#i don't have a blouse that looks good with the slacks

[gideonisms]

Me: I'm not even in pain this month period week is going to be a good week for me!

Me 5 minutes later: [experiencing every emotional reaction from the past 5-7 years at once] damn why does all my clothing look bad on me now

[bunnys-kisses]

baby trapping (vol. 3) - nanami kento

pairing: nanami kento x fem!readerrating: 18+ summary: Nanami, Nanami, Nanami. Always such the gentleman. He brought you flowers, he drove you home from work. He was almost husband material! Except three months ago you rejected his proposal and since then he had been trying to get you pregnant.

So far had had been unsuccessful. tags: smut, pwp, baby-trapping, love hotels, dark themes, breeding/pregnancy kink, love hotels, unprotected smut

Vol. One (Toji), Vol. Two (Geto & Gojo)

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Nanami, Nanami, Nanami. Always such a gentleman. He brought you flowers, he drove you home from work. He was almost husband material! Except three months ago you rejected his proposal and since then he had been trying to get you pregnant.

So far it had not been successful.

-

The blond drove to your work in the expensive car he owned. He was on his way to pick you up from the dead-end job you somehow loved. He thought your talents could be useful elsewhere. Like the importat role of a stay-at-home mother to two beautiful children. But he hoped you'd at least have four children. Make the large empty house he owned into a home.

But you were so determined to be a young professional. You wanted to be working in an office. You wanted to go out for drinks and have a good time. There was a lot you wanted to do before you settled down. But Nanami was tired of waiting.

If you wouldn't accept his ring, then you'd have to accept his baby. Or rather babies.

You left work on time and met Nanami in the parking garage. You spotted the expensive car right away and quickly headed over to him. Your heart was in your throat as you got closer. You had a deep love for Nanami, you thought he was so perfect.

You were under the impression that he took the rejection well and was going to wait till you were most established at work before you got married! You got to the car and happily knocked on the passenger window then waved at him.

He smiled at you before he unlocked the door and opened it for you. His eyes darted to your legs where you gave him a flash of your panties under your business skirt. The sight made him tighten his grasp on the steering wheel.

He soon patted you on the thigh before he watched you buckle yourself in. He leaned over to kiss you on the lips, ”I was thinking, maybe, we could check into a hotel before dinner.“ He placed a hand on your thigh, ”I've been thinking of you all day and I don't think you want to be fucked in a resturant bathroom. I know you love a nice bed.“ He softly chuckled before he tucked hair behind your ear, ”How does that sound?“

You cupped his face as he gazed at you, ”Nanami.“ You giggled, ”Am I really that irresistible?“

He leaned in for another kiss, the way a dutiful boyfriend was, and replied, ”Yes, you know I look at you and can't get enough.“ Then kissed you once me. His hand grazed your inner thigh briefly before he pulled away. He watched you nod to his earlier question before he put the car into drive and headed off towards the nearest love hotel.

The hotel was nice, it blended rather nicely into the other buildings in the neighborhood. It wasn't hard to get a room and before you knew it, you were being tossed onto the bed like a rag doll.

He grabbed you by the hair as he pulled you in for another searing kiss. His cock twitched in his slacks at the thought of your beautiful form. You would be so beautiful pregnant, round with his child.

You would be so perfect with tender breasts filled with milk, a sore back and a heavy belly. He believed you'd be happier as his wife, he didn't know what got into your head about being stuck working at  a job that would get you nowhere!

But you were so simple at times, sometimes women couldn't see the bigger picture. It wasn't your fault, Nanami would help you with that. He started to unbutton the front of your blouse.

  “You look amazing.“ He said, ”You look more beautiful than anyone else on this earth.“ He could feel the heat in his face as he exposed your breasts to him, ”Fuck.“

You looked away, ”They're not that impressive, Nanami.“

He kissed down your neck, ”It's more than impressive. It's perfect.“ Then he started to leave marks on your skin and down to the tops of your breasts. He felt you start to loosen his tie.

He didn't let you throw it off the bed. He wrapped it in his left hand while he continued to give all his attention to your breasts. The marks were dark and could be seen easily. The notion of having his marks on you made you wet.

  ”Nanami.“

  ”You're perfect.“ He rubbed his clothed cock up against your clothed pussy. You could feel the weight of his erection against you, ”Let me take control tonight. Don't worry. I'll keep you safe.“

  ”Nan-“

  ”Trust me.“ He said softly. It was time to put his plan into action. Make you unsuspecting of him orgasming deep inside of you. To fill you with his cum until there was zero choice but to get pregnant.

All it took was one cell to find home with another. The thought aroused him, he didn't have to be sneaky with holes in the condom. He could easily impregnate you tonight, all you had to do was put your full trust into him.

You looked up into his eyes, there was a look of worry. There was even a crease in your brow that he smoothed out with his thumb. He smiled at you softly. Play the sheep until he could become the wolf.

  ”Alright, honey.“ You said as you reached to unzip your skirt, ”I trust you. I'll always trust you.“ Then gave him a broad smile as you unzipped the article of clothing.

He looked at you for a moment, there was a glint in his eye that you couldn't put into words. But it made an unfamiliar feeling rise up in you. Your heart raced as you both got undressed.

His gaze was tense, he wanted to see every curve on you. You wondered what he was thinking about as he observed you. But you would've never guessed it was the idea of getting you pregnant. To trap you with his baby.

He knew better than you, he knew what you needed. And that was a Nanami brat running around. And if he was lucky there would be multiples. He put the tie over your eyes, ”Trust me.“ And you had no choice but to trust him.

  ”You brought a condom right?“

He chuckled softly, ”Of course I did, the thin ones. Just the way you like it.“ He dipped his hand between your bare thighs and touched along your pussy. His thumb brushed against your clit and you shuddered. He smirked to himself, such a vulnerable young woman. So gentle and sweet.

You'd make the perfect wife for him. He wondered if they sold wedding dresses for women who already had their honeymoons. He smirked, knowing you wouldn't see it.

He played with you gently. You got more wet the more he played with you. Your hands dug into the sheet on the bed.

Maybe this wasn't the ideal place to make a baby, but it would have to do. He'd make sure the delivery was somewhere nicer. Maybe at home where he could take care of you. The thought made his cock bob, he may be a pervert but at least he could take out all the sexual frustration out on his soon-to-be wife.

  ”I'm going to move you now, my love.“He said with his voice close to your ear.

You nodded, ”Okay, honey.“ Then felt yourself being put on all fours. You dropped your front half into the soft pillows and kept your hips up so he could reach you. You wiggled your ass to entice him. Which was soon followed by a harsh slap. You made a small ”eep“ noise from the pain but it only made your pussy wetter.

  ”Such a beautiful sight.“ He said, ”I love you, I want you more than anything. I look at you and think of no one else. You're mine,  my love. All mine.“ His words made your heart flutter.

He rubbed your cheeks as he got behind you. His grip was rough which made you roll your hips in an attempt to get out of it. But there was no escaping him.

  ”Nanami.“ You whimpered.

  ”What did I say? You need to listen, I need you to trust me. Be a good girl and spread those legs a little more. I want to see your beautiful pussy.“ He was excited that his plan was working. That you so easily fell into it. It was as if it were destiny that you were meant to get pregnant tonight. And if not tonight, then he'd keep trying until you ended up with a child.

He situated himself behind him and he reached between your legs to your stomach which he playfully touched. His cock leaked pre-cum from his imagination going wild over the idea of you pregnant with his child.

He shakily exhaled to compose himself before he pulled his hand away to hold onto your hip while he guided his hardened cock into you. He groaned out loud as he felt your heat consume him.

  ”Honey!“ You whimpered, ”You're so big. I can feel it so deep!“ You gripped onto the pillow under your head as you tried to relax. His size was impressive and you knew it was his even without seeing.

You held onto the pillows and moaned into them. You knew the rooms were soundproof but you were worried about being too loud. The sound of sex filled the room as he started to move.

  ”Please, honey! Ah, it feels so good!“ You whimpered as you held onto the bed to keep yourself steady. Your heart was racing as he thrusted up into you.

  ”Does it feel good?“ He asked, he smiled to himself. The idea of you succumbing to pleasure. You just let him finish inside of you, get you pregnant and become his wife. It was a dream for him.

  ”It feels amazing!“ You moaned as you rolled your hips in time with his thrusts. You held onto the pillows tightly as he started to move faster. Your heart was racing and you knew your face was flushed. You panted heavily into the covers.

  ”Good, good." He said softly to himself as he kept thrusting up into you. Your pussy clenched around him as he kept going. The feeling was erotic, it made his whole body warm. To be so close to you.

He wanted you so badly, he adored you. He was obsessed with you. He wanted to make sure that no one else could ever have you. His breathing became heavier as he moved.

The whole room grew hotter with each passing moment. Two people together, creating something beautiful even if one person didn't know it yet. The bed creaked under you as your bodies moved.

You felt hot all over as you two fucked in the centre of the bed. You panted heavily into the pillows as you tried to keep up. The feeling was amazing, it was like mini sparks were going through you. Your gut twisted with excitement over being so intimate with him.

He was a perfect lover.

Your head became cloudy the closer you got to orgasm. You felt like you were running off hormones as you felt so close to climax. You held on tightly as arched your back as you came. You groaned into the pillows, your voice was loud and almost got stuck in your throat from the feeling of the blond's cock so deep inside of you.

  “I love you, honey.” He said. 'you're all mine, wife,' he added in his head as he watched you go limp on the bed. He pulled you up by the hips and fucked into you even harder.

He was thrilled that he could finish inside of you. Your head was so fuzzy you'd barely noticed if he came with zero protection. It was simply nature telling you it was time to be a mother.

With one more hard thrust, he finished inside of you. He held onto your hips tightly as he gave a final thrust. He leaned a little to make sure that all of it got to its intended destination. He could feel his blond hair sticking to his forehead. He felt hot all over as he pulled out and laid down beside you.

You rolled into his arms, your mind was still blank from the intense orgasm you had. You didn't notice the cum that was oozing out of your poor cunt, but that would be cleaned up soon. As when Nanami came to, he made sure to clean up any trace that he finished inside of you.

You'd know what he did when that test came back positive. He wiped your clean, even the sweat on your forehead. He kissed the warmed skin. He had broken your mind with an intense orgasm and hopefully impregnated you.

The thought made him smile as he said, ”Let's get you in the shower.“ As he approached you. He had to be a husband and father now, which meant protecting what was his.

-

  ”That's it.“ He moaned, ”That's it.“ His wedding ring gleamed in the afternoon light, ”We have to be quick before Misao wakes up.“

You held onto his chest as you rode his cock. Your heavy breasts bounced as did your swollen belly. Two babies in two years, it could almost be a record.

Nanami rubbed your swollen middle, ”My beautiful wife. All mine.”  And you moaned in response. His cock twitched inside of you. This was all he ever wanted, but he'd only be truly satisfied with more than four children. He really wondered if he could break the record within a few years.

Either way, you'd only grow more beautiful. His beautiful wife, at home and caring for the growing home. Just as he wanted it.

xoxo, U・x・U

[cheolism]

tilf: teacher i'd like to fuck

➳ former student! hoshi x professor! reader ➳ summary: the day after graduation, soonyoung visits your office to tell you about his secret feelings. ➳ wc is approx 6k ➳ warnings/tags: professor/former student relationship, use of the "professor" title sexually, hoshi leaning into the idea of the two of you fucking while he was your student. office sex, desk sex, pull-out method, fingering and oral (f rec.), confessions and relationship discussion. talk of having feelings for a student, for a teacher. marks and bruises, pussy slapping, crying during sex, hoshi is obsessed with you. good luck. lots of dirty talk from hoshi. mentions of breeding/mounting. reader wears panties, long skirt and blouse, but no gender is explicitly mentioned. panty sniffing, name/identity porn (iykyk). metaphors to sex being paradise, heavenly, etc. ➳ MDNI. if you don't like this sort of thing, do not read. ➳ author's note: no one asked for this but i got this idea and got. cough. fixated on it. pls enjoy!!

soonyoung had been looking forward to this day for over a year.

a lot of college students tend to look forward to their graduation. they were ready to take on the world, ready to become fully independent adults who no longer were totally reliant on the generosity of family members and the government. soonyoung, however, looked forward to his graduation day for another reason.

you.

you were, in soonyoung's eyes, the most perfect a person could be. you always smiled at him when he greeted you, always let him talk out his ideas without interrupting him. he adored the sheepish, coyish look you got whenever he brought you your favorite drink from the university's coffee shop.

but he also loved how you looked. he loved it when you wore more casual looks, trading in your business slacks for jeans. he loved when you would turn, showing off the shape of your thighs and ass and how your jeans seemed to hug the shape of you so tightly it was as if they were a second skin. he loved it when you wore that white blouse with the lace around the collar, how it showed the top of the valley between your tits.

but more than just being attracted to you physically, soonyoung loved spending time with you. he tried to be the first person to tell you hello every morning, tried to come up with reasons as to why he needed to meet you after class, as to why he needed to stop by your office for extra help.

because, unfortunately, you were his anthropology professor.

a year ago he had needed a social science credit, and so had signed up for a random class. it was, as it turned out, the best decision soonyoung ever made. because on the first day he walked into the classroom and he saw you.

he remembered how beautiful you looked on that first day. smiling brightly, hair falling around your face angelically. you had asked his name and he had eagerly offered it, so much so that chan, who was taking the class with him, laughed at him later.

"soonyoung's got a crush on the professor," chan accused that night. seungkwan had given soonyoung a disapproving glare, which cause soonyoung to gasp in offense.

"i'm not going to actually do anything," soonyoung said. "i don't want to get professor in trouble, anyways. i'll wait until i graduate like a good person would."

"a good person wouldn't get the hots for their teacher," seungkwan snapped back. but then again, seungkwan had been the one to go out and help soonyoung in picking out the flowers he would give to you, so obviously seungkwan wasn't too disapproving.

that first semester passed too quickly in soonyoung's opinion. he hated it. he hated how the more he seemed to adore you, the more his heart began to swell and warm at the thought of you, the faster time went. nonetheless, regardless of his affections, the semester ended and you took soonyoung aside.

"i know we're not supposed to do this," you had said, voice soft. you reached into your bag and pulled out a chocolate bar, offering it to soonyoung with wide eyes. "but i really enjoyed having you in class, soonyoung. you always seemed to brighten my day."

that afternoon soonyoung signed up for a different one of your classes the following semester.

and so a year had passed with soonyoung admiring you from afar, signing up for your classes at the end of each semester and trying to hide the way you made his heart flutter and his dick swell.

("we really didn't need to know that," wonwoo had whined, pushing his glasses up as he rubbed at his face in distress. "just keep your horny thoughts to yourself, thanks.")

but! it was now the day after graduation, which meant soonyoung was free from both the chains of the education system and the restraints that kept him from telling you of his feelings.

he was so excited that he nearly tripped going up the stairs of the social science building. someone called after him but soonyoung just waved them on, gripping the bouquet a little tighter and trying to regulate his breathing.

it was fine, he thought. either you would let him whisk you off your feet into an eternity of love and passion or you'd politely smile at him and turn him down.

it was fine.

it was all fine.

the halls were cool as he walked down them, nearly abandoned. most of the students were at their living spaces, packing them up and saying goodbyes to their friends. professors and faculty were busy at their desks, doing whatever it was that professors and faculty did when they weren't instructing.

and soonyoung was here, on his way to confess to you.

he wondered what he should say, exactly. he hadn't given it much thought, but at the same time he had. he had thought enough about how you would react to his words, to his heartfelt confession, but hadn't really thought about what those words would be.

maybe he should've asked jihoon to help him write you a song.

but then he was outside of your office door, heart hammering in his ears so loudly that he couldn't even think, and soonyoung swallowed down all of his panic and stress and raised his fist to the door.

"coming!" you called from the other side, and soonyoung felt himself smile. he couldn't help it, really. the sound of your voice was like fuel to him, fueling the flames of his heart.

wait -- that was good. maybe that's what he should tell you.

you opened the door, eyes immediately finding his. you smiled, your entire face brightening, and fuck if soonyoung wasn't in love then he would have been just by your grin.

"soonyoung!" you said, leaning against your door. "you're early! your email said you would be here closer to one."

"ah," he said, searching his mind for an excuse. in the end, all he said was something about being excited. you accepted his words nonetheless with a soft grin, nodding along.

your eyes flicked down to the flowers. soonyoung gasped, and then shoved out his hands. "these -- these are for you!"

"thank you," you returned, smiling still. you reached out for the flowers and took them, and soonyoung felt as if he was going to go crazy when he could literally feel the graze of your fingers against his. "they're beautiful, soonyoung."

"i remember you saying they were your favorite flowers," he said. you stepped aside, waving him inside of your office. soonyoung ducked in, immediately feeling himself relax once he was in your space. he had been in your office numerous times, enough to where he felt as if he knew it just as well as you did. "i hope i was right."

"you were," you murmured, looking down at the blossoms. soonyoung's heart fluttered like the wings of a hummingbird as you slowly lifted the flowers to your nose, sniffing.

"do they smell good?"

"well," you began, eyes flicking up to his. "they smell like flowers."

soonyoung laughed, feeling himself relax even more. he watched as you left the door, letting it slowly creak shut behind you. you went to your desk, gently laying the bouquet beside your computer. "thank you for bringing these for me, soonyoung. it was awfully sweet of you. then again," you said, your smile turning coyish, "you've been awfully sweet to me this entire time. bringing me drinks in the morning, walking me to my car at night."

soonyoung shrugged. your smile and eyes were doing something to him. "it's how a lady should be treated."

"ah," you said, biting down on your lip. he couldn't bring his eyes from your mouth, how your teeth played with it. "and that's what i've been this whole time, hm? a lady, not a professor."

soonyoung felt his face fall slightly. "wait -- i don't -- i mean -- yes, you're a lady, but you're also --"

you laughed then, loudly and brightly. soonyoung felt his panic melt away as you leaned into his space, placing a gentle hand on his forearm. "it's all right, soonyoung. i know what you meant."

you began moving back and away, and soonyoung just couldn't help but reach out, grabbing your hand before you could retract it all the way. he squeezed your hand between both of his, feeling his heart rise up into his throat. "wait. i need to tell you something."

you blinked, surprised. "okay?"

