I need to know everyone's reactions to having a bush and then shaving your bush PLEAASE.
Xavier has gotten used to the bush. He loves the bush.
That’s like… his baby low key. That man is slipping a hand down the front of your shorts just to play with your pubes to fall asleep alright?
Like he’s petting the kitty for real.
So when you come out of the shower and she’s bald? He’s a bit stunned to say the least. “You shaved?” The towel has dropped to the floor as you rummage around your drawers for some panties to slip on, turning with a grin to show Xavier the fruits of your labor.
“I did! I saw a hack online and I wanted to try it, it’s been a while since she’s been clean shaven down there… feels so soft, wanna touch?”
You’re wiggling your eyebrows at him, completely unaware of his little mini crisis now that his favorite fidget toy is gone. “…soft?”
Okay, well, maybe he can compromise. "Yeah, super soft, I gotta put some lotion on her though... maybe you can help me out with that?" Oh? Yeah maybe this wasn't the worst thing to ever happen to him.
Zayne had been quite shy at first about his love for your bush. Something about it just really, really does it for him, okay?
The further you got into your relationship, the more apparent it became. So? You quite shaving, stuck to cleaning up and trimming when it felt necessary. But never really waxed or clean shaved.
That is, until summer hit and you really wanted to wear this one swimsuit and no matter what you did, the hair was just too obvious.
"Zayne, baby? I gotta tell you something." You actually felt a tad guilty as you peek into his office, towel still clinging to your body. "That... sounds guilty. What did you do?" Break something, maybe? Accidentally post an embarrassing photo of him? No, maybe worse.
"You know that bikini?" Oh, oh no. Yeah, way worse. You could see the horror dawning on his face before you could even drop the towel. "Zayne, please, I had to..." But his eyes look like that of a kicked puppy, his work abandoned as he swivels in his chair. "You didn't..."
"I had too." You whine, opening your towel to show your clean shaven, hair free, smooth, bush-less kitty. He nearly falls to his knees.
Rafayel has never really cared either way, honestly. He's quite used to being relatively hairless down there due to being Lemurian.
He doesn't expect you to shave or wax to meet those "standards", he doesn't mind you having a bush in the slightest. He actually is rather fond of nuzzling it after he eats you out.
"Raf..." You breath into the kiss, head tilting back as his lips trail lower towards your jaw. Their end destination currently throbbing between your thighs. "Hurry... I don't wanna wait..."
You're squirming, ungracefully trying to kick off your shorts as you feel his lips curl into a grin against your heated skin. "Fine, fine, cutie. Someone is impatient." Pulling away, Rafayel easily yanks your shorts and underwear off in one go, trying not to do a double take when he's greeted by the sight of your bare, clean shaven pussy.
"What inspired this sudden style change?" You blink up at him, nearly forgetting you had shaved yourself while showering this morning.
"J-just felt like it. Does that really matter?" You spread your legs a little further, a little more of your dignity flying out the window as you pleaded for him to please you just how you loved him to.
"Nah, it doesn't. But she looks cute like this... looks cute all the time though..." You can't dwell on it, not when his head dips down and disappears between your plush thighs.
Sylus prefers your grooming habits to be whatever you're most comfortable with. He loves the bush, loves when you're clean shaven, doesn't matter to him so long as you're comfy.
"I did something today." You grin as you plop down beside him on the couch, a freshly poured glass of red wine swirling in your cup as he nurses a second cup of whiskey. "Something exciting, it seems?"
You try and swallow your grin but are unsuccessful, holding the crimson gaze that is peeking at you over wire rimmed glasses.
Sitting on your knees, you take a small sip of the liquid before leaning closer to your lover. "I shave my kitty today."
It had been months since you had gone fully bald. Trimming was one thing, keeping her neat and clean was another. But totally bare, Sylus couldn't recall the last time he had seen it. "oh?'
"Wanna see?"
"Of course I want to see."
Setting your wine glass on the coffee table, you push up on your knees and yank down the front of your shorts. Shamelessly flashing Sylus with a far too innocent grin on your face. "Nice work, kitten. Not a single nick or sign of irritation. I'm impressed."
Caleb has always been fond of the bush, he especially loves when it gets a little wild and grown out. Sticking through your undies, peeking out the sides. You very rarely let it get that long though.
"Hey colonel." You're relaxing on your shared bed when he shuffles into the room, eyes easily looking over your frame and doing a double take.
"You...shaved her?"
