie!)

ᝰ.ᐟ starting a new job is scary, especially when it seems like you can’t do anything correctly. good thing that your manager is always so kind and reassuring and supportive. when a client meeting ends terribly and runs so late that the two of you have to check into a hotel to spend the night, your sweet manager knows a good way to cheer you up… ( fem!reader )

pairing tetsurou kuroo x reader word count 4.9k content contains praise kink, oh no!!! there's only one bed!!!, coworkers/power imbalance (he's your manager, you're the newest and youngest member on the team), slight manipulation from kuroo (he's aware of your crush on him and uses your admiration as leverage), occasionally refers to you as his kouhai, you call him kuroo-senpai, creampie, sex in an enclosed, semi-public space (the office's supply closet), first time blowjobs kinktober masterlist

If you had known that your transfer would have resulted in you getting fucked boneless in the supply closet of the company you work for…

Well, you would have announced your job transfer a little bit sooner.

“Kuroo— Ah!” You let out a helpless yelp as you feel Kuroo’s teeth bite down on the soft part of your shoulder, sure to leave a mark. “K-Kuroo, slow down!”

“Kuroo? Really?” He snarls, lifting his head up to glare down at you. “Tsk, and here I thought you were a star employee. Is that any way to speak to your manager, or is it because you’re moving that you’re deciding to drop the formalities?” 

Your heart drops at the sound of Kuroo seemingly dissatisfied with you. Out of everyone in this office, he’s always been the one to root for you the hardest. You look up to him! Even when he’s upset, all you want to do is make him feel better. Just like how he made you feel better that time after that horrendous client meeting last month…

“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”

You’re bowing your head in apology, but Kuroo merely laughs, shaking his head.

“Don’t apologize. These things happen.” Kuroo is smiling, and from the crinkle of his eye and the carefree tone he’s using, it’s genuine. Kuroo isn’t upset with you, and somehow, this only makes you feel worse.

“But I ruined the meeting.” You remind him. “I stuttered when speaking to the client, and then I totally didn’t know how to properly react whenever he—” 

This is when Kuroo’s friendly demeanor darkens. “There would be no proper reaction to what he said.” The client, an older man who’s been working for so long in corporate Japan that back in his day, women could only serve as secretaries and belittled assistants, had made a less-than-savory remark on you and the way your pencil skirt hugs your figure. It had been a test of self-restraint for Kuroo to remain civil and smiling and to not punch him from across the table, but you don’t know that. “Our company shouldn’t sign contracts with men like him, anyway. I’ll write up everything in the report, and you won’t get reprimanded at all, okay?” He’s back to his normal, cheery self, and you nod.

Kuroo always knows what to do. 

And in your case, Kuroo is always making you feel better for being inadequate. A fresh college graduate, it’s a wonder how you managed to snag a position on one of the marketing teams for Japan’s Volleyball Association. Now, in your head, it’s a wonder how you manage to keep the damn position. You just can’t seem to do anything right, and even your coworkers are no longer shy in shaking their heads and sighing every time you mess something up. 

The only person who doesn’t seem to mind the little mistakes you make or the minor trouble you cause is Tetsurou Kuroo, the official unofficial golden boy of the sports promotion division. He’s a bit older than you, but still one of the youngest members belonging to the JVA’s marketing and promotional division. Already, there’s whispers about how Kuroo is most likely going to move up the hierarchy and soon — the Chief of Public Relations position will be opening up due to an early retirement from the current chief, and everyone knows that Kuroo has connections with a majority of the monster generation; not to mention, he’s charming enough to get everyone to go along with what he says.

You admire your senior colleague greatly, and because of your admiration and the fact that he’s the most sympathetic towards you, causing him trouble always makes you feel ten times worse than when you normally mess up. Even if he tells you everything is alright, you’re still frowning, staring down at your shoes. 

“Ah, shit.” Kuroo curses, staring up at the darkening sky as rain starts to descend down on the two of you. “Looks like the storm is coming early.” 

“It’s more like we’re just running late.” You say miserably. Because of you, the client meeting dragged on for even longer than scheduled, and the two of you were already running on a tight enough schedule as is. The JVA needed to secure a contract with a sneaker company to do some joint collaboration billboards, and even with a major thunderstorm predicted for this evening, the company was convinced Kuroo would be able to wrap up the meeting (successfully) and get the both of you on the train home before the storm came.

Now, though, it’s later than when you two were supposed to catch the train, and with the way the weather is worsening at such a rapid speed, it seems like making it to the train station before the last one runs will be impossible. 

“Follow me.” Kuroo tells you, trying to be heard over the wind. You nod, but you don’t expect him to grab your hand. With the wind whipping in your face and the chill of rain soaking through your work clothes, Kuroo’s hand is surprisingly warm. You allow yourself to be practically dragged behind him as he jogs to the nearest inn. Even in a soaked suit, running against the storm’s wind, Kuroo still manages to hold his own just fine. You’re glad his back is turned to you; at least this way, you can admire his athleticism in private.

Kuroo leads the two of you into a nearby hotel. The place looks fancy; way out of your budget. You feel bad as you practically stand there awkwardly, wetting the nice, expensive looking marble floors of the hotel while Kuroo talks to the woman up front. You notice that she’s biting her lip, eyeing the way the fabric of Kuroo’s suit clings to his body because of the rainwater. It only serves to emphasize the muscles he continues to maintain despite no longer playing the sport he’s paid to promote. Seeing the way she’s admiring him gives you a weird feeling inside, so you turn away, avoiding looking at them. 

“Bad news.” Kuroo runs a hand through the wet strands of his hair. “Turns out they’re fully booked. There’s only one room left, but it’s a couple’s suite.”

“Oh.” It makes sense that the two of you would have to spend the night in the city. The trains have probably stopped running now, and with the storm, it’s only reasonable to just wait it out ‘til the morning. “Well… A couple’s suite should be big enough, right?” 

“Space wise, yes.” Kuroo clears his throat. “But it’s for couples. There’s only going to be one bed.” 

Oh. 

You feel heat rising to your cheeks as you let this information sink in. A fancy hotel. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite that only has one bed. And you’re with Kuroo, your very kind, understanding coworker. Your senior colleague. Your manager. Your totally hot manager. 

“What should we do?” You peer up at him, looking at him for the solution. You don’t know it, but he loves the face you make when you’re asking him for help. Your eyes go all wide and seek him out, eagerly awaiting for him to guide you.

“You can have the room. This isn’t the only hotel in existence, so I’ll probably head out and try to find a room somewhere else.” 

“No!” You’re shocked he would even want to go back out in this storm. Your exclamation is literally punctuated with the crack of thunder booming from the sky. “You can’t go back out there.” And because you’re aware of how rude your outburst was, you soften your voice. “Kuroo-senpai, I don’t think it would be reasonable for you to put yourself in harm’s way. We’re both adults, right? I… I don’t mind— We can just figure out the sleeping arrangements when we get into the room?” 

Kuroo smiles. 

“My kouhai has a point. You’re always so sharp, [Name].” 

You don’t know why, but despite the chill of your wet clothes and the air conditioning of the hotel lobby, you feel a warmth settling in your tummy and rising all the way to your chest as you let Kuroo’s praise blanket you. 

For a couple’s suite, there really isn’t much space to work with. The bed takes up most of the room, a grand king-sized mattress, plenty of space for two people to sleep on (and with each other). There’s a tiny loveseat in the corner that might just have been there for decoration or the opportunity to try out a different position, you’re not quite sure. The bathroom is connected, and the place has rose petals all over the floor and floral scented candles lit up. 

Kuroo lets out a whistle. “They weren’t kidding when they said couple’s suite.” 

You can only nod in agreement. 

“Do you wanna shower first?” The minute Kuroo suggests this, you’re instantly aware of just how wet your clothes are. Your white blouse is clinging to your skin, and when you look down slowly, you’re horrified to realize just how transparent the material got when drenched. Before you can get too embarrassed over the situation, Kuroo puts you (or tries to, anyway) at ease, just like he always does. “I’m glad no one else was in the lobby when we came, because I’m sure I look a mess.”

A hot mess, maybe. And hot in the sense that Kuroo looks too good right now. He looks like he just came straight out of a designer cologne ad or something. 

“Y-you can shower first.” You manage to squeak out. “It’s only fair. You’re the one who’s been doing most of the work all day.” 

While Kuroo’s in the bathroom, you’re practically spiraling. How are the two of you going to explain the charge of a couple’s suite on the company credit card? It wouldn’t have been so weird if you had been with one of your female managers or vice versa, but you and Kuroo are the closest in age to each other. The meeting dragged out for far longer than originally planned, and you’re worried about how the two of you will be perceived. If anything, Kuroo has the most to lose. Any enemies of his could easily use this as a way to stop him from getting his well deserved promotion. Oh God, you definitely ruined his shot at promotion. You’re terrible. You’re—

“Seems like someone’s thinking a little too hard.” Kuroo’s teasing tone pulls you from your rapid fire overthinking. 

You wish you hadn’t looked up. Standing in front of you is a shirtless Kuroo, his abs tight and glistening with droplets of water left over from his shower. The white towel is wrapped around his waist, but the view he’s providing is already enough to make you acutely aware of the fact that Kuroo is a man. His normally uncontrollable hair is weighed down with water, damp strands hanging in his face. And he has the nerve to just stand in front of you so casually, as if he isn’t practically naked! 

Maybe you’re the weird one. Great. So you’re practically eye-fucking your manager after despairing over how you basically might be the reason why he’s going to miss out on a great job opportunity. Right after you performed horribly during a client meeting, and then made him save you by finding you shelter in a very nice hotel. 

“I’m the worst.” You groan, frowning as you look up at him. 

“Hey, don’t say that.” He frowns right back at you. “That’s not true at all.” 

“You’re just saying that because you’re nice.” 

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “A lot of people wouldn’t call me nice. It’s sweet that you would, though.” 

“How can that be true? Kuroo-senpai is the nicest person to me at work!” 

“Am I really?” You don’t notice how dangerous the glint in his eyes are, but you do have enough intuition to sense a shift in his demeanor. “Do you like that your senpai is so nice to you?” 

You don’t know what you do to him. It’s why you don’t realize how you’re essentially unchaining the beast locked up inside of him as you reply, “I like everything about Kuroo-senpai.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, because I like everything about my little kouhai, too.” 

Your eyes widen at this confession. The butterflies in your tummy are doing cartwheels right now. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, what you’re seeing. Are you hallucinating right now? That’s the only reasonable conclusion, but as Kuroo leans forward, you find yourself leaning a bit further back, just on instinct. He’s so much larger than you, more imposing. You feel like you have to shrink when he starts to close the distance between the two of you. He places his hands on the mattress you’re sitting on, effectively caging you in between his arms as he leans down even closer to you. So close that a drop of water from his hair lands right on your thigh. 

“Do you like me enough to let me kiss you?” 

Apparently, you like him enough to let him do much more than just kiss you. The kisses start off gentle enough. His lips are a bit chapped, but you like the feel of them against your much softer ones. He swallows up your little desperate whimpers, and he moves at a pace you can adapt to. When he notices you getting more confident in your movements, he gets rougher, more aggressive. It’s not just whimpers that he’s inhaling, now, but moans. Even in the heat of the moment, though, Kuroo still has enough restraint, enough decency, left in him to continue to ask for your permission. 

“Do you like me enough to let me do this?” He asks you, fingers prodding at the buttons of your work attire. You nod weakly, dizzy with pleasure from just a few kisses. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when your bra is revealed to him, and then he’s helping you slip out of your skirt, and he has to take a few seconds to admire the matching lace set you’re wearing. “I didn’t know my little kouhai was hiding this underneath her work clothes.” He mutters, and you can’t help but thrive off of the attention he’s giving you. 

He leans down ‘til his mouth is so close to your ear, you can practically feel the heat of his breath as he whispers, “Does my precious kouhai like me enough to let me play with her cute pussy?” 

You think you’re going to faint. You can barely breathe as you nod your permission, but he merely tsks. “Use your words, sweetheart. Otherwise, I won’t know.” 

He’s toying with you now. There’s a purpose to him asking his questions the way he does; he wants to see how far your admiration, your devotion, to him runs. A workplace crush might let him get away with a few kisses, but what about pounding into your sweet cunt? Do you like him enough to let him do that? 

Apparently, you do. Because you’re getting over your shyness. Because you’re whispering, “Yes. I l-like you enough to let you play with my pussy.” 

“Atta girl.” 

He’s on you within milliseconds. The pretty panties you’re wearing are now on the floor of this hotel room. He’s quick enough to figure out how to unclasp your bra, and that’s thrown to the ground as well. Laying completely bare and exposed, your work senpai wastes no time in having his hands explore your body, feeling out all the curvatures and angles that make you you. 

He takes a finger to pet at your cunt, humming approval when he already feels traces of slick gathering on the pad of his ring finger. “Did you get wet just from a couple lil’ kisses?” 

You don’t want to answer him, turning your head to the side in embarrassment because yes, you did, but his grin only widens. He presses a kiss to your cheek, finding you downright cute. “Don’t be shy. You did nothing wrong.” 

You did nothing wrong. 

He’s always telling you this, and the kind words never fail to make you feel all warm inside. That’s one of your favorite phrases to hear, but somehow, it hits differently whenever he’s pairing that heartwarming phrase with his finger in your cunt. 

“Ah, fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He grunts out, moving his ring finger in and out, in and out. “You know what I think you need? I think you need your senpai’s help in loosening you up. It’ll be good for you, wouldn’t you agree?”

You nod your head enthusiastically, and because you think he might like to hear you say it, you admit what he already knows. “Kuroo-senpai is right. You always know what I need.” 

“Good girl.” The praise has you tightening around his finger, and your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed. He smirks, pleased with how sweet and pliant you are for him. A few bits of praise thrown your way, and you become a slut for him.

It’s a good thing your senpai cares about you so much. He cares about you so much that he’s adding his middle finger to the mix, curling the two fingers against your walls, relishing in your little mewls of pleasure. He’ll have to stretch you out, get you all nice and prepped for his cock. He cares about you, which is why he’s going to let you cum. 

“Feelin’ good?” He asks, knowing that from your moans of pleasure, you definitely are. His fingers work wonders within you, and Kuroo can’t help but admire how cute you are, his little kouhai. What would you do without him, hm? He loves the way your knees jerk and how you whimper every time his fingers curl right up against that sweet spot inside of you, the one your tiny fingers can’t seem to reach no matter how hard you try. Your cute little cunt is already so wet, so ready for his cock, that neither of you can seem to ignore the squelching sounds it’s making as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. When he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tiny figure-eights on the bud, you cry out his name, tacking on that familiar honorific he loves to hear falling from your sweet lips, as you cum all over his fingers. You cum so much that your essence is dripping onto his palm, trailing down to his wrist, and he thinks that this is exactly where you should be, where you always should be. 

“You’re so good for me. Look at how much my good girl came.” He coos, and you should be embarrassed about the mess you made, but when he sings out his praise for you like that, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit proud. 

“Can my good girl make me even prouder? Can you take my cock right now, [Name]?” 

Even if you couldn’t, you still wouldn’t have denied him. It’s a lucky thing, then, that you’re so desperate for him. You spread your legs even wider, inviting him, and who is Kuroo to leave such a precious girl waiting and wanting? It’d be cruel to. 

Which is why he doesn’t make you wait. 

Instead, he plunges his bare cock right into your pussy, groaning with satisfaction as he feels you clamp down on him. Of course you’d be clinging to him; you’re always clinging onto him, always following after him. Such a sweet girl, his lovely, adorable junior colleague. The kouhai who likes him so much, you’d allow him to fuck you nice and hard, to really make use of this couple’s suite and its obnoxious sized bed. 

He quickens his pace almost instantly, giving you no time to adapt to his girth and length. He grins when he sees your little fucked out expression, the way your tongue peeks out from between your pretty, pink lips and the way your cheeks are flushed, your hair a mess. The soft, breathy moans that escape from your mouth. You’re going dumb on his cock, and that’s perfectly fine by him. Let him do all the thinking, anyway. 

Kuroo places a hand on your lower belly, trying to gauge just how deep he’s thrusting into you, and when he finds out, he applies more pressure, pressing down on your soft skin, forcing you to take every inch he has to offer. He’s wringing out soft “ah ah ah!”s from you, and your legs wrap around him almost instinctively as you warn him that you’re about to cum once again. 

“So soon?” He grunts out, grinning meanly. “Normally, senpais don’t expect such slutty behavior from their coworkers, but since it’s me you’re going stupid for, I’ll let it pass.” Your legs are closing in on his body, your whole body jerking a bit as you start to lose control. “Go ahead and make me proud. Cum all over my cock like a good kouhai.” 

The minute the request leaves his mouth, you do. You cum all over his length, as he instructed, and he lets out a short laugh at how devoted you are to him.

“Good girl, my best girl.” He grunts out, fucking your cunt at a leisurely pace now before stilling, letting his own cum flood inside your perfect pussy. “My perfect little kouhai. You did so good for me.” 

And with your cunt full of your senpai’s cum, his cock still plugging you up and keeping everything tucked safely inside, he gives you a rather chaste forehead kiss that has you swooning.

Honestly, you don’t expect much to change between the two of you. It’s not like you think Kuroo’s just going to get down on one knee and let you take his last name or anything. You’re still trying to convince yourself that that night wasn’t some hyper-realistic dream, and the only proof that it was real was the remainder of his cum still settled inside your pussy when you woke up the morning after. 

Kuroo is still a good work senpai, always coming to your defense and fixing your mistakes. 

But you can’t help but wonder if he thinks that night he fucked you is just another work mistake of yours that he has to fix. Because of this, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. So when the director of your team calls you to his office to let you know that the transfer request you put in months ago, way before that night at the hotel, finally got approved, all you can do is bow your head in thanks and return to your cubicle in a daze.

You don’t know what to do, and the person you would normally come to for guidance is the one person you’re trying to minimize interaction with.

However, word of your transfer spreads fast. After all, it’s a cause for celebration when the weakest link of the team is finally moving far, far away. Your coworkers are all being much kinder to you, and in the middle of them congratulating you on your move, you look across the room and lock eyes with Kuroo. His facial expression betrays nothing, but he quickly mouths supply closet before sneaking out of the office.

Five minutes later, you manage to follow him, gently opening the door to the closet, only to be dragged in immediately. The click of the door locking is loud, heard even above your rapidly rising heart beat, and that’s how you find yourself being ravished by Kuroo, during work hours, at your workplace.

When he chastises you for addressing him so casually, you immediately feel terrible. 

“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah?” He growls out, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. “What’re you so sorry for? For avoiding me, or for withholding the fact that you’re going to move all the way to Kyoto?” 