"i -- you probably get this all the time," he said, laughing sheepishly. "probably get students telling you this every other week. but i want you to know i'm not like the others, you know? i don't want something that lasts just a semester -- that's why i waited, yeah? and not just for fun -- because i think we can have fun, but i don't want it to be just for fun. i think we can have something, the two of us --"

"what?" you gasped, breath leaving you in a rush. soonyoung glanced up at your face. your eyes were wide, mouth hanging open. "soonyoung, what are you talking about?"

soonyoung laughed weakly and awkwardly, loosening his grip on your hands. "uh. about my feelings for you?"

"your feelings for me," you echoed, brows furrowed as you tried to work out what he was saying. "which are -- what? just to be clear."

soonyoung sucked in a breath. "uh. i thought the flowers would've like, you know, done the talking for me."

you blinked at him, still confused. "the flowers? what talking, soonyoung? why did you bring me flowers if not as -- do you -- soonyoung?"

you gasped out his name as if he had done something scandalous which, all things considered, he had. a former student who waited a day after graduating to chase after his professor? what was he thinking?

"i --" he choked, and then soonyoung completely retracted from you. he made himself small, bringing his shoulders in and tucking his hands in his pockets. "i uh, you know. like you."

"you have to be very clear with me, soonyoung," you said. you moved towards him. not enough to be in his space, but enough to make his heart flutter again. "like me how."

"like -- romantically."

you echoed him, nodding slightly. then you brought your hands together, rubbing at your knuckles. "okay. so -- soonyoung --"

"wait," he called out, feeling his nerves spike. "if you're going to reject me, just like -- kick me in the ass and get me out, okay? don't try to sugarcoat it. i can take it. i'm a grown man."

"i'm not going to reject you, soonyoung," you said. "i just. i need to say something, okay? i just need you to listen to me."

soonyoung nodded, his heart speeding up in his chest. you weren't rejecting him. you were giving him a chance. "okay. i'll be quiet. promise."

you threw him a fond look, and then you schooled your face into a much more serious look. "okay. i need you to know that i'm -- i'm attracted to you, soonyoung. i have been ever since you helped me carry in those boxes last semester."

soonyoung mentally applauded himself for wearing a tank top that day. it was hot, the sun beating down on him. you had been going back and forth from your old office to this one, having been moved. and of course soonyoung had to help, doing all the heavy lifting so you wouldn't have to lift a pretty muscle.

"and i do think of you," you carried on, "i do. i -- it's stupid, it's reckless. but i think of you all the time. i nearly got you a tiger stuffie the other day just because you said they were your favorite animal, but that wouldn't be appropriate for a professor to get their student, would it?"

soonyoung opened his mouth. he would've loved a stuffed tiger from you!

but then you shot him a look, and he obediently quieted back down. "not done talking, soonyoung. as i was saying: i do think of you. i think of you a lot. when you wear those tank tops during class i can't think. and when you smile and your eyes crinkle, or when you get that serious look in your eyes? you're -- you're attractive, soonyoung. i'd have to be a fool to not see that.

"but, as attracted as i am to you, as much of a soft spot i have," you carried on, hands still fidgeting. "i think you might have a false perception of me. i'm -- you've only ever encountered me, been with me, in a professional teacher-student setting. you don't know me, soonyoung, not truly, and not as a person, as an individual."

soonyoung couldn't keep quiet. he took a quick step across the room, into your space, his hands swooping down to yours and holding them. "i want to! that's what dating is for, baby! i get to know you as a person, you get to know me. i learn about your likes and dislikes as a person and you forget about all the stupid grammar errors i made in essays! it's perfect!"

"and i am -- i was -- your professor, soonyoung," you murmured. you didn't take your hands from his, which he took as a positive. you shifted your hands so your fingers were laced with his, thumbs softly rubbing at his skin. "people aren't going to look too favorably on that, soonyoung. what about your parents."

he shrugged. "i'll tell them the truth. i kept my feelings to myself until i graduated from uni. there's nothing wrong with this, professor."

you shot him a look. he retracted, repeating the last sentence softly, tacking on your name at the end. it felt sweet, the taste of your name, felt right for him to use it.

he sighed softly. soonyoung moved closer, letting the tip of his nose pressed against yours. you let out a soft gasp and he couldn't help but smile. "i'm a grown man, y/n. let me get to know you, you get to know me. and then decide. let's have a chance before we throw it all away."

you breathed against him, eyes fluttering shut. he felt you nod against his head, and then you were pressing close, and who was soonyoung to protest? he was a man, weak with love, and so he took you into his arms and pressed his nose to your hairline, breathing you in, soaking in your embrace.

he had dreamed of this for over a year. a year he had kept his feelings away from you, not wanting to plague you with them. it was a burden he kept for a year, not wanting to make you uncomfortable with them.

but now --

soonyoung pulled away. you made a soft little questioning noise, and lifted your eyes to meet his. you were so soft, eyes sweet and mouth parted, pressed to him and, in that moment, his.

soonyoung lifted his hand and cupped the back of your neck, fingertips sinking into your hair. he guided your face to his, and when your lips met he swore it was destiny. for a moment the two of you just stilled, mouths pressed together in an innocent kiss.

but then you murmured his name, and soonyoung was hooked. he began pressing desperate, quick kisses to your lips, each movement of his mouth against yours slick. he kissed you with a year's worth of feelings bubbling over, one arm around your waist and the other on your neck, molding your body to his, letting him own you.

eventually you whimpered, breaking your mouth from his. his eyes caught sight of the string of saliva that connected your lips to his and he couldn't help but chase after it, press another wet kiss to your lower lip and suck.

"soonyoung," you mumbled, lashes fluttering. he continued to press quick kisses to your mouth, never letting up and not letting you speak. your mouth was addicting, he swore. he'd wanted to kiss you for forever, ever since that day you had whipped cream from your hot chocolate still on the bottom of your lip as you taught class, but he'd waited. he'd been a good boy and waited, and now he didn't have to and he wondered if that made the taste of your mouth and spit all the sweeter.

"'m here," he returned, voice just as slow. he pressed another kiss to the corner of your mouth, and then he was trailing his lips over your face. he was mapping out the rise of your cheeks, the slope of your nose with his mouth. "i'm here, baby."

"my name," you argued weakly. both of your hands went to his sleeves, gripping at his t-shirt, and if his dick wasn't interested before it definitely was now. he loved how you held him, as if you were just as desperate as he was, as if you had battled with your feelings this entire time just as much as he had. "say my name, soonyoung. please?"

he whispered your name, letting it tumble from his lips like a prayer. and then soonyoung was chanting it like he was a monk and you were his god, his mouth hot against your skin, reverent, worshiping.

"soon -- soonyoung," you moaned, pulling back. your mouth was red from his kisses, your eyes wide and pupils dilated. you were absolutely gorgeous. "soonyoung, you said you wanted to have fun, yeah?"

and then he was kissing you again, mouth like a storm against yours. he shoved his tongue into your mouth, sliding against yours. his hand went beneath your blouse, hiking it up and allowing him to glide his hand against your skin, grabbing at your stomach and waist. soonyoung walked you back until you were pressed against your desk, and then he detached his mouth from yours.

soonyoung made quick work of your blouse, fingers deftly pushing out the buttons. he let your blouse hang from your shoulders as his hands explored your chest, pressing against your breasts and grabbing at your hips. his mouth traveled to your neck, drawing out a loud gasp from you, and you tilted your head back, allowing him to make a mess of your throat.

he sucked and bit at your neck, marking it as his. he pressed heavy kisses to your skin, his hands quick against your body. your hands went to his shoulders, pulling at him, his name like a blessing as you chanted it.

then soonyoung pulled from you. he lifted you onto your desk, one of his hands forcing your long skirt up and up and up, baring your calves and then your knees and then your beautiful thighs.

"can i take your panties off?" he asked, breathless. he couldn't help but drink in your skin, eyes traveling over your thighs and stomach. "wanna stick my fingers in your cunt, professor."

you whimpered. "my name, soonyoung."

"sorry," he breathed, ducking to attach his mouth to your neck once again. he spoke between every kiss. "let me take your panties off, yeah? i've been dying to fuck you for months, baby. please? i'll be so good for you. promise."

you pressed your eyes shut, and then you were nodding. you lifted yourself off of the desk just enough to allow soonyoung to pull your panties (plain and practical, a pretty lilac cotton) down. he got them off of you and then, unable to help himself, lifted them up to his mouth and breathed.

you squealed, reaching out and smacking his arm. soonyoung ignored you for a moment, letting his eyes slide shut as he breathed in your heady scent. he was surrounded in you, breathing you in and out, your smell like heaven.

"soonyoung!" you protested, reaching for him again. you pulled at his arms and he let you, dropping your panties to the ground. "that's dirty!"

he laughed, helping you back on top of your desk. "i plan to do dirtier things than just smelling your wet panties, baby," he declared. you grinned, embarrassed and enthused at the same time. soonyoung couldn't help but press his mouth to yours again, languidly moving his lips against yours.

while he thoroughly kissed you, his hands went to your thighs. for a few moments all he did was massage your flesh, thumb digging in and fingers splayed. he felt the little hairs of your thighs, dipped his fingers in and brushed against your soft inner thighs. you were soft and plush beneath him, and he quickly found himself addicted to running his hands over your skin, brushing over your small hairs.

you whined at the back of your throat, and then you were opening your thighs for him. you moved your mouth from his with a slick noise, and, with a bashful look, grabbed his hand. soonyoung's breath left him as you guided his hand to your cunt. you gasped as his fingers brushed over your pussy, fingers tightening around his wrist.

soonyoung took over from there. he couldn't help but stare at your cunt, his fingers gently pressing against your cunt. "so fucking pretty," he mumbled, thumb and forefinger gently coming together on your mound and pinching ever-so-slightly. "even down here is pretty, professor."

you let out a small moan. the desk creaked beneath you as you moved back, hands bracing behind you. soonyoung couldn't help but take you in; the way your blouse hung from your torso, the hickies and bites on your neck and collar. you looked, to him, like paradise.

soonyoung went back to your cunt. he dipped his thumb between your lips, sucking in a heavy breath as your warmth trapped him. you were wet, and he couldn't help but bring his thumb up to his mouth and suck at your juices, groaning.

"soonyoung," you hissed. "that's  -- that's dirty!"

he laughed, and tucked his hand back to your cunt. his mouth went to yours, and he kissed you, hoping you could taste yourself on his tongue.

soonyoung's fingers dipped into your pussy. he took his time with your cunt and pleasure, unhurried. he stroked his hand down your cunt, gently pressed his forefingers into your quivering hole. your moans and gasps were music to his ears, and he played you beautifully. when he slipped two of his fingers into your cunt your mouth dropped open, eyes squeezing shut, and he couldn't help but wish he had a phone to take a picture of you.

your cunt was welcoming, eagerly guiding his fingers deeper and deeper, as if they were his cock and you were eager to be bred. he kept his mouth on your skin as he worked his fingers in you, spreading out your walls, gliding in and out, in and out, coaxing more wetness from your cunt.

he avoided your core, that special spot towards the front of your body. soonyoung took care to brush against it, a passing graze of his finger. he wouldn't let you cum, not yet.

"please," you whined after the nth time of him avoiding your core. "please, soonyoung. you're -- you're being mean."

he hummed, ducking his head and pressing his mouth to the top of your bra. "i don't think i am, sweet professor," he returned, voice sweet. "you're being so good for me, baby. whining and moaning, grinding into my hand. is it so bad that i don't want it to end? that i want you to keep fucking my fingers in you, that i want to keep hearing you beg?"

you furrowed your brows, looking up at him. your eyes were slightly wet with pent-up irritation, lips pressed in a firm line. despite your annoyance with soonyoung, when he drew his hands from your cunt your hips followed, eager for him to thrust them back in.

"please," you begged once more, sucking in your bottom lip. "please, soonyoung. i just -- i've waited so long, i want you to fuck me."

like a dog given a treat, soonyoung perked up. he grinned. he shifted his hand inside of you, drawing out a low moan. his thumb moved into your cunt, sliding between your pussy lips. "you've waited so long for me to fuck you," he cooed, voice sickly sweet, "tell me, professor. how long?"

you whined again, but when soonyoung refused to move, you relented. "the -- that day you helped me with the boxes. i felt so guilty, soonyoung. you were my student, and there i was ogling you like you were some -- some treat."

he laughed, using his free hand to brush back some hair that was beginning to stick to your forehead from sweat. "i'm happy you were so captivated by me," he softly murmured, thumb brushing over your lips. "thought i was a treat, did you? a special little treat for a good girl? a delicious little dessert for a little professor."

you shook your head. "no!"

soonyoung chuckled again. he worked his fingers in and out of you slowly, the sound of your juices lewd even to his ears -- but he loved it all the same. "poor little me," he taunted, "the unsuspecting student. just trying to help out my favorite teacher, just trying to be a good boy. and there you were, eyeing me like some piece of candy."

you whimpered. "i didn't -- i wouldn't have done anything."

soonyoung clicked his tongue. he moved his face to yours, pressing his forehead against yours. his breath was hot as he spoke. "you should've," he mumbled, voice low. "should've done something, professor. should've taken me to your office, should've locked the door and told me to fuck you. should've said you would've raised my grade if i fucked you well enough -- i would've done it, too.

"would've fucked you so good," he carried on, his words sinful. "would've fucked you on the floor, would've fucked your cute little cunt so good you would've cried."

he picked up the pace of his fingers thrusting inside of you, unable to keep himself from growing excited at the thought of you taking advantage of him. it never would've happened; you were too logical, too aware of your status above him. you never would've made a move on soonyoung as long as he was your student, and he would bet that if he hadn't come to your office and told you his feelings you would've bottled them up and set them aside, not wanting to burden a former student of yours.

not that you were ever a burden to him.

but, despite knowing all of this, soonyoung's mind continued to conjure up old fantasies, ones that plagued him at horrible moments and made his cock swell. "i thought about fucking you during class, you know. especially when you wore your skirts, professor. thought about pressing you over that desk in the front with everyone watching, jealous that it was me fucking our cute little teacher. would've fucked you so good and made you cry, too."

you let out a dry sob, and when his thumb grinded down on your clit, you came. your cunt tightened around his fingers, gripping them as if they were his cock instead. you fell back against the desk, arms collapsing. soonyoung hurried to wrap an arm around you, his fingers thrusting into you still, working you through your orgasm.

when he finally pulled his hand from your cunt, once you had begun shuddering and whining, his hand was soaked. he splayed his fingers, watching as thick strings of your juices and orgasm traveled, sliding down his fingers.

soonyoung let out a soft groan, and then he sucked his fingers into his mouth. he couldn't help but squeeze his eyes shut at your taste, loving how much you were. your cunt was fragrant, filling the air and his senses, and your taste was so delightfully bitter and sweet that he couldn't help but slide his tongue around his fingers, searching for more and more.

you whined, pulling at his hand. soonyoung opened his eyes, letting his fingers fall from his mouth with a pop. his heart thundered in his chest as you moved his hand to your mouth, pressing them into your warm heat and suckling.

"fuck," he groaned, voice going hoarse. your eyes slid shut as you ran your tongue over his digits, tasting him. "you --"

you pulled his fingers from your mouth. "me what?"

he laughed, and then his hands were on your body again. he maneuvered you roughly, pulling you off of the desk and before him. soonyoung turned you around, and with one hand began pressing at your back, guiding you to lay your front along your desk. with his other hand -- the one you had had in your mouth -- he pulled at your skirt again, bunching the fabric around your middle.

"gonna fuck you hard," he rambled, mind unfiltered at the repeating image of you sucking on his fingers. "gonna fuck you into the desk, gonna make you fucking cry, professor."

you whined, and then you were pressing your ass back to him. he couldn't help but pinch at the plumpness before him, drawing out a startled shriek from your mouth. soonyoung held your waist with one hand while he scrambled at his pants and underwear with his other hand. once his dick was free, red and angry from neglect, he used his other hand to guide it into your warm, drenched cunt.

soonyoung hissed as the tip of his cock caught against your hole, biting down onto his lip. he was going to fuck you. "can't believe i'm gonna shove my cock into your pussy," he murmured aimlessly, his words without any true intent (despite what that, his filthy words had your cunt fluttering and clenching, heart hammering). "fucking dreamed of this, baby. now i getta fuck your cute cunt, get to fucking breed you --"

his cock slowly pushes into you, and soonyoung thinks he's in heaven. he has to be. your warmth surrounds him, so tight that he swears he can't breathe. soonyoung continues to push into you as he rambles on and on, one of his hands on your hip while the other slides into your hair, twisting it around his fingers.

"fucking feels so good, baby," he breathed, biting down on his lip. "clenching around my dick like you wanna be bred. is that it? my little professor wants to be bred by their student? be fucked over a desk by a student. gonna own your cunt, professor, gonna fuck it and cream all over it and make it mine."

you sobbed, and then he was sliding all the way in. it felt so good, felt like heaven was in your cunt. you were warm and tight, and when he gave a little thrust into you your pussy clenched around him.

he pushed your body against the desk as he slowly dragged his cock out of your pussy. "fuck, baby. my cock is drenched in your juices. got my cock all wet like a good little professor, babe."

"soon --" you began, but then he fucked into you roughly, breaking you off. you moaned loudly, hands scrambling against your desk. you knocked over a mug of pens and markers -- a mug he recognized as one another student got you for your birthday.

a surge of heat rushed through him. it wasn't the heat he got from watching you teach, from watching your ass as you moved back and forth in front of the board. it was the heat he got watching that student present that mug to you like it was a fucking diamond ring or some shit.

soonyoung gritted his teeth, and then he was laying on top of you, pressing you against the desk. you sobbed at the shift in position, his dick thrusting into you sharply. soonyoung bit at your shoulder, voice muffled as he spoke into your skin. "wonder what the other students would think," he said, "seeing me mount you and breed you. seeing me fuck you into your desk, seeing you cry for my cock all desperate."

"soonyoung," you whined, turning your face. you had a tear caught on your lashes, lips red from where you had bitten at them. you were beautiful. you were perfect. "don't want 'em to see me," you babbled, "want only you."

a flush of pride traveled through him. soonyoung grinned, and he lifted himself off of you. both of his hands went to your hips, and then he was practically impaling you on his cock, shoving into you so roughly that the desk began rattling.

"that's fucking right," he hissed. your ass bounced from every thrust, the slap of his thighs against your ass beautiful. "only i getta see you like this, only i getta fuck your tight little pussy, professor. getta see you cry for my cock."

soonyoung reached down, feeling along your cunt where his cock fed into you. he slipped his fingers along your pussy until he was brushing along your clit. you cried out as he began roughly pressing at your clit, working furiously at you, demanding your release.

