#thank you for payment boss

[satorusdiary]

hot rich dilf + babysitter reader

dilf! toji fushiguro x reader Mafia AU

age gap (reader is 21, toji is 39) + smut & fluff + reader is in college + toji is a rich man who lives a dangerous life

toji fushiguro.

the biggest mafia boss around Japan, a single dad, with one kid. he is also living in one of the most beautiful houses in Japan. the richest neighborhoods around on the hills, where no one is able to see it well.

whenever you would hear, see, or look at that name wherever you are in the city all you think about is hot, rich dilf.

it’s wrong to think of that, especially when you were the babysitter for his son. yet, toji couldn’t risk the dangers of his son being taken cared of in a public daycare; where anyone can take him and possibly use him as ransom.

that’s why he has you, his personal baby sitter. the young, beautiful woman who is still in college, taking care of his child. something his ex whore of a wife couldn’t do.

whenever you get a text whilst taking classes, your heart skips a beat and your thighs clench together at who the message is from.

Toji sent 1:23 pm

Hey, y/n. I’m sorry for the sudden message, is it alright if you babysit megumi around 4? I have important things to take care of at work.

he is a dangerous man, yet you would never back down taking care of his child. you are putting yourself in major risks, but whenever you would see toji’s frame holding megumi on his hip you think differently.

megumi is a different story, he is a splitting image of his father besides the scars. he’s a sweet boy, kind and respectful to you, and would constantly always want you over to his fathers house.

you enjoy his company, him and his father.

You sent 1:25 pm

of course, not a problem! my classes are ending so i’ll be able to be there by the time you’re about to leave.

Toji sent 1:25 pm

Great, thank you so much. I will double your payment for being able to take care of Megumi during a school day. Thank you again.

not to mention, how good the payment is! by the end of the day you are able to pay 3 months worth of rent for your apartment. there is never a time where you never have left over money for yourself.

you always think it’s a mistake by how much he pays you, how delusional you were missing all the signs he has given you.

the amount of times he would wink at you, with that sexy smirk on his scarred lips. the way he would love you out the way with a hand on your waist, carefully pushing you to the side.

and the way he gives you cheek kisses, saying it’s a friendly greeting towards everyone when he knows damn well he doesn’t kiss anyone’s cheek besides yours and megumis.

his hopes continue, his hopes in you falling for him continue to increase.

toji will always protect you, and megumi. even if you are just a baby sitter, to him you were more than that.

he appreciates the time you put in for his son, and for him. and he appreciates how you always manage to come to his house earlier than expected just to take care of megumi.

toji approaches you with a tight black suit, one that hugs his muscular frame insanely well. your thighs rub against each other without you noticing.

something that wants your heart is when he hold megumis hand, whilst approaching you. it’s cute and wholesome.

“megs, you be good for y/n okay? i’ll be back in a bit.” toji kisses megumis forehead, letting go of his hand before making his way towards you with a small, but seductive grin.

like always, he kisses your cheek before saying a word to you. your stomach has butterflies fluttering around, he continues to sweet talk you.

it’s funny, how could such a dangerous man who does unthinkable things everyday warm your heart in such a way?

“thank you so much, again y/n. here is the money, please be safe and help yourself around the house.” his green eyes pierce through your e/c eyes. his hands giving you a stack of money, more than usual.

your eyes widened, it’s too much. it’s almost as if you depend on him too much with the amount of money he gives you for what, just a few hours of you taking care of megumi?

"mr fushiguro, i cannot accept this. why are you handing me so much?" you questioned, looking up at his tall frame.

he shakes his head and chuckles, pushing your hand that was holding the money closer to your chest.

"its for you, and your hard work. don't question it, you deserve it sweetheart." the pet name slips out, but he has no shame in calling you that. you are his sweetheart after all.

before you could say anything else, he continues on. and continues to make you flustered with his words, and expressions.

"oh, and y/n dear, call me toji. no need to be so formal when you have done so much for me, and my son." he caresses your cheek before brushing past you, grabbing his hat and work jacket from the coat hanger.

"..thank you, so much toji! i will forever appreciate everything you have done for me sir." you smile up at him, waving him goodbye before he is out the door.

"not a problem, dear. you both take care, be back inna bit." he closes the door. the smile on your face hasn't left, and the fast speed of your hear beating increases as you lock the door with its additional locks.

you snap out of your joyful thoughts when megumi embraces you with his small, slightly chubby arms. they close around your waist as he looks up from your stomach with a heart warming smile.

"why cant you just get with my dad, y/n? he likes you soo much, and you treat us so well." he frowns, eyes glossy and filled with adortion.

your heart weeps, his stare makes you double think everything. what if you did get with toji?

"megs.. i don't think he likes me like that sweetheart. and its okay! its okay just being your baby sitter." you pick him up, placing him on your hip while you walk towards his play area. it was clean, free of toys scattered everywhere in the room.

"you're so wrong! i know he likes you a lot. he kisses your cheek, and forehead like me! that means he loves you." the word that holds so much power, and strength over anyone slips from his lips. yet he doesn't try to apologize and make it out as a mistake.

"not only that, but you are like a mommy to me. better than the other one, don't leave tonight. please y/n!" he cries out, hugging you as tight as he can.

you look down at him, sitting on the bed with a sad expression. you never knew how much megumi had actually cared for you. and it amazed you how good he was able to speak as a 4 year old.

"megumi,' you start off, watching as he looks up at you with teary eyes.

"i'll see if i could stay tonight, but just for tonight!" you tell him, his lips automatically curl into a big smile, before he kisses you on the cheeks. the same way his father does.

"yay! thanks y/n. now can we play, please?" he slips out of your embrace and begins pulling out toys from his drawer, handing you a big car which you take from his small hands.

"sure, megumi. if you want, ill take you to the park after?" you question and get on your knees, getting down to his level so you would be able to play properly.

he nods his head repeatedly, you wonder if his cheeks every get tired from smiling so much.

"yes! thank you y/n, you're the best!"

the day goes by fast, now you are sitting on megumi's bed, tucking him in before he goes to sleep.

"y-you're gonna stay tonight, right y/n?" the little boy questions, turning to look at you. the only source of light was the hallway lights, through the opened door.

you stay silent for a few seconds, giving him a hopeful smile that would make him feel better.

"i'll see, i still have to check in with your dad." you replied. deep down you knew you wouldn't stay over, especially when you knew it would be pretty weird to stay over at your bosses house, just for his kid over night.

you would just have to make up a lie by tomorrow, apologizing to the younger boy on why you couldn't stay over.

i'll say i had classes! yeah that is a good excuse. you thought to yourself.

"okay.. goodnight y/n." megumi utters, smiling before he closes his eyes and drifts off the sleep.

you stay in the same position, watching him peacefully drift off with his hand loosely around yours. after a few minutes, you knew you had to go home.

"bye megs.." you whisper, kissing his head before standing up from his bed, walking towards the outside of his bedroom.

you sighed and began walking down the hallway, towards the exit of the home.

“you’re not gonna stay the night?” a voice startles you, making your turn around with a hand over your heart.

“toji-san! w-when did you get home?” you nervously laughed, and breathed in heavily as he walked towards you.

your heart jumps to your throat as he looks down at you, the tension was high.

his hand reaches your shoulder, squeezing and rubbing over it seductively. a smirk appearing on his features, that stupid sexy smirk that makes your pussy heat up.

“don’t mind that darling. as i said, you’re not gonna stay the night? thought you wanted to be with megs?” the smirk turns into a small frown, making you rethink on why you were going to leave in the first place.

“‘m sorry.. i-i just didn’t think you would be comfortable with it.” you admitted, looking up at him with guilty eyes.

your hand clutches your tote bag, the both of you stay in silence before he speaks up. a kiss being left on your forehead, it drowns out the guilty feeling and lights up your features.

“it’s fine sweets. y’want to talk for a bit and have dinner together? i don’t mind you staying over, megumi has a strong liking for you.” he waits for a response.

it’s almost embarrassing to you how fast you nodded your head, yet toji chuckles at how dedicated you were towards the offer.

you did not go home that night, as expected. but what happened was something you never thought would happen at all.

you thought you would be in your own bedroom, but here you were. face flat onto toji’s pillows, and him behind you groping your body in many ways. his cock drilling inside your plush, tight pussy.

“you’re so beautiful, my love.” his words continue to make you cry, both ways. he flips you over so his hand would be able to wrap around your breast, and the other caressing your head as you take all of him inside of you.

“daddy— ‘s so good!” you cry out, mind getting foggy as you look at him with the most love and adoration expression he could ever make out. his heart melts.

he shuts you up with a kiss, tongues clashing together as his hands roam around your love handles, squeezing and slapping them.

you moan into the kiss, it’s muffled but he was able to hear it clearly. the sound was music to his ears, making him slam into you rougher and deeper, his cock abusing your g-spot.

you were just too beautiful, too pure for him. he couldn’t resist you. the day he met you in a coffee shop he knew he wanted you, and you would become his.

“shh, baby. can’t forget gumi is sleeping, hm?” he hums, pulling away from your pouty, swollen lips.

“sorry.. ‘jus feels too good. love your cock s’ much tojii.” you moan once again. your hand interlaces with his bigger hands, pinning you down on his large bed.

“i know, sweet girl. you almost needa cum?” he coo’s into your ear, large, muscular hand going down onto your stomach. your womb filled with toji’s hot seed.

you whine, nodding repeatedly and look up at him with desperate eyes. sobs leave your mouth, the bubbly feeling in your stomach begging to be released.

“please! need t’ cum, lemme cum daddy.. please!” you beg over and over, it’s adorable to him. the way you’re so desperate for him, and his cock. even if it’s bullying your insides.

arousal floods into your insides, the way toji lowly groans on top of you makes you see the stars.

“cum with me, my dear.” he moans out, hands gripping at your waist as he continues to slams you down on his veiny, hard, big cock.

just like that, you realease all over him. you hadn’t even notice you squirted. the feeling of toji filling you to the brim once again made your eyes foggy, filled with tears. thankfully toji was there to wipe away any tears left.

hot cum continues to spurt into your pussy, the feeling of your walls clenching over his cock so well makes toji’s feelings for you grow stronger.

“my beautiful, princess.” he whispers through heavy breathes. your heart beating even faster as his hands cup your jaw, pulling you into another heated kiss.

“starting now, you’re mine. my little girl.”

[writerslittlelibrary]

"Children aren't payment, dipshit"

masterlist

summary: the most feared mob in all of New York only has one rival, which happens to be your father’s mob. When it turns out he is indebted to the feared mob boss Natasha Romanoff, he uses the only thing he has to pay her, you…

pairing: Mob!Natasha x rival mob young reader

warnings: guns, violence, basic mob fic stuff ig :) 

genre: angst, fluff

words: 1339

a/n: this was an adorable idea! (I feel like this is trash, but I just have to get back into my writing flow)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It has always been difficult, being the daughter of a dangerous mob boss. It wasn’t like you were forced to kill and train with your father’s minions, but you had been living a far from normal life, to say the least.

When you turned seven, your father had called you into his office. 

You had always been a nice and obedient girl, totally opposite of your father, so when he called you to him and told you you were going to stay with your aunties for a while, you believed it. Your father had sent you and your bodyguard to your room, telling you to pack all your important items. 

Once you had finished packing, your father had given you a hug and you had been brought to the car, your bodyguard driving you across town. 

However, once the car stopped at a large apartment building, you had started getting a bit suspicious. This isn’t where your aunties lived…

Your bodyguard had taken you out of the car, but you didn’t want to, leading to him dragging you out, dragging you up to the doors of the building. Once you had arrived at the doors, two women were standing there. One had blonde hair, and the other had black hair. The women with black hair grabbed your arm, allowing your bodyguards to walk back to the car and retrieve your bag, handing it to the blonde women.

After he did so, he walked back to the car and drove away. 

The two women entered the building, walking to the elevator and pressing the button that read ‘PH’. As soon as the doors closed, the women with black hair let go of your arm. However, despite her removing her grip, you still didn’t feel like you could move freely. You were fairly certain that one wrong move and she would be on you again. 

And so, you stood perfectly still, refusing to move, even when the elevator moved a bit. 

The two women barely acknowledged your presence, instead opting to look straight ahead. You felt uneasy standing in between them. 

Once the elevator stopped at the top floor, the door opened at the women with black hair grabbed your arm again, leading you out of the elevator and to a dark wooden door. The blonde haired women walked ahead, knocking on the door twice before waiting for a “come in” to be called from the other side. 

Once the approval was given, the two women walked in, dragging you after them. 

Inside the room was another woman. You recognised her immediately. Who wouldn’t? Your father had always warned you about her. She was the most feared mob boss that New York, or the world really, had ever seen. 

You were in the office of Natasha fucking Romanoff. Were you about to get killed?

The two women walked a bit further into the room, forcefully pushing you down on the chair in front of the desk. 

You didn’t dare protest, nor did you say a word. You were absolutely terrified. Your father had warned you about this women every single day of your life, refusing to let you go outside without protection because of her, and now he had knowingly sent you to her. What the hell was wrong with him?

After you were sat down on the chair, the women with black hair exited the room again, leaving you, Natasha Romanoff, and the blonde haired women in the room. 

“Thank you for bringing her up Carol, you can put her bag in her room,” Natasha spoke, dismissing ‘Carol’ before focusing her attention on you. 

Carol left the room, leaving you and Natasha Romanoff alone. 

“I’m sure you must be very confused, sweetheart, but don’t worry, you’ll be alright,” Natasha reassured, smiling kindly as she stacked a few papers and put them off to the side.

You took a moment, gathering the courage before you spoke. 

“Why am I here…?” you asked quietly, hoping not to disturb Natasha or step out of line.

Natasha smiled, turning to you once more. 

“Your father made some pretty nasty deals. Deals that he couldn’t follow through on. He needed to pay me something, and he didn’t have the money, so I demanded you instead,” Natasha explained, leaving you to look at her with a shocked face.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, sweet girl. I promise you were are much better company than your father’s mob ever was,” Natasha stated, smiling sweetly before she moved to get up, walking around the desk towards you. 

She extended her hand, motioning for you to grab it. 

“How about we go check out your new room?” she suggested, allowing you a moment to think before you nodded and hesitantly grabbed her hand, allowing her to pull you up. 

She led you out of the office, leading you through the pent house towards another door, which was a different colour than the rest of the doors. The door was a beautiful dark shade of your favourite colour, and while you thought your favourite colour would never go with the aesthetic of the apartment, for some reason Natasha made it work. 

She pushed the door open, allowing you to step inside and take in the room. It was beautifully decorated and exactly your style. 

Your eyes widened in excitement, jumping up slightly. You weren’t able to contain your excitement as you saw the room. It was perfect. 

Natasha smiled as she observed your reaction, letting go of your hand to allow you to look around. You did, running from place to place to explore all the play items placed in the cupboards, ending your little exploration by jumping on the bed. 

“I love it!” you yelled out, letting yourself drop on the bed. 

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

You had lived with Natasha for about three months now, and you were happier than you had ever been. Natasha never hit you if you did something wrong, and she played with you everyday. She was willing to drop all her work if you asked her to play dress up, or if you asked her to play with your dolls. 

You had never been more loved than you were now, and you were happy your father had offered you as payment to Natasha Romanoff. 

Her henge people also adored you. You would play with them as well, and everytime they happily played with you. Your favourite were Carol and Valkyrie. They were the two women that had brought you in on the first day, and they turned out to be your best friends. 

Little did you know that Natasha had known you father hit you at home. She knew the mob boss of the rival mob was not just any criminal. He didn’t have morals, or principles. He did what he did when he felt like it. He wasn’t a good person to those he cared about, so when Natasha found out he had a daughter, she knew she needed to investigate. 

She had sent a hengemen uncover to find out more about you, and what was reported back to her shocked her. 

You were hit whenever you stepped out of line, and you were not well taken care of at all. Once Natasha learned about your situation, she decided she had to get you out, setting up an elaborate deal she knew your father couldn’t get out of.

When you father unsurprisingly failed to follow through on his end of the deal, he was in large debt with Natasha, and she knew she could demand anything from him. 

And so, she demanded she would get you as payment, knowing your father couldn’t do anything but follow through. 

Over the months she had build a soft spot for you, and she was more than glad that she had done what she did. She saved you, and now you were happy. 

Natasha Romanoff may not have been the best human being on the planet, but to those she cared about, she could not have been better. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @daddipantherr @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216 @ravensinthedaylight

[astr0-physcs]

an offer i could definitely refuse

t.fushiguro x m!reader

<you, a stripper for an underground club, catch the eye of a dangerous man>

{TW: slight dub-con, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, Daddy kink, brief mentions of alcohol and smoking, reader is a stripper}

WC: 5.1k

a/n: this too me so long but i'm such a procrastinator 💀

‼️NSFW UNDER THE CUT‼️

The intoxicating thrum of Shibuya nightlife beckoned, its seductive pulse a siren’s call to the lost, lonely, and desperate. A kaleidoscope of neon lights painted the streets, each hue casting long shadows upon the asphalt canvas, obscuring the lines between reality and fantasy. It was within this seductive world that you thrived, your vibrant aura and ethereal beauty echoed by the nocturnal glow of the city. You were a creature of the night, and the night embraced you with open arms.

Your chains clinked against your leather harness, hugging your body tight as you spun around the metal pole, the neon strobe lights reflecting off the metal adorned on your body. The routine for tonight was nothing special, so you danced normally, smiling like you were having the time of your life. Your co-workers mingled around the club, offering drinks and services to the paying customers.

Suddenly, you catch a glimpse of your manager, an elegant woman with eye-catching white hair in a diamond studded jumpsuit, walking across the back of the club. You try to narrow your eyes to see better. She's greeting a man, tall and muscular, and appears to invite him to her office.He smiles cunningly and follows her. Before you can take your eyes off of the scene, the man's vibrant green eyes glanced up onto the stage. You felt a shiver go down your spine, and you nearly messed up your routine. His eyes pierced right into your soul, and then they were gone. Muscle memory kicked in as you finished out your routine. The song ended and the small crowd close to the stage whooped and yelled. You flash a cocky smile at the crowd, then whisper to your partner that you needed a drink.

Scurrying off stage, you run to the employees only section and grab your water bottle, taking a much needed drink. The clear liquid dripped down your chin and you huff, wiping it on the back of your wrist. A door opens to your right, and your boss walks through, leading the same dark haired man from before. You nearly choke, spinning around rapidly to avoid more eye contact. You didn't turn back around until you heard her office door shut.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

“What could they possibly be talking about in there?” You think to yourself. Was he getting hired? Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you set down your water bottle in favor of tiptoeing quietly to the door, careful to not let the heels of your stilettos touch the ground. Pressing an ear against the door, you try to listen in on their conversation.

“—And the payment is all here.” That was your boss.

“Thanks, Mei Mei.” The unfamiliar deeper voice must be that man. “I should have this done by next week.”

You can hear your bosses frown in her next words. “You can't make it any sooner?”

“Oh sure I can. But that's gonna cost ya’.”

Your eyes narrowed. What a scumbag.

“Come now, Toji.” Her voice turned sweeter and deeper, trying to seduce him. Toji, you thought.

“Nuh uh, none of your sweet talk. Ya’ know that don't work on me.”

They knew each other…?

“Tch, alright. Please make this quick.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Footsteps approach the door quicker than you anticipated, and you try to back up as quickly as possible. The door swung open, and the big man walked out. He gave you a quizzical look, arching an eyebrow.

“What's this? An eavesdropper?”

His baritone voice reverberated inside your head. You stutter and go pink from embarrassment as he shut the door. “N–no! I was just getting a sip of water after my routine, I would never—!”

“Ohhh yea, I saw you up there.” He interrupted. “Y’know, for such a scrawny boy, you dance pretty well.”

Your mouth goes dry. Of course, people complimented you on your performances all the time. But the way he gave you such a backhanded compliment made you feel… weird.

“Thank you…?” You say, confused and took a second to take in his appearance . He was wearing a black compression shirt, releasing his toned body and white sweatpants. Not exactly club attire, but he wasn't here for the club, you thought. He towered at least a foot or two above you, his black hair was untrimmed and a mess across his forehead.

He grunts a response. The corners of his mouth twitch, the scar on the side of his lip curving upwards.

“A sucker for attention, I see.”

The blush coloring your cheeks deepens. “I am not!”

He chuckles at your defensive stance. “Right. Like you weren't just up there dancing your slutty heart out for all the attention from big, bad men.”

You were bright red now, his teasing words embarrassing you.

“I–I'm not up there for any other reason other than to make money. It's a job, not something I want to do for fun.”

Toji gives you a knowing look, his thin eyebrows raising slightly. He hums inquisitively and then sighs. He pulls out a cigarette and starts searching his body for a lighter.

You scrunch your face a little. “Smoking isn't allowed in the club. I thought Mei Mei would have told you that.”

His glance sent a shiver down your spine. Emerald eyes narrowed, he looks you up and down unimpressed.

“And a rule stickler, too. Not my type.”

He walks past you, out of the club's back room. You stare after him incredulously. What an ass! You think as you grit your teeth, stopping yourself from going after him. You take another sip of water from your bottle and walk back out onto the stage. The next pair's routine had already started, and your partner came up to you behind the curtain.

“Hey, where were you? You were gone for a while.”

You shrug. “One of Mei Mei’s clients was talking to me.”

She blinks, surprised. “Mei Mei never takes on clients.”

You shake your head. “Not that kind of client, I don't think. Mei Mei has a partner. I think they were discussing money or something.”

You trail off, glancing into the crowd fawning over the two dancers on stage. Another member of the club comes up behind you. He had long dark hair out into a half bun. His nipple piercings glimmered in the strobe lights reflection.

“Hey, I need your help on the floor. Satoru is going on break and you're up next.” He said, his voice smooth over the electro music. You nod your head and wait for Satoru to come towards the employee break room. He comes up to you and your shift lead. He hands you his tray, clad with a black and white checkered design. You take it from him and watch him and the shift lead walk into the back. You sigh softly. It was obvious they had something going on.

You wave goodbye to your coworker and head onto the floor, swinging your hips with each step. You walked over to the bar to get the next order.

“Hey, Nanami. Who's up next?”

Nanami glances at you behind the counter, his dark brown glasses hiding his intimidating eyes.

“Whiskey, on the rocks. Table 94.” Nanami stated bluntly. He wasn't the type to have a conversation with those who he didn't consider in his personal circle. You nod and glance to the table he referred to. You are met with those same predatory emerald eyes. Quickly breaking your gaze, you stare into space for a second. Nanami gives you a look.

“He's watching you.” He says, his voice a low murmur. “Do you know him?”

You shake your head. “No. He's one of Mei Mei’s clients. For money.” You specify.

Nanami glanced at the table. “He looks like a dangerous man. Be careful.”

You gave Nanami a grateful look and sighed softly.

He places the caramel colored liquid on the bar top. You take a deep breath, gathering your confidence. “Okay, okay.” You breathe. Placing the glass onto your tray, you begin walking towards those watchful eyes. A chill runs down your spine as you get closer to his table.

His eyes never leave your body. You put on a sugary smile, pretending you don't know him. “Hi there! Here's your order.” You place the drink onto the table with a slight clunk. You notice the cigarette was still in his mouth, now lit.

“I'm sorry, sir. Smoking isn't allowed inside the building.”

He arches a brow at you. “I know the rules here, doll.”

Your eyebrows twitch, annoyed with his carefree attitude. You still give him a sweet smile. “Please put it away.”

He scoffs. “Or what, babe? You gonna make me?”

You drop your smile. “I am just doing my job. I'll have to call the manager if you continue to disrespect the rules of the club.”

“You're gonna have to ask nicer than that, sweetie.” His lips curve upwards into a smirk. Your face glows red with embarrassment, lucky the club was dark and he couldn't see it.

“Please put the cigarette away.” You say, much more politely than you wanted to. He gives you a wolfish grin, taking a long, exaggerated drag and then blowing it in your direction. Your temper rose, your blood boiling. Before you could think rationally, you took the cigarette out of his mouth. He glanced at you, a mild expression on his dark features. His deep jade eyes never left your body, studying your face. You take the cigarette and throw it on the floor, stepping in it with your heel, smushing it into the concrete club floor.

His expression darkened.

“Listen, doll. Nobody disrespects me. Especially not a stuck up bimbo whore.”

You stiffened up with anger and reached out to slap him. With incredible speed, he caught your wrist and pulled, tripping you and causing you to fall on top of him. Your eyes searched for him wildly, and his lips went back to that wolfish smirk.

“I—”

He cuts off your protests with his lips against your own. You open your mouth to protest and he shoves his tongue into you. You squirm, but his massive rough hands hold you tight by your waist, forcing your thighs apart. He was greedy with his kiss, forcefully exploring your body with his hands. He tastes like cigarettes and you frown at the flavor.

A few seconds pass, before he finally breaks the kiss. He grins at you, noting how your cheeks were flushed and your breath was labored.

“Somebody enjoyed that.” He teased me. Your face went up in flames, scowling at him.

“You are seriously violating the rules of the club. Please let me go before I have to call my manager.”

Toji rolls his eyes. “I don't think Mei Mei will mind if I have a little fun. Besides, we have a deal in place.”

“What kind of deal?” You ask, curious.

He scoffs. “Wouldn't you like to know? Sorry doll, that info’s top secret. Not for cute little sluts like yourself.”

He flicks your nose playfully with his free hand. You wince at the impact and cover where he flicked you. He chuckles slowly, his hand on your waist tightening.

“Do you have any idea who I am, sweetheart?” he whispers slowly. You blink. He was right, you didn't know who this man was. Just that he was talking with Mei Mei. You shake your head. He chuckles, then laughs loudly like you just told the funniest joke.

“Oh babe… You are in for it, aren't you?” His scar curves up with his massive smile. You couldn't help but feel dread crawl up your spine like poison ivy. You swallow nervously.

“Don't worry, doll. I'll be gentle.” He coos. “Maybe…”

A soft gasp escapes you, your eyes going wide. Toji smirks and lifts your chin up with his other hand.

“Not like you're trying to leave anymore.”

You go red again and look away, all your previous confidence fizzling out quickly. Arousal begins to heat up in your core and you try not to close your thighs around his waist. He smirks up at you, getting in your face. His dark eyes sparkled with predatory mischief, and you bite your lip softly. He runs his thumb over your lip and laughs a little.

“Don't get shy with me now, baby. What's gonna happen when I see your entire body, free from all these stupid restrictions?”

To emphasize his point, he tugs on one of the straps to your leather harness. You blush again and open your mouth to defend yourself. The words get stuck in your throat and you look away your eyes sketching through the crowd of peoples, hoping something would distract you. Toji chuckles.

“You're so adorable, you don't even know what you do to me.” He coos again, tilting his head slightly. You look at him through your lashes.

“What do I do…?” You ask softly.

Toji raises both of his eyebrows, his smirk growing. “Somebody's being brave. You really wanna know?”

You nod, not breaking eye contact. Toji chuckles again.

“Alright, baby. I'll show you. Lemme take you to the back real quick.”

He effortlessly lifts you up, his hands on your thighs. You yelp and wrap your legs around his waist instinctively. He laughs in your ear, and you feel his voice reverberating in his chest.

“Where are we going?” you ask.

Toji gives you a confused look. “Don't you work here? We're going to a back room, baby.”

“O–oh, yeah…” You blush, embarrassed.

He laughs slowly, and begins walking down the hall labeled in glod letters ‘Private Rooms.’ You glance at Nanami at the bar, and he shoots you a worried look. You gently nod your head, signaling that you weren't in danger.

The hall was filled with quiet laughter, and the music was muffled. You subconsciously grip onto Tojis shoulders, and he laughs lowly.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I'm not gonna hurt ‘cha.”

You nod into his shoulder as he carries you into an empty room. The room looked like most of the other private rooms. There was a leather couch pressed up against the wall, matching the red aesthetic of this room in particular. There was a small coffee table in the middle of the floor with a lamp on it, emanating a soft glow. He sits you down on the lavish couch, his hands roaming from your thighs to the swell of your ass. Suddenly he slaps you, causing you to yelp. You push back from him, frowning.

“You said you weren't gonna hurt me….” You say with a pout.

“Oh yeah. I did say that didn't i?” He glanced away, pretending to think. You wiggle in his lap, your ass stinging. He roughly grabs your hips and forces you to stay still. “Keep still for me, doll— Yeah, that's it…”

You flush a little at the praise. Toji grins again, possessive and predatory.

“Yeah? You like that? Who's a good boy?” he says in a low voice. You bite your lip and glance away. He ‘tsks’ and harshly grabs your face, his smile fading.

“Look at me when I'm speaking to you, doll face. I asked you a question.”

“I–I am…” you mutter, your lips pressed together firmly. His wolfish grin returns.

“Good boy. I think you deserve a reward, don't you?”

You gulp and nod weakly, your body humming with anticipation. His smug expression gets impossibly wider. Jade eyes scan your body, unashamed.

“You really want me to tell you? Or d’ya want me to show you…?” He leans in, his warm breath fanning across your chin.

“That… That sounds good…” You agree, your voice shaky and breathless. Toji grins egotistically and his hands begin roaming your body again. He leans in closer to your lips and your breath turns heavy.

“Yeah?” He hums against your lips. “Where d’ya wanna take this, babe?”

You dont reply, instead opting to press your glossed lips against his chapped ones. You can feel his smile in the kiss, his hands gripping your hips tighter. You let out a soft whine that he immediately swallowed. The kiss is intense and full of lust and neediness. You're unable to fight your urges, an uphill battle. Your hips grind closer to his abdomen and he smiles slyly.

“Oh, sweetheart, don't you start without me.” His hands slide across to your thighs, spreading them over his lap even more. You barely register the sly hand traveling to your dick, before he gives it a harsh grab and you nearly choke. A moan spluttered from your lips and you broke the kiss, looking at him incredulously.

“Look at you.” He hums, possessiveness keeping in fond. “I could just leave you like this, drooling and panting like a fuckin’ dog.”

You could barely stop yourself from whining loudly. You grab onto his sleeves in a silent plea. He laughs and grabs you by the small of your back, pushing you flush against his abdomen. The friction makes you squeal.

“Ask me nicely.” He says lowly.

You swallow down your embarrassment and wrap your hands around his massive shoulders, burying your head in the crook of his neck. You open your mouth to speak, but a harsh hand grabs the back of your head, pulling you away from him.

“Look at me when you're speaking.”

You whine at the hold he has on your hair. He doesn't let go, and you open your mouth to speak again.

“Please, please don't leave me like this… N–Need you…” You feel hot tears well up in your eyes from the pain. He finally lets you go, and your head falls forward onto his chest.

“There's a good boy. Now, let's get you outta these stupid things.” His hands firmly tug your chains around your waist. You nod quickly and begin undoing your costume, throwing off all the accessories. All that was left was the shiny leather bodysuit. You blush. “Um…”

He gives you an inquisitive look. “Yes, baby?”