You shake your head, tiny droplets of tears gathering up in your eyes. When you look at him like that, like a little puppy who just got kicked, it only makes him want to ruin you some more, if only so he can have the honor of being the one to piece you right back together again. 

“Senpai, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You wail out. “I was scared that that night at the hotel didn’t matter to you, and I was embarrassed of how I acted then, and I applied to transfer to the Kyoto office ages ago, and when they finally approved it, I didn’t know if it would be smart to pull back my request. I’m sorry, Kuroo-senpai. Please don’t be mad at me.” 

He leans down, pressing his forehead against your own. “Not mad, baby. I was just a bit upset, that’s all.” He rests a hand against your hip, toying with the waistband of your skirt. “You shouldn’t have been embarrassed, though.”

“R-really?”

He nods. “Yeah. I fuckin’ love my little kouhai’s reactions. You shouldn’t be embarrassed around me.” He looks you in the eyes, tugging down your skirt and enjoying the hitch in your breath. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt.”

“I’m sorry!” You squeak out again, and he sighs. 

“If you’re really sorry, you’ll show me.” 

Apparently, the proper way to show him you’re sorry is to get down on your knees, ignoring the cold tile of the closet, and to unbuckle his belt, pull down the zipper of his slacks, and tug at his briefs in order to free his cock. He’s already hard, the tip of his cock an angry red with pearly white droplets of precum already gathering at the head. You shouldn’t be nervous; you had the full length of his dick inside of your pussy, but somehow, the task of taking him down your throat seems rather daunting. 

“C’mon, [Name]. Is my little kouhai getting shy again?” Kuroo teases, gently nudging his cock against your parted lips. Your tongue reflexively comes out, and before you realize it, your giving tiny kitten licks, getting your first taste of salty precum. You must make a face, because he laughs, before carding his fingers through the locks of your hair and suddenly, very suddenly, pushes you forward. 

He isn’t rough, but the presence and pressure of his hand is firm. He doesn’t push you down any further, but the first few inches of his cock is now resting against your tongue, and he’s savoring the warmth of your mouth, groaning as he feels the vibrations of you mumbling something in surprise. 

“Mm, this is a good starting point for an apology, don’t you think?” He muses, knowing that in your current position, you can’t really reply back. “Such a good kouhai for me. What am I gonna do when you move to Kyoto?”

His voice gets a bit huskier as he forces you to take more of his length into your mouth. When he starts thrusting gently, slowly getting you used to the feeling of him fucking your mouth, he lets out a groan. “So good, baby, so good. Do you normally let your senpais fuck your mouth like this?”

You mumble something, finding enough room to shake your head. 

“No?” He says, picking up his face. Every time he thrusts back in, he hits the back of your throat a bit harder, forces more of his length in. “You’re so good at taking my dick right now, though. Don’t tell me that this is your first time?” He looks down at you, eyes lighting up and a smile brightening his expression. “This is your first time sucking off a cock? Of letting someone fuck you like this?” He laughs, the sound full of genuine joy. 

“You’re the fucking best.” He tells you, before tightening his grip in your hair and pushing you down onto his cock. This is the only warning he gives you before you feel spurts of hot cum flooding into your mouth, and your eyes widen in surprise at the sheer amount that’s being poured into you. He lets out a little groan, tilting his own head back in pleasure as he keeps your head pushed down. The stimulation from you gagging around his girth only prolongs his climax, and you still can’t find relief when he pulls out of your mouth because he’s instantly demanding you open up and show him what a mess he made inside of you. 

You whimper, giving into your senpai’s request. You open up wide, sticking out your tongue to reveal the thick globs of white cum coating the appendage. Fuck, just the sight of you all submissive, on your knees, teary eyed and ready to please, mouth full of his cum… It’s enough to get him hard again. 

“You’re the best kouhai in the world.” He hums, patting your head, and you swallow up his praise just like you do his cum. 

[adorekento]

Spice up your life, come get a freak! ⊹ ࣪ ˖

warnings (18+): MDNI. explicit sexual content, sexual fantasies (riding, doggy style, cock warming, masturbation (m), grinding), boss x worker, blowjob, strong language, mature themes, etc.

characters: SUGURU, TOJI, KENTO, SUKUNA, WRIOTHESLEY, AL HAITHAM, CAPITANO, DOTTORE, ( your choice )

Your boss who always frown and only smillin or nodding when it’s necessary—usually only for the higher-ups and stuff

He’s grumpy and quick to scold anyone who slips up or doesn’t meet his expectations.

But you? you’re different..

You do every instructions given to you, sometimes even going above and beyond...

like...

"Should've expected that you'd be good at everything."

He says, smirking as he watches you work your pretty lips around his thick cock. His hand tugs at your hair, guiding you as he groans, feeling the heat of your mouth.

The way you looked up at him with those eyes that were half-lidded and full of desire.. it just makes him feel excited.

It’s funny how he imagined (quite a lot) bending you over his desk with that tight pencil skirt of yours barely keeping your curves as he takes you from behind.

He knows it well that it’s not just him who’s thought about it.

I mean who would NOT think about it?

You literally would always show up at the office looking so hot with those files on your left arm, your makeup that would often match your clothes of long sleeve tops and that pencil skirts of yours that—he can't stop beating his shit to—just look too perfect for you.

It's like you’ve got a whole wardrobe full of those skirts... not like he's complaning tho...

And those stockings of yours..? DAMN.

They make you look even sexier, hell it would always be having people turn their heads everytime you walk by.

It’s utterly hard for him to ignore the way that bulge in his pants grows whenever you’re near.

Especially when you would bend over to pick up those papers you accidentally dropped—the papers he made fall on purpose just to get a better view of that fucking hips of yours.

Surely the other guys in the office had once imagine you on your knees under their desks.. relieving their stress while pretending to focus on their work.

Maybe it's not just him who has fantasies about you riding their cock.. your body trembling with every movement as you grind down on it.

They would always imagine you trying to stay still while he’s buried deep inside feeling you clench around him in the process...

He’d slap that perfect ass of yours if you move too much.

In public, you may look like the epitome of innocence... but there's a side in you that nobody ever saw.

Everyone may think you're that cutesy, sweet, and demure female..

but in private? you're anything but that.

You’re good at keeping that face while being a total freak in the sheets, and that’s what really drives him fucking crazy.

Oh, he was sure you're the spice he needed.

© [ adorekento ] do not steal, repost, or translate my work.

[luveline]

your bombshell!reader x spencer is feeding me so well, i'm obsessed!! SJSJS since we've seen reader jealous, is it possible to have a fic where it's spencer that's jealous?

thank u!! fem!reader

Your outfit today is simple. Pencil skirt, dark stockings, hair pristine. The thing that catches Spencer's attention, holds it between two squeezing palms, is the shirt and blazer ensemble you've styled. It's cut to fit, sleek and dark and hard to look away from. 

You brush past the back of Hotch's chair with a sigh, clearly unaware of the attention you're garnering from across the way. “What's wrong with him?” you ask. 

“The same thing as usual,” Hotch says. 

“It's not like we've ever instantly solved a case. Gideon knows this takes time.”

Elle pokes her tongue into her cheek, eyes flared wide. She says a lot without saying anything, flicking through the police files in front of her dispassionately.

“How come you stayed?”

It takes Spencer a moment to realise you're talking to him. “What?” 

“You didn't go with Gideon?” You hold your chin in your hand. “Not getting along anymore?” 

Spencer isn't not getting along with his mentor. He would've accompanied Gideon to meet with a past mass murderer, only you're here, and so he'd found unrelated reasons to stay. 

“We're fine,” Spencer says, not wanting to say more and give himself away. 

“Well, he took Morgan.” You pout, your voice dripping to a wistful whine. “What am I gonna do now without him? None of you guys ever wanna play with me.” 

Hotch smiles to himself. Spencer's stomach ties itself in knots, a tight noose that grows tighter still when you notice his expression and lean in toward your superior. “What's that smile for, Hotchner?” 

“Don't you have emails to look through?”  

You hold your cheek in your hand lightly, fingertips digging into the soft of your cheek. Your smile is like a kick to the chest, achingly sweet on such a pretty face. “No…” Your pinky digs into the corner of your mouth. “I don't remember that being on my agenda today.” 

“Consider it an addition.” 

Is Hotch flirting back? Spencer isn't sure why that strikes him so hard. Maybe because Hotch would actually have a chance with you if he wanted it; your flirting with Hotch is more real than if it were with Spencer, because Spencer is a twenty-something know-it-all who still dresses like his mom buys his clothes. 

“It's a lot of emails, boss,” you say. 

“You have time. Start with the ones sent by Hughes and work your way down.” Hotch slides the login information across the desk into your reach. 

You look at it unhappily. Look up at him. 

Just being looked at by you is a full body experience. Whenever you look at him, he begs himself to play it cool as Hotch is now, to treat it as the affectionate playfulness of a friend rather than serious flirting. He'd have a better chance of being taken seriously by you if he didn't blush whenever you so much as breathed in the same room. 

He wishes he could respond calmly like Hotch. (He wishes you'd flirt with him and him alone. He buries that deep.) 

Envy eats at his hands. Pins and needles he tries to shake away. His movements draw your attention, and your smile worsens, which is to say sweetens, like seeing him again is a treat for the eyes. 

“You'll help me, won't you, baby?” you ask.

He goes a little blind. 

Hotch and Elle watch the encounter with similar parts pity and amusement. 

“You can read through them so quickly, I could really use your…” —you drag your fingertips down your face until your nails are at your jaw— “expertise.” 

“Reid has his own tasks–” 

“I can help,” Spencer interrupts. 

You drop your hand from your face altogether. “Thank you. Have I mentioned how much I missed you while I was away?” 

“Only five times,” Elle says under her breath. 

“They try so very hard to keep us apart. It's not fair.” 

Because unlike Reid, you don't have multiple degrees. You're still learning, and you can't be here permanently, but your talent, your knack for profiling, is unignorable. You're guaranteed a place on the team as soon as you can prove yourself to Strauss. Without a Gideon to vouch for you, that could take a while, and yet you're never jealous of Spencer skipping a few hurdles to get here. 

If anything, you admire him. “They don't understand our bond, that's all. And together we're hard to beat. Isn't that right, Spence?” 

Perhaps Spencer shouldn't be jealous. You don't call Hotch by anything so saccharine, after all. 

[rinhaler]

step cest, virginity loss and non con with toji pretty please? :3

the contrast between the content ur asking for and then the innocent little :3 face is sending me btw 😩 but u said pretty please so u shall receive!

warnings: 18+ MDNI, noncon, virginity loss, fem!reader, step cest, daddy kink, ddlg, step daddy!toji, no prep, cream pie, dacryphilia, praise, pet names.

words: 1.4k

It’s too much for him.

Seeing how beautiful you’ve grown up to be. You’re so smart and kind, too. He feels like he’s losing you each and every day that he drops you off outside of your university building. He’ll never tire of hearing you express how proud of yourself you are to be the first in your family to get accepted.

But he’s starting to notice a change in you.

You’re wearing more makeup and spritzing more expensive perfume. Your tops are getting lower and your skirts are getting shorter. He notices it all because you’re in such close proximity to him whenever he gives you a ride to your classes. Your scent almost luring him into the deepest depths he can sink. Your naked thighs jiggling in the passenger seat practically begging him to push them apart so he can bare witness to your needy virgin cunt.

And he knows you’re still a virgin.

He hears the phone calls you have with your new friends while you pace back and forth in your bedroom talking about which guys in the class you think are cute. All the while he’s willing himself not to give in to his basic instinct and shove a hand down his pants and jerk himself off to the way you describe what you think sex might be like.

You’re adorably naïve.

You’ve convinced yourself it won’t hurt as badly as everyone says it will. Of course that could be the case if you were to fuck one of the pencil-dicked losers in your class. But it would be different with him. Your first time should be with him.

That’s what he tells himself when he sneaks into your room in the early hours of the morning. He knows you have an 8am class, but you’re such a good girl he’s sure you won’t mind. Hell, he’ll even let you skip it if you behave yourself.

He riled himself up too much thinking about what a fucking travesty it would be if you let some frat boy sully your insides. It can’t happen, it won’t happen. He muses to himself as he sits on the edge of your bed.

Your body slowly reacts to his presence as you blink away at the bleary filter in your eyes. You stiffen slightly when you realise you aren’t alone. When you see a shadowy figure looking down at you, every worst case scenario runs through your head in an instant.

“S’just me, darlin’.” he tells you, your vision comes into focus when you hear the all too familiar voice of your daddy. His hand holds your thigh, soothing you with a simple circling thumb.

“You scared me, daddy…” you sigh, getting comfortable in bed once again. You’re losing the battle against sleep, your eyelids feel heavy as you try to continually fight away the exhaustion. If daddy is here, it must be important, after all.

He’ll keep you safe, though.

You know there’s nothing to worry about with your daddy around.

“Need you to stay still ‘n be quiet for me, yeah? Can you do that?” he whispers. You barely register the sound of fabric being moved as you try and find his eyes in the sea of darkness. You, nod though, immediately proving what a good little girl you are for your daddy.

You feel a chill as he pulls your duvet away from your barely clothed body. It’s like you knew he’d be paying you a visit tonight. He can’t quite see, but wastes no time hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

“Oh, d-daddy?” you speak, quietly squirming a little as he slowly pulls them.

“Thought you were going to be quiet for me, hm?” he reminds you, a gruff tone to his soothing voice. “Be a good girl for daddy, yeah? Let this happen…”

You gulp, nervously, your body freezing at his words as you realise what’s going on. He yanks your shorts away and throws them over his shoulder, you bare cunt on display is making you consider maybe being with your daddy isn’t so safe.

Maybe your daddy doesn’t always have your best interests at heart.

There’s a clacking sound you can’t place. It’s filling the room along with daddy’s groaning. You flinch as you feel the mattress spring back into place before sinking deeper than it had before. Your body is trapped beneath his and you can’t stop yourself from crying. This isn’t how you imagined your first time, this isn’t how you would have imagined any time.

But you’re paralysed.

You’re powerless.

“D-Daddy… I don’t— I don’t… like… this…” you tell him, still unable to stop your tears from falling. You gasp as he effortlessly covers the lower half of your face with the palm of his hand.

You work out the source of that unrelenting clacking sound as he towers above you, furiously touching himself as he prepares to enter your tight heat.

“Of course ya do, sweetheart.” he kisses your forehead repeatedly as he rubs his heavy tip against your virgin slot. You cry into his hand as he begins to push into you at a snails pace. He’d never do anything to intentionally hurt his baby girl. But this is something he can’t control. “This is what little girls like you are made for. Makin’ their daddies feel so good.” he continues.

His emerald eyes are the only thing you can see in the dark abyss of your room. It’s terrifying, how the eyes you had trusted more than anyone else’s are making you want to scream out in fear.

He feels your tears and saliva dampen his hand as he bullies his cock into you. If he had any sort of conscience, he’s sure he’d feel guilty for not even having the decency to prepare you first. But you’re so fucking tight like this. Taking him like such a good girl, swallowing him whole and squeezing around him like he belongs to you.

And besides, no amount of preparation would have readied you for how well-endowed he is.

He rocks his hips into yours again and again, your screams turn to muffled moans beneath his heavy palm as his tip finds it’s sanctuary against your sweet spot. It hurts, fuck, he’s monstrously big and it fucking hurts.

You try to talk to him, words he’ll never understand as his hand stifles you. He isn’t sure if it’s wise to move it. Will you scream and cause a fuss? It’s a big risk. But you’ve always been a good girl. His good girl. So he slowly peels his hand away, your whimpering moans slowly creeping up your airways and running rampant through his perverse mind.

“’m made… made for you? For daddy?” you whisper. He smiles, smothering your voice with an incestuous kiss that neither of you seem to mind. “B-But it hurts, daddy! O-Ow, daddy’s too big for me!” you cry out, a little louder than you’d intended and certainly louder than Toji wanted. He covers your mouth once more, his brutal pace kicking into high gear as he slams his whole weight behind his thrusts.

“Good fuckin’ girl, baby.” he praises you, admiring how your eyes roll over white and your consciousness leaves your body and he pummels everything he has into you. “No one can know about this, got it? You can’t do this with anyone else either. Wan’ you t’be daddy’s special girl… f-forever.” he speaks, hips speech failing as he begins to reach his peak.

He hadn’t expected you to tighten around him, either. He’s gifted you with your first orgasm and your pussy hugging ‘n squeezing around him forces him to reject any concept of pulling out. You have him trapped inside of your previously untainted walls. Thick, white cum coats your insides and he collapses on you as he finishes.

His grunts continue to fill the room. Though they sound like they’re only meant for you to hear as he levels his mouth with your ear. You turn to face him, those familiar green eyes feel so safe again as he looks at you. Like you can trust him with anything. You could tell him any secret and he’d take it to the grave.

But you know better, now.

You know what you are to him.

���W-Why did you do that, daddy?” you ask him, your voice so timid and subdued. You always talk so sweetly to your daddy. He thinks if you didn’t want that, you would be picking a fight with him. You’d be screaming and crying and demanding an explanation. But you’re too sweet for that. You’re too much of a good girl for daddy to do any of that.

“… Because good little girls always let their daddy cum in them first.”

© 2023 rinitxshi

[itachiiwrites]

𐙚 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄¡!

cw. 18+ flithy smut, Sub!Gojo, Dom!Reader, Enemies to lovers, gojo is a virgin and the word loser is used a lot.

AcademicRival!Satoru believed he'll have a merry time getting paired with you for your upcoming assignment, afterall, you were fun to pick on and he adored the way the vein would pop on your forehead after he says something to completely throw you off the tracks. His plan was to make you do all the work while he gets on your nerves to pass his time.

Satoru prides himself in being jack of all trades, he's the captain of the collegiate basketball team, student body president, has 4.0 GPA in his astrophysics major and is on the dean's list, his stunning good looks were to kill for and to add to those never ending positive attributes he's filthy rich, if it wasn't so obvious by his sports car's raging engine whenever he drifts it around in the campus. Gojo Satoru was a star. Gojo Satoru was game.

Admirers and people lining up for him was no big of a deal, it is the routine when you're him. You're one of the many people who find him fascinating, find him attractive (which was something you would never admit to, even if a ceiling fell over you) but still, why was he shaking his legs underneath the table while he watches the furrow of your brow focused on the screen in his dorm room? He's way too distracted to read this paper about Aesthetics and Marxism—he only took up sociology because it was a humanities requirement within his course and also because he was utterly, out of his mind bored.