"fuck me," you sobbed, burying your face into your desk. "fuck me, soonyoung, fuck me, fuck me --"

soonyoung cursed, and then he was slipping out of your pussy. with rough hands he turned you back around, your knees on either side of him, chest heaving. soonyoung couldn't help but watch your breasts as you breathed heavily, watched them move. he rubbed at his dick, absolutely soaked and glistening with your pussy juices, drinking in the feast that was you.

he came on your body, long, thick spurts of spunk. you cried out softly as he painted you with his cream, covering your stomach and breasts.

soonyoung let his dick flop once he was done, and then he was moving you once again. he grabbed your knees and forced them up, so your cunt was visible to him. soonyoung couldn't help but whisper another curse at the sight of your drenched pussy.

and then he was diving in, his mouth slopping along your cunt. he moaned at the taste of your juices, sucking them in and drinking you like a parched man. soonyoung slurped at your clit, inhaling harshly as he licked along it feverishly, your taste a dessert he'd never give up.

soonyoung's tongue found your clit, and then he was lapping at it eagerly. you were moaning loudly, and when he pulled away to slap his hand over your clit your entire body shivered, legs going tight around his head.

soonyoung focused on your clit and pussy. he lapped at it, drank at it; he slapped your pussy, the sting countered by his eager tongue.

when you came you sobbed, legs tight around his head. he ate you through it, his heart swelling with warmth as your cunt gushed around him, juices staining his skin.

you chanted his name between sobs, and soonyoung wished he had his phone out so he could record it and set it as his ringtone.

when he finally pulled away, you were whining. tears stained your face, and you looked thoroughly debauched. you reached out for him all the same, and soonyoung took you into his arms gladly.

he lowered himself to the floor, happy to keep you on his lap. you curled into him, tucking your face into his neck. both of you were clothed, but no amount of clothes could conceal your dirty acts. your stomach was painted from his spunk, your blouse hanging around your elbows. your skirt was bunched around your middle, and the longer you sat on his lap the more of your juices and his cum leaked down onto his pants, dirtying them further.

the two of you were a mess. his hair was sticking to his face, and his fingers smelled like cunt. your neck was decorated in severe bites and hickeys, and your eyes were red from your tears.

but still, soonyoung couldn't help but think it was perfect.

[searchingsomewhere]

Self Control

Zayne × Reader

A little something based off my LADS Headcannons. I think I'll do one for each of the guys, what do yall think?👀

- Nero

Cw: smut. Choking, office sex.

Moonlight shines through the window brightly, casting the room in a shimmering blue light. Its a small room, something of an office, with papers scattered around the once neat desk. The after hours silence of the empty hospital is only broken by the faintest of gasps.

You know the hospital was empty, because you were supposed to leave hours ago. But there you are, eyes screwed shut, biting your lip to keep quiet just in case a stray janitor is still roaming about. Zayne sits below you, breathing heavily. His hands grip your hips tightly, dragging your clothed cunt across his hardened length. Your blouse is unbuttoned, breasts heaving with every breath and your skin flush from his mouth.

It was wrong.

Inappropriate.

Zayne knew it. Not only were you his patient, but his childhood friend. For years, he averted his green eyed gaze from your form, too shy to ever treat you as anything more than that. Friends don't want each other the way he wants you. Don't fist their cock to orgasm every night thinking of you. So when you came to his office that night to ask about upcoming appointments, the last thing he expected was to have you in his lap. His self control is slipping by the second.

You put your hands against his chest to grind your hips against him. The newfound pressure shocks you through your core. A high pitched moan escapes you and you look away from his dark gaze. You're steadily climbing that high, growing closer and closer to the edge, but it isn't enough.

"Z-Zayne," You whine, "I- Please, I need you so bad."

His deep chuckle vibrates his chest. "Be specific. Tell me what you need."

His hands slow your hips, tearing away that glorious friction that makes your thighs feel like jelly. You whimper pathetically.

"I- I need..." Your voice trails off, embarrassed. You can't look at him. Instead you look off to the side.

"What was that? Speak up," he says. His hands wander up your skirt. Your panties are soaked through. You jump as his fingers begin tracing circles over your clit.

"I need...your cock. Please," Your voice is stronger this time, desperate.

The way his eyes darken goes straight to your aching core.

"Once we start, darling..." he says, low, "I don't think I'll be able to stop."

"I don't want you to stop," you beg, "I just want you inside me."

The small piece of self control he has shatters. He hooks his arms under your thighs, lifting you off his lap to stand. You yelp in surprise, clinging to his neck until he lays you down on his desk. A small voice tells him there's paperwork there that needs to be moved. A bigger voice tells him to forget about the fucking paperwork.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him rip his belt from his slacks. By god are you a sight to see. Pupils blown wide with lust, red lips bitten and swollen from his mouth. The moonlight catches the curves of your breasts, the way your skirt is rucked up around your hips. Your mouth parts, watering at the sight of his cock as he pulls it from his pants. It's rock hard, girthy in his hand as he pumps his shaft to the sight of you alone. A low moan leaves his lips. You spread your legs as an invitation.

Zayne pulls your panties to the side. Your pussy is a marvel. Glistening in the moonlight, a work of anatomical art in it's folds and curves. The sight alone has him nearly finishing in his hand. Instead he taps your cunt with the head of his cock. Both of you moan. You throw your head back as he slides himself against you, lubricating his head with your essence.

When he finally presses his cock into you, your mind short circuits.

"Oh- Oh fuck," You manage. Your fingers instinctively go to your clit, circling it madly. He's so big and filling you up so good.

He bottoms out, eyes screwed shut. You squeeze him so well, your body molding to him perfectly. He opens his eyes as you pull his faced to yours, moaning into his mouth as he begins to thrust into you. It takes everything in him to go slow. He didn't know if you could handle him fucking you like he wanted to.

"H-harder," You beg.

He snaps his hips to yours and you nearly cry out. The pang of pleasure is sharp, jolting through you just the way you want. You urge him on with breathless affirmations, yes yes yes just like thatpleasegod-

"You feel so good," His hand sneaks up to grab your throat and your eyes roll back. You're moaning his name and his grip only tightens, hips pistoning faster and faster into you. "So...fuck...so good."

You hear a creaking sound- the desk is moving in time to his thrusts. Papers shift around you and flutter to the floor. Your moans get louder and you fumble around, grasping for anything to hold on to.

"Please make me cum, please," you beg.

Almost there, almost therealmostthere-

Your wet pussy clenches around him. That coil springing tight in your stomach unfurls. White streaks across your vision. You arch your back, obscenities spilling out of your mouth. Zayne is panting your name, hips hammering his cock into your cunt.

Your breasts bounce in time to his thrusts- he leans down to suckle your nipple, ears full of your moans. It's music to his soul.

"I- So close-" he grunts, pulling your head up to press his forehead against yours.

You're fucked out of your mind. The new position has the angry, fat tip of his cock is hitting that sensitive spot deep inside you so good, so good. Your orgasm is quickly building again.

"Cumming, I'm cumming!" You sob, throwing your head back.

Zayne pulls out, pumping his cock in his hand. Ragged moans leave his lips and he tilts his head, eyebrows screwing up in pleasure. Thick ropes of cum spurt out his tip, soaking your stomach.

You both still, breathing heavily. Zayne runs his hand through his hair, pushing dark locks from his sweaty forehead. His face is flushed red. He seems so embarrassed now, as if he hadn't just fucked you senseless. You reach for him, grinning, and he helps you sit up fully on the desk. You wrap your arms around his shoulders.

"So," You pant, a lopsided smile on your lips, "When was my next appointment, again?"

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 5. Pony

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Summary: You and Joel decide to keep things under wraps. Murphy's Law has something to say about that...

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Car Sex, Improper use of Tesla autopilot (please, for the love of god, don't use it for something like sex!), Sexting through Slack (Don't do this either!), No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 3.5K

A/N: A shorter one today, I was feeling under the weather for a good portion of last week and wasn't able to really add more to the plot with my medicated brain fog. Hope the smut makes up for it! Sugar is finally feeling more confident and sexy, and we are here for it! Hope you all enjoy!

"Fuck baby, it's only 7:30 in the morning," Joel pants, grabbing onto your hips as you grind harshly against him, your head thrown back in pleasure. You were on him the moment he stepped into the driver's seat, thighs straddling his. He presses open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat as you pull on his curls. “You have no fucking idea just how much I’ve thought about this, Sugar.”

“Oh, I have an idea, it’s written on that list of yours,” you tease, nibbling on the shell of his ear. "I thought we could try out that autopilot feature. You know, for science," you breathe, pushing the fabric of your skirt higher. "I was thinking that this Tesla is due for a christening." You activate full self-driving mode and set the destination to the office, Joel hurriedly unbuttoning your silk blouse, and exposing your bra. His calloused fingertips graze the low-cut lace edge of your demi-cup. "Baby-"

"Do you like it?" you smirk, pushing your breasts further into his grasp, his large hands greedily cupping them. “I saw you looking at them on the mannequin, thought I would model them for you-“

“What happened to my sweet little Sugar?” Joel murmurs as he suddenly grasps your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. “You get a taste of my cock and now you’re desperate for it, huh?”

Joel looks intently at the autopilot GPS, the screen showing that they are approximately 10 minutes away from the office. “Do you think you can make yourself cum before we get there? He pushes your skirt higher, his gaze caught at the glistening spot of wetness on your panties. “Shit, so fucking wet for me.” He hurriedly unzips his jeans, his cock already standing at full attention. He pushes your panties aside, his fingers slowly grazing your slit. “Fuck baby, you gonna let me bless this car? I swear if I don’t get inside you soon I’ll fucking die-“

You notch his tip against your entrance. “We don’t want that now do we?” You whisper, giggling at how ridiculous and desperate you must be sounding. You slowly lower yourself as you grasp at the backrest, Joel’s gaze fixated on how your pussy lips start to slowly take in his cock. “Fuck Joel, you’re so fucking big, I don’t think-“

“Don’t think, baby, just… FUCK!” He shouts as you grasp on his shoulders, fully sheathing yourself to the hilt. His hands grip your hips as you start to grind on him. “Shit, just hold still baby, if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum-“

“Isn’t that what you want?” You pant, bouncing up and down on his length. “We only have 8 minutes left, clocks ticking old man-“ he suddenly thrusts up against you as you scream, pushing the cups of your bra below your breasts. He takes a nipple between his teeth, the flat of his tongue soothing the sting. “Oh fuck!” You shout, arching your back towards his mouth, wanting more.  

You had long fantasized that being intimate with Joel —the man your heart had been hung up on for years—would undoubtedly be the most incredible experience of your life.

This was something else entirely.

“Tell me, baby, how does it feel having an old man sucking on your tits like this?” His thumb goes to your clit, his calloused skin hitting that bundle of nerves just right. “Only I know how to make you squirm like this huh?” He pinches it for good measure and you swear you could come from just that alone. “Tell me baby, who does this pussy belong to?” He says against your breast, hollowing his mouth as he sucks another love bite onto your skin.

“Fuck mark me, Joel, show everyone in the office who I belong to,” you murmur as you start to shake, the feeling of your impending release spreading throughout your body like wildfire. 

“Oh baby you’re so close, I feel you squeezing me so damn tight!” He slams your hips against his as he starts to fuck you in earnest, barely hanging on as you bounce on him like a ragdoll. Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, all teeth and tongue, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pounds into you with reckless abandon. “Are you gonna cum for me?“ he groans as you completely lose yourself, the car reversing into a stall as you try to catch your breath. "Fuck Joel, I-" you struggle to formulate words as your body comes crashing down, the feeling so delicious it renders you speechless.

"I know, baby, I know," he soothes, "You were amazing," Joel breathes as he leans back, gently cradling your exhausted body against his.

“What about you?” You ask against his throat, lifting your hips. “Let me help you-“

Joel gives you a quick peck on your lips, helping you situate on the passenger seat as he quickly settles himself, zipping up his jeans. "Don't worry about me, Sugar. Ran outta time-"

"... but you're the boss, silly," you tease, reaching over to cup his erection.

Joel groans, swatting your hand away. "As much as I am very tempted, I have an early Zoom meeting with The H Group. Tess will have me by the balls if I don't show up on time." He cups your cheek, his thumb soothing the skin beneath it. "It's still early, why don't you grab something to eat? He slides you his black Amex. "Go crazy, maybe stop by the mall and grab you a little treat?"

"I might as well head in myself, I wasn't able to run reports since Tess decided we should drink ourselves silly yesterday." you smile, smoothing out your skirt. You turn and give Joel a little smirk. "It's a shame you weren't able to come, I always wondered what it would feel like to have your cum leaking out of me as I sit at my desk today..."

"Is that so?" Joel purrs, capturing your lips in a lingering kiss. "Are you gonna walk in with me, or do you want to keep this between us?" he asks, his expression serious. "As much as I am ready to scream from the rooftops that you're finally mine, I understand if you want to keep it under wraps-"

"... and suffer Connie's inevitable interrogation?" you groan, checking your reflection in the mirror. "I think I would like to keep you to myself for just a little bit longer if that's okay."

"It's more than okay, baby. Let's take it one step at a time." He smiles, opening the car door. "Meet me for lunch later? Maybe we can take a longer one, you know, maybe finish what we started?" he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

You give him one last kiss, chuckling as he grabs your ass. "Go, before Tess goes on a manhunt!" you tease. Joel kisses your forehead. "I love you, baby girl."  

You beam at him as he gives you a wink. "I love you, too, Joel."

"So, who's the guy?" Connie whispers, leaning towards you, absentmindedly stirring her coffee in the employee lounge.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you deadpan, attempting to make your way out of the room before she could corner you. Her arm reaches across the doorframe, a knowing smile plastered on her face.

"Oh, stop playing coy, Sugar. It's written all over your neck!" Connie quips, motioning for you to take a look at the mirror beside you. Your eyes widen in shock at the sight of the numerous hickeys Joel has unknowingly left on your skin. Shades of red and purple adorn your neck like an unintentional pattern, a clear testament to the passionate night you shared. You blush at the sight as Connie sips from her coffee cup, motioning for you to take a seat at the nearest table.

Connie leans back into the plush seat, smirking at you. "So, spill. Who is it?"

"Whatever happened to 'a lady doesn't kiss and tell'?" you reply, crossing your arms. "I don't see how my love life is any of your business-"

Connie scoffs. "What are you, 50? Come on! We're all sluts here!" she exclaims, her eyes widening as she notices Joel walking into the room, clearing her throat. "Good Morning, Mr. Miller!" she says in a syrupy-sweet voice, her body turning in his direction.  

Joel nods towards the both of you, a small knowing smirk at the corner of his mouth. "Good Morning ladies," he murmurs, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Anything interesting going on with you guys lately?"

"Well, apparently, Sugar got herself a boyfriend!" Connie teases, "She looks like she got eaten alive by the state of her poor neck!"

You shoot Connie a playful glare, while Joel raises an eyebrow in amusement.

"Well," he says, throwing a wink your way, "he must be quite a guy if he managed to convince Sugar to give him a chance." He grabs his iPad, giving both of you a nod as he heads towards the door. "Sugar, think you could swing by my office after my first meeting? I need some... troubleshooting," he says with a pointed look, "and I need it sorted before lunch. Can you handle that for me?"

You try not to blush under his heated gaze, aware of Connie looking at the both of you with her mouth agape. Keep it professional, you tell yourself.

"Uh- Sure, Joel. Just send me a Slack when you're just about done with your meeting, and I'll... head on over," you say weakly, attempting to maintain composure.

"Oh, I sure will," he says with a wide grin. "Ladies," he says once more, Connie whistling as she watches him leave.

"What I would do to have a piece of that," she exclaims, giving you a wink. "It's a damn shame that he's pretty much a monk-"

"A monk?" you quip, raising an eyebrow in confusion. "What makes you think that?"

"I've been working here for the last five years, right?" she half-whispers, leaning towards you. "... and I've seen some things, you know? I know exactly who is banging who in this office, nothing and no one is safe from me, okay?" she smirks, "Joel, on the other hand? now that's someone I can't figure out. No ring on his finger, no photos of anyone except his family on his desk, no plus one at the galas and family days the company throws," she muses, "a fine specimen like him not tied down at his age? He either has a secret sugar baby or moonlights as a monk. There is no way a man like him goes without for that long," she sighs, stirring her coffee. "I'm beginning to think he's celibate. Anyway, about your mystery man-"

"Sugar?" Tess suddenly interjects, her head popping up through the doorway. "The engineers are having a hard time accessing the server from the site, do you think you could head over and troubleshoot?"

"Sure!" you exclaim a little too excitedly, gathering your things, thankful for the interruption. "Let me just grab a few things from my office and I'll head on over!" 

"Sugar, wait, we aren't done yet-" Connie stammers, standing from her seat.

"...aren't you supposed to be manning the phones, Connie?" Tess interrupts her, a pointed look in her eyes, as you swiftly exit the room. You mutter a hasty "thanks" to Tess while squeezing past her.

"Now, Connie!" you hear Tess yell from down the hall, chuckling to yourself. Serves her right, you think. You run to your office, sending Joel a quick message through Slack:

Sugar (IT) Tess is sending me on-site, I might not be back before lunch. Maybe I could pop-in a little later? Let me know, ok?

You quickly pocket your phone, grab your purse, and hurriedly make your way out the door, giving Connie a semblance of a wave before she has the chance to stop you.

Later, as you kick yourself for taking longer on-site than you intended, you forgo your lunch break. Opting to make it back to the office as soon as possible and back into Joel's arms, you don't want to think about how the subcontractors talked over you and didn't take you seriously at all, their constant hollering and cat-calls make you want to gouge your eyes out. You sigh as you slam your car door, dragging your feet back towards the office. This day can't get any worse, right?

Connie leans in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as you stroll into the office. Her hand cups her mouth as she shares the latest gossip with Jesse in Engineering.

"Have you heard? Apparently, Joel is getting cozy with someone in the company," she discloses, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Did you catch that Slack message? Wow, what a lucky girl—"

"Or lucky guy," Jesse interjects with a smirk. "'Baby' could be anyone."

Connie turns her attention to you, a playful grin on her face. "Hey Sugar, what's your take? I'm thinking Joel is packing an 8-incher—"

Your eyes widen, and you interrupt in a huff, trying to hide your embarrassment. "What are you even talking about?"