You swallow. “I… I can't get my zipper.”

He flashes his teeth. “Poor thing. Lemme help you, hm?”

His large hands briefly leave your body, but then skillfully return to your back. Warm fingers trace down your spine, causing your back to arch. He hums appreciatively. His hands slowly pull down the zipper, the sound cutting through the noise of your heavy breathing. You lean into his chest to hide your embarrassment, biting your glossed lip. As the zipper came to its end, Toji pulled the leotard down to your hips.

“Lift your legs up, baby.” He murmured. You raise your hips reluctantly and slide out of the costume, your heels falling off and clattering to the ground. Your now exposed dick twitched weakly and you glance away, embarrassed.

“There we go,” He hums appreciatively. He pulls your hips back down onto his lap, causing you to bounce. A whine escapes you and he chuckles. “I wanna see what I can make you do before I let you go. Now let's make sure you earn every penny I spent on you tonight.”

His voice was smug and arrogant, his hands roughly spreading your thighs. Your hips twitch slightly into his abdomen. He snickers lowly. “Let's see how much more I can make you shake, hm?”

You swallow and nod in lustful agreement. His smirk gets ever wider and he lets one of his scarred hands trails to your dick, already leaking, He wraps his hand around you, and you let out a mewl. He laughs darkly and begins stroking you, his veiny hands feel cool against your feverish skin. Your hips uncontrollably fucking his hand, soft whines continued to escape your throat and your eyes flutter close.

“Hey,” He snaps his free hand in front of your face. Your eyes blink open, hazy from lust. “Don't get shy on me now, sweetheart. I've just started.”

His hand moves faster, and you whine, trying to keep your eyes open. Your long lashes kept fluttering closed, succumbing to the arousal you were feeling. A hot feeling begins to build in your stomach and your hands grasp onto his shoulders. Your breath gets heavier and your moans get whiner.

“Yea? Gonna cum f’me? Be a good lil’ slut?” He asks condescendingly. You nod frantically, rocking your hips I time with his strokes.

“Beg for it.”

His voice was deep and taunting. His hand stops abruptly and he releases his hold. You whine loudly, rocking your hips frantically. Instinctively, your hand goes down to finish. Toji’s hand shot out to stop yours.

“The fuck you think you’re doing? I gave you an order.” His voice was hard, devoid of any previous lust. You flail helplessly on his lap, unintentionally grinding against his boner. He groans, and uses his free hand to slap your inner thigh harshly.

“Stop fuckin moving and answer me, slut.”

The sting makes you whine, and you finally pry your eyes open. “Pl—please… lemme cum…” Another slap causes you to cry out, the pain is a sharp contrast to the pleasure you feel in your core

“Wh—what? I asked nicely…” You pout, desperate for release.

“Yeah, well, I told you to beg. Do they just hire bimbos here?” He says degradingly. Your face goes red with embarrassment and you glance away. He roughly grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together. “You look at me when you're spoken to, got it?”

Your big doe eyes meet his dark pools of green, pupils blown out with lust. Your heart skips a beat and your hips tremble.

“Y—yes…” You mumble out. His arrogant smirk returns.

“Good boy. Now, does my favorite slut wanna cum in my hand or on my cock?” he asks in a renewed sultry manner. Your body jerks forward with his words, your face growing hot. His hand releases your cheeks, cupping your chin instead.

“I— I…” you stammer.

“Hm? I can't hear ya, babe. Speak up.” his deep voice drips with sarcasm, reveling in the way you squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment.

“Y—your cock… please.” You ask softly, gently open your eyes to be met with a cocky grin. He hums a little.

His free hand drops to the button on his pants, undoing it with ease, his erect member springing up. You gasp slightly at the sheer size of it. It must be 8 inches long, the shaft throbbing and leaking with pre-cum. It rubs gently against yours, causing you to whine at the friction.

“Does the pretty boy likes what he sees?” He asks. You nod, trying not to drool over him. “Look at you. You're like a puppy, drooling all over his treat. You want it?” You nod once, transfixed.

“Gotta earn it baby.” His hand slides down your chin to your throat. “Wanna hear ya beg for me.”

You swallow, feeling his hand trace down your throat to your collarbone. “Please, please, n—need it, please lemme…. Wanna ride it, Daddy—”

The name slips from your mouth, shocking both of you. He paused, stunned for a moment, your hands fly up to your mouth, embarrassment washing over you. “I— Sorry…” You say, muffled. You watch as his eyes darken impossibly so.

“Say that shit again.” He growled.

Your breath catches in your throat, unable to resist his demand.

“D—Daddy…” you mumble.

“Fuck… the shit you do t’me…” He growls and lifts your hips up. “You ready, baby?” He brought the hand that wasn't holding onto your throat to your clenching hole. He presses a finger against the puckered rim. “Gotta prep this slutty hole f'me.” He mutters before pushing inside. The stretch isn't terrible, but it still makes you whine.

“You like that? Think you can take more?” He doesn't wait for an answer before pushing another finger into you. You whine and clutch onto his shoulders, your chest pressed against his.

“Fuck—!” You squeak, your hips rocking back and forth on his fingers. The tip of his fingers touch the bundle of nerves deep inside and you jerk harshly, letting out a shocked moan. “Yea? Right there?”

Before you could say anything, he pressed his fingers into you deeply, hitting your prostate with each thrust. Your mouth drops open and your nails dig into his shoulder blades. Your previous orgasm that fizzled out returned with fire. You whine into his chest, your back arching lewdly.

“D—Daddy… G–gonna—” You warn him in between breathless whines.

“No you're not.” He says firmly, roughly pulling his fingers out and wiping them on your thigh. You squirm in need, accentuated with a slap on your ass.

“Needy fuckin thing arent’cha?”

You whine. Tojis hand gently pressed against your chest, pushing you back from your hold on him. You pout, but he just grins again.

“Gonna put it in.” He says in a low whisper. You can feel his warm breath on your ear. Your body jolts, and you barely have time to react before he's lifting you up by your hips.

“W–wait—! Be gentle…” you say in a lustful whimper. He gives you a predatory look.

“Gentle?” he repeated incredulously, his voice dripping with mockery. “How adorable.”

With that, he shoves his entire length into you at once. A shriek leaves your lips as you feel his cock rearranging your organs. Your hands tightly grab onto his shoulders, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Your orgasm washed over you befroe you could even warn him, hot cum dribbling out of your dick. He ‘tsks’ in disappointment.

“Didn't give you premission to do that, hun.”

You open your mouth to speak, apologize, but he silences you with a rough thrust of his hips. He doesn't give you time to adjust, grabbing your hips and slamming you down onto his dick. Your moans were high pitched and breathy, the pleasure bordering on pain. You try to take control of your hips, trying to slow down.

“T–Toji—!” One of the hands on your hips slap your ass hard. You clench on his dick and he groans.

“Told ya what to call me, didn't I?” He asked, a rhetorical question. You force a swallow down and he begins furiously pounding up into you again.

“Daddy—! T–too fast! Slow—!” Another harsh slap to your other cheek.

“Don't tell me how to fuck you, boy.” He growled before slamming his dick up into your prostate. You scream, the noises ending in porno-grade moans. You couldn't even bother to be quiet anymore, the pleasure lighting all your nerve endings on fire. Another orgasm welled up inside you, and you tried to ask for permission this time.

“Please—! G–gonna—!!” You sob, the pressure nearly becoming too much.

“You better not, fuckin nasty slut.” He mutters darkly, and watches you writhe. You try so hard to keep your orgasm under wraps, but with his dick hitting that special spot that made you see stars, it was an uphill battle.

“Gonna—! I Can't— Daddy, please—!!” You whine out brokenly. His dick twitched inside you at the pet name.

“Fuck, ya gonna cum all over me? Whore.” His words sent your mind spiraling, and you nearly lose yourself. Your eyes roll into the back of you head.

“D—addy, please…” You plead hoarsely.

“Fuck baby, cum all over yourself. Make a mess f’me.” His permission sent you spiraling over the edge. You back arched as your dick shot out hot cum. It dribbled down his abdomen and he made another noise of disapproval. “Gonna ha’fta clean that up.”

You barely register his words, writhing with overstimulation. “Too– too much—! Please—!”

You whine, but it falls on deaf ears. He keeps slamming your hips down onto his, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing through the room and probably down the hall. Your fingers begin clawing at his biceps trying to get him to cease. Pleadin bubbles up and dies in your throat, replaced by whimpers and soft, teary whines.

“Shut the fuck up and take it, why dont’cha.” Another rhetorical question The pain became overwhelming, but Toji didn't show any signs of stopping. “Fuck you're so tight for me. Gonna breed ya, get ya fuckin pregnant.” He growls, and sending another shiver down your spine. Your dick twitched weakly, more pre cum dribbling out of the tip.

After what seems like hours, constant slamming of your hips onto his, his dick twitches harshly inside you. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum. You'll be good and take all of it, yea?”

Tears flowed down your face, your dick twitching weakly. You nod, breathy moans escaping you.

“Say it. Tell Daddy you'll be a good boy…” He demands, slapping your red ass. You jerk forward and mewl.

“Be… be a good boy for, for Daddy…” You say in between soft moans. He gives you a wolfish grin.

“Good boy. Fuckin’ take all of it.” Was his only warning before his dick exploded with his seed, coating your pink walls white. He presses your hips flush again his, hurrying himself inside you. The sensation made you tip over the edge again, clear cum dribbling out of you. He rocks himself slowly, riding out his orgasm. With a huff, he pulls out, his cum spilling out of you. Quickly, he pushed his fingers back into your hole, causing you to whine.

“You got a plug on ya, baby?” He asked. You shake your head, voice hoarse. He tuts again. “Next time, come more prepared.”

You shudder and nod, exited there would be a 'next time’. He pulls his fingers out and unceremoniously wipes the cum on your thigh. You make a face.

“Oh, be quiet. It's whatcha deserve anyways.” He says coldly. He picks you up and sets you beside him on the couch, buttoning his pants. “Maybe don't be such a nosy eavesdropper next time.”

You had nearly forgotten why he had targeted you in the first places You nod tiredly. He stands up and makes his way toward the door.

“Same time next week. Don't be late.”

[cvntydazai]

underdog

when you and your boyfriend work for the port mafia, spending time together isn’t always going to be a top priority, especially when he’s an executive and you’re just an underdog.

pairing; chuuya nakahara x fem!reader

word count; 2.5k

content warning; heavy angst, fluff, cursing, lots of mentions of alcohol, bestfriend!dazai, miscommunication, unedited, slightly suggestive if you squint, chuuya is a sweetie pie who i love with my whole heart

a/n: my second post on here! i’m working on my masterlist and stuff right now but formatting that stuff can be so boring so it takes me forever.

you woke to the feeling of the cold morning breeze against your shivering body. the bed felt empty on chuuya’s side, as it always did. he usually left for work earlier than you did, claiming it was mori’s request that he be there at the crack of dawn but some days it felt like he did it by choice.

while chuuya was an executive under port mafia, you were simply an underdog, taking on miniscule tasks that don’t require the attention of any higher up. you tried to reason with your bitter feelings on the title, it was better to be out of the spotlight. so why did you want to be in it so badly?

your phone that laid on your bedside table rung, chuuya’s contact name stared back at you. with a sigh you reached for the phone and accepted your lover’s call. “hello?” you start, a moment of silence before chuuya speaks.

“hey, mori said there’s a job for you.” of course, mori wouldn’t waste time calling someone of such low importance so chuuya was tasked with it.

chuuya explained the details of the mission. it was simple, as they all were. you needed to collect missed payments from someone the port mafia worked with. you were also informed they weren’t hostile, that it was just to collect money.

“if you don’t feel comfortable going alone i can send akutagawa to go with you.” his concern was noticeable even through the phone.

“no, it’s fine. these kinds of jobs bore him anyways.” and they bore you too, but you never voice your complaints.

“okay, just.. be safe.” you agreed, ending the call immediately after.

you got ready in the time it took for the cab to arrive at your apartment. there was no small talk on the ride there, just the silent hum of lost radio signal on the stereo. this would take maybe an hour or two tops and then you would have nothing left on your schedule for the day. that’s how it typically went, no work of any importance.

“we’re here.” you thanked the driver and stepped out.

-

it took an hour and a half, only because the shop owner who owed money did not want to cough up the cash to pay his debts. eventually you had to threaten him, and he finally agreed to pay what he owed.

with the money in hand you headed for the port mafia in the same car you came here with. the same silence, same boredom. when you arrived there was no one to greet you so you decided to take the money up to mori yourself.

you passed akutagawa on the way there, he stopped you. “are you going to see mori?” you nodded, motioning to the suitcase that held the heaping amount of money. “just let me take it, i’ll let him know you went home after finishing the job.” he said, snatching the suitcase from you quicker than you could comprehend.

of course, you could never see the boss yourself. the higher ups had to always be the ones, why couldn’t it ever just be you delivering your work to your boss? it wasn’t fair, but you didn’t dare speak out.

“thanks, akutagawa.” he nodded, turning back to mori’s office.

when you reached the entrance again there was the same driver, you sat in the same seat.

“going home?” you thought about it for a second.

“no, take me to the nearest bar.” he complied without saying another word.

the nearest bar happened to be one you frequented, when you entered you were greeted by the bartender who was currently cleaning off glasses from previous customers. you took your usual spot at the center of the bar, ordering what you usually do. you drank in silence, playing with the hem of your coat while you thought to yourself.

the coat was chuuya’s gift to you after he noticed how much you loved wearing it. even after he handed it over to you, sometimes you would still put it on his side of the coat rack so it smelled like him when you wore it. he used to tease you about it, saying you could just start wearing his cologne too if you liked the way he smelled so much.

the coat that once kept you warm felt colder now. maybe it was because it had aged significantly since it was gifted to you and was now littered in holes, or maybe it was because you hadn’t properly seen chuuya in weeks and the coat doesn’t smell of him anymore.

he was always busy, always having missions to go on while you rotted away at home like the useless underdog you were. could being a higher up and risking your life be worth it, if it meant you could see him more?

“hey, stranger.” you knew that voice anywhere.

“hi, dazai.” you didn’t look up to meet his eyes, only feeling his presence sitting beside you.

even with dazai being in the agency now, he was still your closest friend. you still frequently saw him, usually to drink but sometimes to just talk. chuuya didn’t like it whatsoever but never made an effort to stop you. he would remind you that port mafia doesn’t meddle with the agency if it doesn’t have to, and you would reply with the same “i know” as you left.

he ordered a drink on his never ending tab and hummed a tune to himself. he was awfully quiet, so unlike him.

“you know i’m gonna ask you what’s wrong, right?” he broke the silence, and for the first time since he arrived you looked him in the eye. he saw the tears welling in your eyes and it hurt him to see you like that.

“is it chuuya? are you two fighting?” the only reason he could think of.

you let out a huff, taking the last swig of your drink.

“wish we were, at least we’d be talking to eachother.” you wiped your mouth, motioning to the bartender that you wanted another.

you could see the gears in dazai’s brain working in real time, deciphering your words like a case. you knew he would figure it out eventually, but all you needed right now was comfort so you gave into his curiosity.

“i want to ask for a job promotion, i’m so tired of being seen as a weakling in the port mafia.” you admitted, pulling your newly filled drink closer to you.

dazai didn’t seem the slightest bit surprised, his eyes held sympathy for you, you hated it. he cleared his throat, as if he was about to tell you the world was ending right then and there.

it felt like it was, you were losing your one and only love to a merciless job and no one in the port mafia took you seriously no matter how hard you tried to prove to them you could get work done.

“correct me if i’m wrong but.. is this really about wanting to move up in the mafia? or is it about wanting to see chuuya more?” he solved the case, just like that.

you didn’t bite back your tears any longer, letting them fall into your crossed arms as you sniffled. you were just about to take another gulp of your drink but dazai stopped you, giving you a knowing look, you didn’t handle your booze well and he knew it.

the alcohol wouldn’t solve your problems but maybe it would dull the pain in your heart. ignoring dazai’s pleading look, you drank again. nothing mattered right now, not even the hangover you’d feel in the morning.

dazai knew he couldn’t stop you, but at least he could watch you to make sure you were safe.

-

a couple of hours later and a few drinks down you were feeling the effects in full, your tears morphed into giggles and you felt on cloud nine. dazai had a few drinks in him as well, but not nearly as many as you. continuing to ignore his looks of concern you tried your hand at the dart board mounted on the wall ahead of you.

you were just about to take your shot when dazai’s ringing phone startled you.

“hey! i would’ve gotten it that time!” you shouted, slurring your words.

dazai rolled his eyes and accepted said call, already knowing who was on the other end without having to check the caller id.

“where is she?” chuuya’s harsh voice rang through the phone.

“the bar next to the port mafia building.” he replied calmly, ignoring the slew of curses from chuuya.

“i’ll be there in a second, make sure she doesn’t have anymore to drink.”

when chuuya arrived at the bar he walked onto the scene of you fighting dazai for a bottle of wine and the bartender watching with an unreadable expression. you wouldn’t have even noticed he was there if dazai didn’t greet him.

“what are you doing here?” you frowned, snatching the bottle of wine at last now that dazai was distracted.

“taking you home, put down the bottle.” he could tell you were shitfaced just by looking at you.

“i’ll go with you, but i’m taking the wine.” you reasoned, knowing chuuya wouldn’t be leaving this bar without you.

he agreed, sighing whilst digging in his pockets for his wallet. he slammed a wad of cash onto the counter, apologizing to the poor bartender who had to deal with two idiots the entire evening.

“i’m sorry about that, this should be enough to cover both of their tabs and the bottle of wine.” the bartender offered a smile of gratitude and wished chuuya a good night.

dazai followed the two of you out of the bar, hands stuffed deep in his pant pockets.

“do you.. need a ride?” chuuya asked, already regretting the simple act of kindness. you stood at his side, eyes trained at your feet with your bottle of wine tucked tightly under your shoulder.

“nah, i’ve got someone coming. i’ll see you around.” he took his leave, and chuuya quickly ushered you in his car.

the car ride home was silent, the only thing to be heard was your fiddling fingers. you wanted to say something, anything to break the tension but your brain felt like a melting pot of emotions. you were mad, yet you also yearned for him.

“i-“ you began, he stopped you.

“not right now, we can talk when i’m not driving.” if that wasn’t a dead giveaway that he was angry you didn’t know what was.

it was quiet the entire way back to your shared apartment. the anxiety bubbling inside you helped you sober up, you were still long gone. despite his obvious frustration, he still opened the car door for you and guided you up the steps into your home.

the second the door shut his mouth was moving.

“why didn’t you tell me you were going to be gone? do you have any idea how worried i was?” his voice raised and fired up, it sparked your own rage.

“well, i’m sorry i want to do something other than be your housewife.” a confused grunt left chuuya’s lips, never had he thought of you as his housewife.

his confusion only made you more upset, he truly had no idea how you felt.

“i’m sick of being here, never having anything to do.” you complained, walking into the kitchen to grab a glass for your wine.

chuuya followed you, a stern expression on his face as he quietly listened. he could see you were hurt in a way he desperately wanted to understand, but hearing you say you were sick of being home was like a bullet to the chest. this place was supposed to be a safe place for the both of you, had he done anything to give you the impression of otherwise?

“and no one in the mafia thinks i’m useful, not even you.” you mumbled, fumbling with cork screw that sealed the wine shut.

chuuya suddenly grabbed the bottle from your hand, now looking you dead in the eye. the grip on the bottle made the veins in his hand bulge, you weren’t sure how the glass hadn’t shattered from the force.

“who said that?” he asked, an unnerving calmness in his voice that worried you.

“said what?” you gulped, no longer worried about your wine.

“said you were useless.” silence on your part.

“no.. no one’s said it but i can feel their judgement. hell, even akutagawa thinks i’m useless.”

“akutagawa thinks everyone is useless.” he argues.

“not you, he respects you.” chuuya releases his hold on the wine, instead occupying his hands around your waist.

his touch is gentle, almost cooling against your flushed skin. he leans his head into your neck, breathing in your scent which you’re sure smells of a mixture of all the alcohol you’ve consumed. “and.. it’s not just that i want to be recognized more in the port mafia. i also want to see you more.”

your confession makes him smile, you can feel his lips curving upwards on your neck.

“is that was this is about? you miss me?” you’re half tempted to push him off of you now, his ego undoubtedly stroked. “why didn’t you just say that, sweetheart.”

“it’s hard sometimes, you’re always busy and i barely see you.” he hums in agreement, pressing light kisses your shoulders.

it was hard to stay mad at him for too long when this was his way of apologizing, drowning you in physical affection that melts not only your heart but your body.

“well, if you really don’t like where you stand in the port mafia right now, I'll talk to mori. no one thinks you’re useless, hell i thought you liked staying out of the dirty business.” the mafia itself was all dirty business, but you understood what the meaning was in this context. “and i’ll try my hardest to be home more, i never mean to be gone so long darlin’, work is just hectic sometimes.”

you turned to look at him, his beautiful eyes looking at you with all the softness in the world. “i know, i’m so sorry i made a big deal out of all of this. i just felt so lost.”

he understood, “don’t be sorry, you were hurting and i should have seen it. i’m sorry, i love you more than anything.”

“it’s okay, but i think that booze is catching up to me, i need to sit down now.” with a soft laugh he guided you to your shared couch.

the rest of the night he spent pampering you, making you two dinner and putting on a movie for you to watch in the living room. you laid there in peace, your head resting against his chest while his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.

for the first time in weeks, when you fell asleep beside him you woke to him in the morning.

[antivivziepopparade]

All of the proof that we have that Vivziepop is abusive. (So far....)

While you support this post please go ahead and support my channel to see more about Vivziepop's abusive behavior. Thanks!

1. She rushes her employees.

Season 1 was made in 2020. While Season 2 was made in 2021 while being released with MULTIPLE EPISODES only ONE year later.

That's-

INSANE!

-and im about to tell you why:

The average cartoon needs almost ONE WHOLE YEAR to produce one episode. And this is what we see in MAINSTREAM shows.

Meanwhile, Helluva Boss took only one year (and a half) to make MULTIPLE ENTIRE EPISODES that last over 20 minutes. The longest waiting time for an episode being 8 months. Not even a year, and we get multiple episodes off the drawing board.

You can even see here that it's taken only three years to make 16 episodes. When this is an indie studio, so this should have taken so much longer to make. Yet for some reason, it took only a few years for us to get full seasons. In 2021, we got over 4 episodes alone. Have you ever wondered why these episodes come out so fast while other shows take a lot longer to get new seasons? That's an easy question to ask... Spindlehorse...

Is being ABUSED.

And I have the proof to show.

2. The pay controversy.

Spindlehorse's payment has been under controversy for providing the lowest pay possible to those that work at the studio.

One piece of evidence was given by Adam himself (albeit unintentionally) by saying this:

This kind of pay is highly unstable! And before you say "But he didn't force them to be there-"

LOOK.

The employees themselves admitted that they had no choice. People had no choice and Vivienne Medrano took advantage of that for her own selfish desires. This is disgusting treatment of a studio as small as Spindlehorse. Or any studio for that matter.

Hell! chaifootsteps said once that once Zeurel released that he was paying his animators too low, he deleted one of the tweets showing the low pay and decided to do something to give his employees better wages. Meanwhile, Chimera Bunny pays even less than Viv does and just because paying your workers low is normal in the animation industry- plot twist: Doesn't make it ok!

People have suffered so much in this industry, it's why "New Deal for Animation" exists. The only reason you haven't seen many Vivziepop workers having protests and speaking out is because Vivziepop says things like this behind people's backs if they "dare" do anything she doesn't like:

So that explains as to why so many people remain as "anon" or say nothing at all because they got cold feet. Vivienne's terrible!

Especially since even her top employees have admitted to not being paid enough despite Adam's "I pay them to stay if they make us the most mon-ey!" claims from the article:

Also this:

This is how she speaks about her own employees:

"YOU DONT LIKE HOW I TREAT YOU?! FUCK OFF!"

Straight up abuse.

Also, wasn't Walt Disney known for abusing his employees?

To the point where people had an entire protest in 1914 about it?

Wow... such a healthy workplace treatment comparison. Doesn't make Vivziepop look more like a jerk.... at all! /s

3. She bullies kids/laughed at a sa victim that was sa'ed by her friends. As one kid was bullied into a panic attack (I know them personally) back in about 2020 and Viv decided to vague post about them behind their back even after they apologized.

For someone who's so focused on "forgiving despite cancel culture" she sure likes to blame and harass people for disliking even ONE thing about her show or herself. One thing- and you're harassed over making a meme about a cartoon with fictional characters (What Froot Did that set Vivziepop and Gumball off.)

Secondly, one of her friends sexually harassed a minor.

And instead of acknowledging the sa, Vivziepop wrote this:

She ended up calling it a "joke" and made fun of the victim involved.

This is outright abusive behavior that should not be tolerated.

Children don't deserve to be traumatized this way. Especially over something as simple as making memes about a cartoon (negative or not) or simply telling someone to stop fetishizing abuse.

More on this in this video made by Gummypop:

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND-

That's all that I have for now!

Will likely be updating this post in the future. Goodbye!

EDIT:

More evidence of Vivziepop using abusive language and slander against her employees behind their back. Claims of them being a "stalker" (like she did to Kedi and also its clear that she told her employees to say that Kaz was a "stalker" otherwise how else would they be saying these things after she fired them.) along with using abusive language such as "CUNT!" to prefer to Kaz this way in a professional setting I cannot. 💀

More evidence of Vivziepop harassing a kid:

ANOTHER edit:

More evidence, she's burning them the HELL out!

Yet ANOTHER edit:

More evidence of Spindlehorse being abusive:

EDIT:

Even MORE evidence:

The fact that the story AND the storyboards AND the animating for season one's episodes were all done in one year is just so crazy to me like... WHAT?! Either way, this post will continue to extend the more that I find evidence. So remember to look forward to that one!

EDIT:

Sadly no, as animation abuse is so common that the police dont even see it as an issue. The last time I tried to call the police on her they needed a location. The problem? There is no location of Spindlehorse since it's a "private" studio. So because of that viv gets away with abuse despite the obvious implications of her behavior and how many people came out with allegations towards her.

[togrowoldinv]

Fix

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Mechanic!Reader

When you get a house call to fix a car, you have no idea that your payment will come in the form of sleeping with the customer

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (r receiving), fingering (W receiving), Wanda thirsting over mechanic’s jumpsuit, needy Wanda

Note: Hehe this one is fun. Reader is a mechanic/handywoman/all around fixer of things (including all of Wanda’s needs). Enjoy this one!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

For the summer, you have picked up odd jobs here and there to build up funds for when you go back to college. You cleaned, babysat, and even worked at your family mechanic shop these past few months.

Before fall really began, you decided to go on one more mechanic’s call. It was guaranteed to bring in significant funds for your semester ahead, so you figured why not. But as you stand in front of the house, you realize why no one else wanted to take this call.

You heard from talk around the shop that Mrs. Maximoff wasn’t an easy client. She was intimidating and could be quite evasive with her payments. You had seen her around town before bossing her kids and her husband around.

But still, you take a breath and knock on her door. You need the money.

The door swings open a moment later to reveal Wanda. She is wearing a blue blouse with an apron over her waist. You haven’t seen her up this close before. She is beautiful.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m here to fix your car,” you say.

“Just you?” She asks, glancing to see if anyone is with you. When she sees it’s only you, she shakes her head.

“Yes ma’am. I can get to work if you show me the car,” you say.

“Just a minute,” Wanda says. She sounds annoyed by your ask.

Wanda disappears and returns a moment later with no apron on. She has the car keys in her hand. You step to the side to let her lead the way.

“My husband runs this car too hard,” Wanda says. “I think it’s something with the transmission?”

“That’s what we were told, yes. But I can do a full workup if you would like,” you explain. You hold your hand out for Wanda to give you the keys. She hesitates.

“Are you sure you’re qualified?” Wanda asks you.

“I guarantee it, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say.

The way you say her name makes her stomach burn with a feeling she hasn’t felt in years. She hands you the keys, and you take them with a polite smile.

“I’ll be inside if you need anything,” Wanda says.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

You get to work on the car. It is a transmission issue, which you know will take a while to fix. You waste no time getting out your tools and parts from your truck. Luckily, you have fixed this issue before.

You’re so focused on the car that you don’t notice Wanda watching you from the window. She is still cooking, but she steals glances out to see you bending over the hood of the car. It’s making her feel unsettled. She feels downright on fire when you pull down the top of your uniform and wear only a tank top over your chest.

After a couple of hours, Wanda makes some sweet tea and walks out the door with a glass for you.

“How’s it coming along?” She asks. Her voice startles you a little bit, but you recover quickly.

“Just a few more hours, and she’ll be good as new,” you say. You turn to face her. Her short hair rests perfectly around her soft face. Her green eyes shine bright in the afternoon sun.

“For you,” Wanda says, holding out the glass of tea.

“Oh- um thank you,” you say. You’re suddenly aware of the grease on your hands. You feel like you shouldn’t touch her glasses. When you try to rub your hands clean with no avail, Wanda holds back a chuckle.

“Here,” she says, stepping closer to you. She brings the glass to your lips and tips it just enough for you to take a sip. The sweet liquid refreshes you quickly. Wanda seemingly knows when to pull the glass away from your lips.

“Thank you,” you tell her. “That’s really delicious.”

Wanda nods in agreement. She knows it is. She lingers as you look back to the car.

“Well, I should get back to work,” you say.

“Right, of course. Let me know if you need anything, sweetheart.”

Your heart jumps at the term of endearment, but you try to ignore it. All southern ladies talk like that, so it didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything.

Wanda goes back inside and tries to busy herself with chores, but she finds herself looking at you again. The grease all over your pants and hands do way too much for her. She decides to give up on her chores. There was no use.

You finish working on the car about three hours later. Wanda is on the porch when you finish. How long had she been there?

“I’m all finished, Mrs. Maximoff,” you tell her. You approach the stairs, and she makes no move to stand up from the porch swing. You step onto the porch.

Wanda’s eyes rake over your arms that are muscular and the way your collar peeps out from the tank top. You feel her eyes on you.

“Do you want to come in and wash up?” Wanda asks. Her eyes meet yours.

“Oh, I really should get back to the shop,” you say.

“But you’re all dirty,” Wanda says.

“The truck is too,” you reason with a laugh.

“Come wash your hands at least,” she says. She won’t take no for an answer. You nod and follow Wanda inside.

She walks you to the kitchen sink, where she goes as far as putting soap on your hands for you and turning on the water. Wanda watches intensely as you wash your hands clean. Her mind can’t help but wonder what else you can do with those hands.

“Thank you, Mrs. Maximoff,” you say.

“Oh, you can call me Wanda,” she says. “And it’s no problem. Here drink some more tea.”

You take the glass with your own hand this time. She watches as you swallow the drink down quickly.