Feeling the burning gaze of his abnormally blue eyes, you slam your fist onto the table and anyone who was in their right mind would be able to decipher that your expression was twisted in unfiltered annoyance, the mask of a small, pleasant smile as your veins popped on your forehead was failing miserably. "We could get a lot done if you didn't think this was a staring contest"

"Wow, really? I did think it was a staring contest with how boring all this is" He mocked knowing it would only agitate you further, his eyes shamelessly trailed over the plushness of your thighs and how the skirt fabric sat on top of it, his thoughts were digressing, wondering about the colour of your pant—

"What are you looking at, pervert..?" You point it out to break the unholy chain of his thoughts immediately, his eyes widened by being caught off-guard, evading away to focus on the papers in front of him, lasering his eyes to aim at understand at whatever 'Russian constructivism' meant, his fist gripped the pencil tighter and tighter as he felt unbelievably panicked at being caught, the trance of embarrassment breaking away along with a sharp 'snap' of the pencil.

With a faltering attempt to maintain his cockiness, Satoru looked at you. "Just looking at how much of a loser you look, even broke a pencil because it's annoying how nerdy you dress" a painful roll of his eyes followed by, but his ventures to cover the way he felt were too poor and what was the parameter? The goddamned seductive smile on your pretty lips.

Gojo Satoru was game, but he was a fucking virgin.

"Lying is not going to save your ass, I can literally see the tent in your pants, what are you..a teenager..?" The mockery in your eyes and the superiority you had over him in that very moment was enough to make him let go of his guards and feel his knees buck. You were beautiful and he was so pathetically down bad for that.

"Unlike you, I have many things to excel at..who has time for something as stupid as this anyway" You had to give some kudos for the fact that his voice remained balanced despite the throbbing erection in his pants, and you made a face with slanting pursed lips that was to show him you believed him, although anyone could tell you didn't.

"what is with that face? You think you're better than me? What do you know about sex, having your cute nose burried in those stupid books all day.." And that statement makes you raise your brow, Satoru Gojo, called you cute? This was something, this was when he knew he messed up and you had all the power.

"Why don't I show it to you then? You wanna be a loser in this one area? Come on.. you're better than that, right?" Satoru gulped, the offer was beyond tempting, all those fantasies he ran his mind for while wrapping his hand around his cock in his dark dorm room, relieving himself while yearning for the warmth for your mouth and cunt—finally had the chance to be fleshed out to life. It was tempting indeed but what about his ego?

"Sure, I bet you suck at this too" He huffed a laugh with his faux confidence, only to be miserably proved wrong within a few minutes.

"Please— fuck! Your mouth feels so good.." He breathed heavily with an almost violent rise and fall of his chest, his legs sprawled wide as he was on the couch of his room and you, his beautiful arch-nemesis was skillfully using his cock like it was your personal toy. Satoru didn't feel he was being sucked off for his pleasure, he was being sucked off to be proven of the fact that you were in control here.

He reached his trembling hands to tangle within your locks as you let a thick glob of your spit fall onto his tip with a grin, tantalisingly rubbing it on your glossed lips. "Better than your stupid fist right?" And he moans at that degradation, his eyes marbeling with glassy tears, your pride swelled more than anything.

"Ever seen tits in real life? Or are you that much of a loser to have Inoue Waka as your wallpaper.." You teased further, unbuttoning your blouse and unfastening your bra from the front to spill out your breasts and Satoru's brain simply short circuits the moment the cushiness of your tits gather around his cock and he feels the tightening sting on his abdomen, dripping out loads of his cum onto your tits, painting you like the masterpiece you were with thick ribbons of his ejaculate.

You hum, licking a long strip from his base, swirling your hot tongue around his softening, sensitive frenum as he is limp by the pleasure.

"There's no way you're this good.." He spoke, almost sounding as if something unbelievable happened, almost angry.

"Such a good boy 'Toru.." You giggle in response, kissing his abdomen and he feels pathetically, helplessly in love with you.

Gojo Satoru was game, but you were a roulette.

[suksatoru]

YEAH MY BOYFRIEND'S PRETTY COOL, BUT HE'S NOT AS COOL AS ME!

the loser known as tomura shigaraki manages to fall for the prettiest and most popular girl at his university—you.

loser tomura, who's heart felt like it was beating out of his chest when you chose the empty seat beside his in class. out of all the people you could've sat next to, you chose to sit beside him. he would've usually been beyond annoyed if it had been anyone else, but when he turns his head to meet your gaze with narrowed eyes—his heart skips a beat at the sight of your sugary sweet smile.

loser tomura, who can't focus in class anymore. he's as stiff as a board beside you, your scent consuming his senses as he slumps in his seat, trying not to glance down at your thighs as you shift in your seat and try to get comfortable. your skirt flowed over the soft flesh, and he can't think of anything else besides ravaging the plush skin with his tongue.

loser tomura, who offers to tutor you when you whine to him about how you don't understand the latest unit. he's a stuttering mess when you ask him to meet you at the library that day. he tries to look as presentable as possible, his insides giddy with delight as he finds you sitting at a table with a hot chocolate in hand for him. he doesn't think he's ever had such a good time—watching you pout and twirl a pencil between your fingers as he sipped on the warm drink beside you had been the highlight of his week.

loser tomura, who always helps you with your classwork and homework. he's desperate to please you in any way he can. known to the class as the biggest grump ever—you thought of him as a sweetheart.

loser tomura, who is utterly obsessed with you. he'd follow you to your dorm after class—ensuring you entered the building safely every night before trudging to his apartment. he kept tabs on you during the weekends too, taking note of the parties you attended and who your friends were. you'd dance in your pretty dresses completely oblivious to the creep standing in the corner of the room, watching you with that hopeless smile of his.

loser tomura, who thinks he's in love with you. what else can explain the way his heart swoons at the sight of you? he doesn't have the courage to confess, the thought of you rejecting him and cutting ties an overwhelming fear of his. losing you would be the greatest loss of his life. so, he'll settle with loving you from afar. as long as you remain in his life, unsuspecting and happy—what more could he ask for?

loser tomura, whos dreams are plagued of you. he can't stop thinking about your smile and gentle eyes, how your hair would look fisted and tangled between his fingers and the way you chew on the cap of your pen whenever you're working out a particularly difficult problem.

loser tomura, who looks forward to seeing you every. single. day. he loves when you tell him good morning and ask how his night was—he adored the way you'd scoot closer to hear his quiet and raspy voice when the class was being too chatty and how his crude jokes always enticed those little giggles from your lips. oh, how he'd love sinking his teeth into the gummy flesh.

loser tomura, who walks into class one day and sees another man in his seat—adamantly pressing kisses all over your mouth as you smiled feverishly. he can see the mystery man glide a shameful hand under the fabric of your skirt as he caresses your thigh, whispering all sorts of things in your ear that left a pink dust on your cheeks

loser tomura, who turns around and walks right out of class before you can catch sight of him. what an asshole that guy was for swooping in and taking what was his like it was nothing. tomura was pissed.

tomura, who considered himself a winner when he managed to pick up enough dirt on your stupid boyfriend to get him expelled from the university. you cried that week, whimpering on about how you had no idea he was such a terrible person who cheated on the entrance exam and blackmailed students.

tomura, who took advantage of your scattered mind that night when he latched his desperate lips onto yours to stop your cries. he was in heaven as he slipped his greedy tongue into your mouth and tasted what he could only dream of before—worshipping you and your body that night the way you deserved to be.

tomura, who walked into class late the next morning and feeling on top of the world with you behind him, a shy smile on your face as you tell your professor you fell asleep at your boyfriend's apartment.

tomura, who would soon learn you were everything and more than his greatest fantasies.

[worldsover]

Professor Knows ft. Arin

(5.5k words)

You’re seated at the front of the lecture hall, and you’re not sure if you’re in class, or a movie theater with an actress playing a prank for some hidden camera, and here comes the host ready to pop out at any time; hold in your jaw, please. But no, that’s Professor Arin, and everyone here thinks it’s normal that her white pinstripe dress shirt and her gray skirt are both short enough to reveal so much skin that you’re already picturing her naked so that if you were to be saying a speech in front of a thousand people, that’s 1/1000th down to make the task easier.

That’s Professor Arin, teaching passionately, and you don’t give a damn about what you’re learning because this isn’t your campus, and you just wanted to get to graduation already—well, those are the excuses. You don’t give a damn because you’re drooling at the so-called professor dressed more like a slutty schoolgirl/pornstar emulation of one, or at least you have to hold back from drooling. 

You are mesmerized by her perfect hourglass figure, and her heels—goodness, those heels. In her knife-thin heels, she’s rocking an entire lecture hall like she’s that one summer fling that got away, stabbing at hearts and bleeding them dry. How do your classmates do it? How can they concentrate with those hips swaying, and a pencil skirt so tight you can read a book on her ass? How can you focus when she bends over to pick up a dropped pen, and you’re one millimeter away from seeing the absolute territory? You’d call it collective self-control of an entirely different level.

It could be how friendly and bubbly she is. Overtly touchy with all her students, she treats everyone like longtime personal friends, casually grabbing arms and shoulders, patting backs and heads, and no one minds because why would they. The only one minding is you since she doesn't treat you the same way. You would often shift in your seat as the fabric of your pants becomes taut against your honesty whenever she catches your gaze.

And whenever she catches your gaze, for a beat, your heart stops. But then she smiles impassively and continues her lesson without any chalance. You exhale, relieved she didn’t read your mind.

That’s how it goes on for the entire semester: hell on earth, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Or so you believed. Arin, as it turns out, is omniscient or psychic or maybe just some hair-level more observant than an average student like you—she's the one at the front of the class after all. She knows everything she's doing to you. She must. You hope. Pray. Beg.

Arin calls you into her office one day. This is it. The rumors. She’s a total nympho, a freak, down for anyone half good-looking, and you’d say you’re not so bad yourself.

She's sitting down in her leather chair, her crossed legs revealing just a hint of lace-adorned thighs; you lose your cockiness the moment you're inside the room. You're captivated by the soft, warm lighting that illuminates Arin's flawless features. Her lips are a shade of red that begs to be tasted, and you wonder what those luscious curves must feel like against your own. You swallow a dry lump in your throat, mentally willing your erection to subside.

"Sit down," she purrs, her voice as sensual as silk against your overheated skin. Her eyes never leaving yours, she uncrosses her legs and recrosses them in a way that makes her skirt ride even higher. That's more of her thighs. Less of your sanity.

Your fingers clench into fists at your sides and then you take a seat in the chair across from her, acutely aware of the space between you.

"So, Mr. Lee," she begins, raking her eyes over you, "I've called you here today because I've noticed something... interesting about you." Her voice trails off, and she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table separating you. You swallow hard, fearing and praying for what she might say next.

"Interesting?" you manage to croak out, cursing yourself for sounding like a lovesick puppy. Arin has reduced you to a puddle of hormones with a single look.

"I’ve noticed your… attention in class," she says, removing her glasses, and you're done for. "I want to make sure all my students are participating, fully engaged."

"I am, Professor," you whine.

"Just call me Arin," she says.

You blush. "Arin, of course."

Space becomes even more of an attention hog; the room feels like it shrunk a thousand times its size now, every one of your heartbeats echoing off the four walls, the bookshelves as your eyes follow her fingers, which now travel up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. Your breath catches in your throat as she uncrosses her legs, revealing just so the white fabric of her panties. Arousal hits you like a ton of bricks, your cock throbbing in your pants. You swallow hard, trying to moisten your mouth as she gets up from her chair and sits on her desk instead.

Then, she touches you for the first time, like she's your classroom crush, finally noticing your feelings, and you can believe that easily, the woman at most a few years your senior. It's a simple touch, a brush of her index along the back of your hand and wrist, yet it's enough to spike the little hairs onto ends like you're touching a Van de Graaff generator. The moment she lets go: there's the blue-white snappy little spark. At this heightened state of awareness, your eyes are flies or bumblebees or hummingbirds, your heart the latter's. You can't make sense of anything else but her.

"I think we both know why I called you in here, don’t we?" she asks, her voice husky.

Now, it's your turn to speak up. Choose your next move wisely.

You say, slowly, "I need to… learn. My lesson."

Arin nods, hops off the edge of the desk. Her smile turns from sultry to goofy. (How’d she do that?) "Exactly!" She pushes a couple of papers in front of you. "Practice these cast studies, I’ll have you read them for the class next lecture."

You were about to get hit by a truck, didn’t get hit by a truck, and felt disappointed that you didn’t get hit by a truck. You take the papers, nod, and leave with your head down. She waves bye when you look back.

Fast forward to the next lecture. You’re a hot mess. You didn’t sleep, rehearsed those damn lines a hundred times as if you were some damn actor. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can’t for the life of you stop staring at her high heels and gym-toned midriff, showcasing themselves like they were on display.

Your turn comes around, and Arin nods at you to read aloud. You take a deep breath, step forward, and start reading. Your voice is shaky at first but soon, you find your rhythm. Her encouraging looks don’t help, her leg bouncing up and down playfully. Occasionally she’d take her glasses off, chew on the end of them...

Your mind starts to wander into dirty places you'd rather not mention here, but suffice to say, your pants are a little too tight now. It has you stumbling over words when you thought you had it. You force yourself to focus on the text in front of you, but it’s near impossible when she leans in and whispers in your ear.

"Mmm. Getting warmer," she says.

Your voice cracks a little as you try to regain control of your senses but it was no use; you were all hers now. Arin has successfully reduced you to putty in her hands with just one sexy whisper-purr hybrid thing she did so well.

You finish the rest of the reading, and when you look up, you see her staring at you, eyes hooded. It means nothing; you’ve learned this quickly. There’s no truck to be hit by, just the ghost of a promise of one.

You’re in the club later that night, and your balls are ocean/sky/blue-raspberry blue. You down your fourth shot of vodka, determined to forget about it all. There are a lot of girls here. Your friends are going for it. Good for them. They’re all from your old campus, so they would have never met Arin. That adds up.

"You okay, man?" Dongwoo asks, patting you on the back.

You down another shot. "Fine, just fine," you slur.

"She was something, wasn’t she?" he asks, grinning like an idiot. You can only assume he was talking about some girl you must’ve hit on.

"Arin?"

The world tilts on its axis as Dongwoo whips his head around so fast you fear for his neck health. "How do..."

"Long story." You wave him off and order another round, beer this time. "Tell me more."

Dongwoo leans in and starts spilling, but all you can think about is the way Arin looked at you today in class. And how her voice curled itself around your cock like a python around a deer and squeezed just as tightly.

You think about it so much that when you get back to your dorm on campus, stumbling around, world spinning, you make your way to that very lecture hall.

And then you sober up, real fast.

Moans fill the large room. Thick, throaty, oh-god-yes moans.

"Fuck," you gasp, covering your mouth as you peek through a small crack in the door. "She’s..."

Arin, your perfect goddess of a professor, is on the floor, skirt hiked up, glasses askew, as her fingers work in and out like engine pistons.

Your heart pounds as you watch Arin pleasure herself on the lecture hall floor, her soft moans filling the room. She arches her back, her free hand groping her breasts through her silk blouse as her fingers delve deeper. You can't tear your eyes away from the erotic display, mesmerized by the way her body writhes with each thrust of her fingers.

A quiet whimper escapes your lips, and Arin's eyes suddenly lock onto yours through the cracked door. At first, she tenses up, but then, her face softens, and she’s smiling. Then she’s frowning and shaking her head. You know this, understand this, are running through the whole gamut of emotions yourself. You’ve heard the rumors are true, to an extent. She has indeed slept with every professor, male and female, that she’s deemed decent enough. Never crossed a line with a student.

You're frozen in place, unable to move as Arin saunters over to the door, her fingers still wet with her juices. She smells like sex and orchids, two of your favorite things now that you think about it. She closes the door behind you, then laughs at you.

"You smell like booze," she says. She’s wearing that same outfit, the skirt so short you’re ready to go all-in on temperance, whip the ruler out, have her punished for wearing something so scandalous if whatever lord above smite her now, you don’t blame His lightning. Her thighs are a juicy steak—the juice is a trail of something clear.

You look down. "Y-you… you smell like…"

Arin doesn’t know what to do with her hands like how you don’t know what to do with your hands. She also lowers her head. "Fuck. I really, really shouldn’t do this."

Two breaths, heaving, yours and hers.

"You’re right. I’m sorry, Prof—"

She presses her index finger against your lips, and you get a close whiff of her taste. "Why are you apologizing? It’s my fault. And… Arin."

"Can I call you Noona?"

Arin giggles. "Sure."

"Noona," you mumble, your heart in your throat, "I shouldn’t have—"

"Then why are you still standing there? If you’re going to apologize, at least do it right."

"A-apologize?"

Arin rolls her eyes and pulls you toward the seating. When she sits down, your spot, front of the class, she brings you to the floor, where you can see her skirt hiked up even higher. "I was so close, but fine. Apologize for interrupting me by…" She inclines her head toward her wet panties. "You know what to do, right?"

You never thought you’d be kneeling where you pay halfhearted attention to useless studies, but sure, this is church now. Pray. Pray at the altar of the space between Arin’s thighs which heaven envies for lack of same glory, or the idyll garden where the cuff of her socks squeezes the ample flesh. You hesitate, taking in her scent. It’s so much stronger here. So much more Arin.

"Hurry up. Don’t make me regret this." Her fingers in your hair—oh, you won't make her regret this, no, no. You press your lips to her thighs, kissing your way up her inner thighs with a fervor that would make the most devout jealous as you lick-suck-peck at the bare skin and taste the sweat on your tongue, delicious and tangy and a hint of that musky flavor. Oh, she’s been dripping for a while.

Your cock reacts, throbbing in your pants like you haven't had a single drink tonight, as you finally reach the holy of holies.

Arin’s thigh-high clad legs are wrapped around your head, depriving you of basic breath, but you don't care. This is the rapture, and you’d die for her right now and be satisfied. You slide your tongue between her folds, lapping at the nectar she so generously shares as her moans spur you onward. You can hear her panting above you, feel her rocking into your mouth in time with your ministrations. She tastes better than any woman you've ever been with, salty like the sea and as sweet as honey.

"Fuck," she gasps, and you faithfully redouble your efforts. Her grip tightens on your hair as she grinds against your face, and it’s a miracle you don’t pass out from oxygen deprivation or an erection that won't quit. "Yess," Arin hisses, her heels digging into the ground.

"Fuck!" Her juices flood your mouth in a tidal wave of orgasmic release as you swallow every drop like a good little student. She squeezes your face tightly between her thighs, forcing every last drop out of her before finally letting go with a shudder.

"Fuck…" she breathes out, combing her fingers through your hair. "That was unexpected."

Arin blushes, and you smile into her crotch. Reluctantly, you pull away, then return to your seat as Arin adjusts her skirt and glasses, straightening her hair. As you lean back on your heels, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, proud and embarrassed by your performance."Did I do good, Noona?"