"The Slack message! The admin channel is blowing up!" Connie exclaims. 

"Don't tell me you missed it on your phone? I haven't seen this many replies since Tommy accidentally sent a dick pic last year. Didn't think Joel had it in him—"

Panic sets in as you pull out your phone, unlocking it to find hundreds of Slack notifications. Your eyes widen in shock. "OH MY GOD!"

#MCG ADMIN 50 members Joel Hi baby, someone's missing you today ;P 0003.png - image sent to #MCG ADMIN He's been waiting for your sweet pie, why don't you head on over here and warm him up... Baby? Playing coy with me now  Don't be shy... Tommy JOEL?   WRONG CHANNEL WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? (I mean, got damn but WTF) Connie (Reception) OH. MR. MILLER YOU DOG YOU 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆 Frank (Interior Design) Well.   Ain't that something. Huh. Wow. WOW. 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆 Bill (Civil) FRANK! Eugene (Electrical) Well. That's a fine piece 🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆🍆 you have there, brother. Sarah (HR) DAD?? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? THANK GOD ELLIE IS NOT ON THIS CHANNEL! Could you please do yourself a favor and delete that? I'm just going to keep messaging  Guys, please disregard Joel's messages. I would like to remind you that sending images of this nature is prohibited and NOT acceptable. Oh my GOD. Tommy Sugar? can you please delete these messages? SUGAR? Why are you not replying?   Hello?? Tess Shit. I sent her off-site because the engineers were having issues. FUCK. Sarah? Do you know her computer login by chance? Maybe we could delete it from her computer.

"Oh, shit," you exclaim, hastily shoving your phone into your purse. You make a beeline for your office, slamming the door shut behind you. Leaning against the door, you slide down to the floor, your heart pounding in your chest.

"What the hell, Joel? How can you be so careless?" you whisper in frustration, closing your eyes as you try to collect yourself. 

You bring your phone up once more, scrolling through the hundreds of messages in the admin slack channel. "First things first," you mutter yourself, you click on the photo in question. It's a mirror selfie, Joel's jeans pushed down his thighs, his prominent bulge standing at full attention. He's pursing his lips, looking at the mirror, his eyes full of want and lust. "Holy shit Joel," you breathe, your breath caught in your throat at the sight.  Is the air off?  

Right. You need to delete this.

You hover over the trash icon, the notifications still popping up in the background, so much so that you don't bother to dismiss them.  

Connie (Reception) Has Christmas come early for us all? 🍆🍆🍆🍆 Who is the lucky girl? (Is it me? am I that girl?) Sarah (IT) That's enough, Connie.   Has Sugar come in yet?   Connie (Reception) Yep.   She's in shock. Ran into her office. I bet you're drooling over that pic, huh Sugar?  I know you want a piece of that fine ASS  Do us a favor and don't delete it. Sarah (IT) Connie. Stop.  Sugar, please delete the picture.

You hover over the photo. Before you can lose your nerve, you click on the download button. It's not like it's wrong, he is your boyfriend? lover? after all.  

[Photo 0003.png has been deleted by the system admin.] Connie (Reception) OH COME ON! Tommy THANK FUCK Tess  Connie, I'm going to need you to come to my office.   NOW. Jesse (Engineering) Well, that's all she wrote, everyone! Whoops Connie, that's what happens when you fuck around and find out, it's off to the principal's office for you! Sugar (IT) The photo has been deleted and all messages concerning this issue have been logged and sent to Tess and Sarah for review. You guys should be ashamed of yourselves. Tess Sugar, I'm going to need admin access to the channel just so we can prevent further inappropriate photos and messages from being sent.  Frank (Interior Design) Oh, come on Sugar. I know you took a peek. It's okay, it's a safe space here at Miller Construction Group... I know I definitely looked. (Sorry Bill) Bill (Civil) FRANK! Leave the poor girl alone. Thank you for your service, Sugar. Don't you all have work to do? Connie (Reception) OH COME ON SUGAR. DON'T BE LIKE THAT! (Is it you? you can tell me, girl. Is that why you had all of those hickeys? We're all friends here.) Tess CONNIE. NOW.

You scramble to your desk, pulling up Slack as you hover over to the direct message tab, looking for Joel.  

Direct Message to J.Miller Sugar (IT) Joel? Are you ok? Joel Uh... Sugar (IT) Joel, what were you thinking? Joel  I was thinking about you. Fuck. I messed up, baby.  I wasn't thinking and I was so fucking horny... and now I got Connie sending me nudes. Sugar (IT) I wouldn't be surprised if it's your new contact photo on her phone. Joel So, what did you think of it?

You take a look at the photo again, the mere sight of his cock making your mouth water and your panties wet. Granted, the grainy photo has nothing on seeing his dick in person, but you can see the appeal to it. Joel has a fantastic cock, and what's better is that it's all yours. If the office wasn't on high alert right now, what's to stop you from strolling into his office and mounting his dick, taking everything that he's got? You get goosebumps just thinking about it. Even if it's been a few days since you lost your virginity to the man you've been obsessing over for a good portion of the last decade, you just can't seem to get enough.  Is that what desire is like? you think to yourself, shifting in your seat and rubbing your thighs in a weak attempt at relief. It's not like you're about to touch yourself...

My door is closed, normal people would knock, right?

Poor Joel, you think. All he wanted was to show you how excited he was, and now the good majority of his employees know just how well-endowed their boss was. It's embarrassing, no matter how good this man looked. 

I should make it up to him. 

You take a look at the La Perla bra that you have on under your blouse, the purple lace demi cut barely covering your breasts, just the way Joel likes it, you muse, chuckling to yourself. Taking one last look at your closed office door, you angle yourself just right, enough for your nipple to graze the edge of the lace. You bite your bottom lip, taking a few snaps to make sure you get it just right. 

Taking a deep breath, you look at the photos.

Damn. I look... hot? Sexy, even?

With a shaky hand, you go back to the thread, pulling up the upload photo option and clicking on what you think is the most flattering photo, trying not to be weirded out looking at half-naked photos of yourself.  Yeah. This will do.

Sugar (IT) Are you busy right now? 0345.png photo sent to #mcg-admin  I'm so wet for you, Daddy.

Wait.  Your eyes take a look at the thread, your eyes widening when you realize that you didn't go back to the direct messages but back to #mcg-admin.  HOLY-

Frank (Interior Design) WELL DAMN, SUGAR. Are we all just sending illicit photos of ourselves now?   Should I drop my pants and join in on the fun? Eugene (Electrical) GOT DAMN. NOW THATS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT WHO KNEW THAT YOU WERE HIDING ALL THAT??! Jesse (Engineering) HOLY SHIT WOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW Bill (Civil) FRANK! Sarah (HR) WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE? [Photo 0345.png has been deleted by Sugar (IT)]

Well, you think to yourself. So much for keeping things a secret.

Direct Message to Sugar (IT) Joel Baby, I think they know. Sugar (IT) YOU THINK??

Taglist:@sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa, @laurrrra, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

[e-hibiscus]

Pairing: Arlecchino x Afab!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, transfem Arlecchino, overstimulation

Author’s Note: Repost | forgive me, it’s bad| not proofread

NSFW UNDER THE CUT | Minors DNI!

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Arlecchino smirks as she leans back on her chair, she enjoys having you beside her as it lets her multitask on other things. She looks up at you, always loving it when you speak tenderly as it shows a certain vulnerability that’s not typical of her encounters being a part of the Fatui. After all, you’ve always been such a sweet and caring wife for her.

Leaning back on her seat she could listen to the sweet sound of your voice all evening, her face expressionless as she waits for you to finish telling her about your day and other ‘trivial’ things. Her eyes followed the woman's every move, she always noticed how you would occasionally brush her bangs to the side when they became too much of an annoyance.

Her voice was stern, but she had other intentions in mind. Arlecchino's eyes narrowed as she suddenly leaned close to you, and a sly smirk crept into her face. “Come here.”

Arlecchino smirked as she watched you approach her. The way the Knave’s eyes ate you up, your entire face heats up from realizing what’s to come as her fingers dance along your hips.

Her voice is stern as she has other intentions in mind for you. Arlecchino's eyes narrow as she suddenly leans in close. Right next to your ear as she spoke. “Get on the table. Now.”

Her tone was demanding. You know what will happen next.

“My love, we shouldn’t be doing this where someone can come in it would be indecent.”

The woman’s gaze softens fondly at the term of endearment, however, Arlecchino will get what she wants, one way or another. “I will not repeat myself.”

The harbinger’s eyes venture down from your lips, moving further down, whispering, "I don't care if someone walks in, you. Right now, there’s nothing but you and me at this moment."

Her hand slowly ran along the sides of your body as her other hand began to unbutton your blouse. You aren’t one to deny things for your beloved, and even now you allow Alecchino to go about as she pleases.

Arlecchino continued to unbutton you's blouse with each button being undone, one after the other. The Knave's hands were now resting on your body. You can feel how her hands explore your curves before squeezing your ass affectionately.

“Do your best to stay quiet though dearest. I have a couple of hours to fuck you well and deep.” At the mention of it, that warm feeling shot straight to your core.

Arlecchino had quickly spun and pressed you down on her desk. It felt cold on your front as you were pressed against the wooden surface of her desk. The papers shift along the top, some things clattering onto the floor, making a mess which will be a future issue that can be addressed after Arlecchino has her fill of her wife.

One hand kneaded your chest, playing with the hardening bud as Arlecchino’s mouth kissed the nape of your neck, gently working you up. The dampening patch in your panties grows as her other hand moves to play with the other bud between your plush thighs.

The Harbinger made quick work of freeing her member from her slacks and boxers after spending adequate time running her hands repeatedly against your folds. Now her leaking tip rubs against your outer lips until she deems you “ready” for her. Arlecchino pushes her cock inside as you do her best to remain quiet. Just how the Knave asked, you obeyed, like the good wifey you are.

Arlecchino's breath quickened as she slowly started to move her body, with each motion she made, she heard you's soft sounds of pleasure. She could tell you’re trying your best to remain quiet but she doesn’t care. She was enjoying how you were clinging to every bit of control in order to listen.

She didn’t make it easy. Arlecchino’s movements were rough and deep. Every piston and thrust made your tight hole quiver. The pistoning against your gummy walls has you gripping the edge of the desk. Stifled moans and grunts echo around the room with the exception of the sound of skin slapping against one another.

Her moaning and cries of pleasure were muffled against your hands. Arlecchino has you begging for release, with a long cry for permission to cum. Feeling your body twitching underneath her, Arlecchino couldn’t help but smirk. Hearing your wonton cries only made her go faster. She loves seeing you fall apart underneath her as you are the most beautiful thing she ever laid her eyes on.

Soon, Arlecchino's hand was pulling on your hair as she said, "You can moan now but don't you dare come yet."

With one particular thrust, Arlecchino hit the sensitive spot inside the other woman. Her efforts were placed to target that one spot that had your back arching into her. The tip of her thick cock abused your gummy walls.

You were doing your best to hold back from cumming right then and there while you continue to beg and plea, moaning and shifting to try and get away though those efforts are fruitless. Arlecchino knew that she had you right where she wanted her and she intended to keep it that way, she loved the feeling of you underneath her like this.

The Knave continued to hit the sensitive spot inside the young woman, her thrusts became rougher as she kept a tight grip on you's hair. Arlecchino's free hand now began to squeeze your breast as the harbinger leaned in closer toward the caregiver's ear. Arlecchino whispered, "You're so close already, just a little longer, my love."

“P-please, I can’t… hol-” You choked out. It’s too much. You came on her cock, clamping down so tightly that Arlecchino’s movements slowed as you tried to milk her dry for this first round.

But her hips don’t stop. They continue to rut against yours, continuing to abuse your sensitive walls with the intention of painting your walls white with her cum. Because you couldn’t follow orders, her punishment will be to take whatever the harbinger is going to give her, even if it means filling you beyond your limits.

Arlecchino smirked as she felt you's body shudder underneath her, she wasn't going to stop until she felt that you were satisfied. Her thrusts became rougher, harder, and deeper. She wanted to cum as much as she could inside of you, the harbinger loves to leave her mark inside.

“Arle-!!! I-i just-“ her words were cut off with a moan. “Fuck~”

A smirk spread across the Knave's face as she felt you moan louder, she wanted to give you as much pleasure as she could. Arlecchino's pace grew erratic as she felt herself closer to release again. The mixture of cum pooling on her desk continues to grow as she continued playing with your sensitive bud

"You're not going anywhere now. This meeting can wait, I want you to enjoy the mess that I left behind a little more."

[nanamis-angel]

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠! ♡︎

♡︎ ৹ Shopping with Nobara is almost like a ritual.

♡︎ ৹ Sure there are those random moments where the two of you are bored out of your minds and have nothing else to do, so she'll suggest the two of you go out.

♡︎ ৹ But when it's planned? You'd better be ready.

♡︎ ৹ She's already picked out the perfect time, outfit, and all the stores she's going to go to. She has a plan and she's going to stick to it.

♡︎ ৹ Get ready, go out, shop, get coffee or another drink, come home. Don't disturb her ritual, it's like therapy to her.

♡︎ ৹ She's a fashion icon, what can I say? She'll spend quite a long time browsing through the same rack of clothing, finding what she likes, doesn't like, the quality, and what she can style with it that she already has. And she's good at it too.

♡︎ ৹ She's great at styling for others too.

♡︎ ৹ "[Name], this blouse would look good on you. It'd look good with your complexion." She'd say, eyeing the fabric intently.

♡︎ ৹ "Thanks but I don't even have anything that'd go with that color."

♡︎ ৹ "Yes you do. The light brown slacks you have hanging up in your closet would look great with this."

♡︎ ৹ And she was right. So yeah, sometimes she knows you better than you do. And she never misses.

♡︎ ৹ Occasionally, she'll drag Yuji along for him to be the designated bag carrier for you two. And he never complains, honestly, he's just happy to be included. And he's learned his lesson from last time to not drop the bags.

♡︎ ৹ And you can totally understand why she wants to be a model because she looks so good in anything and everything she wears. Everything from the color, the style, the shape, she's got it down.

♡︎ ৹ "Remind me how no modeling agency has picked you up yet?"

♡︎ ৹ "I'm just too good for them."

a/n: MY GIRL IS BACK <333 I missed Nobara so much, gege thank you for bringing our queen back. Hope you all enjoyed this silly drabble I threw together quickly.🩷 (hearts divider by @/s-h-o-w-y)

[garfield-mug]

Can I request a Bob blurb? Maybe he has a really hot girlfriend and nobody believes him until they meet her? You can do whatever you want with this!

A/N: for the purposes of this story, the daggers are permanently stationed in san diego. idk if this really fits the request, but i look at bob and immediately think that man can dance, so....

also, the squad gives bob a bit of a hard time in this one, but i promise they love each other lmao and the length of this may have gotten away from me, but i had fun, so it's okay lol and this isn't proofread bc i'm tired so excuse any spelling errors (i'll stop talking now byeee!)

(p.s. see if you can spot the movie reference, 10 bonus points to whoever points it out)

Word Count: 2.2k

Content Warnings: none unless you don't like dancing ;)

Cheek to Cheek

Bob knew he wasn't really a "ladies' man." He was rather quiet and reserved, keeping to himself most of the time. He wasn't cocksure and forward, like Jake. He wasn't a goofy, shameless flirt, like Bradley. He didn't consider himself shy; he wasn't afraid to engage in conversation or make friends. Bob just preferred to sit back and observe. He liked to watch and listen, getting a good read of every room he walked into. Watching and listening was how he noticed you.

You were a sight to behold. Bob reasoned that you had to be new to the club because he would've noticed you before.

Bob doesn't get much downtime, but when he does, he likes to spend it at the San Diego Swing Dance Club. Since he was little, Bob loved to dance. He remembers his mother teaching him a basic waltz when he was about seven. Gliding and twirling around the living room on top of his ma's feet are some of his fondest memories. He started ballroom classes when he was around twelve (he wanted to impress his date to his very first dance) and fell even more in love with the art. His repertoire grew and grew, having meticulously memorized different styles (paso doble was his favorite). He still loved dancing as he grew older, able to turn on the charm as easy as he knew the moves. He loved the way dancing made him feel. Bob never felt more free than when he was drifting about the dancefloor, leading his partner. He thought it was the closest you could get to flying while staying on the ground.

That's why, when he noticed you, he knew he had to have a dance. Thankfully, his regular partner, Julie, understood and agreed to the switch for the night (she was a great wingwoman). For as often as he was in his head, Bob usually never got nervous. He was nervous approaching you. He remembers it like it was yesterday. It was Lindy Hop night and you were wearing grey striped slacks, a white blouse with the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, and an old, beat up pair of white slip-on vans. He was in his usual button down and slacks. One look at you and he knew he was a goner. You looked a bit disheveled, hair haphazardly put up and out of your face, making small talk with a few other members of the group. He thought you looked ever so slightly out of place and that it was so, so endearing.

Eventually, he worked up the courage to ask you for a dance. It did take more than a few pep talks from Julie to get him to go over to you, but she didn't have to literally drag him there, so it was a success. He asked for a dance, holding out his hand. You said yes.

One dance turned into two, then three, and eventually you'd danced the whole night away. You'd exchanged numbers before going home and then you weren't just meeting once a week at the dance club. You were making time to see each other whenever possible. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. It had now been six months since you and Bob made it official and you couldn't be happier.

Now, it made sense with his job and his general personality why the rest of the Dagger Squad hadn't known about you. They'd had conversations about their love lives often, but Bob had never really volunteered much information. You two had a good thing going and he liked to keep good things to himself for a while. Plus, the conversation rarely ever got turned his way. Bob was... very unassuming. The rest of the squad, except for Nat, never really inquired much about Bob's love life. It's not like Bob was purposely keeping you from his friends— it just never really came up. Nat was the only one who knew Bob was seeing someone and she was keeping it close to her chest out of respect for her friend and WSO, but also in the event that it spawned a bet. A bet she would surely win.

Eventually, one evening at the Hard Deck, the Daggers were all discussing their love lives once again. Mickey turned to Bob and asked if he was seeing anyone.

"I am, actually." Bob felt 5 more pairs of eyes snap to him, a collective "what?!" buzzing in the air at their inquisitive looks.

"You're seeing someone?" Jake asked, partially stunned. Bob wasn't offended, he knew he presented as a bit of a wallflower, and he was okay with that.