“Before you go,” Wanda begins. “Do you know how to fix a leaky faucet?”

You noticed the sink had a slight leak when you turned the water off.

“I do,” you say. You glance at your watch. “I can take a quick look.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Wanda places a hand on your arm and rubs it slightly. You wonder if she notices you shiver.

“I’ll just go get my tools,” you say.

Wanda waits for you to return. She decides she will make a move. Life is short. Why not?

You come back inside, and Wanda sits up on the counter next to the sink. Her legs are spread a little unnecessarily wide. You can see up her skirt when you kneel to look at the pipes below the sink.

“Do you see where it’s leaking?” Wanda asks a few moments into your investigation.

“Not quite yet,” you say. “I may have to turn the water back on to see.”

“Won’t that get everything wet?” She asks. You can’t exactly identify the meaning of her tone.

You stand back up and see Wanda has spread her legs even wider. Her hand is between her legs, and she bats her eyes at you.

“Mrs. Maximoff- um- Wanda,” you begin. “I really should-”

“You should fuck me,” Wanda says. “Please?”

“Oh,” you don’t know what to say. Here is this beautiful woman waiting for you. “Won't your husband be home soon? And the kids?”

“We’ve got time,” Wanda says. “Please sweetheart, I was watching you all day. You are so hot and so good with your hands.”

Wanda lifts her skirt over her hips to reveal thin, lacy white underwear. They leave very little to your imagination. She makes grabby hands at you, and you step closer to her. She holds your biceps in her hands. Wanda leans close but stops short of your lips.

“You’ve been keeping me achy and needy all day, baby. Can you fix it?” Wanda asks.

“Yes- yes ma’am,” you say.

Wanda rewards your answer with a kiss. Her movements are deliberate as she moves her tongue into your mouth. You kiss her back and rest your hands on her hips.

“Oh, fuck,” Wanda says once she breaks the kiss. “I need you.”

“You’ve got me, ma’am.”

You move your fingers to pull her panties to the side. Her folds are wet with her slick. You run your fingers over her and then lick them. Wanda’s hips jerk up at the sight of you tasting her.

“Delicious,” you say, putting your fingers back over Wanda’s pussy lips.

You push past them and insert your fingers into her one at a time until she’s taking three of them. Wanda makes the most beautiful sounds as you move in and out of her. Your other hand pushes up her shirt. She lifts it over her head and unclips her bra.

Your mouth switches between her nipples and her lips as you continue to finger her. Wanda grips your arms tight as you fuck her.

“So wet and tight,” you tell her. “So fucking good, Mrs. Maximoff.”

“Fuck,” she mumbles. “I’m going to come.”

“Come for me, Wanda.”

Her hips move erratically as she feels herself let go for you. You don’t relate your movements during her entire orgasm. She looks perfect as she reaches peak pleasure.

You kiss her lips softly and move your fingers out of her. When you go to put them in your mouth, she stops you. Wanda brings them to her mouth and sucks each one as she keeps eye contact with you.

“Fuck,” you groan at the sight. You feel your own body aching.

“I want to taste you,” Wanda says.

You help her down from the counter, and she drops to her knees in front of you. She slips the jumpsuit further down your body to reveal your pussy to her. Wanda moans as she brushes her nose against your clit and begins to lick through your folds.

“Mm, I love the way you taste, baby,” Wanda says. “You’re just perfect.”

You let yourself get lost in the feeling of Wanda eating you out. It’s never felt this good before. It doesn’t take her long to bring you to an orgasm, especially when she adds a finger to work with her mouth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan as Wanda cleans you up.

You pull her up and kiss her deeply. Your tastes intermingle on your tongues. Wanda runs out of breath first, but you keep trying to kiss her. She chuckles.

“I don’t even know your name,” Wanda says, resting her forehead against yours.

“Y/n,” you supply.

“Y/n,” she tries it out. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you say, a smile on your face.

You hold Wanda against you for a few moments before she tells you she has to clean up. You help her get dressed and kiss her once more before you exit the house.

“Hey wait!” Wanda yells after you. You turn back around. “I didn’t pay you.”

“Consider it paid for,” you say. “Call us again for anything you need fixed, alright?”

“Anything?” Wanda teases.

“Anything, Mrs. Maximoff.”

No more than two days later, Wanda makes her first follow-up call to you. Turns out you got so caught up in her that you hadn’t fixed her sink. Or maybe you didn’t fix it on purpose.

Either way, you can’t wait to see her again.

[iznsfw]

Manic Robotic Dream Girl

IZ Days of Christmas 2023: Day 4 - Choi Yena

IZ*ONE's Choi Yena x Male Reader Smut

8,311 words

Neon lights dance like flames around you. There’s no need to touch them when you’re already burning. Burning with something that’s not a fever but a kind of pain that never goes away. 

Sweat pricks the sides of your face and you’re aware of the blots of perspiration running down your jawline. Nights at the Rogue are often hot, but then they surprise you with a sudden burst of windiness, so you never bother to take your coat off. Whatever and wherever, you’ll always be here yet you’ve not once been able to predict the temperature.

That’s what happened when WAKE12 took over. 

Apparently, they decide if people are under the weather by controlling it by them-fucking-selves. Kwon feeling shitty? Looks like rain then. Maybe she’s feeling happy? Alright, let the clouds find balance. Angry? Take a fucking hailstorm. What a privilege, one bigger than the lives of the rich men in the North. But everyone forgets about that fact after she sends out minimal alms—canned goods, a Bible, something. Then it’s back to President Kwon is the best! President Kwon can never fail us! President—

“Vodka.”

“Same as yesterday?” asks Yuri, smiling a little bit. 

“Same as yesterday.” For a hologram, Yuri can be quite the social butterfly. 

Online wallets are all the rage nowadays. The AI voice in your head offers you said option to pay, and you can hear your balance privately spoken. Somehow your brow prevents from creasing as you hear it. You lack funds but somehow have a few extra bucks to drink. 

Choose that. You want to save your Wizes for other things. Lock eyes with Yuri and your balance goes down. You’ve paid. 

Online and digital wallets modified with embedded signals and readers were in use before you were even born. Of course, there were already such payment options in the twenty-first century, but how WAKE12 changed everything, not just ordering options with telepathic payment, can easily be read in a sixth grade history textbook. 

In October of the year 2918, Kwon Eunbi rose in the ranks as a scientist and soldier for Kang Hyewon, former president, and ended up working her way into dictatorship. The textbooks and classrooms teach that she proposed a law to the court and got herself a position for her wit and intelligence. But early first accounts challenge that, saying that she caught the eye of Kang and had a sexual relationship with her. WAKE12 branded this as propaganda that sullies the name of not only the dictator but the one of the late president, who died mysteriously before Kwon rose to power.

Massive backstory for cashless payment, but you know there’s more to it than the government would like to let on. What happened to Kang? What made Kwon so evil the moment she sat in her presidential throne?

“Thank you, sir.” Holograms all have different voices; Yuri’s sounds like she’s singing. At least the bartender slash boss hired her instead of those with monotone, emotionless ones. It’s cheaper to have hologram workers than humans anyway. Less money, less emotional labor, less of feeling like a normal person.

A beggar curled up below the counter holds his hand out. Not an uncommon sight in the Auster, but it’s a pity to see. The world has advanced with its telepathic wallets and 3D holograms yet there will always be individuals who haven’t caught up with time. While the North Rogue leads worldly lifetimes, the Auster is a home for the rejects. The poorest of the poor. The somewhere-in-the-middles. It can never be truly a perfect world if advancement doesn’t include everyone.

Give him a Wize. Back then, that would have been worth a hundred or so dollars, a currency long gone. Not that you’d know of it; WAKE12 claimed leadership way before you were born so the cheap value of the coin studded with the bust of Kwon Eunbi is all you’re accustomed to. 

Take your drink and thank Yuri. 

The cobblestone is rough beneath your feet. You take your seat at your usual table. Float your fingers around your shotglass. Pour the contents down your chapped mouth almost all in one go. Anything to feel something. Anything to feel anything. 

You’re not an alcoholic by any means, though that’s certainly up for debate. But there’s a need for the liquid that rages more than the need for oxygen (the fucking shortage of it) or food (the fucking expense of it). How else could you be less numb? You’re welcome to every feeling at this stage, just not this empty neutrality that slumbers your senses.

Pain? Your throat seizes up when you drink and brings tears to your eyes, so there's that. 

Happiness? Hm, none. You’re barely smiling. You’ve no family, little friends, and no partner for the last few years. There’s nothing to be happy about.

Anger? The displays of people fined harshly for their crimes on the big as life advertising screens stir some defiance in you. WAKE12 doesn’t take kindly to hacktivists and young coders dabbling in creating their own AIs. You have your own anti-government opinions, but what’s a human mind against an artificial one? Plus, and probably a less serious reason (tell that to the thousands who flock to the hospitals because of asthma), the air is almost always polluted here in the Rogue. It’s dirtied by car smoke and factory remains. You’d think that robots taking over the labs would improve it. Perhaps they weren’t programmed that way. 

Loneliness?

You look around. See the glitching phantoms of new world technology make the drinks breezily. Watch the light-studded train filled with commuters from the Auster. Kwon Eunbi managed to build an underside track for additional trains to run and still the commuters—young students, old grandparents, not young but not old workers whose jobs belong to WAKE12—wear the same tired look you saw yesterday. All you could hear are buzzes and uncanny valley voices from holograms.

The second chair paired with your table is empty. You’re suddenly lucid to the fact that it’ll always be like this. These nights of drinking and walking in the Auster Rogue will be endless, and just the same, you’ll be endlessly alone.

Sometimes mortality could be so depressing.

So depressing that it makes it all so meaningless.

A man stumbles over to the outside bar, breaking your thoughtless reverie. His clothes are as black as the night you spend but you can see blood on the fabric. The skyscrapers provide enough light for you to see his red face from anxious internal and worrying external blood. The pleading look grips his expression like a malfunctioning robot’s limb. 

He’s looking back as if afraid of what might be there. The rain-soaked road is tread on roughly by his shaking knees as he crawls his way to the bar. “Please, help me!”

“Warning,” comes the voice in your head, and you know the other visitors hear it, too, “a criminal of the state is in your proximity. Proceed with caution.”

WAKE12 always keeps an eye on those who threaten them. They have goons everywhere. The kindly grandfather down the street could be a veteran waiting for the chance of a medal. They have ears everywhere as well. Undercover cops stay in both crowded and clear spaces to identify possible threats. When it all comes down to it, you’re not safe in your own head at all. The implants can detect when you dream up something terrible. That’s how millions lose their reputation. Their jobs. Their families.

Their lives.

He staggers to the counter, crashing glass that shards his palms, and lets out this wail you’d hear from an abused pup. “Please,” he croaks. “Don’t listen to them. I just need somewhere to hide. I did nothing wrong, nothing!”

The implanted voice in your brain says otherwise. Everyone was given one when the Cyber Age came. That’s what makes a tiny difference in seeing who’s human and who’s not: the tiny, diamond scar below their hairline from the operation. Close inspection can’t always be done, however. Nowadays, too many of these robots and holograms pass the Turing test. You can never truly trust someone.

“Offenses include: playing the role of an accomplice in theft of government data, distribution of terrorist propaganda—”

“Get the fuck out!” says the bartender, having burst out from the back. As a longtime visitor, you haven’t seen him this angry, but you know it stems from fear. No one wants to associate with a criminal. No one wants the association to lead to arrest and the arrest lead to god knows what. Hundreds of people go missing after they’re taken under custody. What Kwon does to them, you don’t know. “Leave or I’ll call the cops!”

Like you said, they lurk everywhere. You’re surprised they haven’t caught up to him.

The bloodied man shakes his head, like please, please, someone believe me. “No, I’m not a criminal! Listen to me, please, I don’t have enough time! They just wanna—cut down” 

Rapid footsteps. Sigh and put your glass down. There they are.

The man reaches for him, but the bartender shoves the whole table into his face. He falls back on the ground and cries out for help that never comes. Men and women wearing tight black uniforms and vests pull him up. Their lit helmets that opposingly disallow a view of their faces make them look emotionless. Like robots.

Huh.

While resting your head against the metal chair, you listen to the struggling shuffles of the police and criminal, and see the glitching robots walking down the road. No real emotion, no real living.

He scratches and screams and sobs, but that doesn’t matter to them. They pull him along the rocky cement and recite his nonexistent rights to him. There’s the right to remain silent (he’s screaming), the right to an attorney (nobody in the Auster can afford a good lawyer much less an honest one), and the right to live freely if found innocent of the crime (someone getting convicted happens more often than being released).

Besides, it can’t be called living when it’s in a place so completely devoid of any humanity.

“In more ways than one,” you say. Fuck it, you’ll drink to that.

-

Like always, you take more than you should. You believe by now you’ve built some kind of immunity. That’s what they all think, you remind yourself, before an inevitable death that buries them in the ground one bricked shot at a time. You swear you’re not dizzy at all or feeling the acid build to your throat, so the sight gathering just a little away from you is real. 

Stare at your glass. Space out if not for what you see: behind it, a shapely form of a woman in purple. The blue and violet lights make it difficult for you to distinguish it from her clothes so she actually looks naked. That shocks you more than the arrest. You’re sure she’s got a little modesty in her because why else is she making her way to a table?

Your table?

It’s like she teleported when she’s suddenly seated before you, filling the chair that’s been empty for the last more or so years. You don’t even get the chance to look up at the right time, but the moment you do, you think keeping your eyes on your glass would’ve been better for the sake of your heart.

YENA.

Her name appears in your mind and she hasn’t even introduced herself. But it’s right there, emblazoned in lights in all capitalized four letters: YENA. This girl is Yena. And this girl—this fucking guilty pleasure of a girl—is gorgeous.

The ends of her hair are tinged with blonde, and it’s hard not to give attention to that with how her locks are gathered into twin tails. She smoothes them before looking at you quite seriously, like she’s about to propose a challenge you’d lose.

Blue shining eyes. There’s something odd about the way they twinkle below her bangs—almost like something not human. 

Yena dances her fingers around her jawline, elbow resting on the table, and tilts her pretty face. Lets her fingers play with her lips that are made for things the Auster’s known for providing (she can’t be from here though; those crocheted coordinates look costly). That’s how you notice that fine feature. Naturally thick and casually jutted out in a distinctive pout, your eyes are glued to them. Can’t take your prolonged stare away if someone helped you. 

“Are you waiting for me to start talking?” Yena asks. She’s not angry, just amused—her voice is smooth and clear, with a tiny pitch that makes her all the more cute. 

You shake your head. “Was just trying to figure something out.” 

“And that is?”

“A lot of things,” you state. Things you’d keep a secret forever, lest you spill them out to a girl all for the payment of being beautiful. “But I’m not sure pretty girls like you would want to know.”

You try to keep your curious peering at her normal, but it’s difficult when she just attracts attention. She’s a glowing lightbulb in a flutter of moths. Yena doesn’t flicker weakly; she shines, and it’s honestly why everyone else is “subtly” looking at her, this gorgeous stranger who came in and somehow chose the alcoholic who came from places more rock bottom than the Auster.

She laughs. It’s sobering—you think you’ll get drunk on her rather than the cheap alcohol. “Is that what you think of me? Too beautiful to think too much?” 

Look her up and down. Yeah, you want to say, that’s about it. It’s not out of offense but rather the instinct in you that wants to tell her you don’t want to put her in a worried state. She’s too… ah, she doesn’t know what you’d do for a girl like her—someone too unreal to be human but too genuine to be the “living” dolls lonely men purchase. Someone who can keep a conversation going without fearing a low blow. Someone who’s out of your league in the Rogue’s mixed pool but chooses you anyway.

“I’m just saying you might not want to hear a stranger boring you with his hard problems.”

“Oh please,” she says, waving it off with a flick of a pointed wrist. “You know my name. I know yours. We’re not strangers anymore.”

How did you—how did she—

Her eyes twinkle again. They’re… violet? You could have bet they were blue. But then you see the suspiciously smooth and clear skin, with the perfect lines of her eyelids, which curve as if manufactured in. She’s definitely not human. 

“Besides,” adds Yena sweetly, “you’re really underestimating how good I can take certain hard things.”

Swallow. You opened the door, now you’re locked in. 

Yena catches the bob of your Adam’s apple and smirks. Traces her fingers over yours. She can’t be human for sure yet you feel the softness of her hand, the only thing giving you doubt being how chilled her touch is. It's humid here, so where did that come from? Goosebumps pop up in masses across your skin—note how nothing shows up on hers.

Maybe she’s just a confident woman.

“Come on, I dare you.” 

“Only if you go first.” 

“Yes, sir,” she says. A cutesy saluted hand positions itself before her temple. Her hands are tiny, could be dainty, while her cheeks lift to support an adorable smile. 

Your knees tremble. You don’t know where that came from either. Yena just knows what to say to get to a guy. Almost like she was made for it. There’s that question again, resurfacing in your altered brain: is she human or not?

You lean back. Cross your arms. Here you go, on your way to find out. “What’s your story?” 

Yena shrugs, her shoulders bare and smooth. And you’re thinking of how you’d like to see the rest of them, the rest of her body naked by pulling down the crocheted strap of the purple coordinates. How you’d like to touch those puffed up cheeks and not care if they’re real or not when you pull her close to kiss her. How those lips—

“Don’t have one.”

“Sorry?”

She laughs. Even the way she giggles is attractive.  “No, seriously,” she replies, licking her lips. “There’s nothing interesting about me. I’m the most normal girl there is.”

There is nothing normal about her. Everything she says is too prepared. The largeness of her eyes gives everything away. Her hair is combed too finely that you’re not unconvinced that it isn't human hair at all, though you can see them connect at the roots. It’s like someone drew a cute animated girl on a notepad one lonely night, sent the idea to a rich bastard, and brought her to life.

So no, you’re not buying it.

“So you’re saying you’re just a blank canvas.”

“If you put it like that, I guess.” Yena rolls her eyes. You’re a bit obsessed. “Guys want that, right? A blank piece of a girl they could shoot more than a shot at? Maybe paint her white?”

You’re thankful you didn’t continue drinking. Otherwise, your surprise would be visible and audible with the lodge of your throat as you wineboard yourself.

The side of her mouth raises. A soft dimple exceeding cuteness—it’s deeper, brighter, shinier. You imagine her as a college student, charming boys into submission just with a wink and a smile that can melt hearts and bring guilt to lust-addled minds. 

That’s what she’s doing: Yena is melting you because of how adorable she is, but then you take a look at her body, note the fine curves it boasts, and feel the need to go to a confessional pastor. You’re not supposed to repeats in your mind, but you’re you—if you aren’t supposed to do it, then of course you’ll do it anyway.

“Woah,” you say with a nervous laugh. “Woah.”

“Look.” She rests her forearm on the table and talks so casually one would think she weren’t just talking about getting cumshots. “I‘m not taking that back, so do with that what you will.”

Under the table, behind the scenes, her leg is curled around one of yours. Her ankle glides along your skin teasingly. Not a speck of hair on all of those flawless legs, but you’re shivering anyway from the contact. Hence, make a show of closing your coat around yourself. You can’t fool her when it’s not even chilly.

Recover, piecing together the brokenness of your confidence she tore apart.

“My story is, uh, weird.”

“Tell me.”

“This might be too personal but—” You lift your shoulders awkwardly. “I used to date a girl who looks exactly like you.”

Kim Chaewon—short auburn hair, soft cheeks, and a tiny figure. She’s a memory you didn’t think of returning to today, but then Yena came here, and now you’re back to your youth.

“She was a cop. Cutest officer I’ve ever seen, but a real bitch, for the lack of a better word. Then she left me.”

“You broke her heart, didn’t you?” 

Sputter. “No!” you immediately deny, shaking your head. “I—I didn’t hurt her, she was—”

A filthy lie. You became nonchalant, undeserving of a sweet woman who’d do anything for you, even give up her well-paying job. Again and again, Chaewon expressed her concerns: why were you talking to Minju? Where have you been? Why are you so mean? You disregarded them all the same. She deserved the ignorance; she was too fucking controlling, too fucking jealous.

Yena knows you’re lying. It’s like you’re a wound she can peel back to see all the ugliness, all the damage underneath. Her smile tells you everything.

“Oh, come on. I don’t care. Except for this.” Yena intertwines her fingers. Rests her chin on top of the formed platform. “Was she a good fuck?”

Your laugh is forced, trying to make a good deal out of this situation. A girl is flirting with you right after you saw someone disappear. Now you’re wondering if she’s a robot. Now, through some way, she knows you’re lying about your ex. Coincidences meet yet you refuse to connect them—parallel lines they shall stay, forever. 

“Yena, what exactly is up with you?” you ask. “You just met me. And come on now, why me?”

It’s begun to be hotter in this space. Loosen your coat. Perspiration isn’t because of the atmosphere, so you find out (and what a surprise). It’s because of the woman across you, a midnight sun. If the painful sun was actually a symbol of good in the Rogue, Yena would play its role perfectly. She’d scorch through you and you’ll enjoy every second. Yeah, you’d get all sorts of tans and burns and cancers if you bask in her without protection, but my god, are you willing to take the risk.

“I just don’t like seeing pretty boys have problems,” she replies easily. “If they want, (and I know they do), I’ll take them all away. Soon, all you'll think of is me. Like I’m the sun peeking in your room and you just can’t get enough sleep because of it.”

You tense up. Millions of questions, a void empty of answers. Once again, how was she so spot on? You’re not breathing quite well, and your clothes are tighter tonight. “Yena, look, I-I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Don’t be, not because you aren't, but because she said so.

She pouts. “You’re not gonna buy me a drink?”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Nope. Remember what I said? I’m a blank canvas. So do whatever you want with me. Buy me a drink. Or not. Tell me to fuck off. Or not. Force me on my knees.”

Yena kneels.

There’s no mantle on the table to cover up what she’s about to do. You gasp, then try to mask it as a poor cough, but you’re distracted by how she pulls your pants down effortlessly. The button sealing your coat is busted open and gone.

So is your dignity.

Yena’s tongue sticks out at the side of her mouth as she looks up at you with excitement and mischief in her eyes. 

“Or let me do the job. I’m a big girl after all.”

She seals her teeth around your zipper and tugs down. It’s embarrassing how hard you are for her. But Yena doesn’t care. Adoration is clear on her face as she stares at your shaft, the worshipful energy in her eyes so overwhelming that she has to do something about it.

“Yena—” What a way to go out: screaming a stranger’s name.

You knew those lips were up to no good the moment you saw them. She’s provided evidence, too. Her soft lips embrace your boner and suckle fervently while dragging themselves upwards. It’s a caress that tenses you up rather than comforts you. It works you up, tying you down with the little weight Yena has. You could kick her away right now and tell her to go away. File a case against her. 

You don’t.

The joined duo of careful teeth and wild tongue gets you whimpering. Shivering. Begging. How is she so good at this?

Her mouth is perfectly wet. It’s not copiously soaked to have you cringing but the perfect balance of wet and ready, coating your rod again and again. She gives you too much and just right. It would be a cruel violation if you were asked to choose one and only one.

“Baby, what the fuck—” you stammer. 

Her throat’s an expert in taking you because one push of her lips to your base welcomes you in its tight hole. Your knees shake; Yena places her hands on it, not to stop their trembles but for leverage during the dip of her head. 

Close your eyes, look up, and stare at skies that provide no reprieving stars. Think of how she’s infinitely bett—

“Better than any pussy, huh?” Yena asks. The third time is no coincidence, so you’ve heard. “And it’s just my throat.”

At this stage, you don’t care if she’s a robot or not, because either way, that mouth is a fucking treasure.

You lift your hips and start slowly working yourself in Yena’s face. Her lips pucker and pout to allow you inside with pleasurable friction. Those eyes—there aren’t any planets in the sky because of the pollution but you think you can see their sparkle in them. 

The amazing part is that Yena doesn’t choke. She endlessly takes you in, receiving every inch like a blessed gift, but you don’t hear her wheeze. No sounds of complaints escape her. You have a feeling it’s not because of your cock sliding in and out of it. She only gags on occasion, and those already sound fake. It’s like she’s doing it just so you can get worked up hearing her moans.

While others might be impressed, you’re dumbfounded. She tightens and loosens and pushes and pulls just for your pleasure. 

“Yena, I– you’re doing so good,” you compliment her in gasped breaths.

Her cheeks hollow. The suction strengthens and it now feels like your soul’s being swallowed down her neck. She knows how to tease you with light pandering from her teeth, generous licking, and strengthened swallowing. Her mouth is warm but you are more so. She’s making you feel hot in all these layers, an additional one played by her perfect lips.

Perfect hair, too, you note.

Hungry impulses take over your body and now you’re pumping your core into the girl’s face with the help of her pigtails. Yena’s hair is thick and silky, and it’s another enjoyable factor: feeling how it slips between your fingers and how each pull directs her lips to press firmly to your crotch.

She doesn’t gag with that either. She must have had a lot of experience; she did say she can take hard things fine. That is, if she were human. If not, whoever built her had dirty ideas: the lack of gag reflex surely brings in the five star ratings.

Bright star-like eyes, cute ruinable face, mouth that can take the largest.

Yep, perfect.

“Good—fucking—girl.”

Your cock weeps white. Yena feels the first drop and immediately pulls away. She pumps your shaft with a strong, urgent fist. As she hinted, you blast all over her face. Your orgasm grips you and shakes you like never before, and of course, the little brat enjoys it. She’s nearly laughing.

“There,” says Yena after she drains you. Her duck-like lips are sticky with cum. “Canvas painted.”

What a pretty painting you’ve made. Here, shown to the public, is the manic pixie dream girl, semen on her chin to symbolize how each word she utters has you climaxing; hair disheveled to show your subtle but messy rule over her, because you own her although you weren’t there when her mechanical limbs were assembled and her face drawn; and a smile on her face to show that despite all this: she likes it.

You laugh, short blunt breaths wisping in the air. “There really is something wrong with you, Yena,” you say.

She’s a girl who’s extremely pretty, good at blowjobs, and likes public sex and oral. She can also read minds. Oh, and she might not be real. 

“You could say that again.” She wipes her mouth. “Though I do think I could use a little fixing from you.”

-

You take her home. Your mother would have been disappointed in you if she knew you violated the first law you were ever taught: don’t talk to strangers. Most of all, don’t ever let them in. But Yena is no stranger—like she said, she knows your name and for some reason, you know her own. You’re not strangers. And your mother isn’t around to command you not to kneel for a pretty girl.

This home of yours isn’t fancy, but if people from 2024 saw it, they’d be mesmerized. You’re not rich enough to afford the penthouses the North offers; this one is alright for you. The stories of the building aren’t aligned with each other, separating a few yards with floating floors that defy gravity. That’s right; WAKE12 somehow found a way to disobey the rules of physics. The ends are lit up with bright lights that blind you from miles away. Wide windows encircle the areas along with al frescos and convenient malls. Back then, this would have been classified as the house of the wealthy—you can’t say you agree with the sentiment when you’re not at all rich.

“Hi,” says Yena brightly at the front desk. She’s so smiley, always grinning like she’s just told a really clever joke. “Where’s the elevator?”

“I, uh…” 

The manager looks at her oddly. Your ears redden; she still hasn’t cleaned her face up. Evidence of your deed lies there on her nose and chin and cheeks, even in her perfect hair. 

“Well?”

The manager lifts the phone immediately. Before he could dial a number, Yena sighs loudly. 

“Look.” She silences the telephone with a slam of the device down on the keypad. The man’s hand cringes. “I’m about to fuck this guy’s brains out and I promise your little backup bosses can’t do anything about it.”

He stares at her. 

“I’m gonna use his dick until it’s limp as a balloon, then ride him in bed, then bend over on the kitchen table so he could breed me like a common whore.”

You lift an index finger to apologize, but put it back down. Did she just say you can breed her?

His jaw tenses. The teeth behind those unsmiling thin lips grit, not in annoyance but in fear. Yena’s bouncy and sweet, but apparently she’s excluding people who cockblock from her cute attitude.

“So,” finishes Yena, lowering her gaze, “where is the fucking elevator?”

The elevator has no pulley or doors. It sits at the side of the uneven floors and rises with nothing but a sizable pod. You’ve had to watch your weight to be able to enjoy the freedom from staircases. 

Yena steps on it with no worry. As you look at her, you realize how positively tiny she is. That’s why she isn’t doubtful about fitting in the claustrophobic space. Her violet clothes can slip off at any time at her pull of a waist and slim thighs. All the fullness goes to her cheeks, painted with fake tattooed stars and minimal doodles. 

She’s the kind of girl you could just pick up and do whatever to. You’re the kind of guy who really, really likes the idea.

Holding your hand is a thing of the past. Yena clutches your cock over your jeans as the elevator lifts the two of you up. 

The first thing she does the moment you enter your home is not kiss you, or slam you to the door, or whisper dirty nothings in the hollow of your ear. Yena looks around and says, simply, “Doable.”

You chuckle. You’re not offended. It’s a tidy, minimal apartment with glass that spans a viewing pleasure of the artificial forest and the hills. Glass lost its value but skyrocketed in purchases when Jo Yuri, first activist recorded in the history of WAKE12’s domination, was imprisoned. People compared her name to glass (yuri was 유리 and 유리 meant glass) and since then, it has been used everywhere. High demand, low price. Her symbol and namesake is used the way the public wants her to be used: cheap thing convenient only to the eye. They always said she was too pretty to talk too much.

“Here, doable is the best compliment,” you reply. You go to your bedroom to clean the place. If you want to fuck a rich girl, make sure the bedroom is at least up to her standards. “You have personal maids there in the North?”

Yena continues looking around. She’s mildly fascinated by everything, especially in the big window placed on the ceiling that lets stars peer down at you. For some reason, all the ejaculation on her face is gone. You don’t remember her bringing a washcloth.

“I’m not from the North, you know.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. I don’t come from anywhere.”

You come out, having cleared your bed from clothes and the floors of trash. You fed the trash to the connected chute that all apartments have, which leads down to the Southern Auster. The word may be Latin and is already defined as south, but there’s places poorer than the part you live in. You’re lucky to be here. The Southern Auster’s where it’s much more dangerous. The people there scavenge for food and money, and their cries go unheard in the night. It’s the biggest criminal capital of the Rogue.

You come out and Yena’s sitting on the kitchen table with a knife.

Stop in your tracks. 

See the blood running down her arm. 

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says dismissively. “It doesn’t hurt.”

You still don’t know what to say. The wound on her skin’s dissolved to a scar that looks more like a scratch on metal. Why would she do that? Why would that do that?

“In fact, I think it’s kind of cool.” Yena slides the blade on the strap of her top. It falls apart, right down to her braless chest. A pink, perky nipple is clear in the moonlight shining from above. “When people see me, they usually want to hurt me, so I might as well do it myself, right? They want to slap me, pull my hair, choke me. They say that and figure I’m totally flattered.”