Arin laughs out a low and throaty sound. "Oh, you did more than good. But I think it's my turn to apologize now."

"Why?" you ask.

She smiles slyly, reaching down to grab your hand and pull you to your feet. "Because I've been teasing you all night." Arin leans in, her warm breath dancing over your ear. "And I’m not one to leave a task half-finished."

Led by the hand, you follow her into her office, leaving the empty classroom behind. The door closes with a resounding click, sealing you both inside. So this is where the real lesson begins.

The office is a complete one-eighty from the cold, sterile environment of her classroom. You didn’t realize it before, too focused on her to see anything else. Warm, rich colors greet your eyes, and the scent of vanilla and sandalwood fills the air. Arin's desk is a sea of ​​piled-up papers and knick-knacks, but she clears a space for you as she pushes them aside.

"Sit," she commands, motioning to the plush leather chair in front of her desk at as she locks the door behind you with an audible click. The sound of the lock engaging sobers you up at once.

Arin, your professor, just had her way with your mouth and now you're about to... what? Your mind reels with possibilities as she saunters around the room, slackening her black tie and unbuttoning her blouse one button at a time. Each button revealed another inch of porcelain skin, bared for your hungry eyes only. Her dress shirt hangs loosely on her now, just like her tie, and now you can see how her lace panties match her bra. You wonder if this was all planned or a serendipitous coincidence. Arin shimmies out of her panties, then turns around, which lifts her skirt just enough to show off her ass. Arin’s ass is a sort of cryptozoological being that earns hushed whispers at the end of lectures—did you catch the crease of her cheeks when jumped to pull down the blackboard, or did you see how it jiggled when she jumped to pull the blackboard down? But here, in the bare flesh, with its goosebumps and every trajectory, a hushed whisper is too quiet for Loch Ness or Bigfoot’s more famed sight. Her ass makes your mouth water. It makes the desert water. The sun waters. If there were a shape to describe it… yet circle, then perfect, then slappable each inch ever closer to an apt description as apt as the appleness of oranges—now there’s another inch closer: Arin’s ass is juicy. Yet, you can’t even render anything above mute: porcelain skin glowing in the dim light and that pussy... that enticing wetness between her legs, glistening with arousal.

"You must be hard," she says, academic, as though stating fact off a lecture slide or textbook.

You might not graduate with any particular honors on your diploma. Where is honor or prestige and how could it be written down: you have your professor on her knees under her desk, grasping tight on your cock; this can't go in the transcript. (Magna cum loudly—that’s how. If it were not written, lest the porn titlers monopolize this for themselves.)

"You don't know the half of it," you say, and she smirks because she knows more than you, with the proof in her fingers, uncoiling you free.

Digits that hold red pens and chalk and sheaves of paper are now working their magic on your straining erection, already at full mast, but here the flag might fly further such that flagging no longer can belong to that cloth the flaps in the wind because it would not be so accurate a description. Arin watches you squirm, her eyes glinting with mischief and something else you can't quite place. Pride, maybe? As if she's always known this day would come and has been waiting for it.

You're so hard her grip doesn't even feel particularly tight, but when she looks up at you through those glasses, that impassive facade in tatters? That is the tightest leash your heart has ever worn. Her lips are a soft pink, colors you might see on her dress on occasion, and she parts them—the colors you see are a hot white flash, how did she get you down so quickly, and good lord if he were good you’d need his help to last. There is no way she’s this skilled at this unless she’s been practicing like it’s a side job. Her head bobs up and down, each movement accompanied by a moan that vibrates along your cock. She looks up at you through her glasses, more spit on them now, impassive as a hurricane. You make eye contact; it’s all you can do to avoid cumming right then and there, however paradoxical since her glare is saying all you need to hear. Don’t cum. Don’t cum or I fail you. Don’t cum or you’re punished—well, that doesn’t sound so bad.

Releasing and letting out a sharp gasp, Arin lets your erection flop into your stomach, spit-messy and begging. "Good boy. You pass."

As all she speaks, this too is a truth: you pass—into the next life—no time to process how she rips open a packet of latex with her teeth, places it into your length with her mouth, pushes you down onto the desk, one knee on either side of your thighs as she hovers over you.

"I’ve wanted this," she says, grinding against your tip, "since the first day you walked into my class."

"Oh, really, professor?" you manage to croak out, and damn it all if she doesn’t laugh, sexy and low in her throat.

"Don’t call me that right now." Arin sounds so stern saying that, stern like you've never heard her before. Then, in a smooth motion, she sinks herself down, takes all of you in one go, and moans out "fuck me" not nearly so severe. Her inner heat grips you more than the condom could hope, and her soft groans and profanity drain the office of its dry air as if it were never there. Well, the draining is less the sound, and the dry less the extant, both because of what surrounds your cock.

You hold on for dear life as Arin rides you like she's trying to break something, but with no handles to save you, nor any mercy in her movements—up, down, side to side, her black tie and open shirt flapping about—you can only grip her hips and hope to keep up. It’s nothing new for how new it is. This is just like how she treats you, how she treats the class. Just like the rumors. She’s in charge, knows what she’s doing when she has you under her—the metaphorical thumb becomes the literal body; the pretense becomes past tense—and fuck, her body.

The sounds of slapping aren’t your work (yet); that’s her thick thighs and ass smacking against your crotch, hard enough to make her pleated skirt fly wildly. Then, her adorable tits, clad in that black lace, call out to you, have you leaning your head forward in some desperate maneuver to capture them in your mouth.

"Touch me." Arin guides your hand to where she's dripping wet, where her clit throbs impatiently. She arches her back at the simplest circle your fingers can manage, and you’re feeling more at home here, less regret. You’re also palming at her breasts over cloth, and she abates her rhythm to unclasp her bra, letting you have a taste of her nipples, firm and delicious in your gentle teeth and lips. That’s another handle, her breasts a needy handful to be kneaded.

You don’t have the right to command your professor, nor the will. The closest thing to a request is how you grab her loose tie, earning a pleasured squeal, and a harder ride. Hard enough her glasses might fall off. As always, she knows you and your wishes, no need for words: nails dig into your thighs, fingers run through your hair, hands explore all over your body. The touch sends you way too close to tripping off a cliff in a car crash that ends in explosion that might fill latex to its brink, so you do end up with a command, albeit expressed physically as you grab her waist to peel her off you.

When she pouts, she truly looks more like the schoolgirl in your fantasies than the professor who has your graduation at ransom. And how is it that you're the one with any sort of leverage in this situation? Maybe you can tell by her eyelids, falling close, mouth, falling open. Whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it right. You flip her over onto her stomach, pressing her into the cool, smooth surface of her desk with a resounding thud. She whimpers, arching her back and presenting her still-slick pussy to you like an offering. But instead of sliding your cock inside right away, a recipe for disaster and early nights, something else calls out to you. Her asshole, like a forbidden fruit, beckons you to your knees, and you spread her cheeks apart, flipping her skirt up and bringing her tight entrance into full view of your face.

You start with a kiss on the pale skin. "May I? Noona?"

She giggles, no semblance of a mind in the airy noise. "Please."

Continuing with more pecks, tender and loving on her beautiful behind, some kisses along her thighs where they’re squished by thigh-highs, then you get closer and closer until your mouth is around her asshole. While you undertook this sabbatical to let your furious erection and imminent orgasm simmer down, the first taste of your tongue inside of her ass does no favors for your arousal. Tangier, saltier, and hotter than you could have imagined, Arin's tightness envelopes your tongue in a way that makes you groan, the vibration resonating through her. Her fingers grab at the edge of the desk as she moans out your name, or maybe it's "fuck" and "yes," but either way, you know you've struck gold.

You lace your fingers through her folds while you deepen your one-sided French kiss, tonguing her anal passage.

"Oh, god. Yes, right there!" she squeals between pants, rocking her hips back and forth.

As much as you'd love to continue this exquisite torment, there are other needs to attend to. Withdrawing your tongue from her ass, you see a strand of her pussy juice connecting her thigh gap. You stand up, lining up your latex-covered length with her cunt. "Ready for me, Noona?" you ask, though you already have the slick cheat sheet answer on your fingers.

As you press your hardened cock against the velvet folds of her intimacy, you position yourself to plunge into her waiting warmth. However, instead of granting that eager penetration, you ruthlessly tease her entry with the rugged tip before pulling away prematurely. As though left bereft in a hollowness only your presence could fill, she instinctively chases after your ghostly retreat. She gasps out impatient words underscored by carnal desperation, "Don’t tease me. Fuck me already!"

The sharp crack of your palm on her round ass cheek echoes in the small office. A blossom of pink blooms on her fair skin.

Bunching her cheeks apart with strong fingers, you terminate all playful actions as snug heat engulfs your cock.

Each rhythmic thrust into Arin is executed with a savage fervor that serves to claim dominion over every inch of her, to take all semblance of control. Take everything she knows and transform that knowledge into this snapshot crackling sensation that’s reducing her to sobs and groans. Fuck the unspoken implications and the quiet tension built up throughout the school year. You thrust into her like loud is the only path forward, and this path of volume is where Arin follows you. A single tug on her makeshift ponytail prompts her grip at the edge of her desk, and whimpers turn to screams, screams that might hazardously fill the hallways. When she glances over her shoulder, you can see her whole face pleasure-wracked. It takes one or two more plunges for her to surrender completely, tight contractions traveling rhythmically over your engorged cock. Trembling through spasming ecstasy, her whole body reacts, but especially her substantial thighs. Despite how tight she gets, you don’t stop pumping until she’s flowed through her entire orgasm.

After you pull out into much cooler air (the condom covered in her nectar), Arin recovers from climax with a surprising quickness, bewildered half-laughs at her own highs. "You might be my favorite student now."

Even though she says it playfully, you still take it to heart, feeling a delighted warmth in your chest. So you thank her with all sincerity.

Rising to her feet, she takes hold of your erection with a lip-bite. She leads you cockwise toward her window, looking back at you through her glasses with a smirk that steals air. One moment she looks cute, the next she’s a succubus, a natural-born seductress.

Once Arin turns around, her palms seize contact with the cool glass window, presenting herself to you for another round. As though framed by the night herself, Arin couldn't be more exposed if she tried. Although it's late at night, the possibility of someone catching sight of Professor Arin, compromised and partially clothed, lingers in your mind. These moments are when and where and how rumors are born. But you refuse to let that hold you back.

Once again, you piston into Arin, fucking her standing. The darkness turns the window into a mirror, reflecting Arin's expressions of pure bliss. Watch the tantalizing bounce of her breasts in her open shirt, the glistening beads of sweat navigating downward across her lithe abdomen, how she’s forced onto tiptoes to thrust right back into you—it’s sensory overload.

You grab each of her wrists and pull them back, getting all the leverage you can to fuck her like a ragdoll manufactured for taking all the punishment you can give, skewering her body to the windowpane with your cock. Her face and glasses push against the window with each firm thrust, and how she’s given into you, it’s time to steer off the edge.

"Gonna fucking cum," you tell her, your hips working at a fiery pace, your pulsating cock gripped over and over by her insatiable pussy.

"Yes! Yes!" At this moment, there is no professor and student, only two creatures consumed by instinct. She is nothing more than a debauched schoolgirl in her uniform (only halfway so), eagerly taking everything you give her. And you give it to her.

Withdrawing just long enough to strip off the barrier between you both, you offer yourself hand-guided satisfaction, as you reward Arin with sticky shots of cum onto her lower back, each dimple and dip soaked by pools of your load. Some of it gets onto her cropped

The two of you laugh as you both stumble back into her desk. She gets tissues and hands them to you, so you clean the evidence.

Steering yourself onto the creaking chair leather, you’re soon joined in cozy proximity by Arin who nestles comfortably into your lap, her head into your neck’s crook.

"So does that mean I get free grades, Noona?"

She slaps your arm—and that familiarity is enough to picture domestic life with her as your partner, the sort of casual delusion she engenders. "Don't even joke about that!" Arin giggles, pretty and unabashed like everything else about her.

You scoff. "That's where you draw the line?"

Displaying rare seriousness, she narrows the gap between familiar lips so close it feels like sharing a breath. "You still smell like soju, you know." Her hand moves up to your hair, taking stock of you in your ruin and bliss. "God, you're so cute. I shouldn't be doing this."

"Well, you did," you point out.

She nods, and nods, and laughs, until nothing separates lips anymore, sealing the context between professor and student, which somehow fits perfectly... like missing puzzle pieces that finally found each other, or a story that’s found its climax in this moment. The intimate tangle in her office chair goes from tongues to jaws to lower and intimate. Arin kisses the muscles of your chest, and you kiss the valley of her breasts.

"Why do you wear stuff like this?" you ask as you hold open her cropped shirt.

"Because I can," she says with all earnestness, and you believe her; it’s just as you figured.

Looking down at her thigh-highs, you tell her, "You know you look like an amateur camgirl."

"Ooh, now that’s an idea." Arin goes for your throat in literal and other ways.

As you make out with the straddling Arin, you return the favor with her own hickey, which you notice at class the next morning. You're proud of the little purple thing there on her skin, the opposite of proud of the whispers they cause. But like all things Professor Arin, these pass. And like all things Professor Arin, she winks, and you too pass.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

[nymphoniah]

Ooh if you're taking requests, Can I request a Logan Howlett x reader smut?, Reader pranks Logan by telling him that she's on her period and that it will last 2 weeks, to which he actually believes her. However Logan eventually catches on to her lie and he goes absolutely feral by ripping her clothes off and punishing her while saying "You kept my pussy away from me, how dare you"

white lie | logan howlett

pairing: old man!logan x afab!reader

AN: ohmygodddd!! someone needs to restrain meee. i can see pussy starved!logan being super selfish when it comes to your cunt. practically abuses it—he does it just to spite you, for making him wait to taste you. chat i NEEED him.

content/tags: NSFW (18+), minors DNI. old man!logan, period comfort, porn with plot, p in v sex, spit as lube, pet names (sweetheart, doll, etc.) a little bit of mean!logan, missionary, doggy style, fingering, daddy kink, breeding kink, creampie

it's been a while since you started taking birth control, almost about a year or so. despite the name of the medication, you initially took the pill to fix your hormonal imbalances. at first, your periods were irregular, and extremely painful, and of course, logan would do anything to help alleviate the pain.

he wasn't really one for domesticity, but that’s something that you changed that about him.

how could he ever refuse to take care of a sweet little thing like you?

logan would pamper you, refuse for you to get out from bed whenever the week of your period came. you wanted a cup of water? don't move, he'll be right back with a glass. you didn't want it with ice? logan profusely apologies, and returns back to your side with lukewarm temperature water.

sure, these things seem menial, but seeing logan's brooding figure rush around the apartment, struggling to find your heating pad that you use for cramps; his brain scrambling over how it was safe to throw something like that in the microwave. it brought a smile to your face, and seeing you happy was the only thing he wanted.

and of course, you didn't mind the additional benefits that came with taking your medication.

the two of you fucked like rabbits. logan absolutely took advantage of the fact that you were on birth control; and though he didn’t admit it, it was clear he had some sort of breeding kink.

and it became apparent when you played a “prank” on him—a lighthearted joke that you made that he took the wrong way

“such a shitty day,” you groan, rubbing your eyes haphazardly. you unbutton your unbearably tight top, slouching into the worn down couch of your tiny apartment.

“what’s wrong, bub?” logan chirps, joining alongside you, his hands working at your thighs. “let me help you, doll.”

you sigh and lean your head further back into the cushions, feeling dizzy even at the slightest movement. “feels like i’m gonna start my period soon…”

his head tilts to the side, his hand now gripping at your legs instead of massaging them. “thought you’re still on it though,” he trails off, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“shit, i forgot to tell you when my period was over,” you answer with genuine concern. “my periods are still irregular, thought you’d already know.”

‘fuck’ logan thought to himself, his hands moving upwards to play with the hem of your pencil skirt. you’re still in your office attire—tights, kitten heels, a lacy tank top hidden underneath your button up, the whole ordeal.

“should’ve told me sooner, sweetheart,” logan growls into your ear, hands roaming your body

and before you know it, you’re bent over the kitchen counter, stripped down to nothing but your skirt, ass up and on display for his viewing pleasure.

with the pop of his claws, he ruins your cute little skirt, ripping it off of your ass with ease, the ripped fabric discarded to the side.

he makes sure to not mess up your panties though, his rough hands pulling the soaked fabric down your legs. he pockets them, shoving them into one of the pockets of his leather jacket.

“naughty girl,” logan chuckles to himself, watching at how your hole twitched around nothing, cunt absolutely soaked with your own arousal. “don’t even ‘hafta get you ready…”

he slips his cock out from his jeans, the flushed head of his tip already leaking; he's been waiting for this, a week too long.

he pumps himself a couple times, smearing the precum over his tip with his thumb. before lining himself up against you, he makes sure to tease you—after all, you did make him wait.

logan harshly slaps his dick against your cunt, making you whimper out his name. "bet you're fuckin' mad at yourself, huh doll?" his voice low, "being so forgetful..."

the shame was too much, all you can do is whine in response. "starved not only me, but yourself of your old man's dick," he lets out a tsk, and without warning, sheathes himself in you.

"shit! logan, im sorry" you cry, feeling yourself clench around him, missing the way he stretched out your cunt.

“gonna stuff you with my cum, darlin’. and you’re taking fuckin’ all. of. it.” he grunted out, emphasizing the last of his words with the deep thrust of his hips.

you could only respond with a feverish whine, “need you so bad, logan”, your fingernails clawing at his back to ground yourself as he pounds into you relentlessly.

“how fuckin’ dare you whine for my cock-,” he hisses out, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear, “you kept this tight little pussy away from me,” he spat out, his voice sounding bitter.

“can’t believe you made me wait for this, darlin’” he spat out with disdain, his thrusts getting sloppier. “you’re gonna have to beg for it.”

your bottom lip is swollen from your constant nibbling—which was considered a bad habit to logan, the tic stifling your moans which he gravely desired to hear.

his hand clenches at your jaw, parting your lips, your cheeks squished together. a small whimper escapes your lips at the action. he inches his face closer to you and his hazel eyes bore into yours.

“gonna stuff you so much, you’re not gonna ‘hafta worry about your period anymore, sweetheart,” he snarls out, his grip getting tighter.

your mind goes fuzzy, and the only thing you could think about is him finishing inside you, painting your velvety walls white.

you were whining at the top of your lungs, babbling incoherently. mouth agape, logan’s hand wrapped tightly around your neck, you can barely manage to let out any words. ‘s-sorry, i know i’ve been bad,’ m’sorry daddy… shouldn’t have lied…’

logan smirks at your moans, recognizing how much of a mess you are. content with your pleading, he releases the grip on your neck, his fingertips now tracing down your torso, making their way down to your hips.