"What, you jealous, Bagman?" Bradley couldn't help himself. Jake's gaze snapped to the other aviator, challenging. Despite them both being on... better terms after the uranium mission, they still liked to jab at each other. Jake was usually better at it— slow, persistent needling while keeping a calm and collected facade. Bradley was more direct, favoring an immediate reaction over slow buildup.

Before Jake could respond, Bob cut in, turning the focus back to him.

"Matter of fact, I am," He sat a little straighter, dusting his pants of remnants of the peanuts he was snacking on. Natasha took a swig from her beer to hide the sly grin that was threatening to break across her face.

"Romantically? You're seeing someone romantically?" Reuben questioned.

"Sure am." Bob pushed his glasses further up his nose. He was thinking about you and how he wished you'd been able to come out tonight. You had talked to Bob about coming by to meet his friends, but scheduling conflicts always arose.

"What's her name?" Mickey asked.

"What's she look like?" Nat played into it, ignoring the pointed look Bob shot her way. He was still thinking of you, particularly about how darling you looked when you writhed underneath him, but they didn't need to know about that. Instead, Bob refocused, a dreamy smile taking over his features and a rosy blush creeping up his neck, landing on his cheeks. He couldn't help but look at the ground for a few moments, then he relayed your name. It felt so natural falling from his lips. The squad was eager for more information.

"She's just... perfect. She's smart and funny and so, so beautiful. She's got these eyes that just... and her smile?" Bob sighs, he actually sighs.

"I don't buy it." Jake is the first to burst the bubble. "I mean, we ask you what she looks like and all you give us is "oh, her eyes, her smile"? No way," Jake throws back the rest of his drink. Mickey and Reuben nod, signaling their agreement. Natasha smiles devilishly to no one but herself.

"C'mon, Bagman, he's clearly telling the truth. I mean, look at him. He's actually lovesick." Bradley chimes in. He knows what a man in love looks like.

"Yeah, it's kind of disgusting," Javy pipes up, firmly siding with Bradley.

"Well boys," Nat claps Bob on the shoulder. "Looks like we have a bet on our hands." She watches the men around the high-top table, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Hundred dollars in the pot says Bob's mystery girl is real. You in?"

Nat pulls out five twenty dollar bills, placing them in the middle of the table. Bob watches in amusement.

"Steep price, Natty, but I'll bite." Jake throws his wager in as well.

Eventually, everyone put some money in the pot, much to Nat's satisfaction, even if she would have to split the prize money.

"Alright, alright... When and where can we meet your lovely lady?" Jake asks Bob, who is glancing down at his watch.

"Uhh, this Thursday at the San Diego Swing Dance Club. Seven-thirty, sharp. Wear something nice, but comfortable." With that, Bob was throwing on his jacket and out the door, headed home to see you. He wouldn't have left so abruptly, but you'd sent him a text and he wasn't going to keep you waiting.

The Daggers were even more perplexed. Well, all except for Nat, but the rest didn't need to know about it.

"San Diego Swing Dance Club?" Reuben was taken aback. Jake was thoroughly amused.

"Oh I have got to see this now."

-

The week flew by, and eventually it was Thursday evening. You were excited to finally meet Bob's friends, he talked about them so often. You'd be lying if you said you weren't a bit nervous, fretting over your outfit and hair more than usual, not to mention your makeup.

"Babydoll, you'll look beautiful no matter what you choose." Bob had been sitting on your bed for the better part of an hour now, as you agonized over your outfit choice.

You sighed, coming to sit next to him. "I just want to make a good first impression." You rest your head on his shoulder.

"I promise they'll like you no matter what you wear." Bob presses a kiss to your temple. You take a deep breath and close your eyes.

"I'll go with the plaid pants then."

Bob huffs out a laugh, "Alright, baby."

-

The Daggers arrived at seven-thirty, sharp. Just like Bob had told them. Nat sent Bob a text, letting him know that they'd arrived. He excused himself from the group to collect the rest of his friends. He was excited, happy to share one of his passions with the people he called friends. He was also happy to finally introduce his girl to the rest of his friends. Bob made his way over to the rest of the squad, clustered awkwardly by the main entrance of the dance hall.

"Glad you could make it!" Bob pulls Natasha in for a hug and greets the rest of the guys in a similar fashion.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Bobby." Jake says, eyes sweeping the room for a lady to take home for the night. Bradley and Javy were doing the same. Mickey and Reuben had brought partners for the evening— a double date.

The group fell into their usual rhythm, easy conversation and a few friendly jabs here and there. Almost forgetting the reason why they were there. Almost. Jake was just about to bring up the fact that they still had yet to meet Bob's mystery girl, when the intro to Thurston Harris' Little Bitty Pretty One started playing from the bandstand. It was jive night, which just so happened to be your favorite. Scanning the crowd, your eyes found Bob talking with his friends. 'Well, it's now or never,' you thought, and you were beelining towards your boyfriend so you could make it onto the floor for the first dance. Bob was just telling Nat about this new recipe he tried out for dinner when he felt a tug on his arm. He turned to look at you and smiled.

"Bobby c'mon, can't miss the first dance!"

He looked back at his friends, "Be right back," and Bob was off to the dancefloor with you. The Daggers watched as he whisked you away, stepping into a seamless jive. You felt like you were positively flying, floating through the air, feet touching every cloud. The way you and Bob danced together was something special. You could read each other in a way most dance partners wished they could. Feeling the music, keeping in time with the rhythm, anticipating and adapting to every move the other made. Improvisation was the purest form of art, the amount of trust placed in your partner is unlike anything else. You and Bob had something special, there was no denying that, especially as you were twirling across the floor.

"Who knew he could move like that?" Javy had to pick his jaw up off the floor.

"They make it look so effortless," Reuben looked utterly amazed.

Jake had to admit, he was impressed. Game recognizes game and damn it, Bob Floyd had game. It really was always the quiet ones. You were pretty, and you seemed fun. You seemed like you'd be good for Bob, even though they hadn't technically met you yet. Jake couldn't even be mad that he'd lost the bet. What he needed now was to learn how to dance like Bob because apparently, that was a great way to meet a lady. You and Bob were out of breath when you rejoined the group, introductions going a smooth as ever. You like the squad and the squad liked you. By the end of the night, you and Bob had shown everyone how to do a basic jive. Reuben, Mickey, and Javy caught on quickly, feeling comfortable enough to join the people out on the main floor. Bradley and Jake needed... help. Nat was managing, wanting a bit more time to figure the steps out before trying them on the floor.

Before everyone knew it, it was ten o'clock and the band was saying goodnight. You and Bob were saying your goodbyes, ready to head home. Once you and him were out the door, Natasha turned to Bradley and Javy.

"Alright, we split this three ways and make sure to absolutely rub it in Jake's face." Nat divvies up the cash and Bradley and Javy take their cuts. Javy gives a curt nod and a smile before walking to his car.

Bradley turns to Natasha. "Can I walk you to your car?" He offers his arm.

"Sure," Nat smiles and accepts.

[wisedelusionalmarshmallow]

@jegulus-microfic, July 4th - Wings, G, Word Count - 500

Although James' favourite holiday was Christmas, he had a pretty big soft spot for halloween. He loved dressing up and, when he was young, challenging his friends on who can get the most candy. (Marlene almost always won, James was fast but she was fast and cute.)

Even though Regulus didn't like most holidays. (The majority of them excuses for his parents to force him into stuffy suits and participate in family reunions.) The one that evaded this treatment was Halloween, the closest 'favourite' he has. Sure he wasn't allowed to dress up or go trick-or-treating, but Sirius always bought them small boxes of chocolates to eat and they shared ghost stories long into the nights.

So when James proposed that the both of them should wear matching costumes for halloween, Regulus was opposed to it at first. It would feel awkward. I don't have anything to wear. James told him not to worry, and for Regulus to just wear all white.

Which leads to now, Regulus standing outside of James' dorm in white slacks and a sheer white blouse. He feels slightly exposed. He's not used to wearing such a bright colour, but James assured him it was going to be fine.

James comes to the door only moments later, dressed in black head to toe. Black jeans and a black button-up. Regulus instantly feels self-conscious again. "James—"

"You look so good Reggie! Come in, come in. I have the final touches in here." James leaves the door open as he walks further into his room.

Entering James' room, Regulus spots the group of people in here, already getting ready for the Halloween party. Marlene and Peter were wearing blood-splattered suits. Lily was dressed as Strawberry Shortcake and Mary was Orange Blossom. The four of them were sat on Peter's bed as he finished up Lily's makeup.

James reemerges in Regulus' field of view, a big smile on his face as he holds up a halo and a pair of angel wings. "You ready?"

"An angel and devil? How creative James." Regulus states, grabbing the items out of his boyfriend's hands. James laughs as he puts on his own set of accessories, a pair of devil horns and a spiked tail.

"Come on Regulus! You're gonna look so good!" Marlene shouts. She was always high-energy and positive. It scared Regulus the first time he heard how loud she could be.

He slides his arms into the wings and places the halo on his head. Facing James again, he lets out a sigh. "Well?"

James just stares at him for a moment. "You're so hot, you know?" He walks over and holds Regulus' waist. Regulus scoffs with a smile, trying to hide his amusement. "I mean it, mi ángel."

If Regulus wasn't flustered before, he sure is now. "Shut up."

Looking around the room, the both of them see that everyone else is ready to go. Of course, Marlene is the first one to voice such. "Who's ready to party?!"

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Bro all your fics have taken up any open space in my heart 💛 if possible, I would love to see a doting husband Bruce and reader’s first date?

"Going out this evening, Sir?" Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dinner date- sort of," Bruce said, fumbling with his cufflink.

"Business or Pleasure?" Alfred asked, holding his hands out impatiently. He'd never outright ask if Bruce needed help tying his shoe too, but. Bruce heard him anyway and chuckled, holding his arm out ruefully.

"Both if I'm lucky."

"Still living dangerously I see."

"Always," Bruce snorted.

_______________

When you approached the table, being lead there by the owner personally, Bruce stood. A curious hitch in his lungs making it hard to breathe.

Any other time he'd seen you, you'd been all business. All dark skirts or slacks and sensible blouses. Things that had probably been bought off clearance racks- Not that there was anything wrong with that.

But tonight, you looked... different. The French blue of your dress and the simple jewelry- the way your hair framed your face instead of being bound back- It made his heart twist in the sweetest way. You were the least expensively dressed person in the room but no one else looked as good as you did.

And he decided, as he watched you that it was your presence. You walked in like you belonged there. Like you had already proven what you needed to prove and you didn't care what anyone else had to say about it.

It made him wonder if- outside the office you might be a little more susceptible to him being charming. So, when you extended your hand with a smile; instead of the handshake you'd expected, he took your hand and kissed it. The lightest brush of his lips against your skin.

"Mr. Wayne-"

"Bruce," he corrected, "my friends call me Bruce."

"Is that what we are?" you ask. And there's a look in your eyes. A glimmer of something that makes it hard to tell if you're teasing him.

"I'd like to think so," he said, surrendering your hand and pulling out your chair. "We've certainly spent enough time together the last few weeks."

"Being my friend is dangerous-"

Bruce grinned, "I think I can handle it."

"Won't your board have something to say about it?"

"Not as long as I hold the majority of the company and my name is on the building," he said signaling for drinks to be brought as he pushed in your chair before resuming his seat. "Now... how does a kid from sticks go from a fast track to partner to legal aid?"

You give him a wry smile, "It's not really much of a story, honestly, compared to everyone else here my life is probably pretty... boring."

Bruce leaned on his hand, settling in "If I have to hear one more blowhard talk about their handicap in golf I'll tear my hair out," he chuckled, "Nothing is more boring than that-"

"You don't golf?" you ask innocently. Trying to deter him. To get him talking about himself.

"Not unless I have to," he answered. "Now- tell me everything. And don't leave anything out."

[yourlocaldisneyvillain]

...the dawn of ♥ kink!week ♥ is upon us...

(don't know what kink week is? click here!)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

∼ those faint of heart, look away and shield thine eyes — miserable sinners, prepare; for we have entered the unholy week ∼

∼ day one brings us our beloved metallic lady ♥ Jane Murdstone ♥ ∼

∼ tags and the fic are under the cut ∼

♥ i've worked very hard on this series — it was a huge project to undertake and i would very much appreciate if you left me comments with your thoughts and impressions — you already know they make my heart sing ♥ (AO3 link — i prefer it to tumblr vastly)

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

tags: #alternate universe - modern setting #dominatrix #bdsm #bladder control #watersports #piss kink #mistress/slave #dom/sub play #fetish clothing #leather gloves #face slapping #degradation kink #humiliation #golden shower #masturbation #aftercare #kink!week

don't look away (as i bare my soul to you) (clicking on the title will lead you to ao3)

You will always remember the night you met her.

You were attending a house party organised by one of your good friends — very much a social butterfly, unlike yourself — and you weren't surprised there were all sorts of interesting people there, and that one of them just happened to be the tallest, most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. 

You could tell she was exceptionally bored as she sat on the couch alone, long legs crossed, typing on her phone and absentmindedly sipping her wine. You probably stared at her for a full minute, just awkwardly hanging by the door with your own drink, taken by her commanding presence and how stunning she looked just in her casual black slacks and blouse that was unbuttoned just enough that you could almost see her bra if you angled your head the right way. 

You surely would have stared much longer had she not lifted her gaze and raised her eyebrow at you. You immediately felt your cheeks burn and your palms sweat, embarrassment overwhelming you, as if you’ve been caught doing something terribly wrong. You opened your mouth, wanting to say something, but you didn’t know what could be said after so rudely staring at someone, so you turned to leave.

What stopped you from fleeing in shame, with your tail between your legs, was that she smirked and gestured you to join her, tapping a spot next to her on the couch. You immediately obeyed. No other option even crossed your mind — something about this woman drew you in.

“Jane Murdstone,” she said with a delicious, velvety English accent, extending her arm towards you as you sat next to her. You noticed how piercingly blue her eyes are.

“My palms are sweaty,” you said stupidly, looking at her with your mouth slightly agape, feeling as if you were in the presence of a goddess.

“Then wipe them on your trousers,” she said calmly, cocking her head. The corner of her lips barely perceptibly curled upwards.

You wiped your palms on your trousers and went on to shake her hand. You immediately noticed how big it is compared to yours, and you didn’t know why it flustered you so much. She gave you a firm squeeze and lingered a second longer than necessary. 

“Will I get a name, or just reports on the state of your palms?” she asked.

You stuttered while telling her your name, but she didn’t comment on it.

“Do I have something on my face?” she just asked, leaning back into the couch and swinging her arm over the headrest. 

“Why?” you asked back, confused.

“You stared at me for a full minute,” she answered, smirking, and took a sip of her wine. She never once broke eye contact with you — it made you squirmy, but you couldn’t look away, as if under a spell. You felt as if she was looking at your very soul — bare and unprotected and vulnerable.

“I—I’m sorry, I just thought… I just thought you were beautiful,” you managed to utter.

“Did you, now?” she asked, looking very amused .

You nodded.

“Well, thank you. But don’t you know it’s quite rude to stare?”

That finally made you avert your gaze in shame. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, don’t worry — I like making people flustered. I’m having a lot of fun right now.”

You looked up at her again. She was staring at you with that piercing gaze that made you feel completely naked, her blue eyes twinkling in amusement. “And what do you do for fun?” she asked.

Oh, you were completely enraptured by her.

You spent the entire evening talking about everything and nothing. You were surprised how comfortable you felt with her, despite her commanding presence — or maybe because of it. She never paid any attention to you stuttering, nor your blushing — she just sat there and waited until she got an answer to a question she asked. It made it hard to avoid talking about yourself — and oh, it felt so good to talk about yourself for once. 

At one point you asked her what she did for work — and then choked on your drink when you heard the answer. It surprised you, even though her commanding presence could have been an inkling — but she just looked so normal, with her dark brown hair in a loose bun, her tasteful and minimal makeup, and her slacks, blouse and pumps that made her look like a businesswoman on her evening off.

“A dominatrix? That’s really cool,” you said, blushing, “I just didn’t expect it. Don’t get me wrong, but you just look very normal.”

She raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her wine. “Oh, and what did you expect? Latex? Or leather?”

You felt very silly because that is exactly what you expected. “Sorry, I just… I just never met a dominatrix before.”

“So, not familiar with that world, I presume?”

“Not really. But, I mean… I’m… interested. I mean, not interested interested, don’t get me wrong. I just, you know, had like, thoughts, and I’d never actually do it, but I think about, I mean not think about, just like… I wonder sometimes, you know, like what it’d be like, like, none of the hardcore stuff, but just, you know—”

She interrupted your pathetic rambling. “Would you want to try it?”

You froze. “What?”

“Would you want to try it?” she repeated. Her expression was completely calm and neutral, as if she just asked you about your favourite colour. 

“I—I—I mean, that would make no sense. I was always… I’m boring. I just go to my job and then I go home. It couldn’t be into something like that, like, it’d be so out of character and it… it just makes no sense that I would, you know, be like…. into it,” you fumbled.

“I didn’t ask you if it would make sense. I asked if you’d like to try it.”

You spent the next couple of seconds just staring at her, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. She just sat there in silence, calmly sipping her wine, waiting for you to answer.

And finally, you did.

“Yes.”

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

You glance at the clock. 

It’s 12pm — another five hours until the end of your work day, and you already can’t focus on anything else besides the pain in your bladder. 

You press your thighs together — you can do this. 

You take in a deep breath before turning your attention to the pile of paperwork laying on your desk — mocking you and waiting for you to go through it. And you will — you must. It has to be done by the end of the day. You won’t let yourself get fired — you’ll push through.

You wouldn’t want to disappoint your Mistress, after all.

Jane has been your Mistress for about six months now, and slowly you are starting to venture into kinks you never thought you’d admit being interested in — to anyone — ever. You were fully prepared to take those with you to the grave.

Truth be told, you once thought the same about trying out a BDSM lifestyle, and then… well. Then you sort of stumbled into it — and now it’s something you do on a Monday afternoon after working hours.

Or, in this case, during working hours.

Your belly tingles with excitement just thinking about it — no one knows you’re engaging in a sexual fantasy of yours right now.

You clench your thighs together again — both to help with the fact that you really need to pee right now and to give provide some friction. You know, however, that you absolutely cannot touch yourself, nor go to the bathroom — not until 6pm today, when your scheduled session takes place.

You smile and start sorting through the paperwork in front of you. You’re giddy with anticipation.

6pm can’t come soon enough.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

You can barely stand when you get to her apartment and ring the doorbell. Your bladder hurts — you don’t think you can hold it in much longer.