You want to say that you couldn’t blame them. Yena’s got this innocent but naughty aura about her that you want to completely ruin. There’s her hair, all dolled up and her quirky makeup that brings attention that eventually switches down to the body she doesn’t bother hiding. 

But it looks like she’s doing the ruining. Aren’t those the best stories? Boy corrupts girl when it’s the other way around in reality? 

To use the word “reality” when you’re with Yena is laughable. She can read your mind like a Rogue Times newspaper. You get that things you thought were impossible have a chance of happening in these days, but you don’t remember wounds healing that fast. The knife slices right through the fabric, revealing swoon-worthy curves of her waist and hips, making her bleed only not for too long. Who would want a scar-ridden skinny girl anyway?

“Well,” you say after a dutiful swallow, “are you?”

Yena examines the knife. Her crimson blood dripping from its edge is a worthwhile watch while she considers this. 

She finally puts down the knife, much to your relief. “I don’t know. What about you, handsome? Do you want to hurt me or fuck me?”

“I… I’m not like them. I don’t wanna hit you or make you cry or anything. I want to fuck you, that’s completely different.”

First confession of the night that didn’t need saying when it’s clear. You let her blow you in public. You took her home. The intention is staring you in the face: you want to have sex with a girl you just met. 

Yena smiles. “You’d be surprised how blurred the lines are.”

Yena‘s hands fall on your shoulders and make you  fall to the kitchen chair and make your pants fall on the floor. Falling, falling, falling for her—it’s all you’re able to do provided that she’s stunning. She’s tiny with her thin arms and legs but her breasts are surprisingly supple. The cleavage her top subtly shows off hinted to that and you’re still shocked.

She’s a hot desert, and the only source you can drink of is her core. Her pussy is slick, making her thighs glue together only for them to part as she sits on your lap. 

The first grind has you both breathless. The second renders a duet of moans. She’s so wet that it’s excessive enough for her to drip down your cock and completely cover it with her. Yena’s pussy lips splay and clasp your shaft with slippery friction.

She curses. “You’re so hard. Big, t-too.” She aims your cockhead at her clit and sighs at the toe-curling pleasure. “You think you can fit in me?”

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

Yena smirks. She continues soaking you with her wetness. Her juices pour from your head to your balls. Then, without warning, she sheathes your rod inside her. 

You gasp. It’s so easy to slip yourself in and all too difficult to cope with how tight she is. Her walls, perfectly textured and sloppy, trap you and let you out, giving you false hope of escaping, only to imprison you again. It’s the best punishment you ever had. 

Her throat was already better than the other cunts you’ve spent yourself in, so what does that make her pussy?

The best. Her overflowing waterfall lets her ride you easily. It seems like there’s a million spots inside her you can target for she quivers and cries with each bounce. Her hair flows photogenically while her chest does the same erotic motion. 

“So fucking good, fuck,” Yena groans. Her round butt lands on your lap and you think you’d like it to stay there forever. Curl your hands around her cheeks. Draw a healthy moan from the throat you used.

Yena’s pussy curves and opens in every best way. She makes it so easy to mold her into the shape of your cock, to rearrange her insides. Was she made for dick? She’s so wet that you’d think she’s a nymphomaniac who won’t let you go, the same way her vagina won’t let you go as its grip curls around you and threatens to milk you to your wits’ end.

You wouldn’t mind that.

Her riding accelerates to an unbearable point the moment you start to spank her. She’s right about hurting and having sex being almost the same—you want to leave red handprints all over her jiggling ass. You want to pull her hair until she screams. You want to fuck this perfect cunt of hers right up to when she’s creaming all over you, flooding your sexes with her naturla nectar.

And the crazy thing is: she’ll actually let you.

“Fucking brat,” you say, hitting her butt again. She yelps coquettishly. “Are you really this thirsty for cock?”

“God, yes…” Her head throws back. Yena’s eyes shut and although her vision is blocked she sees stars. “Wanted to know how your dick would split me open. Fuck, keep doing that!”

Her core tightens with each blow you expel on her bouncing ass. Her hole’s already so enclosed so when she squeezes more, it’s close to having your cock tortured. You’re suffocating inside her.  You’re waterboarded again and again with her waterfall of wetness. 

You guide Yena’s motions with your hands on her behind. She’s so light that you’re practically using her as a doll, fucking her on your erection and letting yourself enjoy how her tits recoil. Her moans turn on a part of your brain that you don’t know, but it transmits to you these thoughts: fuck her senseless.

You raise her as high as you can, her weight nothing even to your long-untrained muscles, then slam her down. She sinks deeper into your lap and takes longer inches. Yena’s screams bounce off the soundproof walls that ensure only you can hear them. Those walls were fucking expensive, so of course you gotta let them have purpose. Slap Yena’s thighs down on yours and let her pussy envelop you right up to the point of bruises appearing on your skin.

How does she not sweat? Your hands wander all over her tight body and still you don’t find a drop of sweat. Her pigtails are still secured. You guess she was just made to be eternally pretty. 

She is pretty, under any circumstance—her smooth skin possesses zero blemishes and her winged eyes remain lamp-bright. She’s pretty, even when she lets out the pitchiest sounds, even when Yena’s lips rise into a devilish smile before sealing on your neck. She nibbles on your skin and rakes up your sensitivity. 

“Holy shit, Yena…”

“Yeah, that’s right.” She licks behind your ear and you nearly lose it. Maybe you already did. “Say my name. Because I’m all yours. This pussy is yours to use and abuse, so do it.”

Rub her tiny pulsing clit. Yena’s cries deafen you. If that’s not enough, she drowns you with her cum. There’s no raft to save you. You’re all alone. You’ll drown here and never see the light of day again.

Electricity runs through her body as the pleasure ramps up. Her fingers weaken on your shoulders. Her gasps are split off by larger, more surprised evolutions. Yena’s close.

“Fuck, no, I can’t!” Yena’s riding is furious and borderline abusive. The noises between your two crotches are louder than before. 

“You can,” you insist. You throb inside her while her pussy becomes smaller despite the many thrusts you perform. “Take it like a good girl, Yena.”

“Fuck me, use me, I’m just your cute little helpless girl, fuck me!”

She couldn’t be more correct. She’s just a useless doll, thin and adorable and tight—so why not use her like one?

You’re surprised your limbs have any power in them, but they impress as you lift Yena up. During your walk to the counter, you don’t stop thrusting in her. She’s wet and ready, just waiting and begging for it to happen. Her pretty face is smudged with tears. There’s sick satisfaction in you from seeing how the confident girl at the bar is now just a fuckhole to use. 

“Oh, oh, ah!” Cute little whines come out from those lips. Her mouth used its power to pick you up, make you cum, make you scared. In this second, all that is gone: she’ll only ever use it to wail in pleasure.

Knock her against the kitchen counter. Her thighs press to the curve. You spread them open and continue spending yourself to death in her. Her sides that slant to make the physique you love are perfect handles to thrust. 

You’re completely soaked, but she’s completely defiled. The dream girl is not just any dream but a wet dream. She’s the fantasy you never had but will constantly think of now. And you don’t care if WAKE12 knows you’re fucking her. They can read all the thoughts you have about Yena as much as they like, and you wouldn’t care.

Instead of giving a fuck, you twist her around, her smooth back in front of you, and fuck her harder while you’re at it. Admire the way your hips slap her ass and give her the spanking she deserves. One spank, that’s for being so tempting. Another for the price of her promiscuity. Three one-after-the-other’s because she’s too wild, too free for a girl with that face.

“God, please, harder!” Yena cries. “Make me your little cocksleeve cumslut!”

She does not take pain to heart, physically and mentally. In spite of your rapid pumps and the slap of your stomach to her bent and ready ass, no bruises or scratches appear on her skin. You say all these degrading words and rather than mope about it, she gets more turned on. She forces you to give all your might in railing her in this apartment where the open windows give you away rather than the sounds. And you’re nodding along, saying:

“Of course.”

Of course you’ll grab her tits and pinch their nipples as hard as you can. Yena’s skin might not be humanly warm but these boobs are real. They’re soft in your palms and plentiful. Is she a masochist? You tweak and slap and squeeze; in response, she’s… smiling?

Of course you’ll slip your touch all over her body. Appreciate every perfect curve, every fine fullness. After fondling her tits, you slide your hands over her smooth pits, then to her arms that struggle to remain stable. She’s sensitive all over; it’s evident in the way she babbles each time you caress her. 

Of course you’ll take her hair and pull as hard as you can. She won’t get mad. Nothing ever gets to the cool girl.

“Oh my god!” Yena shouts. 

Those pigtails are there for a reason. Thrusts become easier to do with her hair curled in between your digits. Her ass meets your crotch easily and you find yourself excavating her cavern, hitting her in all the good places. Yena hums and screeches and sobs. 

“Bad girl.” Her hair plays the role of your reins. They’re convenient in spreading Yena apart with your shaft, tearing at her tightness. “You’re nothing but a filthy cocksucking slut.”

“M-mhm, yes, just for you, just for this perfect dick, ahh! I’m cumming!” 

Yena’s core flexes and contracts. It holds you like it never wants you to go but you let go anyway. You can do nothing besides that especially if it’s her, someone who’s so cute but so seductive, so challenging but submissive. Each part of her—those blowjob lips, her blooming face, her cockiness—makes you wish this could never end.

The first sign of the end of this pornographic one-reeler is your semen raining inside her, setting a storm in her guts. You pant, legs weak, while Yena’s seem to go on forever although she’s smaller than you.

The second sign is the mess she made. Those aforementioned desirable legs are painted by obscenity. She squirted all over your floor and herself. Your cum coats her vulva plus spills down freely.

Yena looking back at you with a tired smile is the last one, along with her asking, through shattered breaths, “Better than your whore ex?”

Because that’s the thing about girls like Yena. They’ll do everything to please you. Perhaps she’s a good dresser, but really, this is your style, not hers. This type of fashion is what you like on women: modestly revealing. Girls like Yena will give you everything, make you discover yourself, and when all this happens, she’ll remain the thoughtless, forgiving girl. She won’t complain about things that will set you off and say coy, clever things, the kind men like to hear.

All just to be better.

She is.

“Yeah.”

Yena chuckles. For a moment, she looks like the sweetest girl in the world. The happiness overtakes her face and makes her smile reach her ears. 

It disappears as fast as it arrived.

“Wrong fucking answer.”

Alarm sounds of every kind—natural disaster, fire, robbery, whistles—blare in your head. You can’t hear anything except the thin screeches of emergency. But for what?

Yena loses her brightness. Everything that made her shine shuts down. She smiles, that same one full of mischief, before she breaks, too. Her eyes turn pitch black, the ones you see in crows, the sign of bad luck. She disassembles part by part before you. The light girl is suddenly so heavy that she forces you down. Suddenly, her torso above yours feels colder than before. 

What the fuck? 

Escape is your first instinct. You push the remains of the girl away. Your feet kick the broken parts as if you’d break, too. You brush past the fringe of her bangs. Below it, no diamond scar rests on her forehead.

Stare down at her. Yena truly is not real. Your manic robotic dream girl is dead. She was never alive. 

“You have been found guilty,” says the implant. You used to hear it when WAKE12 arrested people and now it talks to arrest you. The alarms are loud but you understand every fragment. 

The implant’s emotionless voice now sounds a lot like—

“Chaewon?” 

Bad luck comes just like the consequences of the law, personified by stilettos clicking on your floor, a shadow in the moonlight, and the face of the woman you swear you never wanted to see again.

And yet here she is.

Chaewon looks so much like Yena. Yena looks so much like Chaewon. Their chins, their eyes, their bangs—who is who? Their faces mingle and mix in your vision. You think you’re going crazy.

She puts away a remote control and places her hands on her hips. Her black bodysuit is all you see as she approaches. Her smiling lips don’t utter a word. You hear her voice, all in your head.

“You have the right to remain silent. Anything and everything you do shall be punished by WAKE12 accordingly. This is the price you pay for your crime.”

There’s a gun in front of you. It’s aimed at your chest, determined to crush what keeps it beating. Raise your hands, but not in surrender. You’ll die before you try to be Chaewon’s toy again.

“What crime? Being your ex-boyfriend?” you spit. This has got to be a joke. “Chaewon, I said, what crime?”

She can’t abuse her authority. She couldn’t have done all that just to get back at you. And for what? Being a bad boyfriend when you were younger and dumber?

You hear her speak. That striking smile looks more terrifying than beautiful. It dissolves into darkness to pronounce your wrongdoing. 

“For the crime of fucking existing,” she snarls.

You hate Chaewon. You swore you never did yet now you do wholeheartedly. You tried to love her and reciprocate her efforts. She’s a busy woman so she should have understood you had other commitments.

This is the last time you ever want to hear from her. 

A bullet you don’t see coming. It soars in the wind and finds its home sweet home in your skull.

She’s the last thing you ever heard.

[rashemon]

Okay, I had to upload prices because previous ones doesn't really fit current Polish prices and I still struggled ;; Any reshares would be HIGHLY appreciated!

Emergency commissions cuz I cant even afford fucking meds rn, this is a disaster Explanation: I've been working in an office with highly toxic boss, and after years of destroying my health (mentally and physically) due to increasing harrassment towards me, I had to leave that job. I was constantly insulted, had to stay overhours, commit more than anyone in the team. I was insulted while being overworked and quite honestly, exhausted and pushed to mental breakdown. Finally, I opened my eyes after 6 months of sick leave and my health destroyed. Sadly, what I didn't know, is that Poland is now in a crisis of searching for new positions. I was an accountant, a good one, and now I can't find job anywhere, whilst having bills and a pet bunny to care about. Its a disaster I didn't anticipate, but I had to leave for my own wellbeing. Right now commissions are my only source of income, and probably that will be for a longer while - thats why there is no slot limit! Thank to everyone who trusted me with my commissions, it helps ALOT ;v;

BG3 special, prices are much lower for yall folks cuz I love ya uwu Informations: 1. I've passed the game with 100% Achievements and over 270h, you don't need to worry about spoilers ^^ 2. Any companion can do - this includes even Orin and Gortash! 3. All races are fine! ^^ 4. I do basic backgrounds, more detailed ones (such as drawing ur characters in tavern) may require additional payment (not much tho) 5. On painting, I can also draw character in any outfit you'd like 6. You can propose a pose 7. Everything is a reference for me - you can both give me screenshots of your tav, or drawings ^^ If Your Tav is a tiefling, I'd also love to see both side-profiles for horns reference!

[captain039]

Daddy’s Little Girl

Logan x reader

Warnings: Age gap (early twenties reader) , swearing, first times, virgin reader, plus size reader, tension, oral f receiving, smut, daddy kink, dom!logan, Abuse, verbal and mental (Not from Logan), anxiety, depression, mention of self harm scars, reader has muscle issues and body pain

Kinda hitting home with personal:specific details for reader, but alas I need this man, I need this man bad 😂

Wolverine in the mountains as a Lumberjack is a wet dream

Set when Logan was in the mountains but modern day times

You awake to a loud knock and a grumbled hurry up making you sigh. You check your phone finding no overly important messages. You’re expecting a call from your sister this week sometime though. You miss her, she was Lucky enough to get out of this hell hole while she could. You dress quickly knowing your father will get pissed if he doesn’t see you in the truck in five minutes. You get your jeans on and a shirt before grabbing your boots and phone. You go down the stairs slowly, ignoring the way your hips protests. You grab a banana and shove your boots on before heading to the truck. Your dad waits, smoking in the drivers seat making you sigh silently inside as you jump into the passenger seat. Everyday he drags you out to the lumber mill, everyday he doesn’t give a damn if you need to see a doctor or therapist. Doesn’t care that he’s seen scars on your arms or that you cry most nights. You pretty much run this lumber mill even if your dads the boss, you keep track of the finances, locations, next sights, shipments whatever needs done that he can’t be bothered to do, all he does is swing an axe and let his anger out. Only good thing is Logan. Logan the man you crush on since he first started couple years ago. His perfect hair and smile, those jeans and leather jacket, the way he carry’s himself. His kindness towards you, the stupid hair ruffle he gives even though he knows you hate it, the making sure you’ve eaten during the day or asking if you need help. He’s too perfect, a goddamn dream and you’re a nightmare.

You head into the small trailer office and sit down rubbing the sleep from your eyes as your father greets his team. He smiles shakes hands and laughs making you loath him. You want to punch him, show them how pissed he gets and how fucking useless he is. You sag against the chair waiting for Logan to show up in his two seater low truck with that handsome face. You hate yourself, lusting after man twice your age, probably married or has plenty suitors. Ones that aren’t broken like you. You clench your jaw and unlock the computer cursing the slow wifi as you go through emails. It’s the same old and you’re bored of it, hell you don’t even get paid to be here your father says his house and his food are payment enough, not like you’re his kid or anything. You watch your dad and his team leave silently thanking god. Though a little upset you missed Logan. A knock comes at the door and you frown a bit.

“Come in” you call watching the door open. Logan steps in a smile on his face as he closes the door.

“Morning Bub” he says and you smile.

“Morning” you reply as he sighs and sits down on the small couch.

“Why aren’t you with the team?” You ask with a frown.

“We need supplies, your father told me to head into town” he said and you sigh, of course he did, too lazy to go himself.

“Wanna come?” Logan asks and you falter.

“Oh, yeah sure hang on” you quickly finish writing the email before logging off and shutting the computer down. You follow him out the trailer and to his car he smiles playfully as he holds open the door for you which you just laugh at and ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

You try not to glance at him every five seconds as he drives. How someone can be attractive while driving you’ll never know. It’s about an hours drive into town, the silence comfortable. You look out the window letting the wind blow in your face. Your phone buzzes and you frown taking it out seeing a message from your father.

We need more courier trucks this time, don’t forget

You huff softly, how could you forget he’s yelled it to you for the last couple of days.

“Everything alright?” Logan asks jolting you from your mind and you force a smile and nod.

“Just dad” you shrug switching off your phone and putting it back in your pocket. You finally arrive at the store following Logan inside.

“What we need?” You ask as Logan pulls a list from his pocket.

“Rope, saw blade replacers, chain, sharpener stones, beer” Logan smiles at the last part and you try to smile back. Beer always equals your father coming home shit faced and blaming it on you like you’re the one who got him drunk. You grab a trolly each and head down each aisle to get what you need before heading to the register. You scan the items watching the numbers go up and know you’ll probably get blamed for the prices too. Once you’re done Logan grabs his wallet and pulls out the company card before tapping and paying. You enjoy his closeness smell the cologne he’s got on this close too. You wait for the receipt before heading back to the Ute. You make one more stop to the liquor store before heading home.

You’re not even half way home when your phone rings. With your dad’s name flashing, you wince a little and answer.

“Hello” you say.

“Why aren’t you answering the phone at the trailer?” He says annoyed.

“I went with Logan to get the supplies you needed” you answer.

“Jesus Christ I give you one goddamn job and you can’t even do that right! You know not to leave that goddamn trailer during work hours!” His voice is scolding and pissed and you tense and try to ignore your stomach churning.

“We’re heading back now” you muttered not getting an answer back instead your father hangs up and you feel like crying.

“You alright?” Logan asks and you force a smile and nod at him.

Back at the trailer you notice your hips beginning to ache helping carrying things from the ute back to the trailer. You wince and silently curse knowing it’ll probably either be a flare up and another reason for your dad to yell or hopefully just some daily pain that Panadol can fix. It’s always the fucking first one. You sit down behind your desk and ring back anybody who tried to contact the office while Logan works outside. You glance to him every so often seeing him push his sleeves up, wipe sweat off his brow, a whole damn strip tease. You wish you had confidence or were thinner and older maybe then he’d give you a glance. You sag into the chair wincing when your hips decided to twinge in pain.

It’s just after five when the team return, you’ve hopefully done everything today and you’re feeling it. Logan hasn’t left either only to stop on break for lunch or smoke the cigars he has. You tried to tell him they’re bad for him but he just smiled and continued. Your dad looks annoyed and you can feel the home ride scolding already.

“All done?” Logan says suddenly making you jump not realising he was in the trailer. You jolt the wrong way and let out a pain of noise that has the man instantly concerned and walking over.

“Fine, I’m fine sorry I didn’t mean to make that noise” you brush off cursing when you can’t even stand up properly.

“You don’t look fine Bub” he says quietly.

“Ready?” Your dad interrupts and you nod forcing yourself up right. You walk a little funny out the trailer and down the steps.

“Bye Logan” your dad says.

“See ya boss” he says before saying a goodbye to you with a small worried frown. You smile and wave getting into your dad’s truck awkwardly.

“What the hell did I say with leaving without my permission? I had two damn phone calls while I was out!” Your dad scolds hitting the steering wheel in annoyance making you jump. You keep your head down and on your lap making sure not to move.

“Well?!” He snaps.

“Sorry, I figured Logan would need some help with supplies” you say and your father scoffs.

“Logan needs help my ass, you’re just trying to slut yourself out to the man!” He growls and the words sting. You’ve never had a boyfriend, never spoken to another man in that way.

“Like you did with Jason” he adds. Jason was the newest addition to the team a little older than you.

“Sorry father” you mutter.

“God sakes” he grumbles. He doesn’t say anything else and when you get home you know he’ll scold you for dinner before ordering pizza and beer. You head upstairs silently feeling tears prick your eyes before you force them down.

“Can I have a shower dad?” You call.

“Five minutes! Anymore I’m breaking the goddamn water line” he yells and you wince and hurry. You set a timer knowing he won’t be joking. You wash as quickly as you can before stepping out and drying yourself. You sigh not even feeling clean or refreshed. You barely have time to shave when you shower, barely have time to wash your hair too. You dress hearing your dad talking to the pizza man no doubt before he slams the door. You say into your bed, only reason you have your furniture and room nice is because your mother was still alive at one point. You hear your phone vibrate and see Logan’s name on the screen. You had all the team’s numbers in your phone for emergencies or anything company related. Your father shamed you for that too saying you’d send each man nudes or sex texts.

Hey kid, you alright?

Fine, thank you, nothing to worry about

you type back quickly and get dressed into some pyjamas. You’re tired but no sleep won’t come well and you’ll have to eat when your dad’s either passed out or asleep. You wait a while scrolling on your phone. When your mum was alive she got you a bank account open, you had to secretly apply for a government payment grant so you could at least get a phone and credit. If your dad ever found out about the money though he’d probably close the account or take what you had. Your phone buzzes continuously and you frown seeing Logan’s name. You answer a little confused he never calls unless it’s for work.

“Hey? Did you need something?” You ask voice hushed even though the TVs turned up loudly.

“Just checking on you, you sure you’re alright kid?” You a sigh a little, that stupid nickname.

“I’m fine thank you Logan” you say a little curtly without meaning too.

“Did you need something, did I miss something at work?” You add after some silence.

“No, works fine” he sighs a little and you frown. You hear footsteps and begin to panic.

“Sorry Logan I have to go” you hear him about to speak but quickly hang up as your father’s footsteps walk past and into his room and you sigh in relief.

You lay there awake till it’s about 8, hearing loud snores before you creep down stairs to get a sandwich and water before going back up. You sigh eating on the small couch in your room glancing to your phone seeing another text from Logan.

Night kid, sleep well

Your heart jumps a little.

Next part ->

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | 16:49 ⏤ FREE GOODIES

SUM. : you had more baked goods than you were able to sell and decide to give them out for free to the firefighters at your local fire station to say thank you

TAGS. : fluff ; modern au ; muggle au ; baker reader ; firefighter james ; james being a love sick puppy ; he hides it well though ; remus and sirius begin scheming ; everyone knows james is in love ; it's obvious to everyone but you

LENGTH : 1.6k

NOT PROOFREAD OR EDITED

“No! Don’t tell me!” you giggle as the man behind the counter grins widely and laughs along with you, his hazel eyes carefully watching as you bring up a brown paper bag and a steaming take-away cup of coffee, “Our special BLT sandwich and a dark roast, cocoa blend to go,”

“All ready for me, huh?” James teases as you smile innocently. He pays for his order and goes to inspect the contents of the brown paper bag as you move behind the cash register and file away his notes, “And a mini treacle tart!” James’ voice lights up in cheerful surprise when he sees the unexpected treat but hurriedly goes in search for more payment in his wallet. 

“Don’t you dare, James,” you scold light-heartedly, “it’s on the house,” his movements stop and he meets your eyes, ready to retaliate. However, sensing your seriousness, his shoulders slacken and his expression eases into a grateful smile instead. 

“Thanks, you’re an angel,” of course, he couldn’t help but send you a wink. His words spread a heat across your cheeks but you pay it no mind, hoping that any signs of your flustered state can be ignored as long as you didn’t draw attention to it. 

“I know I am~” 

“Take care, angel,” with a toothy grin and a wave, James turns and leaves, his day already looking as bright as could be. 

James has been visiting your little bakery and cafe for the better part of a year now; he’s become one of your beloved regulars, maybe one of your most beloved. He was just too handsome and charming for his own good, cute and sweet and always gentleman with you. His uncontrollable dark curls and round glasses gave him this boyish appeal that you couldn’t help but fall for. His voice is smooth and comforting, his eyes a mesmerising hazel, his lips a pretty shape—

“Hey!” snapping out of your daze, you turn to your co-worker in shock.

“Wh-what?”

She smirks and wiggles her brows at you, “I knew you had a thing for him,”

“Oh shush Leona!” you huff and fold your arms but burn hotter in the cheeks when she laughs at you. 

“No need to deny it, I can see why you’re so head over heels~”

“Is that any way to talk to your boss?” making your way over, you playfully nudge her side as you plant yourself beside her and help with the cupcake decorations. 

Gasping, Leona grasps at her chest in mock offence, “I never believed you were that kind of boss! I was tricked—!” her mock ramblings were cut off with another nudge to her side that sent the both of you into a fit of giggles. 

“What should we do with all this?” you ask with a huff, staring in disappointment at all the leftovers in your display cases. Most would only end up in the trash and it broke your heart to see such goodies go to waste. 

“Why don’t you donate them at the local police station or fire department?” Leona suggests with a smile as she wipes down surfaces, “The fire department isn’t too far from here so you can go there first and do the police station on another day we have extra leftovers,”

Smiling brightly, you nod and get to work, “Brilliant idea Leona! How come I’ve never thought of that before?” 

“Maybe because you’re too busy all the time?” with a light-hearted pout, she faces you and presses on about how you need to consider yourself as a priority for once and actually go home on time. She had a point; the bakery was consuming your life. But you worked hard on the things that mattered to you and that was always a trait you were proud of. Every day you return home with pride and fulfilment in your heart; you loved that feeling despite the ache in your limb. Sighing, your enthusiasm slows considerably but you keep on packing up a random selection of baked goods, “Just think about it at least, boss,” Leona comes up behind you and gives you a quick but heartfelt hug, “we want you to be our boss forever so you have to stay healthy,” just like she always does, she brings a smile to your lips and slowly helps you with packing up the rest. 

With the bakery closed up, you head out with your packaged leftovers piled high in the passenger seat of your car and wave goodbye to Leona before pulling away. She was right in saying that the fire station wasn’t too far, it was a short five-minute drive from your bakery with parking close by too. 

It was a little unnerving. You had never done this before. And, even though you knew there was nothing wrong with doing this, your nerves still caused a stir in your chest and stomach at the thought of facing such brave and dedicated workers. However, it was that simple thought that pushed you forward. These men and women deserved free baked goodies and more for all of their hard work, there was no need to be shy about it. Balancing the stacked packages in your arms, you push the front door open with your back and carefully turn around as you step into the space. 

“Whoa, you need help with those?” someone calls from your left and you turn to see a handsome brunette, standing tall with an almost invisible dusting of freckles on his nose and a faint scar across his cheek and jaw. 

“Good afternoon!” you chirp happily and sheepishly accept his kind assistance, “I— umm, I wanted to give you guys some of the baked goods from my bakery. We made a little too much today,”

He grins widely as he appraises the tall stack of packages before turning to you with gratefulness in his eyes, “So that’s what smells so delicious,” the two of you share a laugh, “Thank you so much for this, it’s very kind of you,” a warm heat coats your cheeks as you shyly wave off his praise, which he shakes his head at discreetly but still maintains his happy grin, “come,” he tilts his head to one direction, “lets go feed everyone,” 

Remus introduces himself as he leads you down a hallway to the lounge room, where he suspected most of his colleagues congregated to. When you give your name in return, he tilts his head and mutters something unintelligible under his breath.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“Oh nothing,” he chuckles softly, “I just thought it sounded familiar,” you had questions but shrugged and shrugged them off as unimportant when the two of you finally made it into the lounge area. Entering the space, you see the firemen scattered around the wide room, a group were playing cards around a table with several spectators, one or two were reading a book while another small group stood by a small kitchenette with steaming mugs, chatting between themselves. 

“Remus!” a dark haired man with a visible neck tattoo walks up from where he stood observing the card game, just so he could sling his arm over the brunette’s broad shoulders, “Who’s our cute guest?”

Remus introduces you and the purpose of your visit but his voice slowly fades into the background as soon as you meet eyes with a very familiar pair of hazel pools. 

“James?” blinking in surprise, you tilt your head and observe the man in his fireman uniform, minus the heavy jacket, leaving him in a black compression shirt to showcase his muscles. It made your cheeks heat up again but hotter. You had no idea how brawny he was with his soft charm and sweet face. But this was a very pleasant surprise. 

The man in question stands up, staring at you as if in a trance and makes his way over as Remus and his raven-haired friend step away with devious grins on their faces. They weren’t the only ones however, everybody else in the room looked on with a similar grin stretching across their lips, slightly leaning forward in their interest. 

“Wh-what are you doing here?” he sounds like he’s choking on air, breathless and in complete disbelief at the sight of you. 

“I uh– there were some leftover goodies at the bakery so I thought I could give them to you guys…as a thank you for all your good work,” you admit softly, staring up at him with timid eyes and watching with a gradually racing heart as a toothy grin takes over his features. His eyes sparkled with mirth under the fluorescent light and your heart skipped a beat in your chest. How does he do that? 

“You’re really too kind,” and so perfect James wanted to finish, ignorant to his friends’ snickering. Please be mine! It was a desperate wish and one that he had been making for a long time but he needed to keep his cool. He understands how overbearing and clingy he could be at times and didn’t want to frighten you.  

“You guys deserve it,” you return and silently hold up your packages with a smile. Happily, he takes the load and leads you to a table where he helps spread them out for his friends and colleagues to take as they please. Everyone around you gushes at the array and sings your praises in between their gratitude for the kind gesture. Amongst all the chatter, you also manage to hear soft whisperings that didn’t quite fit the rest of the words at the forefront of surrounding conversations. 

“That’s the cute baker Jamesie has been gushing about for months now, huh?”

“Seems so. Finally, we can put a name to the face,”

There was some laughter, “He looks like a love sick puppy,”

From the corner of your eye, you observe James and the goofy grin on his face, trapped in a daze as he stares down at you with adoring eyes and a soft blush on his cheeks. In your head, you make a mental note to visit the fire department more often. 