“gonna breed this tight pussy,” he grunts, his rough hands gripping at your love handles, using them as leverage to pound into you deeper.

“she’s gonna keep all my cum in there, right doll?” he asks tantalizingly, his eyes locked onto your cunt, admiring the way your hole twitches perfectly around his dick, gripping him like a vice.

you can only moan in response, breath hitching with every deep thrust of his cock. it’s too much for you to handle, the pain you’re experiencing slowly turning into pleasure.

logan reluctantly slips out of you; manhandling you, he hastily flips you around. he spits directly onto your clit, and it’s a sinful sight—a thin strand saliva connecting from his bottom lip to your clit, and your pupils dilate at the view.

his fingers adeptly working at the swollen bundle of nerves, continuing his rhythmic thrusts—it’s all too much for you.

“feels s’good,” you cry out, your body a twitching mess beneath him. your fingernails dig at his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped marks against his skin, and soon after, you’re chasing your own release.

your hips move against your own will, attempting to match his pace—but it’s no use. he brutally pistons his hips into yours, intoxicated by your cunt, greedily sucking him in, and how unwilling she was to let his cock go.

“be a good girl n’ take it, baby,” he hisses between gritted teeth, pumping himself a couple more times before he finishes. he lets out a primal growl as thick ropes of cum fill your insides, your gummy walls milking him dry.

he keeps himself sheathed inside of you, ensuring that you were stuffed full of his cum. “need to make sure she takes…” logan murmurs, his thumb lazily rubbing at your clit.

even as his cock resides deep in your cunt. the mixture of your arousal and his manages to slip out. “such a pretty little cunt,” he says in awe, “fuckin’ perfect.”

the schlick of him pulling his cock out filled the room, making you whine in need, already missing how well logan filled you.

before you knew it, he swept you up off your feet, moving you from the kitchen back to the living room couch, placing you down gently knowing how sore you must’ve been—from your period cramps and the onslaught he had on your cunt.

you’re still naked, body out on display for his viewing pleasure. logan hungrily watches as your cunt continues to ooze out with his cum, a smirk forming across his face showing that he’s content with the “work” he’s done.

“took my dick like a champ, kid,” he chuckles out, pressing a kiss to the temple of your head.

“next time, tell me when your period’s over, doll.” he adds, punctuating his words with a playful slap to your ass.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can you do a Clark Kent, with a mate? Maybe she gets jealous of Lois but doesn’t know why; an to get over him she tries to go out with another guy but Clark is like no. Your mine.

.⋆｡Office Crushes｡⋆.

Alpha!Clark Kent x omega!plus size reader

Little bit of Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

Your best friend has an office crush that seems to be becoming something more, maybe you should get your own office romance but not because you’re jealous- obviously

Warnings: a/b/o, jealousy, mutual pining, idiots in love, little bit of angst, protective!clark, fluff

WC: 3.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was quite common for any office to have its workers develop a sort of infatuation with each other. A confined space where you spend upwards of 40 hours a week with the same people, feelings are destined to arise, especially when it’s such a large mixture of alphas, betas and omegas. Hormones tend to go wild.

You were proud that you had never developed an office crush, knowing how disastrous it could be if the relationship ended, but you doubted your best friend could say the same. Clark had a big heart that he always wore on his sleeve and tended to attract a lot of romantic interest from practically everyone in the office. And apparently, Lois Lane was the lucky one who finally caught his eye.

A strange churning in your stomach began as you looked over the wall of your cubicle and spotted Clark leaning on the small kitchen counter, head thrown back in laughter as Lois chuckled over her now full cup of coffee. You know you should have seen it from a mile away- they were constantly paired up for articles, their chemistry was unmatched and they were by far the most attractive people in the office. You had even teased Clark on occasion for how often he met up with her after hours for some new lead, calling them dates.

Evidently, you were right. And for some reason, it was really bothering you. You felt physical disgust as Clark bent down to whisper something into the smaller omega’s ear and down right nausea as she placed a hand onto his broad chest to steady herself.

You swallowed down the bitter emotions and forced yourself to return to editing your article though a sour taste remained on your tongue. Maybe it was finally time to get your own office crush and the perfect opportunity had just landed in your inbox.

‘Bruce Wayne Interview- I trust you’ll get this done professionally’. You bit your lip at the offer, not only would an interview with Gotham’s golden boy boost your career, but whenever you had encountered the alpha before, he had always asked you out and you had always brushed him off. It was a win-win for you, and maybe it would stop the inexplicable rage you felt when you looked up and saw the goofy grin on Clark’s face as he sat back down at his desk.

Your nose wrinkled as you caught Lois’s scent clinging to him. Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you quickly sent a response back to your boss, accepting the offer. 

You just needed a distraction and then everything would go back to normal.

——————

The tension in the conference room at the top of Wayne Enterprise was so thick you swore you could cut it with a butter knife. You cleared your throat and tugged down your pencil skirt, over-aware of just how high it sat on your plump thighs as you reclined in one of the many expensive seats in the room. 

Bruce’s eyes flicked down to where your hands were curled into the material of the skirt and then back to your eyes but not before stopping very briefly at your lips. “Mr Wayne-“ You began again, glancing at your notepad. The small talk had gone well as did the customary chit chat about any new scandal he happened to have instigated and the photos of the both of you for the article.

“Bruce please, I think we’re far beyond that now.” He winked and you swore that his tone held a bit of a teasing purr. Your stomach flipped at the blatant attention from the alpha but it quickly dropped as yet another wave of thick, bitter scent filled the room making you cringe away from the other man standing to the side.

Through a series of several unfortunate events, your usual photographer had fallen ill and his stand-in got hired from right under the company and left so the only person that even had the slightest bit of talent with a camera in the office was forced to come with you today for shots of the billionaire. And in the worst stroke of luck, that person happened to be the very man that ‘inspired’ you to take the job in the first place.

Clark shifted on his feet and you barely repressed an eye roll. He had been very vocal in his disapproval of the whole thing given how often the mogul had put the moves on you but none of his arguments had done anything to deter you, instead they only fuelled the fire.

Bruce’s jaw clenched and you watched in fascination as the muscles beneath his skin moved, although they were not nearly as impressive as Clark’s (you would never admit that out loud). “Well Bruce,” He beamed at you, “Wayne Enterprises has just introduced a new product line that promises to ease the severe heats often experienced by omegas, my question for you is, what about this product is so different from all others on the market that promise the same things yet all others have failed?”

The alpha leaned back in his seat, his muscular thighs spreading slightly, instantly drawing your gaze to the thick bulge that was perfectly hugged by the material of his pants. Your eyes immediately flicked back up to him but given the smirk on his lips, Bruce knew exactly what he was doing. 

“I’m actually quite proud of my team for this, they’ve worked tirelessly on development for years and I believe that it really shows. While other products are usually prescribed by doctors in the forms of ointments and perfumes that mimic the scent of an alpha, which almost never work by the way, we have gone in a totally new direction. Instead, omegas can buy these pouches at any pharmacy and when heated, they give off the scent of a pup.” Bruce gestured to the small bags that were barely the size of your palm that sat on the table next to him. They gave the appearance of a miniature version of a microwavable heat pack but he was right, if you concentrated hard enough, you could smell the mixture of milk and flowers that all babies had.

“It is common knowledge that the presence of pups actually help to lessen the effects of a heat whereas the scent of an alpha is far more complex to manufacture and can actually make an omega’s heat worse if they don’t have any other-“ he paused then, his smirk growing as the room seemed to grow smaller, “-tools to help them through it.” You barely suppressed a squeak and quickly ducked your head as if you were checking your notes once more.

You gathered yourself for a moment then spoke again, missing the way that Clark was glaring at the other alpha over your shoulder. “And how affordable are these products?”

“Wayne Enterprises are donating 2 million to women’s shelters throughout Gotham and we plan to sell them for less than $10.” As if anticipating your next question, Bruce licked his lips and continued. “While it is not feasible to gain a profit from such a low price, I would rather give them away to the people that need it but I do have a board that I have to listen to… sometimes.” He winked at you.

Heat crawled up your neck and settled onto your full cheeks. You squeezed your thighs together though you weren’t quite sure if it was because you were attempting to feign arousal or keep him from looking up your skirt. You laid a hand onto your notebook, shutting off your recorder, as you leaned forwards and offered him your other one. “Thank you for being so open to this interview, you have been a hard man to pin down.”

You could feel the way Clark’s body seized as Bruce’s smirk grew and his eyes twinkled deviously. “If it’s by you miss Y/L/N, I would gladly be pinned down any time.” He shook your hand with a firm grip, letting the tips of his fingers brush against your wrist. “For an interview that is.”

He rose to his feet and politely helped you to yours, steadying you with a hand on your waist as you wobbled on your heels. Once he was sure that you were steady, he ducked down and grabbed one of the unopened boxes of Heat Helpers (quite the cheesy name in your opinion) and gave it to you, along with a small piece of cardstock. “Why don’t you take this, a thank you for a great conversation.”

You flipped over the piece of paper to reveal a phone number scrawled on in pen. You gave him a questioning look to which he chuckled. “My number, if you ever want to have a one-on-one with me, with or without the tape recorder.” 

You swallowed thickly and stuttered out some kind of polite response before Clark ushered you out of the room, muttering under his breath about being in a time crunch. You were barely able to catch one last, “Anytime miss Y/L/N” before the heavy door slammed shut and you were quite literally pushed into the awaiting elevator by your friend.

As soon as the doors were shut, you were on him. “What was that all about?” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a scrutinising look. Clark refused to make eye contact with you, instead he stared at the elevator doors like he was willing them to open.

“He was flirting with you.” You rolled your eyes and looked away from the tall alpha. “And you let him.”

“So what? He’s attractive and available, as am I. It was only natural.” Clark’s shoulders tensed, his grip on his camera tightening until his knuckles turned white. The confined space was now filled with a bitter scent that made your stomach drop and your omega howl in displeasure.

“Why are you so concerned about this, Clark?”

The elevator doors opened with a ping and he quickly walked out. “It’s nothing.” He said and you knew you weren’t going to get anything else out of him until he decided he was done throwing a tantrum.

——————

“So have you called him?” Lois was leaning against the bar next to you, her drink half empty but the flush on her cheeks told you that it wasn’t the first one of the night. 

“Called who?” She rolled her eyes like it was obvious.

“Bruce Wayne! He obviously wants you too, I saw the photos Clark took. He’s fucking—what’s the word— enamoured!” You scoff behind your tumbler of whiskey which you had been nursing since Perry gave it to you an hour ago. The whole office had gathered at the bar down the road for an end-of-workweek drink and against your better judgement, you had decided to join.

Clark had been convinced into joining a game of pool, leaving you without anyone to talk to but it’s not like he would anyway. For some stupid reason, the alpha had been giving you the silent treatment for days and it was really starting to piss you off. You regarded Lois with a look but she was far too tipsy to get it.

“He was just flirting, he does it with everybody.” You dismissed it but she scoffed.

“Then why did he ask Perry for your personal number?” Your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “Clark didn’t tell you?” Evidently, your wide open mouth and lack of a verbal response told her everything she needed to know. Suddenly, Lois was very sober, a serious expression on her face.

“We were in a meeting with Perry the day after the interview and Wayne just strolled in like he fucking owned the place. He said how great you were and that he was hoping to get your number for a follow-up interview sometime soon. Clark said he would handle it, I assumed that he would have talked to you.” Her gaze travelled over to said man. “Shit I guess he didn’t.”

You slammed back the rest of your drink and without any sort of conscious thought, stormed over to the group of men huddled around the pool table. “Where the fuck do you get off Kent?” You snarled. Immediately all of the men seemed to find their phones incredibly interesting.

“I’m sorry?” He asked in that way too polite way he did that really meant ‘what the fuck is the matter with you’ but you were having none of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me Bruce asked for my number?” 

“There’s a lot of Bruces in the world, you’ll have to be more specific.” He dismissed.

Anger flared in your gut. “You know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.” You snarled, making Clark stand up straight and meet your eyes. In the dim light of the bar, his expression was far darker than you had ever seen before as aggravation rolled off of his powerful body in waves. “You had no right to keep something like that from me!”

“I had every right! He was just going to use you and then never talk to you again! I was protecting you!” 

“I didn’t ask you to!” The bar went completely silent as Clark visibly flinched but you were far too upset to care. “You know what, I’m done.” You raised your hands in surrender as you turned and pushed through the stunned crowd, your anger slowly trickling away into sadness.

The night air was like a punch in the gut but it also eased the tenseness in your shoulders. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself not to cry. It wasn’t like you were in love with Bruce, but even if you were, Clark’s blatant disapproval of him and his distrust in your decisions made you feel incredibly small. And it was breaking your heart.

He was your best friend, he was supposed to be supportive if not a little teasing about your choice in men. He was supposed to console you when things went wrong, not say ‘I told you so’. Why did he get to control your love life while you could only sit back and watch him fall in love with someone else?

Your feet carried you further and further from the bar as the urge to sob was quickly becoming overwhelming. “Y/N!” You turned in time to see Clark throw open the door, the light from inside spilling out onto the street as he endeavoured to chase you.

“Leave me alone!” You cried or at least tried to, but then suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs and you were looking up at the stars.

The shrill screech of a speeding car came from somewhere on your left as bright headlights illuminated the mass of a man above you before the sound was in the distance and darkness folded over you both. His weight kept you pinned to the slightly damp grass and you had the vague thought that you must be in a park of some kind, even though just a second ago you were standing on a sidewalk- or was it the street?

“Are you okay?” That was Clark’s voice but he had been so far away from you. “Omega?” He sounded distressed and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why.

“Say something!” His huge hands were planted by your head and it was only when one of them cupped your cheek did you find your voice again.

“Clark?” His whole body sagged with relief and he let his forehead rest against yours.

“Thank god. I thought I didn’t get to you in time. The car came out of nowhere and you were so close.” You turned your head away from him, your eyes focusing on the bar… that was across the street… a block away. The glint of something in the grass catches your attention, Clark’s glasses. 

He looked so different without them and all your confused mind could think was just how blue his eyes were when they were unobscured by the glass. 

His button up shirt which was normally so perfectly done up was unbuttoned, exposing the tight material of something navy beneath. “What?” But you couldn’t get out anymore, not when he shifted his weight, exposing even more of what was covered by his shirt and you were stunned into silence.

The red ’S’ practically glowed as realisation dawned into you. His brows scrunched in confusion, following your gaze. “I- I can explain.” Your head spun as he yanked you to your feet, though his hands never left your skin like he needed the reassurance that you were still there.

“I was going to tell you but then I realised how much danger it would put you in and if you were hurt in any way because of me, I couldn’t even stand the thought. And then we had known each other for months and Lois said you would feel betrayed so I kept it a secret-“ You placed an open palm onto his chest, stopping him in his tracks. His mouth snapped shut with a click.

“Is this why you were acting so weird about Bruce? You thought he would hurt me because of you?” Your voice wobbled with emotions as your nails dug into his warm peck. 

Clark’s growl was shocking in its intensity. The vibrations shot up your arm as the ground shook beneath your feet with its power. “No, he would never even dare to fucking touch you. He knows who you belong to.” Your heart skipped a beat, this possessiveness was nothing you had ever seen from the soft-spoken reporter before. You knew that you should find it disgusting considering how he had been treating you but instead your veins filled with warmth.

“And who is it that I belong to? There’s no claiming mark on my neck.” His grip on your hips tightened which should have been a warning but the anger was quickly returning now that the foggy haze of danger had passed. “If I can remember correctly, you’ve been courting Lois, not me.”

“I’ve been asking her for advice on how to ask you out!” He said, exasperated. “I just couldn't find the perfect time to do it.”

“You’re an idiot.” You retorted before grabbing his black curls in a tight grip and yanking his mouth to yours. His body tensed but then quickly melted into you, groaning against your lips. 

Maybe you did have an office crush but it’s not like you’d actually admit it.

DC Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv

DC

@snedhdh @kobaltdragon @Blackhawkfanatic @8bookishworm8 @honkytonkbabe @qardasngan

[ggidolsmuts]

Career Killer, Decision Maker - Yeonwoo

"So, this is it huh?"

"Yes."

"I wish you all the best."

"Thank you, Miss. Lee, it was a pleasure working with you." You hold out a friendly hand.

"Of course, likewise." She takes it.

How did you even get to this point?

After Yeonwoo's confidence boost you were the perfect right-hand man to her, and Yeonwoo kept you close for your good work, and together both of you rose in the ranks—she took care of you, and you backed her up.

Of course, she kept you close for other reasons, and she certainly took care of you as well...

"I didn't know that coming home with you was part of my performance review."

"Shh, not so loud, the neighbors might hear!" Yeonwoo pushes you through her door and shuts it behind her. "It's part of mine." Your pants seem to unbuckle themselves as you take in Yeonwoo's sweet tongue, and soon Yeonwoo is the one doing the taking, wrapping her tongue around your shaft.

"Oh fuck that's so good!" She has you leaning against the door, thrusting your hips out and pushing her head towards it. You pray the neighbors don't hear your piteous whine when Yeonwoo grazes her teeth ever so lightly across your shaft—Yeonwoo is your boss in the office, and occasionally work bleeds into personal life, your knees buckling against her kneeling form. She grabs you by the balls, and you head thumps quite loudly against the door as you cum, dumping a load straight down her throat. When you come to you are the one on the floor, with Yeonwoo standing over you.

"So, as part of our 360 degree review, how was my performance?"

"Exceeds expectations." You shakily stand up and kiss her passionately, sweeping her up in your arms. 

"Can you stay the night?" Yeonwoo pleads with round eyes, her fingers tightly gripping your shirt.

"Only if you don't wrinkle my shirt, I'll still need it for tomorrow." She wraps her arms around your neck instead, keeping your shirt unwrinkled, all so that you can wrinkle her sheets with her tonight.

You wake up the next morning with Yeonwoo all dressed up and kissing your cheek—she's already heading out.

"Don't be late."

You arrive slightly late to work, and wearing the same clothes as yesterday, but thankfully no one notices beyond a few knowing grins and nudges from a co-worker or two.

That probably wasn't how things got to this point though. 

At least, mostly likely not.

You're hard at your desk, listening to Yeonwoo breathe heavily through your ear buds. She had lost a bet with you the night before, and knowing that she had only a few meetings today, you made her slip a vibrator in her during the day.

"Nngh... Fuck I'm so wet," she whimpers into the phone. "Can I take it out?"