She opens the door in a black, silken night-robe. Her long hair is loose and fluffy around her shoulders, she isn’t wearing any makeup, and she’s barefoot. She seems to be naked underneath the robe. It’s unusual — she normally puts on something more fitting for her role. however, you still think she looks gorgeous — perhaps even more so than usual.

She eyes you up and down. “Come in,” she says, face impassive, then turns around and walks towards the playroom. “Coat, bag, shoes,” she commands, not bothering to turn around or look at you as she disappears into the room on the right. 

You quickly hang your coat and bag and take your shoes off before you follow her, pressing your thighs together and clenching your pelvic muscles as hard as you can.

She waits for you in the playroom, sitting on the big couch next to the window. She gestures for you to stand in the middle of the room.

“Stand here and don’t move. You’ll watch me get dressed. When I’m done, you can go to the bathroom.”

As much as the thought excites you, you don’t think you can last even another ten minutes.

“But, Mistress, I… I don’t think I can hold it in much longer. It’s been an entire day.”

“Well,” she says, tilting her head. She watches you squirm from the couch, lips curling in amusement. “If you can’t make it, you’ll just have to go right here.”

“R-right here?” you repeat. You can feel your cheeks starting to burn. “But… I can’t.”

“Well, if you can’t then you won’t,” she simply says and gets up from the couch. She walks towards the little vanity in the corner of the room and stars sorting through her makeup. “And if you can, you are welcome to. However — you don’t get to use the bathroom until I’m done.” She sits down on the little chair and starts applying moisturiser on her face. 

“But—but—” you start, but she interrupts you. 

“You will not give me attitude, or there will be consequences,” she says, looking at you through the mirror. The tone of her voice sends a shiver down your spine — cold, uncompromising, and so fucking hot. 

“Yes, Mistress,” you say and your voice sounds squeakier than you intended. 

“Poor little thing — always so flustered around me,” she coos while dabbing concealer under her eyes, saccharine condescension oozing from her voice. “You just need to be stepped on, don’t you? You need someone to tell you what to do and when to do it — even your bodily functions. Can’t even do that yourself.”

“No, Mistress,” you say, shuffling on your feet, pressing your thighs together. Your bladder really hurts. 

“Stop squirming,” she says, dusting eyeshadow on her lids and glancing at you in the mirror. “You have one very simple task and it is to stand still. Or are you too incompetent even for that?”

“It really hurts, Mistress. May I sit down?” you ask.

“No.”

You try your best not to squirm. You press your thighs together as tightly as you can, trying to take deep breaths to soothe yourself and breathe through the pain. You somehow manage to zone out — you watch her do her makeup, as if in a trance, and you’re proud of yourself for doing rather well. You make it through powder, mascara, blush, eyeliner and lipstick, and before you know it, she’s done. She fluffs out her hair and checks her makeup in the mirror, and then she gets up and turns to look at you.

“You’re doing well,” she says. “A bit too well. Is this too easy, hm?” she asks, approaching you.

“No, Mistress.”

She stands in front of you — and fuck, she’s so tall. It makes you feel all fuzzy and tingly inside. 

“Oh, I disagree,” she says. She throws the robe off of herself, revealing that she is, indeed, naked underneath. You mouth waters. “You’ll help me get into my corset.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

She turns and walks towards the couch. Her ass and thighs jiggle as she walks. You lick your lips, and your belly tingles — you hope she lets you touch her today. You’d love to worship her.

Laying on the couch, you only now realise, is the outfit she picked for herself for today — a black corset, a leather harness, black stockings, and — your favourite — black leather gloves. Black heels are on the floor next to it. You see no panties of any kind, which is a bit unusual, but not unwelcome. 

She takes the gloves first. She makes eye contact with you as she slowly puts them on, taking her time, wiggling her fingers and clenching her fist after she slides each of them on — and it’s so hot you almost forget abut the burning pain in your bladder. Your mouth gapes open and your heart beats faster.

“Close your mouth,” she says sternly before she moves on to the stockings, and you immediately obey.

She puts one long leg on the couch and slides the stocking on — painfully slowly — then does the same with the other one. You lick your lips and squirm again. “Don’t. Squirm,” she commands.

“Sorry, Mistress.”

She slides her feet into black heels, then grabs the corset before she slowly walks to you, swaying her hips. Her breasts bounce as she moves and you can’t help but stare. She’s even taller now with the heels on, and it makes you giddy. You feel so tiny next to her.

As soon as she reaches you, she slaps you across the face — hard. You gasp.

“You can’t even follow simple directions — stand still and keep your mouth closed. How many times to I need to say it, hm?” she says and grabs your jaw with her gloved hand. She presses her fingers into your cheeks so hard it hurts. “Answer me.”

“I—I’m sorry, Mistress, it won’t happen again,” you utter, eyes wide, chest slightly heaving. You have to crane your neck so far back to meet her gaze — you love it.

She lets go of your jaw, and then immediately slaps you again, making you suck in a sharp breath.

“How is your bladder?” she asks as she wraps the corset she’s holding around her torso. It’s already buckled in the front, but the laces on the back are loose. 

“It hurts, Mistress.”

“Poor thing,” she says, her face stony, as she pokes your belly with her finger. You tense your muscles and clench your thighs together. 

“Please, Mistress — it hurts,” you say. You’re doing so well — but if she does that again, you know you won’t be able to hold it in.

“Does it now?” she asks condescendingly. 

“Yes, Mistress.”

She simply chuckles. 

“Tie this. Make it tight.”

She turns around, holding the corset pressed to her stomach, and you immediately start working on the laces. The pain in your bladder is becoming worse by the minute, especially after her poking it. You can barely concentrate on your task, but somehow you manage to push through. 

She turns back around to face you. “Only the harness left. Do you think you can make it?” 

She reaches inside the corset to adjust her breasts. Your gaze wanders towards them. You bite your lip as you watch her gloved hand fondle her breast, cupping it and pushing upwards. “Eyes up.”

You look up. The intensity with which she looks at you makes you shiver — it always does. With her, you always feel like you’ve nowhere to hide. It’s like she can see inside your soul, like she truly sees you — pathetic and shivering and naked — and she never averts her eyes. 

“I can make it, Mistress.”

“Are you quite sure?” she asks, and her blue eyes twinkle, but her face is otherwise unreadable. 

“I think so, Mistress.” 

It hurts — badly — but you don’t want to give up now that you’re so close to making it.

“Wait here,” she says and walks out of the room. You watch her ass wiggle and her hips sway as she leaves.

The moment she exits the room, you squirm and press your thighs together as hard as you can. You don’t know how to feel — on one hand, it would be really hot if she made you pee your pants, and on the other, you don’t think you could handle the shame you’d feel. You like humiliation — but this? You’ve never done something like this before. You decide you’ll try your best to hold it in until she lets you go to the bathroom.

She returns quickly, carrying a big water bottle. She hands it to you. Your heart sinks into your stomach.

“Drink,” she says. “All of it.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

You start drinking, and she watches. It’s a big bottle, and you aren’t sure you can drink it all. You can feel your belly filling with water, and the pressure in your bladder is unbearable. You try to lower the bottle, pace yourself, but she tilts it and pushes it into your mouth. 

“I said, all of it.”

She reaches under your shirt and grabs your hips. You’re still drinking. She gentle runs her gloved hands over your stomach — lightly, teasingly — then under your bra. You continue drinking until you finish the bottle as she fondles you, sending tingles down your spine.

“All done?” she asks, running her fingers over your ribs. 

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Give it to me.”

She takes the bottle and puts it on the little table next to the couch, then returns to you.

“You must be so uncomfortable,” she says, sliding her hands under your shirt again, putting one on the small of your back and the other on your bloated belly.

“Yes, Mistress.” You’re sure you can’t make it at this point. “How long… until I can go to the bathroom, Mistress?” you ask.

She gently massages your belly and you whimper. “Oh, but you could go right now, and it would all stop.”

“But I can’t, I’m too embarrassed.”

“And what if I commanded you to go, hm? You wouldn’t disobey me, would you?” she asks, circling around you as she caresses your stomach, until she’s behind you and pressing her body into yours. She leans down and you feel her hot breath on your ear. You whimper.

“I can’t, Mistress, please, I—”

She grabs your neck from behind you, her gloved hand pressing against your windpipe. “Do not give me attitude.”

Suddenly, she grabs your hips and presses her fingers into your pelvis. You gasp and your muscles give in — and the next thing you know warm liquid is trickling down your thigh. Horrified, you watch a dark, wet spot form on your trousers.

Jane lets go of your waist and walks to stand in front of you as you continue to stare at your crotch, deep shame colouring your cheeks red. You can’t help but gasp in relief as the painful pressure bladder finally subsides, which makes you even more embarrassed. You hide your face into your hands and press your thighs together. It just keeps going — you have’t peed all day. You feel it trickle down your calves and onto your feet until it pools on the floor. Tears of shame prickle in your eyes. 

“Look at me,” Jane says. You slowly lower your hands and clutch your shirt, breathing deeply and trying not to cry. You look at her. She’s standing a few feet away from you, watching you, her gaze as intense as ever. “Don’t avert your eyes.”

You watch her, tears streaming down your face, your underwear, your trousers and your socks uncomfortably wet, as she walks towards the couch and takes the harness. She puts it on, but it takes a while. You just stand there — embarrassed, blushing, crying and wet. 

You aren’t wet just from your own piss, however.

Something about the humiliation makes you incredibly aroused, and Jane knows it — oh, she knows it well. She knew it from the first night you talked — you didn’t even have to tell her — and she pushes you, always pushes you just a bit further than the last time.

She walks back towards you, now clad in the elaborate harness that hugs her neck, her waist, her arms and her thighs, black leather belts crisscrossing. She looks like your dirtiest fantasy.

“Kneel,” she says. 

You kneel into the puddle of your own piss, wetting your trousers even further. 

You look up at her. As she isn’t wearing any underwear, your gaze wanders to her pussy — it looks pink and delicious and absolutely delectable. You wonder if she’s command you to eat her out, and you shiver in anticipation, heat pooling in your belly. 

She lifts her leg and puts her heeled foot onto your shoulder. “Since you’re already so filthy,” she says, “it’ll make no difference if you’re even filthier.”

You stare at her pink, slick folds and your mouth waters. “Tilt your head back. Look me in the eyes,” she says. You do as you’re told and you meet her gaze. She watches you, her lips parted and her eyes dark with lust. 

You gasp when warm liquid hits your chest. You feel her piss slowly wet your shirt and your bra and drip down your stomach into your underwear. She keeps eye contact the entire time. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” she says. “Filthy girl.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you whimper, cheeks red, chest heaving. 

“Nasty, dirty girl,” she says, her voice deep and thick with lust. “I bet your pussy is all wet, hm?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you breathe out. She looks like a goddess, looking down upon you. Your mind feels fuzzy and you feel as light as a feather. You’d do anything she asked of you right now. You just want to serve her.

She removes her foot from your shoulder, and you barely notice that the heel dug into your flesh — you only feel a sort of a euphoria. 

“Stay on the floor and touch yourself. You can come.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you say and immediately slip your hand into your soaked underwear. 

“Sit down, ass on the floor.”

You do as she tells you and sit down in the puddle of piss. Your trousers immediately soak through on your ass, but you don’t care.

She looks down on you as you start rubbing your clit. “Look at you. Nasty girl. You like sitting in your own filth, hm?”

“Yes, Mistress,” you moan, rubbing your clit faster.

“No wonder you need me to guide you. You can’t do anything yourself except rub your pussy like a bitch in heat.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you whine. You’re already getting close. “Ah, Mistress, you’re so good to me.”

“I’m too good to you. Nasty girls such as yourself only deserve a firm hand.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whimper. You slip your fingers inside of your dripping cunt and start pumping your them in and out — but your trousers are in the way, and you quickly unzip them and pull them down your thighs along with your underwear, and you’re now sitting bare in a pool of piss. You spread your legs as far as you can as you continue to fuck yourself, hitting your clit with your palm every time you pump your fingers into your aching pussy.

“Look at you — so desperate. I don’t even have to touch you for you to fall apart. Such a dirty fucking slut.”

“Ah — yes, yes, Mistress,” you whine. You’re so close.

“Look me in the eyes when you come. I want you to know who you belong to — every orgasm you have is mine, do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Mistress, ah—” you breathe out as your eyes meet her icy blue ones. 

“Come for me,” she says, her voice cold and stern and uncompromising as she watches you, her gaze baring your soul. You are unable to hide from her — she is witnessing you at your lowest, in a puddle of piss rutting against your hand like an animal, and yet she never averts her gaze. She disarms you, renders you unable to do anything other than obey. You belong to her.

And you love it.

You keep eye contact as your orgasm washes over you, fast and hard and intense. For you, for you, it’s for you, you think as ecstasy overwhelms you and the only thing you’re aware of are her blue eyes, watching you, judging you and absolving you at the same time. You keep fucking yourself through the aftershocks, mumbling, “I’m yours, Mistress, it’s for you,” as you slowly come down from your high, unsure if anything you say is intelligible. 

She is silent — she waits for you to come to your senses.

A wave of shame hits you as soon as the orgasmic euphoria is gone. Tears pool in your eyes and fall down your cheeks. You want to hide your face in your hands or your shirt, but you’re covered in piss and it disgusts you. “I’m disgusting,” you cry, tears blurring your vision. You can’t look her in the eye.

“You aren’t,” she says as she takes off her gloves, and you want to believe her, but you can’t. 

You cry and you cry, and she helps you clean up. You shower together, and she wordlessly holds you while you cry, and then helps you put on clean spare clothes that you keep at her place for occasions such as this one. You cry some more, and she caresses your hair and lets you cling to her.

She isn’t a very gentle woman — you learned that quickly — but there is something about her presence that comforts you. You feel safe around her. She says few words, but they are picked carefully — and she won’t argue with the mean voices in your head. She says what she means exactly once.

“I’m glad you trusted me with this,” she says as she bids you goodbye at the door. You say nothing — you just hug her. She tenses up, not expecting it, but then she relaxes and hugs you tighter. She smells like citrus shower gel, and you know you do too. You look forward to lying in your bed tonight smelling like her. 

“See you next week, Jane,” you murmur into her chest. She pulls back and kisses your forehead — a rare show of affection.

“Take care,” she says. 

As you walk back home, you feel pleasantly light.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

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[morgana-ren]

Leighton, who knows your face but not your name once school is in session. He's never met you before, but you catch his attention in the hallway. You're laughing and giggling with friends, school folder squeezed to your chest and a sweet smile on your face. You walk right past him without a glance, too engrossed in your conversation to notice his leering.

Pretty thing, he thinks, wondering if he has any photos of you.

Surely not. He'd remember someone like you.

Leighton, who sends Sirris out to the cafe as he conducts his 'inspections.' Camera in hand, he lines the girls up and tells them to unbutton their shirts and flash their breasts— for health reasons, of course. He takes his photos as each girl strips and shifts uncomfortably before sending them back to their seats. His grin widens when he realizes you're at the end of the line.

Finally, he thinks.

You lower your blouse over your shoulders and ball your hands on either side of your torso, trying to hide the view from anyone but him, hard swallowing and trying not to meet his eyes. He stares for a moment before finally snapping a few photos, catching your quivering lip in the shot.

"Nice pair,' he says, licking his lips and imagining what it would feel like to jiggle the fat in his palms. You flush, shrinking back as he reaches forward and indulges, running a calloused thumb over the hardening peak. A quick squeeze and he realizes he's out of time.

She'll give me an excuse one day, he thinks, palming his hard cock beneath his desk. All students do at some point or another. You'll end up in his office. He's sure of it.

Leighton, who grows tired of waiting. You're a good girl, it seems. Well liked and behaved. A teacher favorite. So he takes things into his own hands.

He bribes two delinquents to frame you. He doesn't care how.

Just ensure she is sent to me, he tells them. They oblige gleefully. Thank God for this horrible town and the rotten fruit it bears.

Leighton, who is particularly careless with his car the next day. He drives through puddles and parks under trees; he doesn't take the tunnel to work, letting the rain wash over the paint job. Filthy, filthy, filthy.

It won't stay like this for long, he thinks.

You sit in his office after school, squirming and fingering anxiously at your skirt. You've never been here before. You're a good girl.

"I have something special for you today."

He takes you to the private lot, pointing to the sponge and bucket of soapy water sitting beside his car. You look at him and then the bucket incredulously. Surely he doesn't want—

"You'll want to take off your clothes for this," He grins, with far too many teeth. "No sense in getting your little uniform dirty."

You do as you're told. You strip down to your panties and get nice and wet and soapy cleaning his car. He watches attentively— very attentively, legs crossed to hide the throbbing length straining against his slacks.

"You missed a spot," he points, leaning in for a better view as you bend and buff out some dirt on his bumper. Your wet underwear clings to your ass, starting to ride up, and you don't dare pinch at it—

If only he had more time, he thinks.

Leighton, who raises a hand to Sydney in the Library. You rush to his aid, demanding an explanation.

"Supplies have gone missing under their watch," he tells you. "And they are responsible."

You claim equal responsibility, noble little thing that you are.

"Punish me too."

You don't have to tell him twice. Normally he'd have you both over the counter, but he can't pass up the opportunity. He empties the library, and tells Sydney to lock the door behind him. He won't hear any protestation from the little brat. None of it.

"I'm doing as she asked. Now get out."

You cling to the desk as he bends you over and flips your schoolgirl skirt, biting your lip to hide your shame. He takes a good, long look, committing it to memory before slapping the curve of your ass with his hand.

God, what he wouldn't give to—

Oh, wait. He's the headmaster. He can do as he pleases.

Your knees buckle as he crooks a finger in the waistband of your panties and gives them a firm tug down.

"This is a severe infraction, and thus begets a severe punishment. One you won't soon forget."

And one he won't either.

You yelp as he repeatedly cocks his hand back and slaps your bare bottom without mercy, your eyelashes wet and dewy as little silvery tears trail down your cheeks. Your cries border on obscene, and if he tries, he can imagine you're moaning for him like the naughty little thing he knows you are inside.

Your skin turns the most delicious shade, abuse leaving you already turning a cosmic shade of colors from the bruising. He almost pants harder than you do, hardly even needing to touch you to feel his peak approaching. He's horrified, but he can't stop. He's gone far past the 'deserved' punishment but the way you mewl and whimper has his mind obscured with hazy pink lust.