You sit up slightly, peering down your body with a raised eyebrow before looking up at Caleb again. "You're sick and twisted, how the hell did you know I shaved my cooch just by looking at me?" But it's the way your panties are sitting on your hips, the way there is no hair peeking.
"Just... know you. That's beside the point. What made you shave?"
The colonel hat hits the dresser, then the gloves, all the while his eyes are locked on you with intent. "Just... got bored? I don't know I haven't done it in a long while. Do you not like it?"
The look that flashes across his face makes you feel stupid for even second guessing. "I was just curious, pips." His feet fall heavy as he walks towards you, immediately falling to his knees when he hits the edge of the bed. "Should I show you how much I like it?"
Valko is a wolf, naturally he's used to people having body hair. He finds it mildly odd when they don't. But like, your preference, you know?
So, he makes you aware of that right from the start of your relationship. Letting you know that you don't have to shave for him, that you don't have to be hairless for him. He loves some body hair, he loves the bush.
"Woah... did I miss something?" You've gotten comfortable with changing in front of him, not thinking twice as you strip from your uniform to hop in the shower. "Huh?"
"You uh... you shaved it off..." peering down, you realize his amber eyes are locked on the freshly shaved front of your pubic bone.
"Oh, yeah. I don't know I just felt like trying it out, it's been a while since I've done it. Do you not like it?" Valko's jaw actually drops at the question. Him? Not like your pussy? What?
"I'd be a moron if I didn't like it, but you know I love you with hair, right?" He really wanted to make sure this wasn't an insecurity thing. At that realization, you can't help but grin, stepping forward to place a chaste peck on his lips. Finding it oddly touching and adorable.
"I do know that... but do you wanna feel how soft she is now?"
you and caleb were deep in the heat of the moment on his bed, bodies moving together in a passionate rhythm, his thick cock slid in and out of your slick, unprotected pussy with long strokes, filling you completely.
you’d convinced him to skip the condom tonight, whispering how desperately you needed to feel him raw, all while secretly planning to baby-trap him hoping his cum would take root and bind him to you forever.
he groaned deeply, hips rolling as he thrust harder, his heavy balls pressing against you with every plunge, the pleasure was building fast, your walls fluttering around his pulsing length.
then you made your move, you slid your legs up and wrapped them firmly around his waist, ankles locking tight behind his back.
the shift pulled him even deeper, angling his cock so the swollen head nudged right against your cervix. your pussy squeezed him rhythmically, holding him in place.
caleb’s rhythm faltered. his breath hitched sharply. “f-fuck..” he whispered, voice strained and desperate, forehead dropping to yours.
you felt his cock throb intensely inside you, swelling as he teetered right on the edge. for a heartbeat, his hips tensed like he might try to pull back.
but it felt too incredible. the tight, wet heat of your pussy gripping him, your legs trapping him deep. he couldn’t stop.
with a low, ragged moan, he kept going, driving into you with urgent, grinding thrusts, your locked ankles kept him buried to the hilt, refusing to let him withdraw even an inch. “god… it’s too good,” he panted, sweat-slicked skin sliding against yours as he fucked you harder, chasing the overwhelming sensation.
you moaned softly, rolling your hips to meet him, nails lightly dragging down his back. “don’t stop, caleb…”
his pace grew more desperate, thrusts deep and the wet, intimate sounds of your bodies filled the room.
finally, he shattered. with a deep groan, caleb buried himself as far as your locked legs allowed and came hard. thick spurts of cum flooded your pussy, pulsing against your cervix as he emptied himself completely inside you. wave after wave of his warm seed filled your womb, exactly as you’d planned.
your own climax crashed over you, pussy clenching tightly around him, milking every drop. even afterward, you kept your legs wrapped around his waist, holding him deep while his cock twitched with the final aftershocks, his release safely trapped inside your unprotected body.
“fuck… i couldn’t pull out,” he breathed shakily, still buried in you, lost in the pleasure.
you smiled softly against his skin, satisfied that the first step of your baby trap had worked perfectly.
f/o who talks you through your orgasm, a gentle “good girl” and “yeah, that’s my girl” spilling past his lips as he works his fingers in you, eyes stuck on your face as you tip over the edge, something akin to wonder as he watches you with rapt attention
backing up against him to spoon in the morning. he’s still asleep for the most part, but he opens up to you. his arm folds over you, hand cupping your breast. his leg stretching over yours. you’re his for him to keep there, soft and warm, and you’re not sure he’s even conscious about it as he starts grinding his growing morning wood against your ass
when he’s so so big over you and inside you trying to coax you into relaxing for him; saying ‘it’s ok, sweetheart, you’re doing so well for me, you can take it’ and he kisses you as he slides himself all the way home inside you(swearing you’re so tight around him he can feel your heartbeat) so that your little hiccup is swallowed by his mouth and then he pulls back to admire the sight of you stretched around him to coo; ‘see? there’s my pretty angel. look how good you look full of me.’