A/N : it just feels right that James is a firefighter, right? i'm not the only one who thinks this? nevertheless, i hopefully managed to convince you lovelies otherwise hehehe~

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @fortheeeefics @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @ghostgardn @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Yayyy, congrats again on 2k!! 🥳🥂

If no one's requested the yet, I'd like to offer the following prompt for a drabble: Miguel O'Hara + “I can’t get enough of you.”

Please and thank you 💖

Good Girl

Professor!Miguel O'Hara x Stripper Student f!reader

Summary: Professor O'Hara visits his favorite student at the strip club.

Word Count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Language, smut, p in v, power imbalance? Student/ teacher relationship kinda. Reader is in college and is an adult.

Whitney! I hope you like this thing I wrote for you! It's totally different from what I'm used to but I really hope you like it <3

MDNI

...

“Back again so soon, Professor O’Hara?” You grinned, pressing your red-tinted lips to his ear. Your heels gave you an extra six inches of height, but you still had to balance on your toes if you wanted him to hear you properly over the blaring music.

“Miguel,” he corrected you with a grunt for the umpteenth time, “it’s been a while.” He towered over you, his lidded eyes regarding every inch of you. 

You had your makeup done all pretty that night, your eyes dusted in bright pink glitter, and your cheekbones colored with a rosy blush. Your outfit didn’t leave much to the imagination, but it made you look ravishing, a complete 180 to the baggy clothes you chose to wear to class most days. 

“It’s only been two days,” you giggled as he pressed your back against the edge of the rowdy bar, caging you in his toned arms. You batted your lashes up at him, admiring the way the club lights engulfed him in hues of purple and magenta, the contours of his handsome face sharp and intimidating in the dim light. 

“Had to see you again,” he muttered as you tugged on his loosened red tie to bring him closer, “you gonna deny me, muñeca?”

“Are you gonna give me an A in physics?” You shot back, tilting your head to take a good look at him, feigning innocence. He rolled his eyes but smirked, brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“If you’re good,” he said, “I’ll see what I can do.” You beamed, pressing your lips to his cheek, leaving behind a red lip stain.

“I’ll be good, I promise,” you bit your lip, letting your pretty eyes do all the work, “won’t be late to class or anything,” Miguel growled, pressing his hips against yours, his growing bulge pushing hard against your thigh in anticipation. 

The weight of him felt good.

The stretch of his cock was even better.

“Hey, buddy!” One of the security guards bulldozed his way through the small crowd of eager men, placing a beefy hand on Miguel’s shoulder, “Get off the girl if you ain’t paying.” 

The security guard was tall but Miguel was taller, the latter turning menacingly to glare at him. The security guard shrunk back for a fraction of a second before standing his ground. “You know this wise guy?”

“Yeah, Joey, it’s okay,” you stepped between the two large men, “he’s a regular.” Joey narrowed his eyes, his bushy mustache shifting with the motion of his lips as he frowned. He sifted through the pages on his clipboard, running a finger down the crinkled page.

“You’re up to dance next.”

“Snowflake can go on for me,” you insisted, offering him your best smile, “Mr. O’Hara wants private time, okay? Go tell the boss.” Joey was fairly new and easily swayed with a nice tone and a pretty smile. For now. He paused, his eyes roaming over your figure before nodding, scribbling over the clipboard. He then stuck out his palm waiting for payment.

Miguel shoved a hand in the pocket of his very tight slacks, fishing out his wallet and slapping a couple of bills in the security guard’s hand. Joey shoved the clipboard under his arm, counting the money with greedy fingers. 

“You’ve got thirty minutes, buddy.”

“An hour, Joey,” you demanded, crossing your arms over your chest, “he gave you enough money for an hour.”

“Fine,” He finally said, glaring once more at Miguel, “an hour.” He repeated before swiftly turning on his heel, presumably heading to the boss’s office. 

You could feel Miguel’s burning rage as you pulled him by the hand toward one of the closet-sized private rooms, pushing him down to sit on the stained couch before whirling around to snap the curtains shut.

“I don’t like that guy.” 

“He’s new, professor.” 

You gasped when you felt Miguel’s thick finger slip into the waistband of your barely-there skirt, tugging you toward him before spinning you around to face him. He looked up at you, his eyes swirling with desire, so unlike the facade he had back at the university: stoic and unapproachable.

But you knew him, the real him—an intimidating physics professor by day, an absolute feral beast by night.

Snowflake was announced on stage before the crowd whooped and a new playlist began to screech through the speakers.

“I told you to call me Miguel in private,” he muttered, his voice almost drowned out by the obnoxious party music in the background.

“Sorry,” you said, eyes fluttering as he ran his heated hands up and down your exposed sides, fingers slipping under your silky floral bralette to press against the hidden skin, “It’s a habit, can’t help it.” 

Miguel hummed, pulling you forward to straddle his lap, your legs stretching over his thick thighs. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your fruity scent before licking a stripe up toward your jeweled ear. You moaned, tilting your head to allow him more access, grounding your hips expertly over his bulge. 

“Long day?” You sighed, relishing in the feel of his clothed cock bumping against your clit just right. You tugged on his tie again, removing it from over his head and tossing it to the carpeted floor before your hands fiddled with his dress shirt. A few buttons were popped open, exposing the tanned skin of his collarbone. 

“Had to grade quizzes.” He muttered into your skin, his hands now firmly planted on your hips.

“And you just had to come see me, hm, professor?” You teased, pressing your clothed cunt over his bulge a little harder, earning a hiss in your ear that shook you to your core. You whimpered when he pressed back just as hard, your thong now soaked with your juices.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he breathed, weaving his fingers in your hair and gently pulling your head back, “need to feel you.” 

“Yeah? I’ll give you what you want,” you grinned, your eyes heavy with arousal, “just wanna know one thing.”

“What is it?”

“Did I pass the quiz?”

Miguel snorted, “B+” 

“I passed!” You squealed, giggling when he rolled his eyes. “I knew I would!”

“You could do better.” He said, pulling down your bra to reveal your supple breasts. He immediately dived in, mouthing at your nipples, giving each one his undivided attention with gentle nips and sucks.

“I-I studied hard for that quiz, you know.” You threw your head back with a moan, continuing your sensual dance over him.

“Study harder.” He said in between sucks before licking up the crevice of your breasts, leaving a bright red love bite just under your collarbone. You whimpered, his tone filling you with arousal. Your hands flew to his belt, loosening it to get to what you craved the most. Miguel helped, lifting his hips for better access, hissing when you released his cock from his briefs and out of his slacks.  

“Maybe I’ll ask Mitch to tutor me sometime before the next quiz.” Miguel paused, sinking back down against the couch, an unimpressed look darkening his features.

Mitch was a fellow student. He sat next to you in physics and was Professor O’Hara’s best student.

“No,” Miguel answered, fisting his cock, “absolutely not.” 

“Why not,” you whined, rubbing your clothed cunt over his now-exposed dick, “I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“But I do,” Miguel growled, quickly shoving your thong to the side. He patted your ass, a signal for you to lift up your hips, before notching his tip at your entrance, “And you’re mine.”

He gripped your hips and brings you down, forcing you to take every inch of him. You both moaned simultaneously, your wet cunt swallowing him with ease. 

Miguel moves you at his pace, slowly at first, relishing in the sounds your sopping pussy made while taking him in. You were familiar with his body now, used to the stretch of him, the ache in your pussy when he was gone.

“Mm, you’re so big,” You whimpered, bouncing on his cock, “stuff me so good, professor.” Your words made him twitch inside you, his hips shifting up to thrust deep into you. 

“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned, head lolling to the side as his fingers dug into your hips viciously. His eyes were trained on your pussy, watching his dick slide in and out with ease, completely soaked with your juices.

You rode him for a bit, the muscles in your thighs tensing but you weren't planning on giving up, moving over him like your grade depended on it. Maybe it did. You weren't taking any chances.

Your release snuck up on you suddenly, quickly approaching as MIguel's cock hit something so devasting, you thought you'd pass out from the pleasure.

“Oh my god," you sobbed, your manicured nails biting into his shoulders through his shirt, "I’m—I’m gonna—”

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” Miguel’s words alone sent you over the edge, and a sob escaped you as you gushed all over him, your aching cunt fluttering over his length. You took a shaky breath, going limp against his chest as he continued to fuck into you.

“You did so good,” he panted in your ear, “did so good for me, hm?” His thrusts were sloppier now, hips jerking as he chased his own high.

“Get on your knees, muñeca,” he moaned, his eyes fluttering, “I'm 'bout to cum. You ready?” You nodded tiredly, quickly shuffling off him. The rough carpet dug into your knees as you opened your mouth, tongue out and ready to taste him. 

Miguel stood on shaky legs, cock in hand as he jerked himself to completion. He tapped his length twice on your tongue before you wrapped your lips around him, lapping at the swollen head. Within seconds he came, painting your throat with his spend.

“Fuck,” he groaned, head tossed back as he shoved his cock further down your throat. You choked a bit, the vibrations of your moans causing him to twitch in the warmth of your mouth. You pulled off him with a pop, licking your lips and peering up at him with wet eyes.  

“Was I a good girl?” You whispered, your eyes large and unblinking. His slacks were soaked with your cum but he ignored it, stuffing his cock away and adjusting his belt.

“Mhm,” he hummed, lifting you up with ease, “such a good girl for me.” You smiled, letting him fix your thong back in place and your breast back into your bra. He bent to retrieve his forgotten tie, but you snatched it from him, balling up the red silky fabric in your hand for safekeeping.

"It's mine now." You demanded, your thumb running over the smooth silk. Miguel chuckled, shaking his head before backing you up against the wall.

“Hour’s up!” Joey called from behind the curtain, giving the entryway a couple of knocks.

“Relax, pendejo,” Miguel yelled back, giving you one final glance, making sure you were presentable, “I’ll see you in class tomorrow, muñeca. Don’t be late.” 

“I won’t.” You promised, your eyes falling closed went he bent over you to peck your mouth. 

He smiled, resting his brow against yours, “Good girl.” 

[hapan-in-exile]

It's alright to just admit that I'm the fantasy

A Mandalorian One Shot

Yeah, I know your little secret...

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Reader: You are a courtesan at the Dark Garden, Coruscant’s most prestigious pleasure house. Owned by the crimelord Boss Set’ki and operated by his lieutenant Mistress Anassa, when business meets pleasure, you’re expected to entertain soldiers on the payroll. But there’s one—a Mandalorian you’ve come to know and respect—who’s never taken advantage of your services. Until one day, he asked, What if next time I said yes?   

Word Count: ~9K

Pairing: dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI, 18+ only.

Warnings: Roleplay, bondage, blindfold, fingering, oral sex (m+f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, spanking, hair pulling, choking, biting, protected anal, unprotected piv, rough sex, edging (him), explicit consent, aftercare.

If the above looks super intense, please know I wrote a soft(er) dom Mando—no extreme degradation. Lots of checking in! Lots of praise!

A/N: This is a one-shot set in the same universe as my ongoing Mandalorian fanfic series. It has no bearing on the series plot, but that’s why the ofc Thuli is named (only once). However, there's no description of skin, hair, or eye color; no description of age or body shape.

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Tales from the Dark Garden

“Thank you,” the Mandalorian says disinterestedly, sliding the pile of neatly stacked credits into his waiting palm. “Please extend my gratitude to Boss Set’ki for his generous and timely payment.”

You watch him tuck the metallic ingots into one of the leather pouches sewn to his belt—right between the buckle and a string of explosive charges. There’s a dull thunk when the butt of his rifle knocks against the table’s edge as he turns to leave. 

It's quite the arsenal. The bounty hunter certainly cast an imposing figure. 

It’s a miracle those shoulders made it through the hatch.  

You’d heard rumors from the other girls at Dark Garden about the fearsome Mandalorian who visited Mistress Anassa. This just happened to be one of those delightful twists gifted by the universe, where the real thing exceeds expectations. He was terrifying. And sexy as hell.

That first moment when you’d opened the door to see him standing there in full plate Beskar was a shock to the senses that would have reduced a younger Thuli into a stream of inane babbling. 

Good thing you had a lot of practice controlling your expression—the demands of professional decorum, after all. It would ruin your Mistress’s reputation if you started drooling over the customers.

The armor suited him. It accentuated the breadth of his shoulders, the strength in his forearms, and his powerfully muscular thighs. The belt slung low around his tapered waist, and the quilted canvas hinted at the taut abdominals concealed beneath.

All the adrenaline that surged through your body at the sight of his weaponry had  immediately transformed into excitement, raw and primal. 

This man made you feel…

Sweet gods, divine and merciful.

“Of course,” you smile, leaning forward to place your elbows over the polished tabletop so that your breasts rise enticingly. Lacing your fingers together, you gently rest your chin atop your knuckles. “I will happily deliver your compliments to my master.”

The Beskar gleamed in the candlelight despite an ashy layer of soot. From the state of him, he might have come straight from the lower levels where he’d tracked his quarry. Your eyes linger over the blood splattered across his helmet, sending a shiver of panic down your spine. What sort of violence had this man committed mere hours ago?

Arousal surges within you, fear and wanting intertwined. 

The gore and grime are a stark contrast to the lush surroundings. Draped in silk tapestries, with thick woolen rugs and brocade pillows, your shuttle interior was designed to be a sanctuary from the vulgar world outside. 

But you suspect the Mandalorian wrapped brutality around him as tightly as the cloak hanging from his neck. It would take a woman of considerable charm to remove either.  

Which is why Anassa chose you.      

“It is my honor to serve, Master Set’ki,” you reply, rising artfully from your chair and gesturing toward the lounge where you’ve laid out a modest tea service. “And my duty to please.”

The Mandalorian pauses midstep on his way to the door.

“Excuse me?” he asks, curiosity peaked.

Shrugging out of your robe, the silken fabric pools at your feet. You kneel onto the plush carpet before pulling back, sitting on your heels, and reaching for the enameled pot. “My master thought you would enjoy the companionship. A chance to indulge in softer luxuries before you return to the Outer Rim.” 

The Mandalorian’s helmet gives away nothing, but you can feel his eyes tracing over you.

Looking up at him through dark lashes, you explain, “The use of this ship—and myself—are yours for the night.” 

Despite the layers of cloth and metal, when he folds his arms across his chest, you see the muscles in his back ripple. He looked powerfully, almost aggressively masculine. Like someone who took what he wanted. 

And right now, he’s imagining taking you. 

The fear is still there, but by now, it had sharpened to anticipation so intense that it ached. 

“That won’t be necessary,” he says firmly. Yet, his words did not match his actions. Instead of continuing on his path toward the door, he turns to face you, uncrossing his arms to hold them at his sides.  

Is he simply nervous? Sometimes, warriors hardened on the battlefield liked to yield dominance in the bedroom. Maybe you should try throwing him against a wall and climbing him like a tree. 

No. If submission were his preference, Anassa would have chosen someone else—Katlin with her barbed whips or Bat’ya with her cruel tongue. 

You need to coax him without pushing. The subtle art of persuasion. 

Let’s start with coy seduction. 

Turning to look at him from over your shoulder, you toss your hair just so, sending shimmering waves down your back. You twist gracefully at the waist until your bodice gapes, revealing the contours of your body.  

“Think of it as a reward,” your voice is supple as the velvet cushions surrounding you on the floor. “Someone to take care of you. My only desire is your comfort and pleasure.”

With that, you pour the tea and walk over to him, proferring a cup.

“That is indeed generous,” the Mandalorian cocks his head. “But I usually find more comfort in solitude.”

Yet, again, he makes no attempt to leave, accepting the cup from your hand graciously. Worn leather caresses your skin as your fingers brush against each other, reaching around the warm porcelain. The jaw of his helmet lifts, and you catch a glimpse of bronze skin and coarse black hair while he raises the cup to his lips.

Surprisingly full lips.

What did he mean by offering resistance? Was this a challenge? Some test of your professional acumen?  

A skilled courtesan is, above all else, a student of human nature and hidden desires. She must know what her clients want before they speak the words. Before they know it themselves. This Mandalorian wanted to be…tempted. 

Timidity would yield nothing. 

You arch an eyebrow, “I have never known a man who preferred solitude to my company.” Then, you stare directly into the jet-black surface of his helmet’s visor. Meeting his gaze, you place a delicate hand over his chest plate and fill your voice with honey, “Let tonight be a rare exception to the usual.” 

The Beskar feels cool against your palm and the pads of your fingertips. You hadn’t realized how flushed you’d become with your heart beating this fast. The insistent yearning between your thighs matches each pulse coursing through your veins.

“I am here to satisfy your needs. Whatever the Mandalorian desires is his for the taking.” 

While the bounty hunter remains stubbornly silent, you can hear his breathing grow shallow through the modulator.

Having made your supplication, you draw back. “If it is tranquility the Mandalorian desires, perhaps I could play the valachord or sing for him?” 

“Sing?” he huffs, sounding amused. It’s funny, hearing the smirk on his lips.

Well, at least he’s not completely immune to your charm. 

“Pleasure takes many forms,” you say, flashing him a demure smile. “As such, we courtesans are skilled in many arts. I’ve been told my voice is exceedingly lovely. And I know all the Twelve Ballads of Kiergaard.”

You shift onto the edge of a thick cushion to pour yourself some tea. When you raise the cup to your lips, the look of elegant femininity slips—just for a moment, so he can see the earnest hunger filling your gaze. You fix him with your most smoldering stare, “Though I can certainly think of other ways to please you with my mouth.”

The tea tastes bitter on your tongue, but you hardly notice, waiting for his reaction.

The Mandalorian says nothing as he pulls the rifle over his head, settling it against the door frame. He walks over in a slow saunter that makes his hips dip and sway. Slowly, he extends his hand to take your face in his leather fingers, lifting up your chin. 

“You want me to fuck your mouth?”

Your breath catches in your throat. A wave of arousal courses through your body, emanating from your clenching belly until it ripples over every surface of your skin, pinching your nipples.

“If the Mandalorian—” but he cuts off whatever beguiling line you intended. 

“I thought this was about what I wanted?” he demands.

Suddenly, you’re too flustered to speak, confused by the sudden shift in dynamic. All his polite reticence had been an act. He was done testing you. He wanted to assert dominance. 

In answer, you lower your gaze.

“That’s right,” he says cooly, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “You’re remembering what you’re for.” The Mandalorian takes the cup from your hands and tosses it aside. “There’s no more need to talk. Don’t open your mouth unless I tell you.” 

Then he reaches down to his belt and unbuckles it. 

And to think you worried he’d be too self-conscious for roleplay. This is going to be so good.

“You’re here to give me whatever I want?” he asks, his tone gruff and intimidating.

You don’t look up, just nod.

He laughs, “I’m glad we understand each other.” 

With your gaze locked on the floor, you watch the tread of his boots make their way to a lacquer armchair in the corner of the room. His knees splay wide as he leans back in his seat. “Answer my question.”

“Whatever the Mandalorian desires, I will give him.”

“Because tonight, your body is for me.”

It’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding in confirmation. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking.”

You answer truthfully. “That you’re a dangerous man, and I should do my best to please you.”

“Smart girl,” he says in a rough whisper. “But don’t worry, I have no intention of harming you. I’m going to make you come. Then you’ll sing for me, senaar'ika.”

Senaar'ika. Little bird. 

Your whole body flushes with heat.

“What do you know about Mandalorian customs?” 

When you hesitate, he adds, “You can answer me.”

“I know that it’s a sacrilege to look upon your face. That to touch your helmet, even by accident, is to forfeit my life.”

“Then you’ll understand why I need to tie you down.”

At that, your head snaps up to look at him.

“Or tie you up. I haven’t decided yet.” 

Part of you is terrified by the thought of being captive to this man for hours, splayed wide and helpless. The other part of you wishes he’d do it this second. 

“You can undress while I make up my mind.”

Obeying his command, you stand and reach behind you for the lacings of your bodice.

This, at least, is an art in which you can make your mistress proud. The trick is to envision it’s a private ritual, something deeply intimate. That you always loosen the silken knots this slowly. That each row of the lacings must be pulled free, one—by—one. 

You lift your elbows so that he glimpses the soft curves of your breasts as you move. Slip your right arm from its fitted sleeve, then the left, until you’re certain the dress will fall, cascading over your body like waves caressing the shore. 

Only then do you turn, rolling your hips and then your shoulders, displaying your nakedness, before you finally look over to where he’s sitting, as though you’d forgotten anyone was watching. 

At some point during your performance, the Mandalorian had leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, his hands clasped together in wrapt attention. 

“That was beautifully done,” he murmurs. “You may be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart swells, hearing his admiration—perhaps because it sounds so genuine. Suddenly, all you can think about is how best to please him, the things you’ll do with your lips and fingers.

“I understand the Hapan courtesans from Dark Garden are the most expensive, the most prized companions in all of Coruscant.” The hunter’s voice sinks into a low, husky rasp as he says, “But tonight, I’m not interested in your talents, though I’m sure you have many. This is about what I want to do to you. Tonight, you belong to me.” 

It’s just as well he demanded your silence because you can’t speak. 

You know he can see you breathing, shallow and fast, from the rise and fall of your breasts. See your pulse thundering against your throat. He’s feeding off your fear, you realize. That’s why he keeps trying to catch you off guard like this. The Mandalorian wanted to shatter your artful calm and see something raw and real in your eyes. 

You know you should be afraid—and you are—but you’ve never been more turned on.

So when he gets up from his seat to approach you, you don’t bother hiding the way your whole body trembles in trepidation.

The Mandalorian crouches to pick up the belt from your discarded robe.

“Give me your hands.” 

He uses the fabric to tie your wrists together, wrapping the belt around and between them in a complicated knot. Then, his strong hands pull you under one of the lanterns suspended from the ceiling. 

Cupping it in his palm, he lifts the glowing orb from its hook to set it down beside the abandoned tea service. The cabin grows dim, like he’s wrapped you in shadows.

That’s when you realize what’s about to happen. Unspooling the cable from his whipcord, he loops it through the empty hook. He’s going to suspend you from the ceiling by your wrists. 

The breath coming from your nostrils is so fast now that it’s the only thing you can hear in the close, quiet cabin of your shuttle. But you say nothing. You can’t protest; you can only submit. 

After securing your bound wrists to the cord, he inspects the knots. 

“Not too tight?”

You release a deep breath and shake your head no. 

“You remember the signal?” Mando asks with concern, breaking from the fantasy entirely. 

“Yes,” you smile up at him with more confidence than you really feel—trying to ignore the insistent throbbing between your legs. 

“You can stop me at any time.”

“I know.”

“Alright,” he says before his voice drops into a rough whisper. “You’re giving me total control. Anything I want is mine.”  

Fuck, just hearing him say that makes you ache with need. That same trembling emanates from inside you, fear and arousal, two halves of the same coin. You don’t know precisely what the bounty hunter plans to do to you—and the suspense just makes the fantasy feel more real. 

Within seconds, you’ll be tied up, defenseless against him and his desires. The only way to stop him is to say the safe word, and you already know you won’t. You want it too much. 

You’ve spent months building up to this—years, really. It’s my choice, you’d told him. It’s different when it’s my choice. 

“Yes,” you whisper breathlessly.

Then he pulls down on the whipcord, and your arms lift above your head. 

For one panicked moment, you think he’s going to haul you entirely off the ground, but your feet remain on the floor, bearing your weight. You remind yourself that this is his domain. He knows how to bind, what the body can withstand. 

And for now, the tension feels manageable. Slack enough so you don’t feel the strain in your joints; taut enough so you can grip the cord to steady yourself. 

Yet you remain utterly helpless, unable to turn your head or move without losing your balance.

He takes a few steps back, leather boots creaking, and you watch as the Mandalorian strips his gloves off before removing the Beskar from his arms and chest.​​​ The fabric underneath outlines every contour of his powerfully muscular body.

Though not as graceful as your tradecraft, he certainly knows how to build anticipation. Each time his hands grip, pull, and tug, your stomach clenches. 

Soon, you feel volatile, ready to explode, waiting for him to touch you. When he finally does—when you feel the tip of his calloused finger tracing over the length of your spine, it burns through you, down to your core, so hot your cheeks flush scarlet. 

“It’s a good thing we have all night,” he murmurs. “There’s a lot I want to do with you.”

As he circles, the view plate sweeps up and down your body as though inspecting some prize captured in a snare. All you can do is stand there on display, completely exposed, until he makes a satisfied sound, a hummm that vibrates through the modulator. The hunter, pleased to discover what he’s caught.

“I feel deeply honored to receive you as my reward,” the Mandalorian sounds eager, standing behind you, voice full of hunger. “Now spread your legs.”

The breath catches in your throat, hearing that tight ache—the same raw yearning to match your own. You want to obey. 

But there’s no give to the whipcord. The bindings on your wrist pull tighter the farther your feet draw apart. Though you can still balance, your shoulders start to burn from the stretch. Slowly, you rise onto tiptoes. But not fast enough—

Wrapping an arm around your waist, the Mandalorian lifts you from the floor. 

“Wider,” he commands, gripping you roughly by the knee to pry open your thighs with his other hand. You have to bite back a scream. By now, you’re so wound up that just the sensation—the air cool against your wet center, his powerful chest pressed against your back, his fingers digging into your skin makes you drunk with lust. 

“You’re so wet already, senaar'ika. It’s slicking down your thighs,” the Mandalorian groans, breath warm against the back of your neck. His hand gripping your knee slides upward between your legs, tracing toward the heat of your skin. “No wonder you were begging me to fuck you.”

His fingers part and probe—massaging in slow, firm circles that spiral until you’re panting. Every stroke sends pleasure pulsing through you, and you can’t stop yourself from whimpering. 

“You like it when I use my hand?” he asks, voice maddeningly calm. Only the persistent throbbing against your hip, matching each beat of his heart, betrays his arousal. When you release a sigh in desperate delight, he says, “Maybe this is how I should start.”

And fuck, if Mando doesn’t knows exactly where to touch you—how much to bear down and how fast to go.

“Mmmph,” a moan of deep satisfaction escapes his lips as he thrusts two fingers inside you, sending a gush of wetness welling against his palm. He pushes them in and out, obviously relishing the obscene squelching sound.

Wait! When did he take off his helmet? 

No. No, this is forbidden. This is dangerous. 

You couldn’t move your head to look at him even if you wanted to, but your eyes shut tightly just the same. The fear of seeing his face, the dire consequences, amplify every panicked thought running through your mind, heightening every sensation—his fingers curling, his thumb pressing down over your clit.  

Your breaths come sharp and shallow now. All the blood in your body rushing between your legs. The stimulation is almost too much to bear, the excitement and panic roiling within you—the Mandalorian dipping his fingers inside, slipping them out to circle and stroke. Drawing a wet line between your cunt over and over.

Desire ripples through you in waves. Your body tightens, muscles clenching. Your bound hands keep straining in their futile urge to grab his wrist, your knees fighting against him to shut tight around his thrusting fingers. 

You’re close now. So close, you’re on the brink.

He kisses the back of your neck, “Don’t worry. I’m going to take good care of you.”

“Aaangh!” That’s when he presses harder, circles faster, and you come, “Haaa-aah!” 

Your orgasm crashes through you in a tidal wave that upends gravity. You cry out desperately with all the air left in your lungs—the relentless pounding of your heartbeat against your eardrums making you dizzy. 

“Haa-aah! Aaah!” 

Losing equilibrium, you sway, and the bindings pull painfully around your wrists. You’re at the limits of your flexibility, fighting to keep your balance before the Mandalorian’s muscular arm tightens around your waist, until he’s bearing enough of your weight to keep you upright.

“I’ve got you,” he says gently, pressing a tender kiss over your head. “Stand up. Come on. Legs spread. You know what I want.”

You shift on your heels, testing your unsteady knees. “I can’t—” but your words break off into a gasp when he clasps his hand around your throat, warm and sticky with your come.

“Shhhh,” he whispers against your temple. “I told you not to open your mouth unless I said so.”

His tone is soft, and he kisses you tenderly again through a tangle of damp hair, your forehead glistening with sweat. But his fingers grip tighter in warning. 

“Don’t speak unless you’re begging me for more.”

You nod once in understanding.

“Smart girl,” he says, and without the helmet on, you can hear the wry grin on his lips. “I’m glad we understand each other. It’s going to make everything so much easier. But just to be sure—”

His wide palm fans out from your waist, gliding down your body to slip over the curve of your buttocks. 

Then he brings it down in a sharp smack that echoes through the quiet cabin. Hearing that slap, feeling the sting on your skin, the burning heat that radiates from his handprint—shakes you from the hazy lust. 

It’s not enough to want to obey. 

“I’m going to take good care of you, senaar'ika. But you have to do as you’re told.”

While he’s playing a role, the pain is very real. Yet this fantasy is about your powerlessness. Whatever the Mandalorian wants to do to you, you have to take it. Yes, the pain is undeniable—but the adrenaline?—it sharpens the hunger.

When you finally regain your balance and tilt your pelvis forward at just the right angle, your ass brushes against his straining erection, and he groans, a low vibration you feel through his chest. Arousal arcs through you, and you gasp responsively. Even now, as your body tingles numbly in the aftermath of climax, your cunt still aches, longing to be full of him.

With his entire body sealed against you, you feel the firm pressure swelling against your ass. It throbs, heat radiating through the canvas flight suit. The coarse fabric is rough, rubbing over your slapped skin. 

“You feel that?” he whispers, grinding the entire length of his cock against you. “That’s what you’re going to take for me.”

Holy fuck, he’s huge. Thick, too. Your mind reels at the impossibility; can you really fit him inside you?

“You’re going to take it all,” the bounty hunter huffs, as if he’d heard your thoughts. “You’re going to come with my cock buried in your ass.”

Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck! 

It’s something you’ve talked about, something you said you wanted and prepared for, but….you’ve never had anyone this big up your ass before. He’s going to tear you apart. 

“Are you scared? Because trust me, I’m going to make you ready. You’re going to beg me for it. Then you’ll come so hard with my cock in your ass, nothing else will ever feel as good.”

The hormones that suddenly surge through your body make arousal indistinguishable from panic. You should be so afraid, and yet, you want this. Under the fear, you’re still full of need, urgent, and emphatic.

“After that, if you’re lucky, then I’ll fuck your mouth.”

Shit! Shit, that’s…you try to banish away the shame washing over you. He’s going to claim your body in every way imaginable, use you filthy—and it feels like you shouldn’t want this. But you do. 

“Don’t worry,”  he sighs, voice sounding softer now, gentle. “I’m not going to rush this. First, I want to explore your beautiful body.”

You feel the cold Beskar plates against the backs of your thighs and shiver.

His hands slide outward along your shoulder blades, curving down and around just enough for his fingers to lightly brush the sides of your breasts. Then, the Mandalorian’s arms circle you, reaching up to grasp them in both hands. Arousal rekindles as he kneads and squeezes, pressing them together tightly. Igniting as he tugs and pinches. 