"No, keep it in, you sound so hot." You up the intensity, and you hear Yeonwoo gasp before whining even harder. She squirms in her chair, praying that she isn't soaking through her pencil skirt. You resist the urge to touch yourself, and it is a good thing you didn't as you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Hey man, still here?" You quickly sit upright and move yourself closer to your desk, making sure your co-worker doesn't see your hard on. "I was calling for you earlier."

"Huh? Yeah sorry, on the phone with customer support, they've kept me waiting with the stupid music, didn't hear you."

"Oh ugh yeah it's always bad. Anyways we were going to order some dinner in the office, you want any?"

"I'm good, thanks, gonna head out soon."

"Alright. Oh what's this?" To your horror they grab the remote controlling Yeonwoo's vibrator, and hurriedly you snatch it from them—you need to come up with something!

"O-Oh, just a toy, fidget spinner thing, I just click it whenever I'm bored."

Yeonwoo hears your conversation through her own earbuds, and to her sheer pleasure and terror she feels the vibrator inside her pulse erratically. It's one thing to constantly try to resist the urge to just cum in her office, but it's a whole different thing to have the pleasure come in waves. Yeonwoo leaks like a broken dam as they crash against her mental barrier.

"S-Stop, turn it off, turn it off!" She whispers harshly, her mind going white. She takes deep breaths, just trying to not scream as her orgasm creeps up on her inexorably.

"Fu— Mmmmm fuck!" So close, but then— "No! Damn it!" Thankfully she feels the vibrator stop, but unfortunately the pleasure is ripped from her far too quickly—her orgasm was ruined! It takes a while before she can get off her chair, but when she does she is seething.

You and your co-worker are surprised by a livid Yeonwoo storming towards you.

"Miss Lee, I didn't know you were still in! We're ordering dinner, would you—"

"No, thank you. And you, you missed a deliverable and the customer is pissed. We need to fix it, right now. Follow me." Your co-worker is scared into silence as you follow Yeonwoo into the elevator. She walks you out the building and into the carpark. "Get in." You make to get in the passenger seat, but she yanks you back by the collar. "In the back!" As soon as you get in Yeonwoo's on top of you, slamming the door shut with a hook of her heels.

"You fucking ruined my orgasm!" Off pops one, then a second button as Yeonwoo tugs on your collar, pulling your shirt open. You hiss in pain as she leaves a mark on your neck, sucking harshly on your skin. Her hands trail lower, on to your pants.

"Yeonwoo! We can't do it here!"

"I'm not." She pulls your cock out, and in short order she's threatening to suck your soul out, giving you the blowjob of your life.

"Fuck Yeonwoo, fuck... Oh fuck!" You groan and moan, but as you try to thrust and push deep into her mouth she gets off, leaving you to hurriedly pull your pants back up as she opens the door to the night air.

"Now get out and drive us to your place."

"What the fuck Yeonwoo!"

"Now you kinda know how it feels, be glad I didn't ruin your orgasm." It was definitely not the safest thing to do, to drive while horny, and certainly not safe to drive fast while horny, with Yeonwoo next to you rubbing your thigh, teasingly moving up and in. Luckily you make it back to your place in one piece, and as the door slams shut behind you Yeonwoo is ripping your shirt open, hungrily pushing you to the bedroom. The contrast with how she takes off your clothes versus how she takes off her own clothes is almost comical, but with barely measured composure she leaves them neatly on the floor before jumping you. There is a loud ripping sound as you tear off her underwear, trying to gain access to her.

"Yah!" There is a loud stinging pain on your chest as the two of you freeze, the frenzied mood put on pause. Yeonwoo merely bites her lower lip, saying sorry, protecting her underwear, and teasing you, all at once as she silently removes her bra. As you latch your lip on an already stiff nipple Yeonwoo gasps, hugging your head to her chest and pushing her hips against yours needily. The frenzied mood quickly returns when she grabs you underneath your boxers, and it is a signal to kick them off and get naked.

Your lips moan against hers when Yeonwoo sinks her hips on you, and you have to squeeze her ass to hold her still.

"Ugh, I'm close already."

"What?"

"You're the one who teased me earlier."

"Don't you dare cum before me!" Yeonwoo pushes you on your back, and with one hand on your chest she holds you down while she starts rubbing her clit with the other.

"This isn't any better!" you gasp, watching Yeonwoo try and get herself off. She shuts you up by kissing you, letting her own whimpers leak into your mouth. As she gets close to her peak her hips start going up and down, humping you and bringing you close too.

"Yeonwoo—"

"Cum with me, just cum with me..." She grabs your hand, bringing it to her ass that you love so much. You squeeze her reflexively, and Yeonwoo mewls. The two of you cum together, her walls seeming to vibrate around you as your cock throbs against her. Yeonwoo purrs when she gets off you, murmuring happily at the thick load dripping out of her.

"Now that was much better than a ruined orgasm."

"I hope that made it up to you," you whisper, kissing her parted lips.

"Almost, let me use your shower and we're even."

"Go ahead." Yeonwoo sighs in relief as the hot water runs over her lithe body—it was a quick but good session, and she was dreading the long trip home. As she steps out, she is pleasantly surprised by you wrapping a towel around her, hugging her tightly.

"What's gotten into you?" But in reality, she already knew what you wanted.

"You should stay the night."

"I really shouldn't— Mmm..." Yeonwoo really shouldn't stay the night, she'd have to get up early to change, or not change at all. And what if someone notices the two of you coming in together? Your lips are a very persuasive argument against Yeonwoo's concerns though, finding the spot on her neck that would make her knees go weak. She braces herself against the sink unknowingly, allowing the towel to fall off her.

"It's not a good idea," she protests weakly even as she goes on her tiptoes, trying and failing to not feel you hilted deep inside her already.

"It'll be fine," you assure her. Yeonwoo opens her mouth to argue more, but she is silenced by the sensation of something hard pushing against her puckered ring! "Good thing you didn't leave this in the office."

"You— Ah!" Yeonwoo can't help but moan before continuing. "You went digging in my purse?"

"It spilled out earlier. But enough about that, you should just stay the night." A surge of pleasure rockets through Yeonwoo as she feels the vibrator switch on in her ass, and she can only yell when you start thrusting.

"Yes yes yes!"

Little did either of you know that it would be the beginning of the end, for a few people noted Yeonwoo coming in with the same clothes as yesterday, and more than a few people saw how she walked a little different, a side effect from you opening both her holes up the night before. Presumably no one would be able to see how she had no underwear on the whole day, but regardless, lurid rumors began to swirl, the workplace speculating on how she was in a particularly good mood that day.

It then turned toxic, with people wondering if she slept her way to the top, and you had to make sure to never ask Yeonwoo to stay the night again. It got worse when people noted how you had rose in the company with Yeonwoo, that maybe she pulled you up with her, keeping her boytoy nearby. You forced yourself to keep a distance from her, to protect her, to protect yourself, to protect both of you.

"Why are you avoiding me?" she asks you flat out after a meeting, where you unfortunately allowed yourself to be the last one in the room with her.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You don't drop by my office, you decline our 1-on-1s, you want to handle everything by email, and don't pretend I don't notice that you're always the first one out of meetings now. What's going on?"

"People are talking, it's bullshit but the rumors are bad. I'm doing this to protect you."

"You can protect me by telling me what's going on."

"You really don't know?"

"No."

"They say you're sleeping your way to the top, and that we're involved, and that I'm benefiting." Yeonwoo's reaction is muted, but you can see her hands grabbing the folder tightly, threatening to crumple it entirely.

"That's it? That's all? I don't care about that."

"But I do, I hear it, even if you don't."

"You want to get rid of them? I'll promote you, and you can fire them."

"That would be proving them right."

"What do you want me to do then?" Yeonwoo asks, exasperated. You mean I can't do anything for you?

"I think we should stop, you know, our thing."

"You want to break up?" she is quiet, deathly so. Her face turns pale when you answer back.

"I... Didn't think we were in something to break up for? W-Were we?" you ask, suddenly unsure of how Yeonwoo felt. Everything was casual, the sex was great, but you had never asked her out on date, and you never got the inkling she wanted to make things serious and official, but the way she spoke about breaking up...

"No. You're right, we're done then," her whisper cuts through the thick air, and she leaves with a slam of the door.

You continued avoiding her, and thankfully Yeonwoo stopped approaching you individually. That said, you realize painfully that absence does make the heart grow fonder, and you started missing Yeonwoo. Running into her randomly in the offices did not help, and soon you are the one pining for her, rather than the other way around. You also know that there's no way you can get back with her, and working with her isn't helping you forget about her either, so you come to the logical conclusion.

"So, this is it huh?" Yeonwoo asks, calling you in once she saw your resignation email.

"Yes."

"I wish you all the best."

"Thank you, Miss Lee, it was a pleasure working with you." You hold out a friendly hand.

"Of course, likewise." She takes it, and doesn't let go.

"I'll miss you, um, you were a good worker." The last few words tumble out of her rushed, blurting out the truth and then a lie.

"Yes, I'll miss working with you." You manage to couch your feelings better. Your thumb traces the back of her hand, and Yeonwoo twitches, quickly pulling her hand back.

"T-That's all then, good bye."

Much to Yeonwoo's chagrin (probably, you had no way of knowing), you join your competitor, diving into the same work you were doing before except without having to, or in some ways, getting to, see Yeonwoo. All was fine, and she faded from memory eventually—or at least, you weren't thinking of her as much.

You wonder if it was the same for Yeonwoo...

"Should I stay the night?" he asks her, a hand teasingly cupping her breast, no doubt wanting her to say yes.

"No, sorry, I have to be get in early tomorrow."

"What about me? I would love to 'get in' early tomorrow too," the whisper is soft and husky, yet almost repulsive to Yeonwoo.

"No, you should leave." She wraps the blanket around herself and stands up.

"What the fuck Yeonwoo?" This wasn't the first time this has happened, and her amour is pissed. "You never come over to my place, and you never let me spend the night here!"

"We're keeping things casual."

"Even so, it wouldn't hurt for us to spend the night together would it? God I bet you'd be a lot happier in the morning if you get a nice quickie in before going to the office."

"What the fuck did you say?" Now he touched a nerve. "Get the fuck out, right now."

"What? All I'm saying is having some morning wood with your coffee wouldn't be—"

"Leave, right now, before I throw you out naked." He gets the hint quickly, tripping over himself as he dresses, and stumbling out the door, but not before throwing one last barb in.

"You're fucking crazy, you know that? Who would want to be with you?"

Yeonwoo drops to the bed as he slams the door shut, burying her face in her hands, frustrated even after the romp. It wasn't the first argument she had over this with him, nor was he the first person she's had multiple arguments with about it. She could not, and would not, allow someone else to stay over, not after what happened with you. She didn't want to risk her career or her heart anymore. Yeonwoo sighs and picks up the used condom, discarding it, much like everything else she has thrown away.

What did she have to show for it?

Well, she could attend swanky events, wearing a sleek black dress that screamed power and position. "That's something, I guess," Yeonwoo thinks to herself, even as she sips wine more expensive than her secretary's salary. She could relax a little, even in the terse, stuffy atmosphere of a VIP event. Even if it was an industry event, there's no way she would run into—

"Miss Lee, what a pleasure seeing you here!" Ugh, just from the voice she recognized it as an exec at one of her company's biggest competitors. Oh well, just smile and be polite.

"Oh come on now, you knew I'd be here—" She stops short, stunned at who she's looking at next to the exec.

"Of course. I wanted to introduce you to our newest director, I can't believe you let him go."

"Long time no see, Miss Lee," you bow politely to her.

"Oh, yes, small world. I see you're doing well at your new company."

"He has! I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the work he was doing! Anyways, enjoy the event! Come." Yeonwoo watches you walk away from her, and the glass in her hand trembles slightly.

The day done, you sit at the bar and relax, nursing your drink. Seeing Yeonwoo again was enough to throw you off a little, and seeing her in the audience of your presentation made you stumble over a few words, although it was still very well received.

"You're out of practice." You'd recognize that voice anywhere.

"They don't make me do as many of those."

"I'll let your boss know to do so. Still, good enough." Yeonwoo raises her own drink in salute.

"Thanks. It's okay for you to be here talking to me?"

"What, nothing wrong with just two former co-workers catching up and talking shop right?"

"Yeah but we're also competitors. What if someone at your company sees you talking to me, you remember what happened before right?" You watch Yeonwoo's eyebrows furrow briefly, before taking in the rest of her face—you had seen her with and without makeup before but damn, her makeup today looked perfect. You flinch slightly as her hand brushes yours.

"That's all in the past, don't worry about me." She's grabbed your drink, finishing it for you. "Besides, if you're so worried, how about we do it in my room?"

"Y-You mean talk right?"

"Of course, just talking business."

You should've known better, but you find yourself not talking business, but getting down to business with Yeonwoo as she pushes you on the bed. Automatically your hands go to her waist, admiring her curves over the slim black dress and letting her get on top of you.

"Fuck I've missed you so much," she murmurs into your neck, her hands diving daringly under your shirt. Yeonwoo's soft body presses into you, and you allow yourself to drift down her body, feeling her ass and squeezing—god that feels so good! She's smiling into your neck, using a hand to guide you to her chest, wanting you to feel her there too. She purrs as you kiss her lips, her jaw, her neck...

But that's not the only sound you hear, you hear a vibration. A phone, business. Work.

Shit.

"Yeonwoo, what are you doing? We can't be doing this! It's a huge conflict of interest."

"I don't know about conflict, but there's certainly an interest..." She palms your cock over your slacks, kissing you more fervently, trying to get you to comply.

"Do you know what you're doing? You're literally sleeping with the enemy!" You push her back by the shoulders. Yeonwoo sits her hips more firmly down on you, but you manage to roll her off. "We can't be doing this!"

"Is that all I am to you now? Enemy?!" She wraps her arms around you, hugging you from behind—fuck she feels so soft, and you're still hard. "Just stay the night, no one has to know, no one will know..." Her hands drift to your belt, trying to undo it, undo all that she's done to get here.

"Let me go Yeonwoo," you manage to utter, hoarsely. You grab her hands, stopping her. "Please." They retract. "You're not my enemy, I just don't want you to get hurt, to hurt your career."

"That's not your choice to make. Who are you to make choices for me? I just want you back!"

"Are you really going to give up your career for something like this?" Yeonwoo is silent, and you walk out on her. But you're still hard, fuck, how did things get to this?

Yeonwoo was right, who are you to make choices for her? The only choices you should be making are your own. What did you want?

Yeonwoo gazes out her window at the cloudy sky, the sun setting dimly behind it. She's working at home for once, but that also means she'll be working through the night for once too. She sighs and stretches in her chair—another long and boring day. There's a knock on the door, who could it be?

"It's you." She hadn't seen you since that time at the conference, nearly two months ago. Yeonwoo had blocked it out of her mind—it was shameless, cringy, desperate, everything that she didn't want to do, and yet she did it then, in a moment of weakness! And now here you are, standing in front of her, and all she can say is "It's you"? What else can I say? Why are you here?

"Yeah, can I come in?" you ask, cautiously.

"Ah, um yes." She blushes slightly as she leads you in, aware of the unintentional show she's suddenly putting on—Yeonwoo's wearing a blouse appropriate for video calls, but underneath that is the tiniest pair of shorts possible. This was not how she had planned meeting you again. "What's the matter?"

"I've been thinking about what you said last time."

"Oh, what I said last time?" What did I say last time? All Yeonwoo can remember is her throwing herself at you.

"Yeah, about me making the choice for you. Like who am I to make choices for you."

"Oh I—"

"Well you were right, I shouldn't have done that. I should be making choices for myself."

"That's good to hear." Yeonwoo says, not knowing where you're going with this.

"I quit my job."

"What? Why would you do that!" Her mind immediately goes places. "We're not hiring right now, it's not going to be easy to find the budget for you—"

"I don't want to come back."

"Do you have a job lined up already? I can find someone to refer—"

"No Yeonwoo, that's not the point!" Yeonwoo has her breath taken away as you wrap your arms tightly around her. "I left my job to be with you. It's not right for me to choose for you, so I'm choosing for myself."

She's still in your arms, so still that you had to ask. "Yeonwoo?"

"W-What do you mean?" She's grabbing your t-shirt from the back, fists of fabric trembling.

"I want to be with you, and I don't want to hurt your career, so I ended mine."

"But why?"

"I made the choice for us, so you don't have to." She pulls on your shirt even harder, and you had to speak up. "You're choking me like this."

"I can make my own choices right?"

"Yes, of course." Your heart drops for a moment—is she going to choose no, to reject you? Her fingers go to your hair, pulling it, this is going to hurt—

She smashes her lips against yours, wiping away all doubt. She grips you oh so tightly, lips pressed almost too harshly against yours, as if to never let you go—that's her choice.

"That night, at the conference, in the hotel..." Yeonwoo's murmuring into your neck again, hands diving under your shirt once more—it all comes back vividly to you.

"I want you to choose again."

You find yourself on a bed, except this time instead of Yeonwoo's hotel room, you're in her bedroom. She's pressed on top of you similarly, but this time your hands slip easily under her tiny shorts, allowing you to squeeze her ass directly, and it feels even better. She sits up on you, smirking teasingly as she unbuttons her blouse—she has you exactly where she wants you, and you're not pushing her off this time. As the blouse falls off her shoulders you hug her close, hand moving to her back.

"Let me."

Yeonwoo hums as she lets you remove her bra. Her hands run through your hair and move down your shoulders, feeling your arms; her memories of that night run through her head, and she begins sharing them without reserve.

"Fuck... Do you remember that night?" 

"I regret leaving," you mumble, squeezing her ass while you bury yourself in her bare chest.

"I'll make you regret it even more, do you know what I did after I finished crying?" She doesn't wait to hear your apology, she wants to skip right to the good part. "Feeling you for the first time in so long, god I just had to get myself off." She's humping you not so subtly even now, and you can feel her through your tent and her tiny shorts.

"Yeonwoo!"

"I wondered if you would come back, maybe turn back at some point. I kept edging myself, rubbing my clit in circles, I wanted you to be the one who made me cum. Except you never did."

"Yeonwoo I—" You feel a strange mix of guilt and arousal, her words painting a picture of what happened in the hotel room after you left. She plunges on, her nails teasing your chest—when did she take your shirt off?

"I debated taking photos, show you just how much I wanted you, needed you." You imagined Yeonwoo on the bed, legs apart, fingers parting her pussy for you, or maybe plunged deep inside her. "That maybe you'd come back to me if I took a video for you." You can imagine, no, recall how Yeonwoo would look and sound when she came—you needed to see that right now!

"Mmm fuck Yeonwoo!" you murmur into her neck.