"H-headmaster!"

"Please let me go!"

"I'll be a good girl, I promise!"

He has to stop. He has to. If he doesn't, he's going to make a mess of his trousers.

A mess that should be on your teary little face and jiggling tits and all over your pretty cunt and deep in your bruising ass

With a final blow, he releases your arms, trying to catch his breath. You stay bent and sobbing long enough for him to catch a quick photo on his cell.

(Never the cell phone. Never ever the cell phone. Too traceable, too damning— but he can't bear to forget the sight in every marvelous detail. Before the shape of his hand disappears from your creamy skin and his handiwork heals over.)

Leighton, who leans over you as you sob, large hand grabbing a rough handful of your ass, snarling in your ear.

"You're a naughty little brat, and I'll be seeing you again soon. Mark my words."

He knows you feel his eagerness as he presses against you; there's no way you can't feel the hot, hard length practically ready to pop behind his zipper. His face is as red as your behind and he can tell if he doesn't pull away now, he'll have you here and now. He wouldn't be able to stop himself— couldn't control it.

Leighton, who turns without another word, leaving you heaving and weeping against the counter, bottom bared and practically bleeding.

Leighton, who beelines to his office, locking himself inside before making the mess he so longs to all over the printed pictures he has of your exposed tits and pouting lips.

It's not the same.

It's not the fucking same.

Leighton, who decides in that moment that he can't live if he can't defile you himself. He wants to feel those tight, wet walls constrict around his cock, velvety and hot. He wants to spread your legs and work you over until you're a panting, moaning mess, begging him to stop—

To keep going.

Leighton, the educator, who would be remiss in his position if he didn't teach you all about sexuality. About the dirty things humans do in the dark. About what a mouth is truly capable of and that your ass is used for more than just discipline.

Leighton, the headmaster, who announces to the school the very next day that he'll be rewarding all of his best students with private positions in his office for extra credit.

Leighton, your headmaster, who makes it mandatory.

[mamani-bento]

five (satoru gojo)

satoru gojo x reader, 1.3k, reader is wearing a saree

established relationship, fluff + humour

gojo would be soooo good at helping you out of your saree. source? trust me.

mamani-bento's masterlist!

"how many did you say there were?"

"four, i think. wait, no. there's one at the bottom of the pallu as well. five."

gojo sits on the edge of bed, surveying your saree-clad body. his eyes move top to bottom, gaze catching on all the places you remember putting pins in. "what about the one fixing the saree to your blouse?"

"oh, shit. yeah, there's one there."

you stand a few feet in front of him, sparkling midnight-blue chiffon wrapped around your frame. if it hadn't been such an exhausting day, full of socialising and preening, you would have been out of the saree ages ago. but you don't think you could take it off gently enough, what with all the pins holding it up. hence, the extra pair of hands.

"do you want to just get started and deal with the pins when we get to them?"

gojo hums thoughtfully at your question. you hope he says yes. you really hope he says yes, but there's no rushing him. this is a project, and every project must have its due diligence.

finally, making you let out an internal sigh of relief, he rises from his seated position. "yeah, okay. let's do that."

placing two hands on your shoulders, slender fingers brushing against the skin that your blouse exposes, he turns you so you're facing the full-length mirror on the wall. you both look at each other through the reflection. the heat of his front warms the goosebumps that had risen on your fairly exposed upper back. his own suit has been discarded on the bed, leaving him only in his light-blue shirt and slacks.

his blindfold was swapped out in favour of a pair of sunglasses, and he looks at you over the top of them now, bright blue eyes ridiculously complementing the colour you're draped in. pushing the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, he kneels behind you so he can access the bottom of your pallu, one end of the saree.

his white hair flashes from behind your frame as he carefully lifts the fabric, gently unlatching the tiny, golden safety pin and holding it out to you on the side. you accept it in your hand, fiddling with the clasp as he rises back up. the free end of the saree is open now, gorgeous border fanning out.

"there are two here," he says, slipping a long finger between your blouse and your skin at your shoulder. he tilts the pin forward as much as he can so you can awkwardly crane your neck to look. "does it matter which one i take off first?"

"uh. one fixes the pleats of the saree and the other fixes the saree to the blouse. maybe open the pleats first?" there's an affection in your voice that you're sure wasn't there a few minutes ago. there's something about his concentrated frown as he carefully, reverently handles the garment, handles you.

he nods, maneuvering the slippery chiffon and taking out the pin above. immediately, fabric tumbles down your shoulder in a rush, covers the length of your arm, flows down until it's nearly brushing your knees.

gojo steps back in alarm at the sudden deluge of sheer fabric, and pauses when he sees your reflection in the mirror. "whoah."

you nod in agreement, marvelling at the easy elegance that the piece of cloth offers in this form, all regality and decadently deep blue. the material is one of your favourites, not stiff like pure silk but delicately flowing and moulding to the shape of your body. the way it sits now – pallu open and saree cascading down your shoulder – makes you look royal.

“how come you don’t wear sarees more often?” gojo asks, momentarily foregoing his pin-extraction mission in favour of wrapping his arms around your waist, one snaking under the open material on your left to meet the other winding along the bare skin of your midriff. his breath puffs over your short hair, already growing past your ears and desperately in need of a trim.

the unimpressed look you level at him through the mirror is in direct contrast to the way you lean back into his chest and place your palms over his hands. “you want me to spend half an hour draping a saree before leaving for my next mission?”

a low chuckle reverberates against your back as gojo dips to place an affectionate kiss against your cheek. “point taken,” he mumbles, regrettably pulling away.

the next pin to come off is the other one at your shoulder, the one holding up the fabric on the upper half of your body. a lone index finger spiders under the fabric of your blouse until it reaches the fastening and unclasps it. in another avalanche of blue, the material tumbles off the top of your body, leaving you in your blouse waist-up. the intricately woven, silver top has a curved v-neck, colour matching the stones lining the length of the saree body.

“nice,” gojo says with a wink at your reflection, fingers reaching out to quickly pinch at the side of your waist with no real heat. you scoff at the audacity, but before you can retaliate, he’s swooping to kneel on the floor behind you again, trying to find the next pin in the fabric.

you decide to keep the revenge for after he finishes helping you out, and throw him a bone so you can get there quicker. “it’s in the front.”

dutifully, he shuffles to round your body. his palms pat you down, fingers smoothing over the fabric from your hips to your feet as he tries to feel out the other pin.

“i think this needs to be untucked first,” you observe. you pull out the folded segments of your falling pleats neatly tucked into your front. before you can address the pin there, gojo’s hands reach out still yours.

“my job,” he says when you raise an eyebrow at him, flashing a cheeky grin.

your smile at the top of his head is sickeningly fond, and you can’t stop yourself from reaching out to run your fingers through his hair. he hums as your nails briefly scratch his scalp, but doesn’t say anything. only holds up the pin he’s retrieved so you can add it to the growing pile on the bed behind you.

it’s easy to see where the next pin is, the last catch holding the saree up. you’re standing in the middle of a shimmering pool of dark blue, and gojo tentatively shifts so he doesn’t end up kneeling on any of the stones. he has to bend a little for this one, sitting on his ankles so he can easily adjust the material to open the fastening.

immediately, the weight drops from your body, settling in a shimmering pile at your feet.

gojo rises smoothly, giving the sides of your covered thighs a quick pat in completion, palms skimming your hips above the material of the navy blue under-skirt. he moves his touch upwards, grazing the sides of your torso, front of your shoulders, toying with the tie at the back of your blouse.

“this too?” he asks, bending his neck to look at you over the tops of his sunglasses.

you nod. his forearms are a solid weight by the side of your neck, his fingers brushing against your skin as he tugs at the fancy end of the bow.

instantly, you breathe a little easier, letting out a whoosh at the subtle give around your lungs.

“thanks,” you say, huddling closer to his frame so you can wrap your arms around his waist. unsuspecting of any ulterior motive, gojo lets his own wind around your shoulders, humming in acknowledgement.

and that’s when you pinch him back.

[v3nusxsky]

hii, i wanted to ask if there will be a second part of little minx with larissaa

You little minx| NSFW

*Authors note~ I love this prompt and couldn't help but mix it with the request for a part two of little minx*

Trigger warnings~ mommy kink, dom l sub r vibrating undies semi public sex? Teasing, edging, shifted cock, breeding kink, fucked dumb, bulge kink, praise/degradation

Prompt~see ask^^

+

Hi my love!! I have a request but its just an idea and nothing specific. A smut chapter with a lot of sexual tension. Maybe L and R go out for dinner or smt and the foreplay' starts at the restaurant. Or one of them could have the vibrating undies smt like that.Just a lot of teasing while in public and then they rush home and have crazy desperate sex lolLmk what you think we can work out the details together or if you have ideas for a chapter like that feel free to do your own thing! Xx~ by my lovely idkaname666666 on wattpad

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

Previously~ The look in her eyes was truly murderous even if it was just for a second, she leant over to whisper in your ear discreetly, "my my, you little minx are in for one hell of a long night, I hope you are aware I will not be easy on you for this stunt" causing you to shiver in delight. Tonight would be worth it and you trusted her implicitly to know she would take amazing care of you. Clearly she wasn't afraid of making you wait, when the meeting ended she dismissed you instantly before going to her office to work.

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

Being dismissed after the meeting left you frustrated and confused. You knew you'd been bratty, but you didn't think you pushed it far enough to be dismissed for such a long time. It had been an hour and half since the meeting. You were hungry but waiting for Larissa to join you before eating, that's when your phone dinged with a text.

Mommy❤️‍🔥

Sweetheart, there's an outfit laid out on our bed. Put it on and meet me in the car. I'm taking you for dinner. Love you doll❤️‍🔥

With a quick stroll into your bedroom you found a beautiful form fitting spaghetti strapped dress in a gorgeous emerald colour. Beside it lay, a maroon underwear set that would not hide anything from the preying eyes and some stunning black heels. Quickly dressing in her chosen clothing you curled your hair and did some light makeup before grabbing a simple emerald clutch and headed out on your way to the car.

Larissa was already there in her stunning chosen outfit for the night, some black slacks and a beautiful crisp white blouse that was unbuttoned just enough to tease what lay underneath. Instantly you fell into an easy conversation that seemed to flow perfectly, Larissa never revealing where she was taking you until you pulled up in the car park.

Once you had both ordered and been seated, you felt a slight buzzing coming from your underwear. You shot your gaze up to your girlfriend who seemed completely unaware as she sipped her wine. As quick as the vibrations started, they stopped and this was a pattern thought out the whole meal. The starting and stopping driving you absolutely wild. You were struggling to contain the moans threatening to spill out and feeling your mommy's gaze on you was only adding to that. "Oh sweetheart, didn't you hear what I said?" She taunted you.

With food ate and paid for you both managed to rush to the car, Larissa seemingly in a hurry to get back to Nevermore while the vibrations remained constant for the trip. You had one instruction, don't cum. But those two words were extremely difficult to adhere to. But you wanted to be good, it was a need truly.

That was how you found yourself slammed into the door of your shared chambers. Her lips making home on your neck as her hands roamed your clothed body. The combination of vibrations hitting your core and her hands roaming your body causing you moan for the older women, "mommy" you whined hoping she'd give you more. "No my whore, you wanted my attention didn't you?" She purred before pulling back to look into your lustful eyes as you nodded desperately, "then you'll shut up and take everything mommy gives you like a good girl."

Clothes found there way to the floor, you lay bare for her and she remained in her underwear, her lips attacking yours passionately as she walked you both back to the bed. You'd been edged the entire meal, to say you were desperate was an understatement, so when she sank to her knees you couldn't help yourself, hips bucking forward. "Such a needy slut for mommy, aren't you baby?"

That was when you felt her hands on your thighs pushing them further apart before bringing her lips to your core. You were soaking, practicing dripping on the sheets, Larissa couldn't help but lap up everything your leaking whole was producing. In a needy haze you brought your hands to her hair to hold her closer, she snaked a hand up to cup your right breast. Bringing her other hand to the left side she couldn't help but roll the perfect buds between her fingers as her tongue worked hard lapping at your pussy. Once she was satisfied you'd been edged one last time she pulled away. Your frustrated whimpers only furthering her enjoyment. "Do we need something from mommy doll?"

After instructing you to shuffle more up the bed and leave your legs wide open she stripped her underwear off. There a girthy seven inch dick, stood proudly to attention. Yes, Larissa was painfully hard and your holes looking too damn inviting, she almost couldn't decided which one to use first. Almost. You bit your lip at the sight, "mommy please" you whined. "My desperate whore, you want mommy to fuck you? To cum inside that pretty cunt? To own it? To breed you like the cum slut you are" she teased as she brought her cock to tease your slit. Her precum mixing with your slick causing you to moan, "oh fuck yes mommy! Please use me. I'm yours mommy please" you whined as your hips squirmed trying to gain more.

"Oh I know you are doll, such a pretty thing for me to use" she whispered before coming to hungrily kiss your lips as she entered you blindly. Larissa was incredibly gifted when she shifted her anatomy so it was unsurprising that you were feeling the sting of your pussy stretching to accommodate her. "Oh god mommy your so big" you mewled against her lips as you sucked in air. Her lips trailing down to your chest nipping and sucking on the journey.

When she began to pull out just until the tip stayed in your cunt to thrust back in again,watching as your eyes rolled back your head as you clenched around her. Setting a brutal pace all you could do was whine and mewl for her. "Oh god mommy! Please! I need to mommy fuck" you whined hoping she would know exactly what you were asking her for. "You want to cum for mommy doll? Cum angel" she purred moving your leg to sit on her shoulder as she hit deeper into your core.

You came with a scream that tore through your throat. Larissa continued to fuck you through the orgasm and after you came back down she still continued. "Oh mommy! Fuck no more too sensitive mommy" you whimpered only to be ignored, "I love this pretty pussy darling. Look at you taking mommy so well. Give mommy one more. I want you to take my cum doll like the greedy slut you are"

It was her words that threw you over the edge once again, white hot pleasure washing over you in brutal waves, your cunt walls squeezing her cock causing her to spurt her cum into your pussy. She fucked you both down from the pleasure before gently slipping out of you, "baby?" She whispered. No response, she'd fucked you so well that you'd passed out. With a satisfied smirk she began to clean you up before coming to hold you to her.

"Doll, come back to mommy baby. You did so good. My good girl. Come back to me baby" she murmured rubbing soothing circles into your back in the hopes of rousing you back to consciousness. "Mmmm?" You murmured feeling extremely satisfied but confused. "Welcome back darling" she chuckled before starting your usual after care routine. Snacks, water and some snuggles before you both drifted into a peaceful slumber.

Word count~ 1465

[iamnotoriginalphil]

Undercover (Alex Blake x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You don't quite understand how you ended up playing the role of Blake's girlfriend, but your heart is too invested in the fantasy

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: mentions of homophobia, swearing, mentions of alcohol

You were fucked. It was that simple. There was no other way to put it other than you were completely and utterly fucked.

“Seriously Morgan, why do I have to do it?” you demanded, despite knowing the answer.

“The unsub wants age gap lesbians,” he said, “we’ve already been over this.”

“So send JJ. She’s young and hot and amazing in the field,” you said, wheedling him, “come on, please.”

“Oh no, we’re not doing this. If you can’t handle the heat you shouldn’t be our best undercover agent,” he said.

“You know I can’t do this,” you replied, following him.

“Can’t? Or don’t want to?” He flashed that infuriating grin that always made you want to strangle him.

“Morgan, you know why I can’t,” you said.

“An extra layer of realism isn’t going to hurt,” he replied.

“Morgan-“

“Oh look, there’s your hot date right now.”

You snapped your mouth shut, turning on your heels to smile at Alex as if nothing was wrong. She raised an eyebrow at you, pressing her lips into a straight line.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Fine and dandy,” you replied, letting your arms swing down to your side.

“What was that about?” she asked, eyes flicking over to Morgan who was talking to JJ. They both looked away when they noticed you glancing over.

“Morgan’s just being a pain in my ass like usual,” you said.

“We should head back to the hotel and get ready,” she said.

“Right. Yeah. I’ll meet you there. I need to… buy some date appropriate clothes.”

“I’ll meet you at 7:30.” You ignored the wink she shot in your direction.

Shopping was your idea of one of the circles of hell. Trying things on, figuring out if they looked good, if they fit you, it made you want to tear your hair out. It didn’t help that there was a part of you that wanted to look particularly hot for Alex, just in case there was even a sliver of the possibility that she might suddenly realise how much she wanted you when she saw you.

And if it meant you spent extra time getting ready, well, no one had to know about that.

You pulled the door open when you heard the knock at 7:30 exactly. You tried to smile to keep the butterflies in your stomach from overwhelming you. The smile slipped when the entire team was standing on the other side of the door.

“I don’t think we’re all going to fit at the table, guys,” you said, letting them in to your room.

“Damn girl, where you been hiding those legs?” Morgan asked.

“Behind office appropriate slacks,” you replied, “I save them to impress the girls.”

“Blake is a lucky woman.”

You let yourself look at her for the first time since everyone entered the room. Her blazer was the same from the last few days but her trousers were tighter than you were used to, showing off the long line of her legs. Her blouse was unbuttoned a few more buttons than she wore at work, showing just the hint of lace. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Indeed I am.” Her own eyes lingered on your body.

“Alright, you know how the night is going to proceed?” Hotch asked.

“Yes Dad.” You rolled your eyes.

“Morgan and JJ will be in the restaurant with you and Dave and I will be outside in the van,” he said, ignoring your snark, “use the codeword if you need to be extracted.”

“Of course,” Alex said.

“Now you’d better go if you want to make your reservations,” he said.

Alex held the door open for you and you ducked your head as you passed her. You weren’t properly alone with her until you were in the car, the rest of the team following you into the lobby of the hotel. She flashed you a smile.

“You really do look wonderful,” she said, “the girls you go out with are lucky.”

“Not so many of those these days,” you replied.

“That surprises me.” Her eyebrows drew together.

“I suppose I’ve been too busy to think about it,” you said, “this job is pretty hectic.”

“Mm,” she hummed.

She pulled up to the restaurant, throwing the car into park. You didn’t have time to blink before she was out of the car and opening your door. She extended her hand, threading her fingers through yours as she helped you out. You couldn’t help the smile at the feeling of your hands palm to palm.

“Sorry, could we have somewhere a bit more… private?” Alex asked the maitre d’ when you were shown to your table.