And when your nipples are so tender you whine, “Mmmph!” he soothes them in his wide palms. 

“You—are—so—beautiful,” he moans, kissing the curve of your jaw. 

Behind you, his lips trail soft, open-mouth kisses down the back of your neck, between your shoulders, along your spine, and lower, until he drops to one knee. His hands trace over your ribcage, your sides, the indentation of your waist, and the flare of your hips. 

The pads of his fingertips are coarse but tender.

“Look at you. Legs spread. Open and wet for me. When I dream of you, this is what I’ll see.”  

Then he crouches between your knees to press lighter, softer kisses up the inside of your thighs, teasing you until you grow desperate with anticipation. “Haa!” you gasp, already panting. 

Spirals of arousal coil through you, so dizzying you have to grip the whipcord for balance. 

Soon, you’re lost to anything but the desire for him to taste you. That he’s risked so much by removing his helmet is the only thing keeping you from breaking position, regardless of the punishment. That’s how much you long to tilt your hips and rub yourself against his mouth. 

Don’t speak unless you’re begging me for more. Would he like it if you begged?

“Please,” you whimper, voice full of desperation. 

He groans in satisfaction before making one long sweep of his tongue, right through the very center of your urgent longing. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes!”  

“I like hearing you beg.” Then his lips press firmly between your thighs, enfolding you in his warm, wet mouth.

Okay, wow, he’s good at this. He’s really, really good at this. 

The Mandalorian’s tongue searches for your clit, stroking and circling in a rhythm that drags you back to the brink almost instantly. But slowly, agonizingly slowly, to hold you at the edge of pleasure—like he could do this, keep you suspended there—forever.  

“Show me how much you want it,” he says, hot breath tickling against your delicate skin. 

If you could bury your fingers in his hair, you would. Instead, you shift all of your weight onto one leg, using what remains of your equilibrium to drape the other over his shoulder, feeling the rough stubble of his beard and the shell of his ear press against the inside of your thigh. 

Helping you balance, one strong hand grips you by the hipbone while the other slips over your knee before guiding his mouth between the sopping wet folds of your cunt. 

You tense every muscle, digging your heel into his sinewy back to try to keep him there. Right there! 

He rewards you by lapping faster—and then, when you cry out, speeding up even more. “Sing for me, senaar'ika.”

Every throb of pleasure ripples through your body from your nipples to your scalp, all the way down to your toes, until you can’t help yourself from rocking your hips, increasing the pressure just a little more. You feel each bob and turn of his head as he keeps at it, caressing you in spirals as a long, luscious wave of ecstasy swells inside you.

Mando’s fingers tighten around your thigh to hold you in place. He keeps going, maintaining his rhythm so that you can ride each cresting surge. It builds low, climbing and arcing higher, and when it finally overwhelms you, when you let go, and it rushes through you—you do sing. You cry out in one long wail that lasts the length and breadth of your climax.

Your body goes limp once the orgasm fades, and just like last time, the Mandalorian is the only source of strength to keep you upright. Hands clutching your hips, he pulls back to place a wet, sticky kiss low on your belly, then says, “We’re not done yet, little dove. Not nearly done yet.”

Gods in heaven, how much more of this can you take? You’d love nothing better than to sink to the floor in post-orgasmic bliss…but his cock is still in his pants. 

Too afraid to look down, you feel his body shifting between your knees and wonder, what next? Should you offer to reciprocate? Fuck, you want to. Right now, you want him in your mouth so badly that it’s all you can do not to beg for it. 

Your lips part, the words ready on your tongue—

When suddenly, he lifts you by the back of your thighs, settling you on top of his shoulders. You barely have time to gasp, to grip the braided cable between your hands—to think—before he buries his face between your thighs again.

“Oh, gods!” you gasp. “Oh, haah…!”

The tension in the whipcord keeps you from falling backward, but you feel precariously weightless sitting on his shoulders. Reeling, overstimulated from your last orgasm, you instinctively try to writhe away from the press of his wet tongue, his hot mouth, the coarse hair of his beard, and nearly lose your balance. 

Mando steadies you, wrapping his arms around your lower back, ass braced against his thick biceps as he works, tongue parting the soft creases of your cunt to find your sore, throbbing clit. 

This time, he holds nothing back, laving and shaking his head until your vision starts to blur; the pleasure is so intense it’s blinding. 

Oh shit! Merciful gods, this might break you. It’s too much. Too much. But you can’t move. Caged in his arms, you have to take what he gives. It feels so good. 

You don’t think it can get any better until he starts to suck. After that, you can’t think about anything anymore. Your mind is just blank. Static. White noise.

Fuck! You’re at the brink again—so fucking close—your heartbeat is thundering against your ribs. The muscles of your inner thighs lock, clenching around his jaw. Your body is poised right there. Right there! That exhilarating moment before—

And at that's when the Mandalorian slips a finger, slick with your come, inside your ass. 

The sensation kindles alarm, and your entire body tenses in response. All your instincts awaken in primal fear to remind you just how vulnerable you are.

Okay! It's okay! Just relax. 

In answer, his other hand begins sweeping up and down your thigh, caressing and soothing the tension away. 

That’s right. You have to relax. He’s doing this for you, to make you ready. Right now, your pleasure is the only thing that matters. Focus on his tongue circling your clit, his finger gently caressing millions of tiny nerve endings. 

But he slides up so seamlessly, so deep inside you, the pressure pools in your abdomen, and you gasp, “Oh, gods!” again.

Don’t resist the sensation—yield to it. Work with it. Take what you need.

Pulling on the whipcord for leverage, you thrust your hips against his mouth. He groans in encouragement, responding by sucking harder, licking faster—and then, spearing his tongue inside you.

Okay, yes. Yes! Gods, yes! You have never come so soon after your last orgasm, but he’s going to get you there.

That’s when he adds a second finger. 

You feel it stretch you, but your body doesn’t resist this time. And when he starts working them back and forth in rhythm with the thrusting of his tongue, it starts to feel so good. So good.

Each rut of his tongue and stroke of his fingers sends heat coursing through you, so flushed now that your skin seems to be on fire. Your hair clings to your sweaty cheeks. But nothing is as hot as his breath between your thighs. 

So you move faster, rubbing yourself against the raw stubble of his chin, the tip of his nose, drowning him in your cunt. All the while, he increases the pressure of his fingers just a little more, massaging inside you. 

You start to shake, the muscles in your legs trembling, as the Mandalorian twists his hand, rolls his wrist, and you feel the brush of his knuckles against the tender skin of your asshole. 

Then, he sucks your clit between his teeth, and you come in a burst of ecstasy so sharp it makes you scream. There’s a second when your vision goes entirely white—like staring into a bright sun—and your heart thumps so hard you hear the blood rushing in your ears.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs against your stomach.

His fingers gently slip out of you so he can grasp you by the ribcage with both hands, bracing you as you shudder through the ricocheting aftermath of your orgasm. 

“You taste like heaven.” 

He would know. His face, his hands, his neck, and shoulders are all covered in your come.  

“I told you I’d take care of you,” Mando’s broad hands stroke the length of your back, and the sound of his voice melts away any lingering doubts. He knows when to be gentle and when to be rough. You can trust him with this. 

When the bounty hunter ducks his head out from between your thighs, you think you’ll have to stand up again, get back into position. And you know you’ll be punished—but you can’t. You’re shaking too much for that. 

It doesn’t matter. Your feet never touch the floor. Bending you at the waist, he slings you over one broad, muscular shoulder, so that you dangle limp and dizzy, upside down as he steps into a lunge to lift you both off the ground. Tearing your wrists free from the whipcord at last, your arms fall numbly behind him, blood rushing back into your digits.

Draped over his shoulder like a hunter’s prize, he strides across the cabin toward the bed. 

Perhaps you’re delirious—you must be after three orgasms. Or maybe it’s because your fingers are so desperate to find new life. But when you look up (or is it down?) to see his perfectly sculpted ass outlined in dark gray canvas about a foot from your face…weak as you are, you can’t stop yourself from reaching for it. Your hand stretches lower until you feel its firm contours press satisfyingly against your palm. And gods help you, but you squeeze. Hard.

The Mandalorian chuckles, a deep booming laugh that has your knees jostling against his chest. You’re breaking from the submissive fantasy, but maybe he won’t—

“I knew you wanted it,” he laughs, voice full of triumph as—fingers splayed wide, he slaps his hand down over your ass cheek—the exact same spot as last time—so hard the sting brings tears to your eyes. 

Fuck! Your jaw drops. The pain sharpens all of your senses, bringing everything into focus. Your thighs squeeze together, cunt clenching against the sensation. Fuck that stings. Right. He’s back in the role. Time to be rough.

“You’ve wanted my cock inside you since the moment I stepped through that door. Haven’t you?” 

When he tosses you onto the bed, you fall onto the mattress, flat on your belly. But before you can get to your hands beneath you, he presses a knee down between your shoulder blades to keep you from moving. 

“You want to beg me some more, senaar'ika?”

The silk belt of your robe slips over your eyes, and he lashes it tightly behind your head. 

“Tell me!” he demands, like he’s making you confess to something. 

“Yes,” you whisper into the sheets, words muffled by the bedding. 

“Yes, what?”

“I want your cock.”

“Where?” he asks, and the sound of him tugging down his zipper fills your ears.

“Inside me,” you gulp. “I want your cock inside me.”   

You hear him tearing open the condom wrapper, “That’s right. Beg me to fuck you.” 

“Please—”

Then he’s on top of you, hands pressing into the mattress on either side of your face, his knee lifting from your back to part your thighs, his massive weight pinning you underneath him. 

Reaching between your naked bodies, he wraps a hand around the base of his shaft to rub the swollen head of his cock along the cleft of your ass, back and forth, slicking the entrance before he pushes inside you.

You cry out in shock. 

So does he.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, that’s so tight! Haa, haa!”

Leaning forward, he places a soft kiss atop your head, pausing with just the first few inches of him inside, letting your body stretch to fit him. 

“You okay?” he whispers quietly against your cheek, his face damp with sweat. 

When you nod, he begins tracing his tongue over your earlobe, kissing your jaw and the corner of your mouth. His beard is still drenched with your come.

“This feels amazing,” his breath is hot in your ear. “Just this. You're gripping me so tight.”

You’re tempted to stop here, to say the safe word. And you trust Mando to stop; you know he would. That’s why he’s reminding you. And this does feel amazing, his body enfolding you, the rub of his bare skin over yours, the feeling of every firm muscle pressing into your soft curves—the pressure inside you. 

But you want this. You want all of him.

“More,” you moan.

The aching burn is so intense as his enormous cock plunges deeper inside you—slowly, but without ceasing. “Oh fuck!” he gasps. “Fuuuuck, that feels so good. Almost, ha-aah…almost. It’s almost in.”

The burn as he opens you—the way the entire universe narrows to this bodily sensation, until you perceive nothing but its fantastic pressure—only anal sex does this for you. But its so hard to trust someone to be careful, to make you feel safe in spite of being so vulnerable and powerless. Mando does that. 

“I’m going to start, haah…I’m going to start moving, okay?” he says, panting from arousal and restraint.

Adjusting his weight onto his elbows, he rolls his hips gently, strokes building. There’s so much lubricant on the condom; each shallow thrust is frictionless, but you’re still trembling like one of the strings of your valachord. 

“Haah, you feel so good. So—nnngh—so fucking good!” Threading his fingers through your hair, his forehead drops against your neck, and the heat from each ragged breath spills over your shoulders. “Anngh!”

Then he starts fucking you in earnest. He pushes deeper now, pulling out further to feel the grip of your asshole squeeze up and down the length of his shaft. Already, you feel arousal peaking within you with each long, slow stroke. 

Mando’s width and length stretches you, makes you burn. And you moan, fingers twining in the sheets as the pleasure becomes indistinguishable from the pain. 

“You like this?” his voice is teasing again, getting back into the role.

“Mm-hmm,” you moan, unable to form words. 

It’s like you can’t feel anything but him moving inside you, pleasure surging in ebbs and flows, like a tidal current. It’s hard to describe. The barrier between your anus and cunt is so thin you feel him everywhere. It burns, this inner blazing heat. 

It’s a sweet agony, like the handprint on your ass, making everything tingle with sensitivity, amplifying every sensation. Even the pressure of the mattress against your clit is enough to send a thrill through you.

“Is this the biggest cock you’ve ever taken?” 

You cry out in torment and desire as he shoves into you harder this time, and your whole body bends and turns in a desperate effort to accept every inch.

“Yes,” you want to sob into the mattress. It aches. It’s so fucking good you could scream.

“You’re taking it so good,” he whispers as he sinks in even deeper. “That’s it.”

And he’s finally all the way inside you now, so deep that when he starts thrusting, you feel the slap of his sac against the dip of your cunt. Each stroke presses you harder against the mattress—hitting you where it feels best inside and out. 

And strong, so strong he pushes your body upward on the bed.

“I want to fuck you like this all night.” His voice is tight with strain—just barely holding on, waiting for you.

But he’s not moving fast enough for you to come.

“More,” you whimper into the damp folds of silk.

Mando pushes in again, burying himself balls-deep inside you before whispering against your shoulder, “What's that?”

You need more. “I need more…I need—”

“You worried I won’t fuck you hard enough?” he laughs, plunges in deep, and bites the soft flesh of your shoulder. It’s not enough to break the skin—but you cry out from the painfully sweet ache of it.

“Beg me, senaar'ika,” he says, sitting back on his heels, filling his lungs with each heaving breath. “Tell me what I want to hear.”

But this time, you don’t want to obey. You don’t want to say please. You want to find out exactly how hard the Mandalorian can give it to you. If you want to come with him, you need more, and you know how to get it. 

You turn your head so he can see the jut of your chin, fill your voice with challenge and say, “For the love of god, fuck me harder.”

The bounty hunter scoffs in shocked bemusement.

His arm hooks around your elbows, pinning them behind you, “You’ll regret that, little dove.” 

Then he yanks back on your arms, pulling you off the bed, and against his chest. Your ass presses into the bowl of his hips, thighs sealed against his. His other hand slides up your stomach and between your breasts to clasp around your throat. A touch that means possession. 

The Mandalorian owns you now, and he knows it.

Mando slams into you, and you want to cry out—but you stifle it somehow. You don’t want him to stop. You’re so wound up that tears well against your eyelids, dampening the blindfold. It scares you how much you want this. Gods help you, but you do. You fucking love it.

His thrusts remain slow at first. Deliberate. Punishing. Yes, punish me! His pelvis clashes against your buttocks like the snap of a paddle. But the tempo increases as he starts to get into it. Soon, he pumps into you so hard that it makes your breasts bounce, and your entire body starts to sweat. Your hair swings around your face, tendrils sticking to your neck, your flushed cheeks and forehead.

He never loosens his grip. Your shoulders start to ache from being pulled back so far—your throat throbs against his palm—and yet you want nothing more than the slap of his body, the feel of his cock filling you. It’s like he’s reaching to the core of your very being with every thrust.

Yes, you think, fuck me. Make me take it.

The bounty hunter’s hand tightens around your throat—unconsciously, you think—because of how close he is. Each ragged breath vibrates against your back. You can still breathe, but his grip keeps you dizzy and light-headed. 

A sharp thrust, and your arousal climbs. Another, and it goes higher. Mando bucks and bucks, and the world behind your eyelids becomes bright and sparkly around the edges. Sensation shivers upward through you, strengthening by the moment.

The climax builds from somewhere deep inside you, and you sink into it with every thrust, slipping deeper into pure instinctive sensation, until it claims your whole body in white-hot ecstasy. When you come, the desperation in your wordless cries transforms into a feral scream as you fall forward, tumbling back onto the sheets when he releases you. 

The silk feels so cool and smooth against your feverish cheeks. 

“Haah, aah! I knew you’d love it,” he groans triumphantly. “Nnngh!”

But he’s almost at the brink himself—his body contracting, abdominals clenching. That’s when he pulls out, denying himself release.

The mattress dips and creeks as he climbs off you, and off the bed. 

“I’m not done with you yet, senaar'ika. We’re not even close.”

You hear the snap of latex when he removes the condom.

What next? You’re limp and dizzy, lying sprawled across the covers. Will he make me come so hard I pass out? Fuck me until I can't walk straight? You shouldn’t want that as much as you do, but complete surrender can feel so sweet. 

“I can do this all night,” Mando pants.

Then, he lunges across the bed and grabs your ankles so tightly you feel the press of his thumbs dig into your bones as he drags you down the mattress, until your legs dangle off the side. The tips of your toes brush against the floor. 

“You thought you could push me?” His voice has lowered almost to a growl. “But that’s not how this works. You belong to me.”

He pushes your thighs apart roughly, then clutches your hair and tugs back hard enough to bring renewed tears to your eyes. Bent over the edge of the mattress like that in front of him, you feel his other hand seize you by the hip, and with that, he shoves the whole thick length of his cock inside your cunt.

“Aaah!” you cry out as he starts thrusting faster. His fist in your hair tightens as he pumps into you, and already you know you’re going to come again. How is that even possible?

“That’s right,” he pants. “You know you have to take it, don’t you?”

“Yes!” Yes, make me take it. Gods help you, but you fucking love it. There’s nothing you love more than the slap of his body, the feel of his cock. “Yes!”

"Because you're mine. Mine to fuck."

"Yours."

Mando fucks you so hard and so fast. Your ass would not have been able to take this. Shallow rapid thrusts until, growling, he rams his full length into you. Then he’s pumping inside you again and again. By now, the shame you think you should feel at being taken like this has been eclipsed by the pleasure surging within you. 

Every single goddamned stroke of the Mandalorian’s cock sets you on fire. A wildfire so hot it consumes you, burns you down to nothing. You press your face into the mattress and feel the tears welling in your eyes spill down your cheeks, pooling against the sheets.

The only sounds in the cabin are his guttural grunts of pleasure and the slap of your bodies against each other. Just hearing it turns you on even more. 

He’s moving faster now, and you’re nothing but heat. Pleasure tightens, blazing inside you. 

Mando fucks you, and fucks you, and then you’re coming again, clenching around his cock. You come so hard that consciousness is nothing but white light, white noise. Your cry is muffled by the sheets and blankets, but you wail it out anyway, unable to hold back.

“Yes,” he whispers as he pistons even faster than before, his hand on your hip gripping tighter. “Fuck, yes—”

The Mandalorian groans as he throbs inside you. He goes tense, makes an animal sound that seems to come from low in his belly, and slams into you one more time.

Then he’s pulling you off the bed and onto your knees. You feel his wet cock press against your face. His voice is hardly more than a whisper, trembling with need. “Open your mouth.”

His fist in your hair doesn’t leave you much choice. You open, and Mando pushes inside. "You're going to swallow all of it."

It’s all you can do to take him in. You taste your come slick around his cock as it slides between your lips. He’s so huge that you can barely use your tongue, but you bob your head, doing your best as he thrusts, shallow and then deep.

The Mandalorian's grip takes control, sometimes pushing no more than the head of his cock into your mouth, and you suck, hallowing your cheeks—then shoving into your throat, making you choke and gag around him.

It doesn’t take long.

He shouts out, and then he comes, filling your mouth. You swallow it down, every drop, the sensation of him throbbing between your lips, almost lost in the spasms of pleasure still echoing through you.

The Mandalorian pulls out then. The fingers buried in your hair release their grip. Pausing one long moment to regain his breath, he brushes the sweat-soaked hair from your cheeks. 

“You have no idea how beautiful you look right now.”

Really? Blindfolded. Flushed and sweaty, legs tangled beneath you, slumped against the bed frame?

But the honest tenderness in his voice has you pressing a hand to your chest. 

His cock is still half-hard, nuzzled against your cheek, and there’s a second when you’re tempted to pull him down to slide back onto it. But…you’ve reached your limits. 

And the Mandalorian is in no better shape. You hear him collapse onto his knees beside you on the floor, crawling over on his hands and knees to reach for something. His helmet, maybe?

But it’s not his Beskar. 

Gently, he drapes the soft folds of your robe over your shoulders and gathers you in his arms. He leans back, sitting propped against the bed, settling you onto his lap. You let your head fall against his chest and delight when he rests his chin atop your head. 

“Are you alright?” he murmurs. 

“Yeah,” you manage to form words. “Just give me a second. I’m…melting.” 

That makes him chuckle, and for a while, you both stay like that, laughing, breathing hard, barely able to move.

“I wasn’t too rough?”

“No! No, you were perfect. I loved it. It’s like—like you read my mind from that night we met. It was everything I wanted. You took such good care of me.”

His voice remains concerned. “But you’re shaking all over?” and his arms wrap tighter around you.

“It was just so intense.” 

“Here,” he says pressing a cup of tea into your hands, then lifting it to your lips when your fingers tremble too much to grip it tight enough. Fatherhood has softened him.  

“Are you?” you ask timidly.

“Am I what?”

“Are you okay?” You feel strangely shy in front of a man who just fucked you senseless. “I mean, was it okay that I asked you to do this? Are you okay with being—with what we did?”

“It was amazing,” he sighs, kissing your temple. 

But that doesn’t really answer your question.

Honestly, this is the part you were most afraid of…that it would change everything. That no matter how good the sex had or hadn’t been, you thought, afterward, he’d lose respect for you, and it wouldn’t be worth it. 

You don’t want his judgment or pity for needing this.

But there's no contempt in his voice. He doesn’t sound righteous. Or cold, or callous. And he doesn’t seem intent on sneaking out to leave you alone in regret. 

“Before, I was worried that I might hurt you…and that was hard to balance against my desire to protect you," the Mandalorian says thoughtfully. "But you made more than enough noise to let me know how much you enjoyed it.”

“Oh gods,” you laugh, clapping a hand over your mouth, absolutely mortified. 

“That was the best part,” Mando lifts your hand from your face, tilting your chin up to kiss your nose, then your lips, not shying away like some men do, after they've come in your mouth. So you part your lips and feel the brush of his tongue against yours. His fingers wrap around your neck, deepening the kiss, and pulling you closer.

It’s not the unbridled passion from before–it’s tenderness and longing. Two lonely hearts finding shelter in a precious moment of fragile intimacy.  

“I was just surprised, given…”

“Some of my clients never touch me. Some have hurt me—said horrific things. Most are rich businessmen,” you shrug. “Nervous about cheating on their wives. Regardless—given what they pay, they all expect a performance... 

So it’s nice to let someone else put in the work,” your lips tug into a sly grin. “Seriously, five times? And your dom talk is shockingly good! The growling is very hot!” Guess it's true what they say about the quiet ones. "Now I get why Anassa keeps offering you a job."

"She told you that?" He scoffs.

"Hmm, she likes to tease me about having a crush on the Mandalorian."

Nestled into the crook of his arm, you feel the rumble of renewed laughter building in his chest. 

"She told me I could keep the armor on."

You reach a hand behind you to stroke his jaw and bury your fingers in his hair. "I'm glad you didn't."

Mando's head turns in your grasp to place a soft kiss against your palm.

“And you don’t think differently of me for…wanting this?”

"I know the difference between fantasy and reality," then he leans forward to stroke your earlobe with the tip of his nose. "And I bet I could make you scream just as loud, taking you soft and sweet."

Now why does that make you blush redder than your slapped ass?

“Maybe next time, we can switch roles. Then I’ll understand better why you like it.”  

Next time? You love that! He’s already thinking about the future. 

Your brow arches, “Maybe I'll tie you up—borrow one of Katlin's whips to smack that tight ass of yours.”

“Oh, yeah?” 

There are no words for the wicked anticipation in Mando’s voice. 

Next time...

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

Thanks so much for reading!!

[remember-that-one-blog]

As We Go Along (Part 1)

You were offered up as a payment to a mob boss by your father and step-mother. He agreed. Now you're the fiance of the most feared man in New York.

I do not own these characters!

Warnings: Abuse not openly mentioned but is talked about.

This first part is more of a background and getting to know each other chapter. More to come!

You were a burden. At least that’s the way they made you feel. You were from your father’s first marriage. Your mother had died when you were young and your step-mother never had anything for you. She never loved you, but she loved your sister. The daughter she had with your father. You knew this but you never thought she would talk your father into doing this to you. Marrying you off to some mob boss so he could get himself out of debt that he got himself in. She came up with it and he took it to the boss’ right hand man. Two days letter you’re engaged. You didn’t care either way. You hadn’t met the man yet, but you had heard rumors. He  was cold-hearted and cruel. Nothing you weren’t used to. 

Your father told you that you were to meet him tomorrow at his home. 

“You will meet him tomorrow at noon. Here is the address. It should be easy enough to find.” 

“Yes, sir.” Your father nodded without another word. That let you know that you were on your own now. Not that you haven’t been since your mom died. You packed up what little you had. Everything you owned fit into one duffle bag. As you laid in your bed for the last time you looked back on your time here with your family. You decided nowhere could be worse than here. With that thought in mind you slipped into a dreamless sleep.

~

You stood outside your childhood home giving it one last glance. It was bittersweet leaving this place. This is where you had all the memories of your mother, but this place had also been your living hell. You turned away with all the good memories of your mother in the forefront of your mind. A small part of you felt she was leaving with you as well. 

You made your way to the bus stop. You looked at the address and read the bus schedule so you knew which bus you would need to take. It was hard, you had been getting around like this for years. You found when the bus you needed would be here you had hoped you left early enough just in case of any delays the buses may have. 

~

You timed it just right. You made it to the address with ten minutes to spare. Although, all you saw was a giant gate but no house. A loud beep caught made you jump. That’s when you saw the intercom.

“State your business.”

“I’m Alexander Pierce’s daughter. I’m supposed to meet Mr. Barnes.” You heard the gate buzz open. A tall, blonde man in a black suit appeared before you in a black SUV. He stepped out to greet you.

“Ms. Pierce, Mr. Barnes has been expecting you. My name is Steve. I can help you with your bags.” He looked around you confused. You felt your face go bright red.

“This is all I have.” You grabbed your duffle bag by the handle. You saw something flash in his eyes but you weren’t sure what. He nodded and held the front door open for you. 

“Here, I’ll put it in the back for you.” Steve took your duffle and sat it in the back seat. 

“Thank you.” He gave you his hand to help you as you climbed into the front seat. This was new for you. You had never been treated this well. Maybe they were expecting someone else. You couldn’t help as these thoughts ran through your mind. Steve could tell you didn’t want to talk so he left the two of you in a comfortable silence. 

It was a short drive to the house you were going to. It was more of a mansion. You felt your mouth drop at the sight. You heard Steve chuckle a bit. Your face went red again.

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. You’ll be fine. He’s not so bad once you get to know him.”

“You know him pretty well then?”

“I do. Been friends since we were kids. I know him better than he knows himself most of the time.” You nodded as you took in this information. That gave you a little bit of hope, not that you really ever clinged to it. Steve stopped the vehicle as you reached the front door. He got out, grabbed your bag, and proceeded to help you down onto the ground. “Take a deep breath and follow me. You’ll be fine.”

You nodded as you followed Steve up the stairs. The front door itself was huge. You don’t think you’ve ever seen a place this big. Not that someone lived in any way. As you stepped inside you tried to take it all in. It was beautiful. Everything seemed to be decorated in light gray, white, and gold accents. While it was beautiful it didn’t have that homey feel that most homes do. Given what he does, that's not too surprising. There were tall windows everywhere. It made everything look even bigger. It was very modern. You were still reeling as you followed Steve further into the house. As you reached your destination you heard yelling that made you jump. Steve steadied you with a hand to your shoulder. 

“It’s okay. Give me a minute while I go talk to him.” You just nodded. Steve sat your bag down beside you and knocked three times on the door.

“Come in!” Steve cracked the door and stuck his head in,

“Buck, it’s Pierce’s daughter.”

“Send her in.” Steve stepped back out to usher you inside the room. Once you entered your eyes went straight to the man behind the desk. He was handsome. Dark hair and bright blue eyes. He was almost as tall as Steve and just as built as he was. He was in a dark gray three piece suit.

“Ms. Pierce, I’ve been expecting you. How did your driver find the place?” You felt yourself deflate. So he had been expecting your sister. You wanted to ask but couldn’t bring yourself to, afraid of the answer. 

“Uh, I didn’t - I mean, I brought myself. I don’t have a driver.” Bucky stopped what he was doing. You were looking down at the floor. He said your name just loud enough. Surprised you glanced up at him.

“You mean to tell me, your father sent you here alone?”

“Yes, sir. He did.” Bucky felt his skin crawl. At first glance he thought you were beautiful. Nothing would change that. As he looked closer though he could tell you weren’t taken care of. He could tell you had been given the bare minimum to survive. That was something that would not bode well with him.

“Why would he send you here alone?” You knew the true answer, but you were sure Bucky didn’t want to hear that.

“He had other business to attend to and I was capable of making it here myself.” Bucky didn’t like that answer.

“That’s not an acceptable reason.” That surprised you. “And doll, you can call me Bucky, everyone else does. ‘Sir’ is what everyone called my father.” His nickname for you caught you by surprise. You weren’t sure how to feel about it, but you didn’t hate it

“Of course, sir- I mean, Bucky.” Bucky straightened his tie and made his way to you.

“I have a meeting in a couple of minutes, I don’t have time to show you around or I would. Steve can show you around. I just have two rules.” You nodded to show you were listening. “Never go anywhere alone and never knock on or open this door if it’s closed. The only exception is if it is an emergency. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Steve, if you’ll show her around. I’ll meet you for dinner around seven, doll. I’ll take you out and we’ll get to know each other.” Before you could answer his phone rang. You followed Steve back out of the office and watched him pull the door closed. Steve must have sensed your hesitation.

“Just put on the best clothes you have, sweetheart.” You just nodded. You really didn’t have anything to go out in. You would see what you had though. You followed Steve around as he showed you where everything was. What you couldn’t wait to use was the kitchen. You loved to cook and bake. You didn’t get the chance to do it much at home, but maybe you could here. Finally, Steve showed you to your room. It was three times bigger than your old room was. You had what seemed to be a king sized bed, a little balcony that overlooked the backyard, an en suite bathroom and a closet that you could fit your entire old room in.

“Bucky thought you would want some space. He knows this wasn’t up to you.”

“I’ll have to tell him thank you.” Steve sat your duffle bag beside the bed. 

“I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.”

“Thank you, Steve.” He closed your door as he left. You looked around and laid down on the bed. It was so soft and cozy! You couldn’t believe it. You pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Maybe, just maybe, this would be okay. 

~

Steve listened for you but you seemed to be unpacking. He could hear you moving around. Once he was sure you were okay, he went to talk to Bucky. Steve saw the door cracked and eased his way inside. Bucky was on the phone but he wasn’t as heated as earlier. He saw Steve made his way to him and ended the call. Steve made his way over to a seat in front of Bucky’s desk.

“So, anything?”