I think it would start when Jake starts to pick up on your obsession with his hands. He notices how you tend to stare at them alot and how when you’re sitting on his lap you love to play with them and compare how small your hands are compared to his . ( yes jake would def have a thing for size dif)
He also noted how easily you come undone around his long fingers. Moaning and crying in the immense pleasure. He could genuinely have you overstimulated from just his hands & fingers alone. He loves to tease you with them. Simply running them down your thighs to get a reaction out of you.
He didn’t realize you’d be into sucking on them until one night. He was fucking you so good. Your legs over his broad shoulders, while his thick girthy cock splits you open. You were so blissed out, moaning , whimpering and holding onto the bed sheets like they were the only thing anchoring your body to the bed. “You’re doing so good for me baby” he said as he slid his veiny hand around your neck nestling it there and squeezing, not enough to cut off your air, but just enough for you to really feel him there.
“J-jake…” you moan, “ I can’t take it anymore…. t-too much.. too good…” He looks down at your tear stained face with so much love and care, contrast to his harsh thrusts into you. “ Shhh baby, you can take it for me babygirl. I know you can. My strong, big girl yeah?” You nod, too fucked out to disagree, just really wanting to make your Jakey proud :( .
“ Here baby, suck” he says while moving his hand from your clit and sliding two of his long veiny fingers right into your warm, wet mouth. You gladly welcome them in sucking them. “ There she is, my good girl. Cum one more time for me baby then we’re done okay? Can you do that for me?” You nod, mouth still around his fingers, looking up at him, your eyes wide and teary. He brings you to your 4th(?) ( you honestly lost count ) orgasm of the night. After you calm down from the aftershocks he pulls out and begins aftercare ( he is an aftercare king) wiping you down and telling you how good you were for him and how much he loves you.
After,he pulls you against his chest, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “ You did so well baby, I’m so proud of you” he says as he presses soft kisses on your face. “ I love you too jae..”
“ I can tell you love my fingers too,hm?” “ maybe..? they’re just really nice to look at and.. suck on..”
He laughs, stroking your hair softly, “ I figured baby, don’t worry I think it’s adorable”
an: this was so ass, but it’s my first time actually writing so bear w me😭 anyways i need him to finger me asap🤤🤤
Clenching down on his dick to tease him and regretting it just a moment later when he pushes my face into the mattress and fucks my holes like he wants to destroy me
“oh sweetheart, you’re okay, it’s in and you were so good for me, so so brave,” said sickeningly sweetly, while kissing your wet eyelashes and waiting for their knot to finish swelling and locking into place in your plush, warm pussy
Michael Kaiser who makes you wear a crown while he fucks you
Michael Kaiser. The Emperor.
Everyone knew the footballer for his massive ego as much as they knew him for his skill. The kind of man that makes cameras and eyes land on him as soon as he steps onto the field, the kind of man who had women throwing themselves at his feet, the kind of man with an ego and pride so astronomical it was astounding to everyone that he had found a partner he found worthy of not only his presence, but his love, his care, and his attention.
His Empress. It’s what the news outlets started calling you after seeing you at games wearing his jersey, but Michael came up with the nickname first, because only an Empress such as you, could be worthy of being with an Emperor like him.
So that’s why, when he has you on top of him, your thighs straddling his lap, his cock buried inside your sweet pussy, both of you completely bare and naked for one another, he has a custom Versace crown placed on top of your head. Because only his Empress is worthy of being on top of him like this, only you’re allowed to see him like this, his head resting on the pillows, his hands gripping your thighs, and noises only made for you slipping past his lips.
Michaels utterly mesmerized, your tits bouncing up and down as you grind on his cock. Your hips moving in hypnotizing circles, your nails digging into his chest, and a custom six figure crown resting on your head.
“Mihya–haah” You moaned on top of him, “Mmm-I’m getting tired,” You whined, your legs burning from hopping up and down on his dick for so long.
If it were anyone else, he would’ve called them weak, but you’re his perfect Empress, and he makes sure to treat you like it.
“My poor Schatzi…” He spoke as he flipped you over in an instant.
Before you knew it you were on your back, the crown fallen onto the pillows underneath you, and Michael kissing your ankle as you got adjusted to the new position.