"Yes, I need you to fuck me, god I'm so wet already." You shimmy your pants and boxers off just enough, and in the time it took you to do that Yeonwoo kicks off her small shorts and soaked panties. Fully naked she simply grabs your stiffness and without another word sinks herself down on you. The sound she makes is utterly unholy, one of want, and one of thirst satisfied.

"Yeon— mmph!" She catches your words with her lips and rides your cock with her hips. There is no stopping the freight train of pleasure pumping right into Yeonwoo as she lets herself run wild with desire, gripping your shoulders tightly and bouncing herself on you with wanton abandon. She covers your cock with slick, and the lewd squelch of her humping joins the moans in the bedroom. All you can do is hold on and try not to cum.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming, cumming!" Yeonwoo squeals, suddenly going still and sighing as she clenches around you. All the strength seems to concentrate around her pussy as she slumps against you, even as you have to groan and shut your eyes, trying to withstand the strong tugs of her walls around your shaft, eager to have more of you in her. "Oh fuck, never leave me." She sighs into your neck.

"Never again." You roll the two of you over, and Yeonwoo glances sideways at the vacated part of the bed.

"Oh, that was how drenched the sheets were after that night too," she teases, trying to rile you up more. And you knew just how to get her back for it.

"Do you have a condom?"

"Hm? You can cum in me—" Yeonwoo goes pink—she didn't quite mean it like that, but she feels you throb, and Yeonwoo wraps her legs around you. "That is, unless you don't want to?"

It takes all of your self-control to not pound her into the bed, to have her moan your name as you give her what she wants—a thick creampie months in the making.

"Not yet, just get me the condoms." Yeonwoo directs you to a drawer in her nightstand, and you find and pull out an opened box of condoms. "Seeing someone? I'm not going to regret this am I?"

"No, that was a while ago." She caresses your cheek for emphasis. "I haven't seen anyone since, just never threw it out. I didn't let them do me raw, but you can, so we can just skip the condoms and—"

"I will, but." You sink deep into Yeonwoo, and her walls seem to clench around you in response to your words. "I want to fuck your ass."

"Oh!" she whines as you pull out and take a condom from the box. "It's been a while... Since our last time, actually."

"That long? I'll go slow then." Properly wrapped, you push into Yeonwoo's pussy first, getting some of her juice over the rubber.

"No, don't! Make it hurt, like our first time." Your mind goes back to the first time you had Yeonwoo's ass, slamming into her and pounding her until she looked back at you, tears running down her face... and slick running down her thighs. She throws her hands around your neck, bringing you in close as your tip nudges against her puckered hole. "Make it hurt, I want to feel you in my ass, but afterwards, afterwards—" Yeonwoo whines a little as you breach her, feeling something enter her ass for the first time in a while.

"Afterwards, don't hurt me again." You push into her harshly, and Yeonwoo yelps before her cry is muffled by your kiss, holding her face in your hands. Her eyes are watery when she opens them again, but they also sparkle, especially when you mumble into her ear.

"Never again." You push deeper into her, relishing in the unique tightness that is Yeonwoo's rear, adding rubs of her clit to help the pain subside, to give her some pleasure. You focus more on her pussy, happy to keep yourself buried in her ass, just letting her get used to the shape of you in there once more. You rub and pinch and press on her little button, and soon Yeonwoo's squirming underneath you, softly moaning, until finally she can't take it anymore—she grabs your hand, bringing it to her hips instead.

"Fuck me already!" You start pumping her with slow and firm thrusts, and you the see first sign of pleasure from the anal fucking—her lipbite, lethal as ever, a mix of pain and delicious pleasure on her face. "Oh god that's good, you fuck my ass so good... Nngh!" Yeonwoo starts rubbing herself, chasing that high she needed from you taking her ass. To her dismay you pull out just as she's close, but before she can complain you rip off the condom and plunge back into her pussy.

"Mmm!" The sudden and different pleasure catches her by surprise, and only a few hard thrusts are needed for her to throw her head back and cum. She's speechless, head in the clouds while her body bucks and writhes beneath you. Meanwhile you have the box of condoms in hand—Yeonwoo's not going to use them in the future, not if you had your say in it.

So might as well use them all now?

You roll a new condom on your cock, and Yeonwoo can only groan as you push into her.

"Oh fuck, you're in my ass again..."

You give her what she wants on the second go around, rubbing her clit and making her cum while you're stuffing her ass. Once she's done with her anal orgasm you rip the condom off again to fuck her pussy raw to another climax. Rinse and repeat. The process allows your pleasure to subside between rolling on and taking off the condom, letting you fuck Yeonwoo in both her holes longer. Your usually smart and sharp-tongued former boss is lost to bliss, her eyes vacant, tongue slipping out between her lips when you rattle her with a particularly hard thrust. She barely notices when you roll her on to all fours and get behind her, both holes winking and gaping at you, begging for more.

"Nngh!" Yeonwoo groans when you take her from behind, the new position allowing you to get deeper inside her. 

"Fuck, you take my cock up your ass so well!" you curse, sliding easily into her.

"Then don't stop, don't stop fucking me!" You answer her with a smack on her ass, watching her cheek jiggle as you do as she says. Yeonwoo drops her head to the pillow, her world spinning as she's quickly cumming again.

"It's so good!" *Rip* You open one more condom.

"Baby..." You toss another one away, letting Yeonwoo get one word in before you put her on back and fuck her pussy again, rendering her incoherently happy once more.

"Too... ahhh much!" You reach for the box, and Yeonwoo's hand is on yours, stopping you. She looks delicate, absolutely shattered, wrecked like the first time you ever fucked her—hair a mess, a bit of drool from her mouth, eyes watery in pleasure. You grab the box anyways, only to find it empty—you've done what you set out to do and used up all the rubbers in there! She grabs the box from your hand, crumpling it and tossing it aside—Yeonwoo had more urgent urges. "Cum for me, cum in me raw, I want to feel you in me now!"

Between her begging and the long session you realize you've delayed your own orgasm for far too long, and you're just about ready to burst. She hugs you close, hips grinding up in response to your throbbing length.

"Cum in me, fill me up." Yeonwoo whines when you start losing it, going even harder into her. "You're so deep in me! Fuck, fuck me deeper, harder! Oh my god, I'm going to cum with you, you're going to make me cum—" She actually goes off the cliff first, but you're right there behind her with a loud groan.

Yeonwoo shudders through her climax, and the first sensation coming off her peak is your throbbing thickness deep inside her, followed by the sound of your moans in her ear, and finally the thick cum splattering her walls. She may have been the one to orgasm multiple times tonight, but Yeonwoo feels you filling her with many orgasms' worth of ejaculate all at once. You rut into her, riding out your own peak, and Yeonwoo moans with you, your cum thoroughly overflowing inside her, oozing out of her pussy and staining her other hole below—the last time she had been fucked and creamed and gaped to this extent was well, with you. The thought makes her hump up into you, legs still around your hips, and you spurt just that little bit more, pushing the cum deeper into her.

"Oh fuck Yeonwoo..." She tilts your head towards her, kissing you passionately, face pink with satisfaction.

"I never want to go without this ever again."

"Did I not stretch you enough yesterday?" you joke at Yeonwoo holding a yoga pose.

"This is a different kind of stretch! But if you want, I'm sure I could stretch some other muscles too?" A wink and a lick of her lips is all she needs to get you to drop to your knees, and Yeonwoo soon has you in her mouth, letting you push as deep into her throat as you can, all while holding her pose. But both of you can only last so long before you're peeling the yoga pants off her, ruining her mat with her squirt and your cum.

Yeonwoo got no work done over that weekend as she made you stay over, and it seemed like every waking hour was making up for a night the two of you missed. Every wink, every lipbite, every wiggle of her hips was an invitation, and Yeonwoo's apartment quickly became a clothing-optional zone. She would wear nothing but a t-shirt, snuggling up with you and have your arms around her, but her naughty hand would inevitably drift between your legs, and the movie is quickly forgotten in favor of Yeonwoo riding your brains out.

"Ugh we need to eat," you mumble, your stomach growling.

"Yeah it's late, I have some leftovers in the fridge, let me go get it." At the sight of Yeonwoo's cheeks walking away from you you grow hungry for something else. You surprise Yeonwoo, hugging her from behind in the kitchen.

"I just ordered some food, don't bother with the leftovers."

"I have plenty for the two of us though!"

"I'd rather eat something else, and the food's coming in fifteen minutes." Yeonwoo braces herself on the kitchen counter as you press your face into her ass, letting your tongue slide between her lips. When you are done with her she's slumped over the counter, and you're wiping her juices from your face.

"Come on, time for dinner."

"In a— Ah! Minute..." Yeonwoo gasps, basking in her peak. She reminds herself to put the leftovers back in the fridge, but that can wait.

Just as soon as she can stand again.

The weekend finally ends with the two of you cuddling under the covers, a streak of white oozing onto her creamy thighs.

"Ah I can't believe it's Monday tomorrow."

"Do you have to go in? Maybe you could work from home and work hard. And then play hard, hmm?" You squeeze a breast, reminding her just what type of "play" the two of you could get up to.

"I'd love to, but I have meetings to be present for."

"Ugh, employment." You kiss her forehead before wriggling out from the sheets. "I'll see you soon then."

"You're leaving? You can stay! I-If you want to." She looked utterly angelic, buried within the sheets, and you wanted nothing more than to join her back beneath them, but you knew better, knew that there'd be devilish happenings if you let yourself stay.

"I do. But I would think that the mighty Miss Lee can't show up late tomorrow, walking all funny like and unable to even sit in her chair properly."

"I'll just say I had a fall!"

"You think that school of piranhas you manage would believe that?"

"But it's the truth! I've fallen for you..." Even Yeonwoo blushes at her own corny joke, and you have to hug her embarrassment away.

"Tch, I've fallen too then. All the way to the unemployment line."

"Yah don't say that, you'll find something for sure! But... Thank you for coming back to me."

"Thank you for taking me back. Don't worry about me from now on." You kiss her again.

"Just worry about us."

A/N: Finally back, just haven't felt like writing and was agonizing around finishing this story. I have other ideas in mind, so hopefully I can get around to those faster, but I just wanted to finish this one first as a sequel to Confidence Booster. Thanks for reading!

[lovingclaws]

thinking about professor!logan . . . <3 him always taking up detention duty whenever you got in trouble, giving you little glances in class and you being the only student he calls out for not paying attention. he'd snap his fingers at you whenever you zoned out, make you stay an extra fifteen minutes after class ends, giving you little nicknames. "good morning, mr. logan!" "good morning, guppie." he'd reply with a soft smile it's not like you weren't so obsessed with him either. you'd bite on your pencil and stare at him instead of focusing on the lecture. you'd get super shy around him, your face turning red at his praises. "atta girl!", "good girl", "good job, bub." one time, when you stayed with logan after class, you bent over to pick up a few folders. your skirt lifted and exposed your underwear, and logan started to cough as soon as he noticed. he would never admit it, but the rush he felt from the little he could see of your panties had him very nervous. you're his student, isn't it wrong of him to look at you that way? he found himself adjusting his pants when you got up. “uhh, you know what? i’m not feeling very talkative today. maybe you can go back and hang out with your friends,” he said, his forehead covered in beads of sweat. “you okay, mr. logan?” “i’m alright, bub. just not in the mood to talk.” “oh, uh, alright. have a good day!” you flashed a smile at him. “you too, bub.” as soon as you left the classroom, logan headed to the bathroom to take care of his problem. pleasuring himself while thinking of his student? seriously? he felt immense guilt for even looking at you. then again, he’d never tell you about those feelings; he thought you were too sweet and naive for him.

divider by v6que

[vixensp1ce]

them as japanese p rn tropes

fem!reader / pt. 2 (jing yuan and aventurine)

childe

he's the sleazy coworker, the one who ogles your boobs whenever you bend over and thinks pencil skirts are a gift to humanity (his dick).

of course, accepting his invitation to hang out and drink at his place is a sure sign that you're not as innocent as you look.

and when he has you on the carpet, legs folded up to your chest, looking so sweet and breedable just for him, he realises you're not wearing underwear. just stockings. and a gasket blows in his mind.

there's an adult movie playing on the tv, but he's muted it. he wants to hear your voice and your voice only, after all.

he fucks you slowly at first, relishing the way your boobs ripple with the movement in your tight office blouse. you might be wearing a smaller one today, because the buttons are straining and he can see a peek of your lacey bra underneath.

your walls squeeze and flutter around him, betraying your need, but childe ignores it for now.

"so pretty, so, so pretty, all for me..." he mutters, still rocking his hips, grinding gently into you. the buttons come open with ease, revealing a scrap of red lace, transparent so he can see your hardened nipples.

he pauses. you seem to know what's coming next and squeeze around his dick in anticipation.

"you little slut," he growls in delight, slamming into your g-spot with such accuracy that you cry his name.

he sets a frightening pace, his dick scraping against every inch of your ribbed walls you've never been able to reach on your own, and you wonder, did he just get bigger?

"gonna cum inside, fill you up, inside inside inside," he chants, lost in his pleasure and tugging down your bra. your boobs spring free, now rippling freely like a wave. he ducks his head, suckling on one nipple, a hand coming up to tease the other one.

"ajax! oh, please, please, i'm so close," you moan, the pressure in your lower tummy building.

"with me," he mumbles, switching to your other nipple. "cum with me, baby, together..."

your rapidly contracting walls betray how close you are, and his dick twitches and twitches inside of you. childe grabs your leg, slinging it over his shoulder so his dick reaches even deeper into you, and the new position is just what you need for the dam to break.

you scream his name. you clamp down on him, hard, your back arching taut, pushing your breast further into his mouth. he cums at the same time, ropes of thick, hot cum filling you up in a place you hadn't even known was empty.

he's still pistoning into you at a violent pace, fucking you both through your first orgasm of the night.

blade

funny guy has funny tastes. if you'd known that one of his favourite things to do was to have you tied up and restrained, you would have... well, nothing, seeing as you enjoyed it just as much as he.

you were under the dining table, draped over the support crossbars and trying to clear out a particularly stubborn cobweb. blade eyes you hungrily, feeling his cock just begin to strain at his pants. he can see the outline of your panties through your clothes, the lucious curve of your ass tempting him to do something only in his fantasies.

then you pull back and stop.

"um, blade? a little help?"

his patience snaps. striding up to you, he lands a glancing blow on your behind. you yelp, your back arching. "hey, what was that for?"

he doesn't care. blade gives himself a moment to fix the image of your ass in his mind, then pulls down your clothes and underwear in one smooth movement.

"you little bitch," he snarls. a string of your arousal stretches from your pussy to your underwear. "fucking slut."

he slides his dick back and forth in your inner lips, coating it in slick and the tip rubbing aginst your clit. you moan, your back arching, grinding against him to try and get more friction.

blade reaches under the table and tugs you free, hoisting you up into his arms and carrying you to the couch.

another slap. you whimper, trying to turn back to get a look at him, but he grabs your head and forces it down.

"a slut like you shouldn't even be looking at me," he growls.

he spreads your asscheeks with his thumbs. the movement has your pussy weeping a few drops of cum onto his slick, wet dick.

"slut," he mutters again, half to himself, and slams himself into you.

you gasp, back arching, the fabric of the couch crinkling under your grip. "bla~ade," you moan angelically.

"shut up," he commands, pulling you roughly into him again. your shut up obediently. the flesh of your ass ripples up your body, and he can just see your boobs swaying to his rhythm.

he leans over you to whisper into your ear. "does my naughty little slut wanna cum?" he whispers, his gravelly voice sending sparks into your lower tummy.

you can feel his dick, thick and rock-hard, weighing down inside of you, and you can almost imagine the outline of it showing through your tummy. you nod.

he pistons his hips into yours, humping like an animal in heat, aiming right for the most sensitive gummy spot within you. you whimper and moan, your back arching in pleasure, and then you feel his hand clasp your boob to stimulate your nipple roughly.

"no-!" you squirm against his hold, but blade has you completely pinned. his other hand snakes down to where the two of you are connected, flesh smacking together and ringing through the room.

"if you want to cum, then cum." you can hear the smile in his voice as his hand finds your sensitive little nub and rubs it fiercely.

the pressure in your lower tummy spikes, and you claw at the couch as you cum, looking for something to hold onto. "bladebladeblade, ah, harder, please~"

[clawsdevour]

how many floors left

wc: 1.7k content warning: public sex, smut, fingering, kissing, established relationship, not proofread, multi-fandom x reader

•°. *࿐

Entering your workplace which is a big tall glass building with about 70 floors, you come in your professional attire daily. Hair and makeup nicely done, wearing your pencil skirt, an ironed blouse and black stockings which matched with your shiny black heels. The jewelry you picked today complemented your eyes and matched the rest with your outfit. You worked under the CEO of the company, as his assistant. Little did the whole company know that you were secretly dating him.

Dating at work was strictly prohibited to ensure that the work environment is productive, and not filled with gossip and toxicity. You crossed over a few rules with this. One, you started dating one of the people you have to engage with on a daily basis at your workplace. And two, the person you were dating is the CEO, the person you work the most with. It was like he was bending the work rules for you. However, you both were able to put up a front where you’re both completely professional on work grounds. But not whenever you were in his office with him alone.

You scan your ID card to clock in before heading to the elevators. You noticed how unusually empty it was that day. Am I late, or am I just way too early for today’s scheduled meeting? You pondered to yourself for a moment. Usually to prepare for meetings you decide to come at least 20 minutes earlier than when the gathering is held. It’s normally bustling at that time, with some people here asking to clarify the documents and some people still finishing up their papers. About to press the call button for the elevator, you hear a clicking sound coming from behind. A male figure was walking towards you and the elevator you’ve chosen to use even though there were plenty available. His finger touches the button before you could hit it. Looking up with a stern look on your face to see who beat you to the race, it was no one else other than your boyfriend who you’ve been dating in secret.

“Good morning, Miss. I see you’ve come earlier for today’s meeting,” extra emphasis on the Miss to toy with you. He’s holding himself back from smirking to keep it professional in case anyone's around. He cleared his throat, turning his attention to watch the number of floors race down to your level.

“Morning Mr. CEO. I see you also came early but what for? I’m the one who’s preparing the meeting for you,” you’re looking at him like he’s got something up his sleeve. Typically he comes to the meeting right when it’s starting, you never see him come early because you actually do your job right.

“Just wanted to help. I’m your boss overall, I’m here to help you submit your work to me,” he chuckled. Rolling your eyes, the elevator stops at floor one. Smoothly opening its doors upon entry, you both step in. 

About to click the same floor, he exchanges a look that says You can press it. Returning the favor, you press it for him. The meeting was located on one of the top floors of the whole building, floor sixty-nine. The doors closed, creating that gravitational pull as the elevator is about to take off into the air. You stood shoulder length apart with your boss.