“She’s not anything like her father. She seems to be the exact opposite. She’s quiet, reserved. She doesn’t own a lot, Buck. She came here with one duffle bag. One.” That made Bucky’s skin prickle. He knew Pierce was a harsh man but didn’t think he would be harsh with his daughter.

“So you don’t think this is a set up?”

“If it is, she doesn’t know about it. From what I can tell she wouldn’t do something like that. She’s too soft spoken to do or go along with something like that.”

“I picked up on that, too. I don’t think she was treated well there.” Steve shook his head. 

“I don’t think she was either. She seems to be genuine. Which is a surprise considering who her father is.” Bucky nodded. This was unusual, even for him. He normally wouldn’t agree to something like this, but he was looking to settle down as well. The last few women he dated only wanted him for money. He was hoping this might change that.

“Where did you plan on taking her tonight?”

“I’m not sure yet. Why?”

“I don’t think she has anything to wear to a nice restaurant. She seemed a bit panicked when you brought it up.”

“We’ll eat in tonight then. Would you care to go get it?”

“Not at all. You could go talk to her if you want. She’s good, Buck. You could use some good.” Bucky nodded. That was true he could. Steve got up to go get dinner while Bucky debated on going to find you.

~

You decided to go look around yourself taking your time. You couldn’t find Steve so you decided to go downstairs and see if you could find him there. You looked down the small hallway to see Bucky’s office door was cracked. You thought about going to ask him if you could look around yourself, but your thoughts were distracted by the kitchen. It was state-of-the-art. The mixers, the pans, the refrigerator. Everything was something out of one of your dreams. Your thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. You jumped, turning around to see Bucky standing behind you.

“There you are. I thought you would still be unpacking.”

“No, it didn’t take me long. Sorry, I was just curious to see what you had in here. It’s amazing.” You looked around, still blown away by his kitchen. 

“No need to apologize. Make yourself at home.” You gave him a small smile. You weren’t sure you knew how to do that. Bucky made his way over to one of the bar stools. He sat down while he eyed you from across the counter. He studied you as you studied him. He seemed to be a little more relaxed. His jacket was off and the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Bucky noticed you changed into an oversized sweatshirt, some leggings and fuzzy socks. You seemed so cozy. “So, tell me about yourself, doll. What do you like to do?”

“There isn’t much to tell really. I help my family out when I can and bake if I get the chance.” Bucky nodded his head.

“What’s your favorite thing to bake?”

“Chocolate chip cookies, any kind of cookie really but definitely chocolate chip.”

“Would you wanna make some?” You felt your eyes get big. “No one uses the kitchen much. I usually either go out or order in and no one ever bakes.” You felt yourself getting excited.

“Yeah, I’d love to.” You gave Bucky a genuine smile. Those were very rare for you. Bucky gave you one back, his were probably as rare as yours were, maybe even moreso.

~

Many cookies later, you and Bucky asked small questions at first. You found out he loved sweets and would love to have a dog but is afraid he wouldn’t have the time for one. He found out you loved dogs, even more than you loved baking, and you had never left the state of New York.

“We’ll change that, doll. Don’t you worry.” You giggled at that.

“You know, you’re nothing like everyone makes you out to be.”

“I’m sure my reputation proceeds me. Let me guess, a cold hearted killer and womanizer? That’s what they say in the tabloids I see every now and then.”

“Pretty much, but I will say you are much kinder to me than what I’m used to.” You gave him a small smile. You saw something flash in his eyes that you couldn’t place. With that he decided to bring up the elephant in the room.

“There is something I do want to talk to you about, doll.” You took a pan of cookies out of the oven and sat the next pan in while the others cooled.

“Okay, what’s that?”

“The reason I agreed to your father’s proposal.” You turned around to face him. You had been curious about it but didn’t want to ask out right.

“Okay.”

“Did you want to ask me anything?”

“I did wonder why you agreed to it. I mean, I’m nothing special. Men usually come to my father about proposals for my sister, not me. Although I know this was his idea. I’m just surprised you agreed to it.” You had never been this open and honest with someone you just met. There was just something about Bucky. “I’m sorry, that was overstepping. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Not overstepping, doll. I surprised myself when I agreed to it. The thing is, I am ready to settle down, but not give up my title just yet. I am tired of women just wanting money or just wanting to say they were with me. Granted, I could have gone about it differently than this, but it’s hard to find someone who doesn’t want something.”

“My father was the one who wanted something though.”

“Yes, but not you. I’m just curious as to why you just went along with it.” You took a deep breath.

“You want an honest answer?”

“Of course, doll.” 

“I didn’t have a choice. My family also sees me as in the way. So, it got me out of their way.” Bucky’s heart broke for you. You could see it in his eyes. You felt your face turn bright red. You were going to be honest. Your family never hid their disdain for you around anyone, so you didn’t see the point in trying to hide it yourself. 

“That’s terrible, doll. I can assure you, you won’t be in the way here. If you ever feel like that you come to me, understand?”

“I understand.” The timer went off for the last batch of cookies just as Steve walked in the door with take out. Your stomach immediately rumbled at the smell of Chinese food. Steve walked in, sitting the food on the counter. 

“It smells like a bakery. Did you do all this?” Steve looked around at all the cookies you had baked. You felt your face turn red again. 

“She did, we’re gonna try them after we eat.”

“They smell amazing. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” 

“Wait, Steve! Here, take some with you. I made way too many as it is.” You hurriedly put a couple of batches in some containers you had found earlier. Steve looked to Bucky as you were packing up the cookies. Steve gave Bucky a small smile and a slight nod you didn’t pick up on. You handed Steve the bag before Bucky could silently reply to Steve. Steve gave you a big smile.

“Thanks, sweetheart. I can’t wait to try them.”

“Let me know what you think. I haven’t got my recipe just right yet.” 

“I’ll let you know. I’ll see you all tomorrow.” Steve left you all to your dinner. Bucky started getting the containers out. You decided to go ahead and put the cookies that were already cooled in a container. Bucky was still getting food out when you were finished. You hadn’t seen this much food in front of you in a long time. Not that you didn’t eat, you just didn’t eat much. Bucky watched your eyes get wide. 

“You okay, doll?”

“Yeah, that’s just a lot of food.” 

“Maybe, but then we can have leftovers tomorrow.” He said it so easily. You were a little taken back. “Doll, would you care to get these last few containers out so I can go change. Then we’ll eat.” You just nodded. You didn’t have it in you to reply. Bucky walked up the stairs to his room as you got the last few containers out. You were still in shock at all the food. And the fact that he got some for you too caught you off guard. You didn’t realize it but you felt tears in your eyes. Usually when your family ordered out you got what was left and if you were still hungry you made yourself something in the kitchen. You didn’t hear Bucky come up behind you.

“Everything okay, doll?” He noticed the tears in your eyes. You quickly wiped them away. You noticed he had changed into a white t-shirt and some gray sweatpants. You thought he looked even better like this than in his suit.

“Yeah, everything is fine. I was just getting the rest out.” You put the paper bag in the trash can you found earlier. Bucky sat down on the same bar stool from earlier. He started opening the containers. 

“Get whatever you like, doll. I got some of everything. I didn’t know what you would like.” You didn’t know what you would like either. You hadn’t had Chinese takeout before. Your family would get it sometimes but there was never any left for you. “What’s going on in your head?”

“Um, it’s just, uh-”

“Doll, you can talk to me. The side of me you see right now, no one else sees. This is for you and you alone. I want you to be able to talk to me. I know this isn’t conventional but I would like to be able to be open and honest with one another.” You wanted that too, but you weren’t sure how to do it. You never had anyone to confide in. Ever. This was all so new to you, so you decided to be open and honest about everything.

“I’m not used to this, Bucky. I’m not used to being doted on. I never get take-out. I don’t get luxurious bedrooms. I get told what to do and when to do it. I don’t know how to confide in someone. I don’t know how to make myself at home because I’ve never had that luxury. I always get the bare minimum. I’m the burden of my family and they let everyone know.” You hadn’t realized tears started to spill over by the end of what was always on your heart. You had never told anyone this. Bucky reached for your hand nearest him. When you didn’t pull away he clasped it in both of his. You could see Bucky’s eyes dim and then watch something light in them you had never seen before.

“You will never be in the way here. You are going to be my wife and with that is going to come a lot of things you’re not used to. I can see that now. If you are ever overwhelmed please do not hesitate to tell me. I want you to be able to tell me what you’re feeling. This is new to me, too. I want to be honest with you. Granted there are some things that I do that I would rather keep you away from and I will try my best to. Doll, here you will be taken care of and doted on. You won’t even remember what it was like at that house you lived in. We’ll learn as we go along.” You didn’t realize you needed to hear that. You squeezed Bucky’s hand as well as you could as he had started holding your more firmly than before. 

“We’ll learn as we go along.” He squeezed your hand back releasing it. 

“Great, now that we’ve talked about that. What do you want to try first?” You smiled as you pointed to some chicken that looked good. Bucky handed it to you and waited until you tried it before he grabbed something as well. 

And that’s how your first night went with your fiance. Trying Chinese take-out you had never had and learning how to make yourself at home. Maybe you could get used to this.

[inkykodo]

STRESS RELIEF

Warning: Sub!bottom reader!, Dom!top Miguel, Rough play, Breeding kink miguel!, Voyeurism, use of pet names (Good boy etc.), office sex, oral sex, gagging and unprotected sex

This Smut is intended for amab readers, fem aligned readers dni

(This is my first smut fic i ever wrote so im sorry if its a bit rough or amateur i thought i just might try doing this 😭, i also added a bit of fluff in the end lol)

After A hard day of chasing miles morales he eventually escaped with the help of his friends. now he has to find Miles all over again and not to mention the anomaly "The Spot" thats constantly being a pain in the ass to even get a finger on. disappointed Miguel went back to the spidey HQ to asses the situation with layla; its late at night and everyone already went home so he has to pull an all nighter for this one. as he was about to enter his dark and quiet office when he noticed a cubicle being lit up by a computer; he went over to check at the cubicle.

"hey! who's there? (y/n)? why are you still here? you should be home." Miguel asks with frustration and disappointment. you were his assistant but he doesn't want you to work late hours just like him. he worries that you'll be exhausted.

"oh sorry sir. i was just doing paperwork and theres quite a few..." you say let out an awkward laugh as you rub the back of your neck. Miguel puts his hand on his hips as he squeezes the bridge of his nose with the other one; "just get it done... and will you get me a coffee while you're at it? if you dont mind." he said with a deep and exhausted voice. "uh yes sir, ill get you a coffee as soon as possible!" you say immediately as you get up and go to the coffee shop just across the street. Miguel sighs as he turns his back and entering his office again.

you grabbed your coat and prepared to exit the building into the cold and windy night. there were rarely any cars around as you walk across the street; the silent buzzing of the lamp above you as you walk, the damp sound of your boots thumping the ground, your hot breath as you exhale around the cold air; it was all so calming to be just by yourself and not worrying about any reports or documents to get done. ring you enter the coffee shop and greet the barista "hey! (y/n)! nice to see you" Joe plasters a wide grin on his face as he waves at you. "hey Joe can i get the usual?" you chuckle as you approach the enthusiastic barkeep. it puzzles you how someone could be this energetic especially when its late at night. "one latte and café americano coming right up" Joe smiles as he gets to work and you sit down by the window silently observing the place you work at. The towering building reminds you of so much; the first time you went there for your job application, the people you met and hanged out with. ever since you started working here it's been great; you were able to hold down a job and live a comfortable life. ding Joe rang a bell and you snap out of your melancholic trance. "Here's your order (y/n)" you get up from your seat and hand him the payment "Thanks Joe I'll see you around" you chuckle as you wave goodbye and head back to your boss who's waiting for his coffee.

You reach the 20th floor and exit the elevator; you make your wake to his office. "ugh... (y/n)" you hear muffled moans when you approach the door when you hear his deep growls your body immediately tenses up. "you're so cute..." You peep through a slight crevice through the door. you see him then and there stroking his throbbing cock as he calls out your name. "im close... (y/n)" you gasp as you back away and clear your throat. "Sir? your coffee is here" you knock on the door. "Oh- uhh come in!" coffee in hand, you enter his poorly lit office. he always preferred it that way although, you always wondered why. "Here is your coffee sir a caffé americano just as you like it" your body tenses up more as you know he's hard down there and its because of you; as you place it down Miguel suddenly grabs your wrist his talons flexing and protruding "i heard you peeping at me through that hole (y/n)" as Miguel pulls you close to him your body freezes on the spot "do you want a better view cariño?" he leans in and you can see his tip dripping wet with precum.

"Please... Miguel..." you try to avoid his gaze but he grabs your chin and tilts your head downward as he forces you to look at him "Please what cariño?" Miguel lets out a deep and menacing laugh "Be clear with your words boy." Miguel says sternly as he grips one of your thighs with his hands. his sharp talons poking your thigh but not enough to draw blood. "Please... continue..." Miguel's lips curled into a grin "That's more like it. good boy" Miguel begins to move his calloused hands; as it travels up your body he lets his fingers slide through your smooth and soft skin. "your skin im feels like a soft cloud mi vida.." Miguel says as he leans in your neck leaving behind a couple kisses here and there. Miguel continues tracing the shape of your body and he lands on where he started. He pinches and twisted your nipples it tingled and burned against his touch. this turned you into a moaning and whimpering mess. "Miguel... that feels so good..." you bite your lip and you begin to move your hips rubbing against his huge boner. the shape of his girth and the way he was playing with your chest like stress balls drowned you in pure ecstasy. "Getting impatient now are we cariño?" Miguel stops what he's doing and he grabs your waist "Such small and slutty waist i wonder how they'll feel when i use them" He grabs your ass and spreads them "oh and im sure these will feel good too" Miguel looks you dead in the eye letting you know what he's about to do next

"im sorry sir i didn't mean to-" Miguel cuts you off mid sentence as he lifts you up and he places you on his lap. you can feel his boner pressing against your rear as he stares you down ready to absolutely swallow you whole. "shhh callate ahora... we can keep this a secret cariño" Miguel leans in close to your ear as he nibbles on your earlobe; his fangs slightly poking your ear. "you're so adorable cariño all tense like that... i could eat you up right here..." Miguel's hands creep under your clothes as he traces your back. his warm hands making you involuntarily whimper as you arch your back; Miguel smirks as he heard you let out a quiet whimper "Que lindo (How cute)" Miguel removes his hands as he violently rips your buttoned down long sleeve polo. this makes you gasp and "that was my favorite shirt..." Miguel chuckles "Well, you look better without it" Miguel looks up at you as his smug expression seems to be clearly enjoying your reaction. "What do we have here?" Miguel's eyes fell to your chest, letting his calloused hands travel to your waist and closer to your thighs. But something glimmering caught his attention. "Oh?" A low chuckle would rumble as he traced his fingers around your nipple piercing, "What do we have here?" he flicks your pierced nipples. "where have you been hiding this huh? such a naughty naughty boy" Miguel continues to flick and twist your pierced nipple as he takes the other one in his mouth. "ahh... Miguel..." Miguel smiles deviously as he takes your swollen nipple in his mouth. "Hold still cariño" Miguel growls as he plays with the metal object that's attached to your nipple using his tongue. you start to moan and whimper as he plays around with your swollen and sensitive chest; "Miguel... too good..." your chest rises and falls as every sensation shoots pleasure up your brain and makes your whole body start to shake. Miguel stops abruptly as he smirks and leans in your ear "Yeah? Beg for it then."

as he was about to tear your clothes to shreds you two were interrupted by a facetime call. he picks you up and sets you down under his desk and his bulge throbbing right in front of you. the shape of his dick under his Spider-Man suit was impressive. his hard cock pressing against the tight fabric as he sat down properly; it was irresistible. your eyes were fixed at his cock glaring back at you as if its taunting you to suck it. you hear miguel talk with one of the Spider-Man that he worked with earlier you decided to have your turn with him. you slowly unzip his Spidey suit his cock immediately springs out and it even slaps your face. Miguel's eyes widened as he looked down at you; his eyes fueled with surprise and rage "Uh miguel? Are you listening?" Miguel Clears his throat and looks back up "Uh yes, you were saying?" Miguel continues his conversation with the nice lady hes on the phone with. You slowly licked Miguel's tip; the w way his precum drips down your tongue like a busted faucet makes you want to lick it up more. you start licking the base of his shaft and then his glans. "So it seems that the spot wa-" Miguel abruptly stops with a groan as you lick up his leaking tip. "Miguel? you good?" Miguel snarls at you knowing he cant do anything yet "yeah im fine, im kind of busy right now ill call you later" Miguel bids farewell to the nice person as he ends the call. you dont even notice their conversation as youre too busy licking up and lapping his dripping dick. Miguel growls at you "You really want my dick that badly huh? you cant wait to slobber all over it? have at it then" Miguel grabs a handful of your hair as he lines up his dick to your mouth and pushes; He pushes it in deep all the way to the base of his huge cock. "how do you like that huh? i bet youre enjoying the taste of my cock now its all the way down your throat like a good slut you are"

your protests were muffled by Miguel's whole length down your throat. "MmpH!" was all you managed to say as you gripped on his thighs trying desperately to pull away. "Whats wrong (Y/n)? wasnt this what you wanted huh?" Miguel snaps at you he sounded pissed and he wants to put you in your place. Miguel then pressed down further you chin dripping with spit and drool as it sticks to Miguel's balls; he lets go just to catch your breath. "Hah... hah..." your chest falls and rises rapidly as Miguel's precum dripped down his shaft. "We're not done yet cariño" Miguel laughs sadistically as he grabs you by your arms and pins both your hands on his desk "since you clearly want it so bad, ill give it to you good" miguel rips apart your pants his rough hands traces your waist. he moves down lower as he reaches your ass and he feels around. "oh this will be good" his laugh gets deeper and colder as he bends over; his hot throbbing dick pressed against your lower back. "You'll regret playing me (Y/n)" his talons flex as he opens your ass wide open. rip the sound of fabric tearing as he finally rips apart the last remaining clothing you had on. "your puckering hole is just waiting to get fucked" Miguel slaps his drool coated dick on your rear he whispers to you "im gonna make you cry and beg for more"

/Time skip/

Miguel stops abruptly as he opens a drawer and takes out lube you stare at it as he squeezes some on his hand "wait- why do you have lube in your office?" you pant as you ask Miguel "Its better to be ready and not need it or need it and not be ready" Miguel says panting as he rubs some of the lube on his dripping dick. an idea flashes through your mind as you push him down his office chair. "its my turn to take the wheel" you say as you get on his lap and line his dick on your hole. you slowly lower yourself down halfway and you stop. His impressive size was appalling; it already felts so good half-way in you. savoring the sensation you try to prepare yourself for his girth. Miguel seems annoyed as you suddenly stop moving. he grabs your slutty waist and rams you down his fat cock. you let out a lewd moan as it crushes your prostate. you gasp as you try to collect your thoughts from the sudden sensation burning your mind. Miguel pants and squeezes your ass as he begins to thrust on your fat piece of cake. he growls and squeezes down not letting you go anywhere but deeper down on his cock. he watches you bounce up and down while you make noises of pleasure making him smile proudly. "yeah.. thats right be a good boy and take my cock like a slut." Miguel pushes you down deeper as his cock directly presses on your g spot. "Miguel... please..." you beg miguel as he stops and just keeps his cock in you. its throbbing and twitching like crazy. "Not yet Cariño... i wanna see you ride me." Miguel Sneers as you squeeze down on him. As you start riding in your own pace Miguel leans back and puts his hands on the back of his head enjoying the view before him. the more you ride his cock them more it seems to grow inside of you. As you moved yourself up and won on him you began to drool. the wet slicking of his dick on your ass felt so good; everytime it hits your prostate you were sure too see a glimpse of heaven. "You look so good in this position Cariño" Miguel reaches down and feels your hips and thighs as you ride him. saddling up to make yourself feel secure as he guides along your waist as he watches you ride.

After hours of nonstop fucking, (y/n) could only focus on the pleasure he was receiving. His mind could only focus on the man who gave him ecstasy. His voice was starting to hurt from shouting Miguel's name. "Too..ah..much" (y/n) whimpers begging for release. "Hush cariño... im almost there..." Miguel's rough voice drowned out y/n's moans. (y/n) practically lost count of how many times he came. "I can't..." (y/n) moans out.. "yes you can, baby.." Miguel's thrusts were getting rougher and faster. the wet slapping of skin crashing against each other echoes through the office. "do it for me cariño... Just one more" That was a lie. Miguel didn't plan on stopping not until the sun was rising. After one final deep thrust he finally released his final load "Agh...! Cariño im cumming!" Miguel buckles his hip as he grabs your ass and pushes it deep inside you as he came. "Miguel- youre filling me up!" (y/n) yells in surprise as miguel shoots his load deep within (y/n)'s gut. "Fuck im gonna give you my babies" Miguel keeps on going; shooting his load deeper into you it felt like a bump was appearing on your tummy as he does so. Miguel snuggles his lips on your neck as he finally lets his cock slip out of your gaping hole. your shaking legs finally give out as his seed slowly drips onto hour thigh "That was alot..." (y/n) says breathlessly. "Apologies, cariño... i got carried away." Miguel's voice seems to be at ease; somewhat satisfied i guess he had some stress relief. miguel picks you up and cleans after you. he takes you to his apartment since he ripped apart your clothes and gave you some of his clothes. "Thank you Miguel..." You thank him as you grab his clothes. as you put it on his clothes seem too big for you; the sleeves of his shirt droops below your elbow which exposes your neck and his baggy pants that looks like a pajama. "(y/n) you look so cute...) Miguel stares you down with admiration as he grabs you by the waist and outs you down in bed. "Can we cuddle? i feel tired after what we did at your office" (y/n) says sheepishly as he grabs Miguel's arms around his waist and presses against him. "Sure Thing cariño" Miguel kisses you around the nape of your neck as both of you drift to sleep.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Table 13 & Cherry Pie

modern!mechanic!benji x stripper!fem!reader

Summary: Working two jobs to support your mom’s medical bills is already hard enough and of course your car breaks down at the worst possible time. A flirty stranger you meet at the diner offers you help with no strings. Everything seems too good to be true and before you know it, it seems as if it all comes crashing down. 

Warnings: 18+ mentions of long term illness, swearing, cigarettes, oral(f receiving), questionable clientele but nothing in detail, p in v, unprotected, a fight but nothing too intense 

Authors Note: request from @chainsawsangel that i thoroughly enjoyed writing and working on 🥰

Word Count: 8k 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I curse at any higher power that’s out there for allowing my car to break on such a vital day. I shove some cash into the taxi drivers waiting hand and take a deep breath before heading into the hospital. I calm my nerves as I adjust my visitors pass before entering my mother floor. The “inspirational” quotes littered across the wall seem to only aggravate me today as I push through the door. I spot my mother’s doctor and walk up to him. 

“How is she?” I nibble my lip looking at my mother fast asleep in the hospital bed. 

“She did well with the more aggressive treatment we used today. She’s a fighter, don’t worry.” he lays a hand on my shoulder and I slink out of his touch. 

“Did finance come up here looking for me?” I wince looking around the floor. 

“No, we tend to keep those vultures out of this space. Your mother is our first priority. We know you’re doing everything you can.” his eyes linger a bit too long before I slip into my mother’s room. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here on time.” I say softly holding her hand in mine. “You’d be giddy to know that your “hot doctor” called you a fighter and had nothing but praise of you.” I pull my normal chair closer to the side of the bed. 

“My car broke down on the way here and I had to wait forever for a taxi and tow to show up. I’m sorry I let you down again.” I curse the tear that falls down my cheek. “I have to work both jobs tonight, as usual. I’m hoping when I get here tomorrow you’ll still be up.” I kiss her forehead and close her door behind me. I internally groan as I walk to the elevator so I can stop past finance on my way out. The receptionist waves at me as I walk past to the desk I’ve become all too familiar with. 

“Lovely to see you, Y/n. What can I do for you today?” she smiles pushing back from her computer. 

“I only have half of this month’s payment. If I could get an extension. Even just a couple of days. I’m sure I can figure something out.” I pick at my nails as she sighs. 

“Something’s better than nothing.” she grabs the envelope from my hands. “I can only give you an extra ten days.” she looks to me with a patronizing smile. 

“I’ll make it work. I don’t have a choice.” I inhale deeply trying not to let my tears fall. “Thank you.” I nod to her before leaving her office. As I walk outside I let the tears flow as I pull out my phone to waste money on another fucking taxi. I sit on the ground crying until the taxi shows up. I get to the diner with fifteen minutes to spare and push through the front doors seeing that the room is full of customers. 

“Get changed and clock in.” my boss shouts from the grill. 

“Yeah,” I wave him off heading to the back. I pull my black uniform out of my locker and change quickly. I secure the apron around my waist and head to the mirror to deal with my tear stained face. I give up and throw my hair into a bun and walk out into the main area. I type my numbers into the computer and then look around to see which table I should head to first. 

“Thirteens been waiting for a while.” my coworker shouts at me so I grab a glass of water and head over that way. 

“I’m sorry about that wait today, sir. Is there something I could get for you right away?” I smile before I feel my heart skip as he looks to me. 

“A coffee for now.” he smiles up at me. 

“Any cream or sugar?” I fiddle with my pen as I try not to trail my eyes all over him. 

“Yeah cream, thank you.” the way his eyes crinkle has me melting on the spot. 

“And are we waiting for anyone?” I point my pen to the empty booth across from him. 

“Not unless you’d like to join me?” I know my blush is visible now as I turn back to him. 

“Oh I- I would but,” I internally scream at me falling over my words. 

“No worries, baby. Maybe another time.” I nod as he smirks after me as I go back to the kitchen. I pour his coffee and grab a jar of creamer before I walk out to him. 

“Coffee and cream.” I set the cups in front of him as he thanks me. “Can I get you something to eat?” I pull out my pad and pen. 

“What’s your favorite thing here?” he hums looking up to me. 

“Probably our cherry pie. It’s perfectly sweet and tart. Unless you meant like actual food.” I nibble my lip scolding myself because of course this man came here for food and not just pie.

“I’ll try your cherry pie.” he chuckles and I don’t miss the way his tongue darts against his lower lip.

“Anything else I can get you?” I offer him whatever smile I can muster. 

“That’s it for now.” he nods his head at me as I hustle back to the kitchen. 

“Well are you going to pick up more tables or stick with Mr. Handsome over there?” my coworkers tease me. 

I pick up my pad and start scurrying around the diner. Once I get into my flow I easily can juggle my tables. Once most of them are gone I glance back at table thirteen and wonder how he can possibly still be eating that pie. I see he’s only taken a couple bites and now I worry that he’s hated it. 

“If you didn’t like it I can get you something else?” my hands rest on his table. 

“You said it was your favorite so I figured I would save you some.” I scrunch my brows at his words. “Open up for me.” his voice is low as he brings the fork to my mouth. I shrug and wrap my lips around the fork and moan as I taste the sweet tartness. 

“I’ll go get you your check.” I hum licking the cherry from the corner of my mouth. 

“He’s your last table so finish up and I can get you out of here early.” my boss nods to me. I sigh knowing I need more money but I’m thankful that I can get to the club a little earlier. 

“Here’s your check I can come back when you’re ready.” I nod my head at him. 

“No, the rest is for you.” he hands me a fifty for his ten dollar bill. 

“Are you sure?” I blink at him in disbelief.

“Yeah you’ve earned it.” he slides out of the booth and towers above me. “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow to try some more of your pie.” he leaves me blushing at the booth as he exits the front door. 

I go back to my locker and change back into my regular clothes before heading out the back. I cut down a couple alleys and side streets and sigh in relief when I start to see the familiar neon sign. I twist my key in the back door and make my way down the steps. The other girls wave at me and smile as I walk past. I make my way to my vanity and plop in my chair and sigh. 

I start to pull my bun out and tease my hair up a bit. I pull out a can of hairspray and get to work on making my appearance more desirable. I go back to my locker and pick out my most flattering outfit since I need to make the rest of my mother’s payment in ten days. As I look in the mirror the club manager walks to me and runs his hands up my arms. 

“When are you going to do private dances? You can make more money that way.” his voice sing song as I roll my eyes. 

“I don’t like when these men touch me.” I look him over before stepping out of his reach. 

“No but you like their money. What about a lap dance?” he keeps pushing the subject. 

“I’ll let you know if I change my mind.” I toss over my shoulder before walking backstage to hand the DJ my song choice. 

The rest of the night is filled with my boss begging me to give a man in the front row a lap dance and me respectfully declining every single time. I toss my outfit into my bag to take home and wash and I’m thankful one of the girls is willing to drop me off at home. 

As I walk up to my sidewalk I sigh at the shell of my childhood home. I slam the door shut behind me before trudging up the stairs to burn my skin in a hot shower before I collapse onto my bed and allow sleep to take over 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Next day

I was able to see my mother for a couple hours today and drop off the money I made yesterday in finance. I wait on the sidewalk for my taxi to get here and smoke a cigarette wishing my life was different. As I see the car pull up I stand tossing the remains. We pull up to the diner and I furrow my brows as I see table number thirteen waiting outside the doors. 

“There’s my cherry pie.” a smile spreads across his face as mine heats. 

“You know they’re open even when I’m not here?” I finally return his smile stopping in front of him. 

“But I’d prefer it if you were here.” he opens the door for me. 

“I’m flattered,” my face must be red at this point. “Go take a seat table thirteen and I’ll be there when I clock in.” 

My boss and coworkers look at me with raised brows as they see him go sit in the same booth from last night. I try not to catch their gaze as I make my way to my locker. I clock him in and head straight for table thirteen. 

“What can I get for you today, sir?” I pull out my pad and pen. 

“Back to sir and not table thirteen?” he offers me a lopsided smile. “I thought we grew on each other, cherry pie.” 

“I just never got your name last night.” I hum looking over my pad at him. 

“You didn’t ask.” he raises an eyebrow with a taunting smile. 

“Table thirteen it is.” I roll my eyes and he laughs. 

“I’ll have the same as yesterday.” he hands me his menu and I leave him trying to collect my thoughts. I’ve never been one for flirty customers but there’s just something different about him. 

“I see your boyfriend is back.” my coworker giggles as I huff pouring his coffee. 

“I can only dream. There’s no way that man is single.” I shake my head bringing his coffee and cream to him. 

“What kind of pie would you like today?” I set his coffee in front of him. 

“What’s your next favorite after the cherry?” I nibble my lip thinking. 

“I think our banana cream pie is a close second.” I nod my head with my choice. 

“Then that’s what I’ll have.” he nods his head with a smile as I head off to the kitchen.

I plate his slice and run it back to him before I start tending to my other tables. Table thirteen only asks for refills on his coffee and I can feel his eyes on me throughout the shift. As I’m nearing the end of my shift I make my way back to him. 

“I was wondering when you would come back for your taste.” my breath catches at his words and he slices a piece of the pie. “I can feed it to you again.” I throw my cares away and dip down savoring the sweetness. 