Michael picked up the crown and placed it lopsided on your head. He stared at you for a moment, taking in the sight of you laying under him, on his silk sheets. He leaned in to kiss you and slowly began thrusting again.
“Was my Empress getting tired?” He asked, genuine concern lacing his voice as he began thrusting into you harder, as he kissed your jaw and then down to your neck.
You reached your arms around him and dug your nails into his back, nodding weakly. He looked into your watery eyes, you biting your lip, all from the pleasure he was giving you. It drove him mad.
“Scheiße,” He groaned, “Don’t look at me like that Schatz, you know what it does to me,” He moaned on top of you, his thrusts getting faster and faster.
You did know what it did to him, that was the point. You loved seeing him go crazy for you, fall apart for you, because no one else got to see him like this.
Michael would rather die than show any weakness or vulnerability, but for you? He’s whimpered, kneeled on the ground, and kissed your feet. It satiated something in you, knowing only you could get him like that.
Super models, actresses, and fangirls threw themselves at him everyday, but only you could get him like this. Only you could make Michael Kaiser fall apart on top of you just by batting your eyelashes.
“Schatz-haah” He moaned into your ear, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.
Your right hand moved to his head, fingers entwining in his hair, “Mihyaa-go de-deeper, Mihya” You whined beneath him, your legs wrapping around his waist, back arching, and toes curling, because the pleasure was just too much.
He listened without complaints, you were the only person able to boss him around, of course. Michael began rutting into you, hitting that spongey spot inside you that made you see stars.
You cried out, your nails clawing at his back, definitely leaving marks deep enough to scar.
Michael groaned on top of you, you could feel him getting closer by the way his dick was pulsing inside you. Instinctively your pussy squeezed around him, pulling him in deeper to you.
He let out a whimper, a fucking whimper.
“Schatz–I-I’m close,” He moaned out breathily, his hands clutching you, the sheets, anything to ground him as your pretty pussy ruined him.
“Come inside Mihya” You cooed, your hand grabbing his jaw to pull him into a kiss.
Michael threw one hand into your hair, gripping onto you for dear life, and pushed down on your stomach with the other.
Both of you rolled your eyes back immediately, moaning obscenely into each others mouths. Him, because feeling how deep his cock was inside of you completely overtook all his senses, and you because it made his cock hit an angle inside you, you didn’t even know existed.
Michael pressed down harder as his thrusts began to become sloppy and desperate, his lips moving against yours obscenely, as you both bit and chased each other with spit circling your lips.
Your pussy clenched around his thick cock once, and it was all it took to send you two over the edge. He came inside you with a guttural groan the neighbors definitely heard as he spilled his seed inside you. Your pussy clamped down on him hard, as your walls spasmed and you came all over his dick, your juices coating his thick cock.
Michael kept rocking into you gently, getting you both through your highs. His abdomen flaunting your shared arousal, his cum dripping down out your pussy and onto his expensive silk sheets.
He kissed you then, breathing heavily and still sheathed inside you, not moving anymore. He moaned obscenely against your lips, his hand clutching to your hair, some of his fingers intertwined with your messy strands, and some of them gripping the crown on your head. Almost as if he was making sure this was real, like you were real, hoping that you were here, that you’d stay. And of course, you would.
Michael Kaiser had finally found his fairytale ending. He an Emperor, with his Empress under him, adorned in her Emperors crown and his markings along her body, as they lay entangled.
Did i cook?!
Pls tell me i did. plsplsplspls
Not proofread, pls spare me, i wrote this in the middle of the night
Bunny, Sae, and more Michael and Vivian coming soon….Let me know if there’s anyone you wanna specifically see!
“h-hugo it won’t fit..” you mumbled, his fat tip nudging between your folds. “i’ll make it fit.” he responded back, holding your hips steady to stop your squirming.
hugo leaned down, pressing a kiss to your temple to try and soften the sharp pressure you felt. "relax for me, mon amour," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and soothing despite the overwhelming stretch. "breathe."
he kept the movement agonizingly slow, letting you adjust inch by inch.
"halfway there, amour," hugo grunted, his forehead resting against your back as he stayed perfectly still. you could feel every vein and ridge of his massive cock, your pussy stretched so tight around him it almost hurt. but there was something insanely satisfying about being filled so completely.