She shot you a look filled with intent. You didn’t even have to try at the flush on your cheeks, catching your lower lip between your teeth as her hand rested on your lower back. She led you towards a secluded booth. You slid in beside her, close enough for your thigh to press against hers.

“Should I order for you, honey?” she asked.

“You always know exactly what I want,” you replied, fluttering your lashes at her.

Her eyes dipped down, lingering on the plunging neckline of your dress. You arched your back, just a little and the smirk she gave you let you know she’d noticed.

“And do you know what I want, sweet girl?” she asked.

You shook your head. Her eyes glanced over the menu for a moment before dragging back to you. Her hand landed on your bare thigh, thumb brushing over your soft skin. You shivered, fighting against the impulse to press your legs together.

“I think you do,” she said, drawing closer to you until she was all you could see.

“Are you ready to order?”

You startled, jerking away from her to look up at the waiter. You looked down at your lap, not bothering to listen as Alex told him what you’d be having. You had to calm your heart. This wasn’t real. She was just playing a part. She didn’t feel the same way. No reason to get worked up over nothing.

“You’re being awfully quiet,” she said, tugging on the end of one of your curls.

You looked up at her. Her eyes had grown molten but the sex that had been rolling off her only moments ago had disappeared, replaced with concern.

“I suppose I’m not used to restaurants as nice as this,” you replied, “too many late night runs for burritos and meals consisting of instant ramen.”

“I remember those days,” she chuckled.

You reached out, lacing your fingers through hers, shifting yourself closer to her again. The smile on her face softened into something fond that had your heart beating faster than when her hand had been on your leg. Her arm was resting along the back of the seat, almost curling around your shoulders, fingertips brushing along your shoulder. You did shiver then, letting yourself press a little closer to her.

“Why do I doubt you were ever really bad enough with your money some days you had to choose which meal was the easiest to steal off someone else?” you asked.

“Are you just using me for a free meal?” You loved that smile on her, like the two of you were sharing a private joke.

“And a free place to sleep tonight,” you said.

“Sounds like I’m going to be getting lucky.” You didn’t know when her face had grown so close to you. You liked the way she was looking at you. You could quickly become addicted to it.

Her eyes darted up to something over your shoulder. The waiter was back, placing your food down, wine poured to compliment it. You felt yourself light up at what was placing in front of you.

“My favourite,” you said, looking at her.

“I know.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, fingers lingering on your jaw. You pressed a kiss to her cheek, soft and gentle. Her look of delight was enough to make your heart sing.

“Thank you,” you said, “for all of this.”

“I have to spoil my special girl,” she replied, voice surprisingly husky.

“So that I can spoil you later?” you asked, widening your eyes in mock innocence.

“Is that what you’re going to do, sweet girl?” She picked up her fork, shifting her attention off you.

You lent forward, lowering your voice as if sharing a secret. She ignored you until your lips brushed against the shell of her ear.

“Imagine I said something about seeing the lingerie I’m wearing underneath my dress just for you,” you murmured, too quiet for anyone but her to hear.

“Dirty girl,” she mumbled, eyes sweeping over your body again.

You felt a warmth flush move through your body, knowing that comment wasn’t for anyone’s ears but your own. You took a shaky breath and began eating as well.

And for a while it was easy to slip into the ruse of a date. Easy conversation, good wine, laughter. Soft touches, hands on your knee, fingers tangling. Kind smiles, sparkling eyes, shared warmth. It was the exact thing you’d dreamt about with this woman. The kind of romantic night you’d imagined over and over again. Your heart was fluttering the entire time.

The waiter cleared the plates and offered you dessert.

“Please?” you asked, pouting at her.

“Can we have a slice of the cheesecake with two spoons?” she asked the waiter, “and two coffees.”

“Of course.”

“How’d you find out I love cheesecake?” you asked.

“Believe it or not, I do pay attention to you,” she said, drawing closer to you, shifting until your bodies were practically pressed against one another.

You turned your body, shifting until one of your legs draped over hers. Your lip caught between your teeth again. She pushed your hair off your shoulder, her breath ghosting over the skin of your neck. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Laugh like I’ve just said something salacious to you,” she murmured, lips practically brushing against your earlobe.

You chuckled, a little self conscious, the flush on your cheeks not pretend. She drew back, just far enough to look in your eyes. Breath mingled together. Her eyes darkened as she looked down at your lips, still caught between teeth.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” she whispered, “is that okay?”

“I’ll have to reprimand you if you don’t,” you breathed.

You were surprised by the heat in her kiss. She stole your breath, her hand coming up to curl around the back of your neck, holding you in place. You moaned when her teeth sunk into your bottom lip, her tongue soothing over it before there was a sting. Her tongue brushed against yours and you were ready to fall to your knees at her alter.

Your own hand slipped under her blazer, seeking out her waist, wondering if you could get closer to her. Her other hand landed on your thigh again, thumb brushing the hemline of your dress, flirting with the possibility of dipping under.

“So sorry.”

You made a small whining noise as she pulled away, looking up at the waiter over your shoulder. She looked back, her thumb running along your bottom lip.

“All that pretty lipstick ruined,” she said, “I’m sorry, darling.”

“Don’t ever be sorry for a kiss like that,” you replied, offering her a small smile.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you two been together?”

You both looked up at the waiter still hovering at the side of the table. His hands were clasped in front of his body and he was smiling down at you.

“Three and a half years,” you replied, “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You looked back at her. There was such tenderness in her gaze.

“You seem to still be so in love,” he said, “I’m hoping to find that.”

“I’m sure you will,” you replied, feeling the way Alex’s fingers dug in just a little harder in your thigh.

“I’m beginning to think so too. Enjoy your dessert.”

He slipped through the tables, disappearing back into the kitchen. You turned, catching the look Alex was giving you.

“I plan on enjoying something,” you said, winking at her.

She chuckled, scooping up a bite of the cheesecake.

“Open up,” she commanded.

You did what she asked, closing your lips around the spoon placed in your mouth. She slowly pulled it from between your lips, eyes darkening again. You moaned at the taste, enjoying the way there seemed to be a flush growing high on her cheeks.

“Good?” she asked, voice low again.

“Sorry, I’m just going to have to propose to this cheesecake,” you said after swallowing.

“Three and a half years and you leave me for a dessert,” she laughed, “I should have never brought you here.”

She stole a bite of her own of the cheesecake, eyes closing in bliss. You watched as her tongue darted out, catching a stray crumb on her lower lip and the fire within you ignited again. You were still able to feel that tongue brushing against your own.

“Never mind,” she said, “I’m leaving you for the cheesecake.”

“How about we share?” you suggested, “I hear throuples are all the rage these days.”

“Deal.”

You weren’t expecting the chaste kiss but you also weren’t complaining about it. The only disappointment was when she moved back from you. You traded bites of the dessert and slowly drank your coffee, Alex continually glancing over your shoulder at the waiter, keeping eyes on his movement. You kept leaning closer and closer to her until it was time to go. She signalled to your waiter, bringing him over.

“Could we have the cheque please?” she requested.

“Of course.”

You giggled into her ear, her fingers slowly trailing up and down your back. When he returned he tapped the front.

“I’ve uh, left you a little something in there.”

Alex opened it and you glanced down, finding a Polaroid of something you definitely hadn’t wanted to see. Scrawled on the bottom was a phone number. He was hovering, just a few steps away, as if hoping to gauge your reactions.

“Well, that is certainly him,” you said.

“Yes, definitely the one we’re looking for,” she murmured.

From there it was easy enough to finish up. She placed the money on the table as Morgan arrived to arrest the man. She slipped the photo over to JJ who wrinkled her nose when she looked it over. The four of you escorted him out under the watchful gazes of the restaurant guests, ignoring his protests.

His confession came quick once he was seated in a police cell, talking to Morgan. Standing on the other side of the glass, arms wrapped around yourself, you felt disgusted at the words he was saying. Just another man feeling entitled to a woman’s body, angry at queer women for removing men from the equation completely. You didn’t even see Alex until later, once you were already back at the hotel, Hotch having made the call it was too late to fly back home by that point.

Showered and in your pyjamas, you were sitting on your bed, the TV playing quietly in the background as you stared out over the city. You had to keep trying to calm your heart and remind it that Alex had been playing a part, undercover, that none of it was real and it didn’t matter how much you’d enjoyed being hers for the evening.

A knock sounded quietly on your door. You got up, tugging on your shorts, trying to make them a bit longer for company. You peeked through the peep hole, not sure what you were expecting. The answer still left you confused.

“Hi.”

“Can we talk?” Alex asked.

You help the door open wider for her, letting her in to your room. She walked in, her back to you as she stood in the middle of the room. She turned with the quiet click of the door closing, her arms crossed over her chest.

“It’s pretty late,” you said when it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything.

“We can do this later if you want to sleep,” she said, stepping forward as if about to leave again.

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked, stopping her with both hand on her shoulders.

“It’s…” she trailed off and you watched her eyes trail down your body again, throat bobbing as she swallowed.

“For a master linguist, you seem to be having some problems with your words, Doctor Blake,” you said, giving her a half smile so she knew you were teasing.

“Don’t.” Her eyes squeezed shut, “don’t call me that.”

“Why?”

“Because I like it too much,” she whispered, “when you say it.”

“Alex, look at me.”

She opened her eyes, looking unsure of herself. You tried to give her a reassuring smile.

“Why’d you come see me?” you asked.

“To…” she trailed off, “oh fuck it.”

She tugged you to her, one hand splaying on your lower back, the other tangling in your hair until your head was tilted up to her. Your breath caught as her lips pressed against yours, insistent and needy. Your own hands slid around your shoulders until your arms were wrapped around her and you could press yourself against her without restraint. She hummed into your mouth, keeping you pressed against her as her tongue swept in, making you lose all thoughts from your head beyond the feeling and taste of her.

She pushed you back until you were stumbling towards the large bed. You fell backwards, squealing into her mouth, pulling her with you. Her answering chuckle had a heat spreading through you. You kissed her again, turning that chuckle into a soft sigh.

She shifted until her knees were either side of your hips. You gripped them, tight enough to leave bruises as she kissed you so thoroughly there was nothing but her. Her hair fell around your faces, like a curtain blocking out the rest of the world.

Her lips trailed down your neck and you arched up, seeking her out. You gasped her name when you felt the scrape of her teeth, the flick of her tongue. She sucked on your pulse point, hands beginning to skim down your body.

“Wait,” you gasped, “wait, wait, wait.”

She drew back, sitting back, her weight comfortable on your pelvis. Her eyes were bright and her lips were kiss swollen but there was worry marring her features. You reached up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering on her skin.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“What’s… what’s going on here?” you asked, trying to catch your breath.

“I should have asked first,” she said.

“Asked what?” You blinked, not sure what was going through her brain.

“To kiss you.”

“Alex.” Your voice turned gentle as you sat up, shifting her to sit beside you, “tell me what’s going on in there.”

She bowed her head. You ducked your head to look her in the eyes, placing your hands over hers to stop the way her fingers were tapping against one another.

“I really enjoyed pretending to be your girlfriend,” she replied, “more than I should have.”

“You did?”

She looked over at you, bottom lip caught between teeth. She gave a slow nod. You couldn’t stop the grin spreading over your face.

“Thank god I wasn’t the only one,” you said, a small laugh at the end of your sentence.

“What?”

“Alex, you must be the only one on the team who doesn’t know about the massive crush I have on you,” you said, still laughing, “Morgan called it within the first five minutes of my meeting you.”

“The first five minutes?”

“And tonight you were just driving me crazy in all the best ways,” you said, “the way you were touching me? I was ready to ignore the rest of the team and just demand you bring me back here.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not giving in to the impulse to touch you in that dress,” she said.

“Oh, you liked it did you?” you asked, swinging your leg over her body to straddle her lap.

“Honey, I loved it,” she said, fingers beginning to trail over the bare skin of your thighs.

“What did you love so much about it?” you asked, brushing her hair back. She inhaled sharply when your lips pressed to the soft spot on the underside of her jaw.

“Well, I thought the colour was very pretty on you,” she said, head tilting back to give you better access.

“And?” you asked.

“And I especially enjoyed how.” She made a small noise in the back of her throat when your teeth scraped along her skin, “how low cut it was.”

“Mmm I hoped you’d like that,” you murmured, “anything else?”

“I like being able to get my hands on these legs.” Her fingers dug in, that damned thumb running over your skin again, “I like these shorts too.”

You kissed her again, swallowing her moans as your fingers tangled in her hair, gently tugging. The feeling of her hands on your bare skin was making you squirm, her thumb brushing higher and higher, finding the soft skin of your inner thigh. You whined.

“How about I take you on a real date?” she murmured against your lips, “just us, no team listening in, no unsub to find.”

Your kiss was answer enough.

[leoncillo]

Oh god I thought my brain wanted a break. But I guess not? I just blacked out and this was in my notes when I came to idk y'all 🤷🏽‍♀️

SFW, GN reader (although I use "pretty"?), Black reader, Zohakuten best wingman

You notice the boys have been a bit listless so you decide to take them out. But individually. It must be tiring always being part of a group, right?

Sekido

Sekido jumps and nearly screams when the first thing he sees as he opens his eyes from his day time sleeping, is you straddling him, inches from his face.

"What the hell?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"

"Is that even possible?" you ask, pondering with your finger on your chin.

"What do you want, you nuisance?!"

"Get up! We're going on a date."

"Do you know how long it'll take those idiots to get ready? Why didn't you let me plan this ahead of time?" he grumbled.

"Oh they're not going. It'll be just me and you tonight" you said booping him on the nose.

His face heats up and his cheeks start to match his eyes.

"Hehe are you blus-ahh" you yelp as he grows flips you off of his legs.

"How rude!"

"Just...just go get ready yourself! We'll meet at the door in 20 minutes" he said as he marched off to the shower.

20 minutes later

You could feel all eyes on you as you walked down the stairs. You settled on dark distressed flared jeans and a modest white blouse with a cutout window with a black and white cross body bag and white tennis shoes. You decided to keep your makeup natural and to put your hair in a low ponytail to hang over your shoulder.

"You look so pretty!" shouted Urogi.

"You look lovely, dear" said Aizetsu softly.

"I might have to be jealous of Sekido for once" Karaku said, snickering.

You reached the bottom only to realize Sekido and Zohakuten were both missing.

"Wait where is he-"

"I heard that you green eyed son of a bitch!" said Sekido as you all heard him approaching the top of the stairs, only to get smacked upside the head by Zohakuten.

"Watch the language, goddamnit. You're going on a date!"

There was complete silence.

Everyone's jaw was on the floor as Sekido descended the stairs.

His hair was neatly combed and shiny, with a few strands out to frame his face. He wore a burgundy long sleeved turtleneck paired with some crisp black slacks and black loafers. A gold chain adorned his chest, a gold watch held his wrist, and a gold belt buckle around the front of his waist. Was he wearing earrings?!

"No way! I can't believe it! Hahaha" said Karaku, nearly falling off the couch.

"You look good, Sekido!" shouted Urogi.

"You clean up nice" said Aizetsu.

"All thanks to me. You're welcome, y/n" said Zohakuten.

"Y/n?"

You didn't realize you were still speechless until his well defined chest was right in front of you.

"Right. Y-You look amazing, Sekido" you said as you looked away from each other, both a blushing mess.

"Shall we go?" said Sekido as he held out his hand.

As you two walked to the car, you remembered that this was your idea, that you're in control, and mentally got your game face ready. You snatched the car keys out of his hand and motioned him to the passenger side.

"Aht aht. I'm driving. You don't even know where I planned to take you anyway."

Sekido grit his teeth, but nodded and listened. You knew he didn't like NOT being in control, so you kissed him on the cheek for playing along.

"Jesus can we just go?!" he said flustered.

After about 20 minutes of driving, you pulled up to a nondescript warehouse building on a side of town neither of you have been to before.

Even for a demon, Sekido felt a little weirded out as he looked at the building from top to bottom. "Are you gonna try to kill me or something?"

"What?! Nooo, silly. You'll see. Let's go!" you said grabbing his arm and leading him inside.

Inside there were several made up stations and soundproof rooms. A bored looking college student sat at the registration booth and looked up lazily at the two of you. "How long?"

You hummed to yourself in thought. "Two hours, please."

Sekido quickly glanced at you, still extremely confused. Was this some kinda love hotel or something? The thought made him start blushing again.

"Right this way."

The college student let you inside one of the rooms and pointed at the long aprons and face shields for you, before leaving you to it.

While you were suiting up, Sekido looked around the room at the mannequins and ceramic dishware and vases and the line of baseball bats hung on the wall.

"Y/n, what the hell is this?" he turned to ask only to see you launch a glass bowl at the wall. "What in god's name are you doing?!"

"It's called a rage room, honey" you said trying to pry the next bowl from his hands, "smashing stuff is the point!"

"I'm not completely following? Humans these days are so weird!"

You thought for a second, "Hey remember that one mission you were on when Urogi got too excited and blew all of the windows out of the building?"

CRASH

A plate went flying into the wall.

"I'm still paying the bill off for the damages!" he said growling and reaching for a vase.

"Now you're getting it! But hold back a teeny bit. You're still a demon, dude" you said, eyeing the dent in the wall.

"What are the fake humans for?" he said eyeing the mannequins.

You grabbed a bat off the wall. "Remember Douma at the last upper moon meeting?...or just him in general?"

The bat was out of your hands in seconds and smashing into the mannequins crotch.

"Yeah!" you said hyping him up and giggling at the growing grin on his face.

"Are you not gonna keep smashing?" he asked.

You usually solved your anger issues pretty easily, but you figured you could find something in this world to be mad at and shrugged.

You threw a mug into the air and hit it with a bat. "I hate parallel parking!"

Then, you sent a plate into a wall "I hate meetings that could be e-mails!"

Sekido's smile only grew wider at your display of anger as he continued his assault on the mannequins and you thought you heard a "Karaku" in his rambling somewhere.

"Ouch!" you stopped after a flyaway chip of ceramic somehow made it past your face shield and nicked your cheek.

Sekido dropped everything immediately and made his way over to you. "What? What happened?!"

"Eh. I'm guess I'm still klutzy enough to get hurt through a shield" you said going to touch the cut on your cheek.

"Don't touch it! Let me see." he said, as he held your face gently and looked you over before kissing the cut and turning away, "You'll be okay. Put some of that human ointment on so it doesn't leave a scar. Let's go home before you hurt anything else."

"Aww, Seki, you-"

"I said let's go home!" he said , storming out and hiding his face.