“Did you enjoy it?” I lick the cream off my lips as he looks to me with dark eyes. 

“What are you doing after your shift?” his voice stirs something deep within me. 

“Going to my other job.” I sigh knowing I have no time to entertain the idea of this man at my house. 

“You’re a busy woman, cherry pie.” he tsks shaking his head. “Shouldn’t your man take care of you?” he tilts his head waiting on my answer. 

“I don’t have time for one. Two jobs, an aspiring artist, and a dying mother doesn’t really pull them in you know?” I feel like weight on my shoulders like bricks forcing me down. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” I shake my head trying to figure out what I was thinking pouring my trauma on this man. 

“What’s something I can help you with?” he grabs my wrist to stop me from walking away. 

“Why do you want to help?” I look at him skeptically. 

“Because I can tell you truly need it.” his voice soft. 

“You good with cars?” a smile splits across his face at my words. 

“I’m the best mechanic around.” his voice full of confidence. “What time are you done at your other job?” 

“Around two I know it’s kind of late-“ 

“That’s fine. Do you need me to pick you up?” he pulls out money for his tab. 

“No my coworker can bring me home. Are you sure? It’s really late and inconvenient and I don’t have any money to offer.” I shake my head. 

“I offered to help where I can. Fixing your car is easy for me.” he slips another fifty into my hand along with his phone. “Put your number in.” 

“I put it under Cherry Pie.” I hand him his phone back. “I’ll be back with your change.” 

“No need.” he waves his hand. “Text me your address and when to come over.” he types something out on his phone and I feel mine vibrate. 

“Thank you,” I furrow my brows and walk back to clock out. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Table 13: Don’t forget to send me your address. 

Cherry Pie: Home Location

Cherry Pie: I’ll be home around two. If you seriously want to fix my car. 

Cherry Pie: I’d appreciate it, but it’s a lot of me to ask of you.

Table 13: I’ll be there. You didn’t ask, I offered. Have a good shift 🍒

Cherry Pie: omw now if you’re still coming 

Table 13: I’m here waiting for you 😌

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“How long have you known this guy?” my coworker looks at me as if I’m crazy and I’m starting to think I am. 

“Two days.” I wince. 

“What’s his name?” she sighs shaking her head. 

“I don’t know,” I nibble my lip. “We use nicknames.” I look out the window to avoid her stare. 

“If I wake up and hear about you on the news I’ll find you and kill you myself.” she says parking at my driveway. 

“He’s nice,” I shrug getting out of the car. “And hot so fuck it.” I smile before walking up my drive taking in table thirteens car. 

“How was work?” he rises from my porch swing. 

“Long and exhausting.” I say throwing my bag over my shoulder. 

“What’s your other job?” he asks following me to my front door. 

“Not a lot of people seem to look kindly upon it.” I slide my key in the lock and push the doors open. 

“I don’t judge.” he shuts the door softly behind us. 

“Do you want something to drink?” I turn the lights on in the kitchen and look him over. I take in his tired eyes and start to feel bad. “It’s so late and you’re tired.” I shake my head. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” he nods reassuringly. “I’ll have a water.” he offers me a smile. I grab two waters out of the fridge and begin to lead him to the garage. 

“Here he is.” I flick on the lights. “All broken and sad.” I step in and begin to move my canvases and art supplies out of the way. 

“Do you have the keys?” he turns to me. 

“Yeah one sec,” I run back into the house and grab my keys and hand them off to him. “Do you need anything like help?” I lean on the door frame watching him. 

“Do you know much about cars?” he looks at me with a teasing smile. 

“No but I could hold the flashlight or something.” I look around not even sure if I have an actual flashlight. 

“No, you can just sit there and tell me about your day, baby.” he smiles popping my hood as I take a seat on the stairs.

“I went to see my mom today. She was awake. I gave most of the money I made yesterday to her hospital bills. As long as she gets better though and she is.” I nod looking at the ground as I hear him try to start my car. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he says leaning his head out of the car. 

“Not particularly.” I shake my head looking up to him hoping he can’t tell my eyes are red. 

“That’s okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” he tries to start the car again before he starts working under the hood. “What about the rest of the day?” 

“I went to work at the diner, had some phenomenal banana cream pie, and got some dudes number and I don’t even know his name.” I chuckle thinking about how ridiculous this is. 

“I like table thirteen.” he laughs from my car. 

“I do too.” I hum. “Then I went to my other job where my boss just hounds me to do things I don’t want to do. I’m never forced to do anything but it’s just the constant pressure that is a lot.” I sigh resting my head against the wall. 

“You never told me what your other job is.” he tilts his head to the side. 

“I dance.” I watch as his eyebrows scrunch. 

“What do you mean dance?” I watch him try to twist something before walking back to the drivers side. 

“You know what I mean.” my voice hushed as he turns to me after the car won’t start. 

“You’re telling me that my shy cherry pie is an exotic dancer?” he chuckles shaking his head. 

“It plays the bills especially when they’re medical bills.” I pick at my nails. 

“What does your boss keep asking you to do?” he turns to me.

“I only dance. He wants me to do lap dances and private dances. I don’t want that. Dancing is an art to me and so what if I take off some clothes and get men to give me money for it?” I hate the stigma around dancing in general there’s nothing wrong with it. 

“Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with. If your boss makes you uncomfortable he can become very comfortable with my fists.” my eyes snap to his before I stand. 

“No,” I shake my head. “He wouldn’t make me do anything.” I walk up to him with pleading eyes because I can’t lose this job. I’d quit the diner before I quit the club.

“Just tell me if you change your mind.” he nods his head. “I won’t do anything unless you tell me. Go sit back down.” he nods over to the stairs. I sigh sitting back down and watching table thirteens muscles flex as he uses different tools. I have no idea what he’s doing but he looks phenomenal. 

“I think you might be drooling, cherry.” he chuckles watching me stare at his hands. 

“Sorry.” I lick my lips absentmindedly. 

“Come sit closer if you want a better look.” he teases. 

“Have you figured out what’s wrong with it?” I sigh rolling my eyes.

“I think so. I’ll have to come back tomorrow with some more parts and tools.” I scrunch my eyebrows. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage of your time and work.” I look up to him. 

“I offered,” he goes to touch my cheek but looks at his dirty hand. “I will be here same time tomorrow unless you would like me to pick you up from work?” 

“I feel like that’s too much to ask.” I fiddle my fingers. 

“It’s not.” he starts to clean up some of his tools. 

“Let me know if there’s anything you need or want.” I call after him as he starts to walk to his car. 

“Shut the garage while I’m still here so I know you’re safe.” he leans on his car and waits as I press the button while we stare at each other until it reaches the ground. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Table 13: I won’t be at the diner today but I can pick you up after work. 

Cherry Pie: Are you sure? I can have my coworker take me home so you don’t have to do extra driving. 

Table 13: Just send the address and I’ll be there. 

Cherry Pie: and you’ll wait in the car and not harass my boss?

Table 13: Yes I’ll wait in the car 🙄 

Cherry Pie: Club Address

Cherry Pie: Thank you, again. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

As my last song ends I walk off the stage and breathe out thankful to let my body relax. I start to take the pins out of my hair and sit down to take my heels off. I change my clothes and check my phone. I smile at table thirteens texts that he’s here. 

“Don’t tell me you’re smiling at something that man sent you.” she snatches the phone out of my hand. “Table 13: I’m outside waiting in my car, just like you requested cherry pie.” she bursts out into giggles as I snatch my phone back. 

“Let me have some fun.” this spurs her laughter on even more. 

I sigh grabbing my bag and stopping at the refrigerator. I grab out the plastic bag handling it carefully before rolling my eyes at my friend and walking up the back stairs. I find his car and he gets out taking my bags from me. I snatch bag the plastic bag with a smile as he puts my other bag in his backseat. 

“This is a surprise for you.” smile as he opens up the door for me. 

“What is it?” he smiles as he gets in on the other side. 

“You can wait until we get home.” I hum and he chuckles pulling us out of the parking lot. 

“How was work?” he turns down the music and glances at me. 

“I made some good money. I should be able to pay off this month’s bill at the hospital. Though of course my boss always tells me I can make more.” I sigh resting my head on the window. 

“Why don’t you?” his voice soft and curious. 

“I’m not that good at faking attraction and desire. I can’t turn away all the men I find unattractive, I mean that’s what I do already.” I chuckle. “There’s never been a man who’s swayed me enough to say “yeah tonight’s the night I make this man come in his pants.” you know?” I turn my head toward him. 

“I know what you mean. I think about that everyday at the shop.” he laughs shaking his head as we pull into my driveway. “So what’s my surprise?” he looks to the plastic bag. 

“Not until we’re in the kitchen.” I hum getting out of the car. He grabs my bag and follows me into the house. I tell him to sit in a stool at the island as I prepare a piece of pie for him. “You missed my third favorite today.” I place the pie in front of him. 

“I’m terribly sorry, baby.” he looks to me with amused eyes. “What’s today’s flavor?” he tongue darts across his lower lip. 

“Peach.” I hum and he pats the stool next to him. I walk over and take a seat while handing him the fork. He takes a bite and hums going in for another. He takes another piece and brings it to my lips. He slowly pulls the fork out of my mouth as I hum closing my eyes at the flavor. 

“This was a lovely surprise.” he takes another bite and switches off from feeding me and himself. “Let’s go try to fix your car.” he nods once the pie is gone. I follow him closer to the car this time and sit on the ground as he’s under the hood. 

“This is a better view.” my words low as I admire him. 

“I was thinking the same thing.” I chuckles looking at me from the corner of his eye. “So how was the diner today?”

“It was so boring without you there. No one was there to feed me pie.” I pout as I watch him pull out a piece of my car. 

“I just fed you pie in the kitchen.” he rises wiping his brow. 

“Yeah, but not at work.” I bat my eyelashes at him. 

“My poor baby.” he chuckles walking over to me. “I need you to try and start the car while I look under the hood.” he offers me his hand and he pulls me up and I quickly get into the drivers side.

“Now?” I ask not wanting to ruin anything. 

“Yeah,” he gives me a thumbs up. My car makes a terrible noise and I stop instantly. “Well fuck.” he sighs walking back over to me. 

“What’s wrong?” I look up to him. 

“I need another part.” he sighs resting his head on the door frame looking down at me. 

“Is this just an excuse to keep seeing me?” I reach up touching his cheek. 

“Do I need an excuse?” he tilts his head down an inch. 

“No,” my voice barely above a whisper as I tilt my head up. 

“Tell me what you want, baby.” he purrs dipping down ever so slightly as I lean up. 

“Kiss me.” I look to his lips before they fall into mine. It’s a quick kiss that leaves me frustrated and wanting more. “Kiss me again.” I huff. 

“Maybe tomorrow.” he chuckles kissing my forehead. I get out of my car practically throwing a tantrum. “Shut the garage baby.” he smirks leaning against his car until he disappears as the door shuts. I stomp up the stairs and collapse into bed. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I step out the back door of the club and shiver at the breeze. If he wants to tease me over a kiss I’ll tease him right back. My heels click against the ground as I make my way to his car. He’s out of the car and offering to take my bag from me. I slip into the car trying to pull the oversized shirt down and give up. 

“Where are your clothes?” he rasps turning to me. 

“I forgot them. I borrowed a shirt and I have stuff on underneath.” he watches me try to stretch the fabric down. 

“Do you?” he raises an eyebrow. 

“I’ll change when we get home.” his eyes travel to my legs again before shifting us into drive. The tension in the car is palpable and this is either going to go exactly my way or I’m just going to look desperate. We get to my house and he follows me inside like normal. 

“Do you want something to drink?” I turn reaching up to grab a glass and I feel the shirt slip up. 

“Baby.” he growls from the island. 

“Sorry.” I turn to him with a glass. “What can I get you?” I look up at him through my lashes. 

“Come here.” his voice low and I slowly come to his side. 

“I forgot pie today.” I whisper. “Can I offer you anything else?” 

He pulls me into a kiss and lifts me up onto the island. I gasp as the marble chills my skin as his hands grip my thighs. I whine into his mouth as he digs his fingers in. His hands start to travel up as I squirm and he pulls back. 

“I’d like to have a taste of you tonight then.” his fingers slowly spreading my thighs. 

“Yeah, please.” I whine nodding my head. He smirks before dipping down and trailing wet kisses across my thighs. He places a kiss over my covered slit and I shutter trailing my fingers through his hair. He pulls my panties to the side and groans as he looks up to me. 

“This is okay?” he asks again and I nod pushing his head down as he chuckles. 

“Yes, fuck yes,” I cry out as his tongue licks around my bud. He starts a quick rhythm that has my breaths coming out in pants. My hips grind against his face while his fingers hold onto my hips. His tongue slips down to my core and circles the entrance before bringing more wetness up to swirl around my bud. My legs tremble at his speed as my pleasure starts to coil. I come undone as he licks me through it as I moan above him. 

“That’s my new favorite. I’d have that every day.” he rises up licking his lips. He pulls me off of the counter as my chest is still heaving. “Go put clothes on and meet me in the garage.” he kisses my forehead and walks to the garage. 

I get up the stairs on wobbly legs as I throw my bag onto my floor. I take off my clothes and slide into shorts and a shirt and make my way back down to table thirteen. I should ask him his name but then I know I’ll get attached. I walk into the garage and sit down on the floor near him. 

“Tell me about your day.” I hum watching him. 

“I had a lot of clients in the shop today and none of them were simple fixes which got a little frustrating when my team couldn’t help either. It was a long day.” he signs resting his hands on the car frame before turning to me. “This makes up for it though.” he smiles. 

“If you had a long day you can come back and finish it tomorrow.” I furrow my brow rising. “Or whenever you have time. I don’t want to be demanding. I know the time is so inconvenient but it’s the only time I have and-“ 

“You can’t be demanding if I offered and I don’t mind the time, I promise.” he rests his hands on my arms. 

“Thank you.” I look to him with soft eyes. “I really do appreciate everything.” 

“Tomorrow I promise I’ll have it done. Text me when you need me to come get you.” he smiles packing up his tools. “Have a goodnight.” he leans against his car and watches the door shut. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

As I step on stage I scan the room as normal and my breath stops when I see my moms doctor. I almost turn and run off stage but I genuinely need this money. As I make my way to the center I can feel his eyes on me as he sits back. I try to keep the sultry smile on my face that only falters when I’m facing back stage. When the song ends I wave and exit quickly. 

“The man in the front who looks expensive wants to talk to you.” my boss says coming through the door. 

“I’m not doing a dance for him. No.” I shake my head looking into the mirror. 

“He just said he knew you. You don’t want to look bad in front of rich clientele do you?” he raises his eyebrow waiting for me to walk to the door. I groan getting to my feet. I better not regret this. As I step out the door to the main floor I put on my smile. 

“Well, go over there.” he nods encouragingly and I turn to him and glare. I walk over to my mother’s doctor with my nerves pouring out of me.

“Some of my nurses told me you worked here and I didn’t believe them.” he smiles up to me from his chair. 

“I have to pay my mom’s bills somehow.” I look down to him with a raised brow. 

“If you give me a dance I’ll pay next month’s bill.” his eyes darken. 

“I don’t think that’s appropriate and I don’t do dances.” I start to pull back. 

“Two months.” he grabs my wrist. I look around the club and my boss is nodding encouragingly and I feel helpless. He pulls me down onto his lap and I gasp. “Three months then.” I try to hide the horror of my reality. 

That’s a lot of money he’s offering. It would allow me to save up and get more ahead on my payments but at what cost? Walking into the hospital and knowing this man was all over me and paid thousands of dollars for me to sit on his lap. My boss starts to walk over with a drink and I shake my head hoping he leaves this situation to me. 

“A drink for you.” my bosses voice is celebratory. “You’re the first to get her in your lap.” 

“Is that so.” he smirks looking me over. 

“She’s very particular about her clientele.” my boss chuckles handing the man a drink. “On the house for doing the impossible.” he winks at us and walks away. 

“Three months pay for you to give me something to think about with my wife?” I blink trying to hold back my disgust. I relent because that money could change everything for me right now. I bring my leg to the other side of his thigh and his smile is predatory. 

“Three months pay and we’re staying right here.” my voice firm as I rest my hands on his shoulders as he nods his head. 

I try to block out the next ten minutes and the way his hands feel on my body. My outfit stayed exactly where it needed to but it didn’t make me feel any better about the gaggle of men staring at me. Once I’m backstage again I go to my locker and pull out my phone as I start to pull on clothes. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Cherry Pie: Can you pick me up?

Table 13: Of course baby. Where and when?

Cherry Pie: The club and now

Table 13: Omw is everything okay?

Cherry Pie: Yeah I’ll see you soon

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I sit on the side of the building smoking a cigarette holding my knees against my chest. I blow the smoke up into the sky and curse the stars for my shitty life. I groan as I hear the door open and turn and see that it’s the doctor. 

“I was wondering where you ran off to.” he smirks looking down at me. 

“My ride is almost here.” I murmur taking a long drag. 

“Those will kill you.” he tsks. 

“Sooner rather than later I can only hope.” I sigh hoping table thirteen gets here soon. 

“We can go to finance tomorrow and we’ll get it all paid.” his voice soft and it confuses me. 

“You don’t want to do it anonymously?” I furrow my brows. 

“No moneys money, they won’t talk.” he shrugs before slipping back into the club. I rise to my feet as I see table thirteens car pull around the corner. 

“What’s wrong?” he searches my face as I get into the car. 

“I just- We can talk about it at home.” I shake my head as he pulls us away. The ride is silent and different and I know he can tell something is wrong but I just feel like a baby. 

“Tell me.” he holds the door open for me as I get out. He takes my bag from me and follows me into the house. 

“I was baited- no, I don’t know, I guess it was my fault,” I shake my head. 

“You can tell me.” he goes to cup my cheek and I shrink. It’s not that I don’t want him to touch me I just feel dirty and like I need to boil my skin off. “What did your boss make you do?” his nostrils flare and I feel his temper rise. 

“My mom’s doctor was there and he kept asking my boss to talk to me so I went out to the floor and that’s my fault I guess.” I huff at the way my voice breaks. “I don’t know, I ended up on his lap and his hands were all over me and I just- I need to shower.” I pull him up the stairs with me. 

“I can work on your car while you shower.” he voice low as he follows me into my room. 

“You said you would beat up my boss for even asking me to do that and now that it’s done I’m scared, thirteen.” I turn to him. 

“Benji.” my eyes find his quickly. 

“Benji.” I look up to him seeing him in a new light. 

“Y/n.” the smile that spreads across his face is contagious. 

“Go take a shower, Y/n. I’ll wait right here for you.” he lays back on my bed as I lock myself into my bathroom. 

The hot water and steam melt away everything that came with today. Three months of my mom’s medical bills were paid and I want to feel relief but I don’t know how I’ll face her doctor. Benji. My mind drifts to him and I smile as I scrub myself. His tongue was perfect last night and I can’t help my mind drifting to what else he can do. I wrap myself in a towel and push the door open as steam pours out. 

“How was your shower?” he props himself up on my bed. 

“It was good.” I hum walking over to the bed. “I thought about you.” he chuckles. 

“And what did you think about?” his tongue darts across his lower lip. 

“I need a distraction from today.” my words soft as I drop my towel. 

“Are you sure?” he searches my eyes before even looking over my body. 

“Please Benji.” I nod my head and he has me under him on my bed in seconds. 

I sigh as he attaches his lips to mine. His tongue pushes into my mouth and caresses against mine. I whine into his mouth as he grinds against me and the feel of his pants has me squirming. He chuckles kissing down my neck and licking across my chest slowly making his way down. 

“I need a taste of my cherry pie.” a moan falls from my lips as his tongue licks up my center. 

His rough hands hold my hips down as he swirls around my wetness. My body trembles as his tongue focuses on my bud. One of my hands tangles in his hair while the other one teases and caresses across my chest. My hips jerk against his face as he dips down and pushes his tongue into me. 

“Fuck Benji,” he groans against me and the vibration pulls a string of moans from me. “Right there, yes,” I roll my hips against his nose and release against his face with his name on my tongue. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” he groans as he stands to start pulling off his shirt. 

“So are you, why do you think I keep you around?” my voice still breathy. 

“And here I was thinking you liked me, baby.” he chuckles sliding his pants down and I groan looking at his length. 

“When did I say I liked you?” I smirk as he crawls over me. He lines himself up with my core and pushes in slowly. My toes curl with every inch as small gasps leave my mouth. 

“How’s it feel?” he rocks his hips into me. 

“Like I need you to move.” I whine as I push my hips against his. He chuckles and starts to slowly move his hips as I squirm beneath him. He snaps back into me as he captures my lips before beginning to rut into me. I moan into his mouth as my pleasure begins to coil. He kisses down my jaw to bite across my neck as his name falls from my mouth. 

“You’re doing so good for me.” he coos never losing his rhythm. The coil that was building snaps at his words and he curses into my neck as I pulse around him. 

“Benji,” I whine breathlessly as he continues to push into me. Broken whimpers leave my mouth as I feel pleasure starting to build again. My nails dig into his shoulders when his fingers find my sensitive bud. 

“You gunna come for me again?” he purrs as my eyes start to roll back. I nod my head as I pant beneath him. His thrusts become erratic and a string of curses leave his mouth as my walls contract around him. He pushes into roughly before I feel his warmth spread throughout. He rests his forehead on mine as we try to catch our breath. I sigh as he pulls out and collapses next to me pulling me closer. 

“Just stay.” I mumble as I feel my eyes droop. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“Fuck what time is it?” I jump up from the bed untangling from Benji who groans wiping his eyes. I check my phone seeing that I have about twenty minutes until I need to go visit my mother and get her bills paid. Which I don’t even want to think about at this particular moment. “Fucking taxis,” I mutter pulling up the phone number. 

“I’ll give you a ride to the hospital.” I turn to see Benji sliding on his pants. “Get dressed and we’ll head out. Don’t worry, I’ll wait in the car.” he chuckles kissing my forehead before slipping into the bathroom. 

I pull clothes on and we’re out the front door in five minutes. I’m walking through the main hospital doors shortly after. My mom is awake and happy and I do everything I can to avoid the doctor’s gaze. He stands a little too close to me but I try not to make a big deal. 

“Well, I’m going to head out..” I hug my mom and kiss her cheek. The doctor follows me out of her room and a shiver goes through my body. 

“Let’s go to finance, I have a break.” he says lowly before walking to the nurses station. I wait for him at the elevator and as we share the small space I beg for the elevator to move any faster. I watch as the secretary types into her computer and hands me a receipt paying for the next three months. I nod at the doctor and flee the hospital. I make it to Benjis and he offers me a smile. 

“How was she today?” he turns to me. 

“She was okay.” I nod my head fidgeting my fingers. 

“Do you want me to drive you to the diner?” he grabs my hands to settle my nerves. 

“I don’t- I’m calling in.” I shake my head not in the mood for the diner today. 

“Home?” he asks. “I can finish your car.” he smiles. 

“Yeah that’s good.” I nod my head and we make our way back to my house. 

I trudge into the front door with him close behind me. I grab us a drink before we make our way back to the garage. I sit on the ground lost in thought about the past 24 hours. I can’t even appreciate this man in front of me and my brows furrow. 

“What’s wrong?” he looks at me from under my hood. 

“I should start getting ready for the club soon.” I sigh looking up to him. 

“Go get ready and I’ll finish up down here.” he nods to the stairs and I slip into the house. I take another boiling shower and start to detangle my hair. I grab a crowd favorite outfit and slip it on before putting sweats on over it. Benji knocks on my bedroom door and leans against the frame with a smile.

“It’s all fixed, baby.” he jingles my keys. 

“Really?” my face lights up and I grab my keys from him and bound down the stairs. I jump into my car and it starts right away. “You’re a lifesaver.” I beam up at him. 

“Of course. Anything you need.” he hums. “I guess I don’t get to drive you home anymore.” he pouts. 

“You can still come over in the middle of the night.” I nibble on my lower lip. 

“Text me when you want me.” he offers me a quick kiss. “I’m going to head out and check on the shop. Maybe I’ll see you later.” his smile causes my heart to skip a beat and I nod my head. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I decide to leave early for the club and see if anyone wants to go home early. I feel so stupid for calling into the diner. Just because I’m a couple months ahead doesn’t mean I can slack now. I shake my head confused as I see Benjis car. I park and start walking up when the front doors burst open. I gasp as I see my boss thrown to the ground.

“I didn’t make her do anything.” my boss has his hands raised as my breath catches. 

“You knew she was uncomfortable and always told you no.” Benji grabs my bosses shirt. “Do you want me to hit you again?” 

“No.” my boss wails as I look on with wide eyes. 

“No means yes to you I heard.” he chuckles before landing blow after blow on his face. I stumble towards them in shock. 

“Benji,” my voice breaks. “Benji, please.” he stops and looks up to me as his eyes soften. 

“You’re fucking crazy and you’re crazy if you think you’ll still be working here.” my boss turns to me. “You both better be gone before I call the cops.” he rises and staggers back into the club. I look to Benji with tears streaming down my face. 

“Why?” my voice breaks. “Why did you do this? You know I need this job.” I move back as he steps towards me. “My mother’s life is on the line.” 

“Baby,-“

“No.” I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to see you again. I told you not to do this. You just fucked me over Benji.” I walk backwards to my car keeping my eyes on him. 

“Y/n, please,” he looks at me with pleading eyes. 

“I can’t do this.” I shake my head and grab my handle. I get into the car and peel out of the lot with no destination in mind. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

part two will be in the works soon xx 

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch

[kurogane2512]

Here's a suggestion for you, sis. How about boss Jade x assistant reader(male) where she gives you a lap pillow while stroking your shaft and gently squeezing your balls till you cum.

Also, I really feel like giving you a donation since you write so much good stuff for us. Feel free to drop a donation link if you're comfortable with it.

That's very thoughtful of you man, thank you for that. I have thought of doing commissions in the past so as to have some savings while I'm unemployed, but the issue is the payment method. I tried looking into Patreon but it doesn't seem to work well here, my country imposes stricter laws on these online international payments so idk if there's a good platform. If you have any option then I'll very likely accept the idea since it'll help me a lot! And here's your request below~

NSFW AHEAD || Jade x male!Reader || Smut and Fluff

You rushed through the IPC's corridors the entire day, fulfilling all your tasks and requests as assigned by your boss. Finally, you had a moment of rest now. You were about to go to the rest area when you received a text from your boss asking you to come to her office as soon as possible. You sighed and texted her back saying you'll be there in a minute and made your way over, hoping she wasn't going to assign you another mountainload of work.

"Lady Jade, it's me." you knocked the office door before going in. Your boss wasn't seated at her table as usual, instead you found her sitting on the couch on the right with a cup of tea in her hand.

"Ah, Y/n, as punctual as ever. Come here, have a seat~" Jade softly smiled and patted the place beside her. You blushed for a moment then nodded and walked to her side then sat down keeping some distance between you two. Your boss was beautiful and alluring, and nobody knew the special relationship you had with her as on surface you were just her assistant.

"I gather all the tasks have been completed for the day, hm?" Jade asked while sipping on her tea.

"O-Oh, yes ma'am. I already made a report as well. Should I show—"

"Shh~" Jade placed her index finger on your lips, stopping you from speaking further. Your heart pounded in your chest feeling her intense gaze at you, a pair of light blue eyes looking at you with lust. The same finger now slid down your body, tracing your skin intricately.

"You have done everything as I wanted, not disappointing me in the slightest...." Jade leaned close to you, speaking in a hushed tone. Her finger teased as it roamned over your abdomen, finding the right opportunity to slip inside your shirt.

"I think a reward is in line, a well-deserved one...." her finger now grazed your crotch before palming it, a muffled groan leaving your throat.

"You fulfilled my desires, it's time I fulfill yours~"

This meant she was letting you choose instead of doing what she felt like. Many things occurred in your mind, there was so much you could ask for but only one thing continuously came in your mind. It was an embarrassing request and you felt she'd be disappointed. Jade sensed your inner turmoil and gently placed her other hand on your face, lightly caressing it.

"Are you really feeling shy at this point? Well, I am good at being patient but I don't think you can be considering your state down here~"

You looked down to see a prominent bulge in your pants and Jade's hand still palming it, gently rubbing it up and down. She came even closer to you making her body press into yours, her breasts squishing against your chest as she leaned near your ear to whisper.

"Come on, say what's on your mind like a good boy~"

Your dick twitched at her words and the way she said them, straining in your pants and begging to be freed. You finally gave in and confessed your thoughts. You expected Jade to disagree and send you away, but she simply chuckled and kissed your cheek in response.

"That's all? I can't see how that is a fair reward for all your hard work, but if it'll please you then I have no problems. Come here~"

She opened her arms and you practically lunged forward to embrace her, breathing in her relaxing sweet scent and burying your face in her chest. Frankly, you were tired and wanted to rest. You too had more things you desired but for now, just being able to rest was the best reward your could ask for. You then let go and moved down to place your head on her lap, your eyes looking up at her smiling face.

Jade certainly didn't expect you to ask for something so....simple, she was prepared for a rough evening but she found this quite pleasant. Her left hand roamed down to unbutton your pants and zip down your flyer to fish out your erect shaft, some pre-cum already staining the tip. She smirked and licked her lips at the sight before gently grasping your length.

You stared up at her breasts then pulled down her coat followed by her bra to expose them, kneading the mounds of flesh while she fisted your cock. Her right hand caressed your head, ruffling through your hair and petting it in soothing motions. Her left hand moved up and down your shaft in slow and languid strokes at first, smearing the pre-cum all over for ease of movement.

You leaned up slightly and placed your lips around her nipple, a soft sigh coming out of her. Her right hand now placed under your head and supported you as your tongue flicked over her bud and sucked it. She grasped your cock tighter now and stroked it faster, noticing the way it twitched and was ready to burst. Her fingers moved down to massage your sac, gently rubbing your balls and feeling how full they were.

"Mmm.... quite pent-up, weren't you? Is it because of all the work I gave you today?~"

"N-No, I don't mind the work.... But yes, I haven't got much time for rest, ngh~"

"You should have told me. I have said to speak about your worries and problems to me, haven't I?"

"Yes.... aah.... I just didn't want to burden you in return, I like working for you...."

"Hehe, always a sweet talker. If words could be exchanged for credit then I likely wouldn't be able to pay you back~"

You groaned as you sucked her breast and kneaded the other one, her hand stroked you faster now and in no time you bucked your hips into her palm and released spurts of cum all over. You let go of her breasts and panted on her lap as your cum shot out, staining her hand and some drops falling on your belly. You were about to apologize but your eyes widened as you watched her lick away all of your cum on her hand.

The sight was erotic, the way her tongue licked up every drop and savored it made you turned on more than anything. Her eyes stared back at you as she licked, a lustful gaze staring right into your soul and making you entranced. She looked at how hard your cock still was and smirked.

"Well, shall we indulge in more of your desires tonight?~"