“Sooo… now that we’re alone would you mind telling me why you’re such a tease this early morning? What did you do before getting here..?” Naturally you’re curious why he was in such a good mood, this early. Usually he’s the grumpiest and coldest person alive in the morning. You pondered, He must’ve done something devious, but what would he do before even getting to work besides eating and getting dressed? Catching his attention with your words, he looks down at you, practically beaming with joy. 

“Because I wanted to come early to.. I don’t know.. get some alone time with you, since you know.. the rules, even though I’m basically running this company” he’s stepping towards you, making you walk into the wall backwards. Your ass touches the handrail of the elevator leaving you nowhere else to run. His actions have your mouth parted in surprise. You always thought he didn’t even know his own rules, he’s just a man living carefree while running a big company. 

Finger on your chin, tilting your head up so you’d look at him. His sinful eyes narrowed looking into your eyes. You’re starting to turn a light pink hue as you grasped onto the handrail, as if it was gonna help you achieve anything. 

“Do you really want to do this.. at work?” Both of you are very aware that there’s just a one in a million chance of getting caught this early in the office. You just have to pray that no one’s already on one of the floors pressing the button for their departure. 

His lips lightly brush against yours, a simple peck that you wanted more of. He knew that of course. Noticing that you’re currently at floor 17, it was gonna be a long ride up and you both had time to waste while you stood in the traveling structure. Pulling his head down to meet yours with your hands, your lips meet once more. His hands tightly gripped your waist to draw your body closer to his as you two shared a long passionate kiss. Sliding your hands down to his shoulders, you held onto him as you sloppily fought with tongue for dominance.

His right knee gradually started to come in between the soaring heat your legs produced. Slamming you down against the wall for support as he started to rub his knee harshly against your stiff pencil skirt, getting it to scrunch up at your waist. Enough to edge you on, he’s grinding his knee against your damp and sensitive clothed clit. You can’t help but moan into the kiss, sparking more arousal to catch onto your panties. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you part from the kiss, head laying on his shoulder feeling the sensations he’s creating from under. He’s kissing the crook of your neck. Fluttering your hazed eyes, you were currently at floor 24. Getting a lot of fun before prepping the company meeting in a timely manner that’s worth the same time as traveling seven floors up, not bad. 

Your worries and concerns dissolved when he put two fingers on your clothed cunt. Feeling your wetness increase due to the thrill, he snickers at you.

“How many floors have we got left baby?” Whispering in your ear, his hot breath makes your skin flinch. You squint back at the small digital screen displayed above the buttons. 

“Umm.. 39. Wait no, 36 floors. Well it’s moving up,” enjoying the adrenaline he plants another kiss on your lips. 

“Haha, that’s so much time to let us get down.” Looking down, you feel a slight tug on the sides of your panties. His hands were at work pulling them down just enough to have your bare cunt exposed, leaving you to quiver as the chilled office air touched your wet pussy. His fingers on your clit, you’re holding on to his biceps covered by his blazer as he moves his digits in slow small circles. Breathing out whimpers of pleasure, he kisses your collarbone, inhaling your scent. 

“I love the smell of your perfume. How do you smell and look so good every morning? I know I don’t show it, but whenever I see you running around the office I can’t help but stare. You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He cooed, increasing the pace of his fingers that traced your clit multiple times with no end. You’re whining, trying to push his right arm off your clit, overstimulated. 

“We’re nearing.. floor 50 M-Mr. CEO” stuttering, high off the pleasure. You can’t help your legs as they start to twitch and shake from him teasing your swollen clit.

“Oh, please.” Resisting your hands that try to push him back, he plunges his fingers into you. His left hand takes your weak grip off him, leading you close to his freshly shaven jawline, landing a kiss on your knuckles. 

“I’ll make you finish before we arrive,” giving you a defiant look, he finds your sweet spot. Your back arches against the traveling elevator wall as he pokes and curls his fingers inside you. Secreting more fluids that started to drip down onto his knuckles, the squelching noises grew audibly. His head was slightly glancing over his shoulder to count down how many floors were left. Currently, at the 59th floor of the building. Feeling the sparks grow unignorable down there, the build up from the pleasure started to occur, your orgasm was awaiting to be unleashed. 

“I.. I’m gonna.. gonna, cum..!” Pulling your head back as you surrender yourself to the pleasure, soft kisses being planted on your jawline. His speed increases rapidly probing at your incoming release, creating a line of milky white froth on his fingers. 

“Cum for me, Miss. On my fingers. I want to feel you clench tightly around my fingers when you cum,” were the words you heard come from his mouth when you orgasmed. Your legs twitched as you felt the gravity in the elevator shift, coming to a halt. Shit. Why did the elevator come to a stop? Your mind was blank, trying to recover from the slightly numb sensation and regain your composure. 

Looking at the floor number, you were only on floor 66. Did someone come in earlier than you to also prepare for the company meeting? He’s looking back with a shocked look of worry flashing in his eyes. Covering your body and exposed bottom with his big build, he puts both his hands at the sides of your head, against the wall as if he’s shielding you from the door. His face screamed out, It’s gonna be okay, you’re not to be blamed. You’re breathlessly trying to look behind him, gazing at the elevator buttons, then with the floor number trying to figure out why it stopped moving. 

You see the elevator doors open where you make eye contact with your coworkers as they peer back at you, as well as the imitating male figure that’s facing towards you, the CEO.

*.༄ TETSUROU KUROO, MIYA OSAMU, TOORU OIKAWA, SATORU GOJO, SUKUNA, KAMO CHOSO, SUNA RINTARO, HAWKS, TARTAGLIA, WRIOTHESLEY, TENGEN UZUI (ALL AGED UP/POST-TIME SKIP), and of course any of your favorite characters!!!

masterlist here

[bratphilia]

office chair (w. afton x reader)

request: "hi angel!!! ummmmmm…….. could you possiblg write some big age gap, lap riding and kissing + teasing with steve raglan/mathew lillard william? asking for a friend.."

note: sorry it's a little short but i hope you enjoy anon!!

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is 18-21, william is like 45-50+), dry humping, riding, make out session, implied friends w/ benefits

you're in his office. again. surprise, surprise. but you both knew what you were getting into the moment you locked eyes in the waiting room of his office. especially once he locked the door behind him after you entered.

steve has had you on every surface of this office. even up against the walls. bent over the desk, on the little couch in his office — fuck, even on the floor.

you don't quite know what it is that makes him so attractive to you. he's a weird guy, to be honest. he's enigmatic and distant about his past and his emotions, whenever you've tried to actually talk to him. for now, you chalk it up to his age. you've never seen what he looked like when he was younger, but he aged like fine wine.

anyways, you're sitting in his lap in his desk chair. you've been in this exact position many times before, but that never takes away from how exciting it is. he's cradling your face with his hand and in control of the kiss you two are entangled in.

steve's mouth moves against yours, slow and sensual. his tongue guides yours in a slow dance. sometimes it's rough when he has little patience, or running on a low budget of time, or when he deals with an annoying client. but this time, the two of you have all the time in the world. whenever the two of you break apart for air, you press your foreheads together, listening to each other breathe.

over the time of your kiss, you become increasingly needy. so much so that steve takes notice. "want me that badly, huh?"

you begin grinding your hips against his jeans. the friction feels absolutely delicious against your clothed clit, making you whimper. "'need you."

he chuckles. "you already have me, sweetheart."

"steve, please."

he takes a moment to appreciate you. wandering eyes travel down and up your body, to where you're pushing your hips against him desperately, to your heaving chest, and to your eyes squeezed shut as you chase any kind of relief you can get. "i won't torture you, baby."

your heart soars. you hop off his lap, begrudgingly, and for a moment you miss being close to him, but he starts unbuckling his belt, practically making you salivate. he only pulls his cock out, leaving on his pants on. you wordlessly follow suit and take off your panties. purposefully, you leave your skirt on. you know all too well how he likes it.

he pats his thighs to beckon to to come sit. your heart thumps already with excitement. you hop on his lap, instantly sinking yourself down on his hard length. the both of you moan in unison. steve's hands find their way to your hips and pushes your pencil skirt up so it's bunched around your lower waist.

"ride me, baby," he almost grunts. you place your hands on his shoulders and begin to move at a slow pace. moving up and down, up and down, up and down.

steve is leaned back lazily. his gaze switches from your pretty face and down to where your pussy is sliding against his cock. his expression is just too good. flushed red face, sweat beading on his forehead, and pupils dialated.

you try to move faster but it's hard with your stamina and the position you're in. "help me out?" you ask in a sweet, fucked out voice, one that's music to his ears.

without another word, he uses his grip on your hips to guide you at a faster pace. soon enough, you're riding him with reckless abandon. your moaning freely at this point and the sounds you're making bring him closer to the edge.

knowing how much you love it, he leans forward and whispers dirty praises in your ear. "you're doing so well f'me, love dove, riding my cock so well."

"mmm," you moan in response. you wrap your hands around his neck and he takes the initiative to bury his face is the crook of yours.

you feel your own orgasm approaching as your whining gets louder. you both stopped caring who hears you a long time ago. steve can feel his own orgasm approaching closer too as his own grunts and groans increase in longevity.

he pulls you down and up on his cock faster, encouraging your movements. "come on baby girl, come for me. come for me, i'm close too."

the both of you finish at the same time. he pulls you down on his member to sit still as hot spurts of his cum shoot into you. you both moan at the same time as you take in the feeling of your insides being painted by him and your pussy clenching around him.

when the both of you calm down, the room is filled with the quiet sound of breathing. steve doesn't pull out yet and holds you close to him and peppers kisses on your face, your neck, and your chest, while you lay your head on his chest.

[mysumeow]

. . . ꒰ TEMPTING

Warnings: afab body and breasts, reader is referred to with you/your only. PIV unprotected sex, edging, prone bone position, thigh job, pwp (plot what plot). This is sort of a continuation of another smut i posted but you can read this without reading the first one.

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: uhg. lilia. i love him. i love general lilia. thats it that all i have to say.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ♡ 🌷 . . KOFI | TWST MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS

Whenever a window of opportunity to rest presents itself, you’ll sit on the nearest tree stump or log available, idly watching what happens around you.

You see soldiers' training, sparring, fixing tents, and the general dividing tasks among his subordinates with a stern voice. Lilia’s an example of what being a leader means—not limiting himself to delegating labor, but also lending a hand.

He grabbed the handle of his lithic weapon as he sparred with one soldier; with practiced ease, Lilia unarmed the soldier. The general reprimanded the other fae for losing his footing over a basic movement.

Lilia plans tactics for ambushes furtively, aiming to attack the enemy’s weakness first. Deft and sharp.

Soon, you’d understand that the general isn’t used to docility of any kind. Neither giving nor receiving. A war general shouldn’t allow a margin of error, steps should be given with precision and intent on subduing your adversary.

You recalled your first intimate night with Lilia. You remembered the sensation of him holding back, and even then, he still did a number on your body. You’ve spent enough time with the fae to know that the moment you try to point out any attempt at tenderness on his part, he would deny it.

You couldn’t help but find it endearing. And your curiosity increased the more you wondered about to what extent you could tease him and make him lose his constraints. Lilia’s libido was pretty responsive to what you did or said, so it wouldn’t be difficult to push him in that direction.

The moment the soldiers were already in their tents, you sneaked into the general’s.

“I’m heading to the lake to wash off the dirt,” you said as you entered the tent. You found your fae writing something down on the map splayed across the table.

Lilia acknowledged you with a hum.

You sighed. “I don’t wanna go alone. The woods become frightening the moment there’s no more sunlight, you know.”

Lilia dropped the pencil and looked at you. “A little dirt on your body’s not going to kill you,” he teased.

“You know I can’t sleep like that. I sweated a lot today, too. Baur made me accompany that expedition group to the mountain’s skirt in the morning,” you complained. “I promise it won’t be long.”

You sensed that he was about to give up.

“And someone could sneak up on me and see me naked.”

That was enough argument for the fae to stand up from his chair and rush to tag along with you.

This was your favorite moment of the day, when you could not just finally go to bed but also freshen up with clean water. Even if the temperature might be a bit chilly during the night, the fresh water was welcomed to clean you up from the dirt and sweat that clinged to your skin.

“The water feels nice,” You hummed as you dipped your toes into it. Lilia was more concerned about making sure no one was near, though, his ears flicked at the slightest suspicious sound.

You began undressing in front of him, as you have done many times before. Even with your back turned towards him, you could feel his stare roaming around your flesh.

You carefully entered into the serene lake until the water covered your chest.

“Lilia,” You called out to him again. His gaze returned to you. “Why don’t you join? You look like you need this, too.”

“You said you wouldn’t take long. I still have work to finish.” He crossed his arms, gripping his lithic.

“Just this once,” You almost pouted. “You’ve been busy these past few days. I miss you already. I’ll even help you wash your back.”

You held Lilia’s stare before he, for the second time today, humored you. Soon, his clothes were untidily placed next to yours.

Beaming with joy, you hugged Lilia the instant he was within reach.

“General, your hair’s getting wet,” You hurried to help him fix his hairstyle in a way that the inconvenience would be resolved. “There. All done.”

Lilia grumbled about something meaningless as he allowed you to scrub his back, washing off both dirt and dried blood and uncovering new lacerations he had gained from recent ambushes. You traced them with your fingers, leaning closer to kiss those scars.

You couldn’t see Lilia’s expression, but you did sense his body’s temperature going up.

“Mm, you’re so warm,” You relished the warmth from the fae’s body. Your tits pressed flush against his back, and your hands roamed around his front—feather-like touches teasing his chest and abdomen. You were aware that your words and actions were leading in a certain direction, so before Lilia beat you to it and followed through with it, you pulled away from him. “It’s getting chilly, though. Let’s head back already.”

In the blink of an eye, Lilia gripped your wrist and pulled you towards his chest. Your backside making contact with something hard and hot, nudging in between your thighs.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Hm? I thought the general had work to finish,” You feigned innocence.

“That can wait. Right now, I need to have you.”

“But we’re in a lake! Someone could walk in on us. Let’s head back to the tent,” Ignoring the evident ache in your body, you did your best to deter him. For fun. To test how far you could make him wait. If not for your determination to uncover the fae’s strength, you would’ve conceded.

Under the promise, the general’s complaint had died for the moment.

Once in the tent, you were preparing to go to sleep, until a sudden force pinned you against the bed. A small squeak left you, and the familiar arms squeezing your waist made you understand that your little teasing reaped an interesting reaction from him.

“Lilia—” You tried to gain some balance by trying to prop your torso up with your hands, but the general immobilized you by further pinning your legs against the mattress with his.

“You little tease, you think I wouldn’t notice what you were trying to do?” He brushed away the hair covering your nape to nip at the sensitive skin there. “If you wanted me to rough your body up, you should’ve just asked for it,”

This was what you wanted, although you didn’t imagine it would be this soon. If this little teasing got you to this point, you couldn’t imagine how he would be if you had done more...

One hand slipped under your underwear while his other hand covered your mouth in time before a moan escaped you. With his index and middle fingers, he began rubbing your clit in circular motions.

“I’ve been treating you with so much leniency you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with,” His breath against your ear made you shiver, and a renewed sense of pleasure overtook your body. “I’ll have to remind you,”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” You managed to whisper, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible but failing with how he played with your sex. Lilia really did know you inside out.

“You were already wet when I slid my hand under your clothes. Don’t try to act coy now,” He seemed to be amused, above all.

You clutched the sheets as you lost yourself in pleasure, your head falling against the pillow and using it to muffle your voice. You barely register Lilia pulling your pajama pants down and off your legs.

The fae grew eager, having a sliver of enough composure left to discard your underwear, but your uncoordinated and trembling body made the task more complicated than needed. Instead, he pushed it to the side, his fingers not once faltering in stimulating you.

A muffled whimper of his name. Not even a second later, Lilia stopped his movements.

“Noo, what’re you doing,” You protested, not expecting him to halt. “I was about to…”

“Aw, you were about to. What a pity,” He mocked you, momentarily freeing your body from his antsy hands to remove his own garments. Once done, you felt him spread your slicked pussy lips with his thumbs, eyeing you up with a satisfied, complacent grin. “You like being treated like this. You have no salvation, do you?”

Despite not being able to deny it, your face burned from embarrassment. Even if Lilia tended to put your pleasure first and holds back from going all out, the change in that tactful demeanor into a meaner one still excited you.

While holding you open still, he grinded his cock between your folds, using both his pre-cum and your arousal to lubricate it. You were growing impatient, and thus, tried to grind back against him to incite him into already giving in.

Lilia rested his weight against your back, his chest flush against it, weighing you down. Lilia dug his fingernails into your flesh, while demanding that you stay still. His fingers went back to playing with your clit, using your sticky inner thighs to pleasure himself.  

After what felt like forever, the tip prodded inside, taking his time to stuff you with more of his dick. He pulled back until the just head was in and thrust with more strength. The feeling of Lilia’s warm body embracing yours and his thickness stretching you almost made you forget about holding back your voice.

From the very moment you conceived the idea of teasing him, to Lilia not allowing you to touch yourself or him, the buildup to your orgasm approached faster than what you expected. As if both factors weren’t enough, you were still sensitive over the climax you were robbed of prior moments ago.

You mewled, trying to reach behind you and hold his hand to ground yourself.

Instead, the fae grabbed your arms and pinned them against your back, his pace not stuttering for even a minute.

This was what you wanted—for him to be rougher…and within a couple more smacks of his hips against yours, you came hard around him, broken moans of his name escaping from your bitten lips. Lilia quieted himself by kissing your shoulder the moment he released his cum inside.

Sore and spent, your head collapsed forward against the pillow again. You heard Lilia’s amused chuckle, resting next to you while keeping an arm wrapped around you.

“I wasn’t too rough, right?” He muttered after a while in silence, his eyes inspecting your body. “Does it hurt somewhere?”

“My arms, you gripped me too hard,” You mumbled. “I didn’t notice it at the moment because…it felt nice…”

At your confession, he looked taken back by it before his expression shifted into a relieved one and he chuckled. “I should’ve known you like being treated like that. You are quite keen about my fangs, and I’ve noticed how your body melts when I bite you,”

Before you could fawn over the coy visage that took over his eyes for a split second, it faded away with the same ease it appeared as he turned his head to the other side.

“I love it when you’re trying to be gentle, even if you’re not that great at it,” You teased, your fingers brushing his hair. Lilia grunted, suddenly grumpy about you pointing that out. “But I also enjoy it when you’re rough,”

He humphed, still avoiding facing you. You smiled at him, despite it not being visible to him. You closed your eyes, feeling exhaustion getting to you.