"almost there," he whispered, the words brushing against your ear before he shifted his weight. a single, deliberate push, and the rest of his thick cock glided inside you with a soft, slick sound.
he let out a long, shaky breath of relief, the tip finally pressing deep against your womb.
you moaned, "that’s it." hugo groaned deeply, dropping his head back against the mattress with absolute bliss. his large hands immediately settled on your hips, helping guide your rhythm, letting you bounce up and down that thick length at your own pace.
"good girl. just like that." he encouraged, watching his cock disappear into your stretched pussy. "take your time, chérie."
your pace was slow and steady, taking him deeply with each roll of your hips. hugo's cock was so large that even this gentle pace had him seeing stars. one hand slid up to squeeze your breast, thumb brushing over the sensitive peak as he began to move his hips in counterpoint to your movements.
every time you sank down, he nudged that sweet, swollen spot deep inside you, drawing soft cries from your throat. he watched, mesmerized, as your pussy swallowed his thick length, the wet, slick sounds growing louder in the quiet room.
"look at you.." he said softly, eyes roaming over your body. your full breasts bouncing slightly with each movement, belly concave with effort, inner thighs spread wide to accommodate his thick hips.
"taking my cock so nicely, amour..." his voice dropped lower.
your orgasm hit like a wave, body tightening around his cock. hugo let out a guttural groan, burying his face in your hair. the feel of your inner walls milking him was too much.
without waiting, his hips snapped upward into you, pumping deep throbs of seed into your tight cunt. "take it, chérie."
the pleasure was overwhelming—your orgasm pushing him closer to his own. his hips stuttered, slamming up into you repeatedly as hot ropes of cum coated your insides. your walls clenched around him like a vice, milking every last drop.
his cock twitched violently inside you, pumping load after load.
virgin!valko finds a new scent! ...right between your legs?!
wc: 1475
content: smut, pussy eating, pussy sniffing, sniffing everywhere, biting, valko dry humps the bed n cums all over himself, mentions predator/prey dynamic, mentions marking and abo, not proofread
“mmh. did you go somewhere new today?” valko mumbles against the skin of your shoulder, rubbing his cheek against the scar of his mark there, scenting you.
you lazily flip the page of the book you’re reading, not paying him much attention. “nope. just to the post office, why?”
valko presses his nose to your neck and sniffs the area heavily, lifting your arm and smelling down it as well. “you have a new smell.”
“hmm. well, let me know what it is when you find it.” you say, brushing it off.
valko was always saying you smelled different, thanks to his hypersensitive sense of smell. normally it was just a spice you’d used to cook, or a new skin product. he’d sniff you all over for half an hour, maybe longer, until he found it, then he’d be satisfied.
over the next fifteen minutes, valko sniffed your entire upper body over heavily, occasionally stopping to lap at your skin affectionately.
it wasn’t until he had his nose pressed against your crotch that his tail finally gave a wag. he popped his head up and tapped your inner thigh.
“i found the new smell.” he announces, proud of himself.
you glanced down at him and stifled a laugh. “what, my pussy? have you never smelled it before?”
as if realizing what he’d been doing for the first time, valko sat up, his cheeks flushed. “uh- sorry, i didn’t mean to invade your privacy like that.”
“it’s fine, valko, really. we’re dating, anyway. i’ve honestly been waiting for you to work up the courage to get down there.”
you bookmark your page and set the book down, wiggling down to get comfy against your mattress and spread your legs just slightly.
valko’s expression softens slightly, his eyes still full of curiosity. “really?”
“mhmm.” you nod and stretch your arms out, bored. “i can tell you wanna investigate..” you reach down and pull the crotch part of your loose shorts to the side, exposing the dampened fabric of your panties.
the scent hits valko stronger than before and his previous hesitation vanishes. his pupils dilate and drool pools im his mouth, threatening to spill out the corners.
he plops himself back between your thighs and noses your shorts to the side. his nose presses directly against your clit, inhaling deeply and exhaling with loud whines.
you expect him to move your panties to the side and start licking or sucking or something, but he just keeps sniffing you through them like the scent was giving him a high. you let him be for another minute before clearing your throat.
“ko, my love, do you not know how to eat someone out?” you try to ask as nicely as possible, but your voice has a hint of teasing.
he peeks up at you, yellow eyes wide with embarrassment. “no, of course i do, i’m just trying to figure out what the smell is.”
you sigh and press against his forehead, pushing his head out from between your legs. he pouts and is about to start whining again until you peel your shorts and panties off, tossing them somewhere to the side.
you take his hand and run his pointer and middle fingers through your slit, shivering at the stimulation. you guide his fingers to his nose for him to sniff, which he obviously does with vigor.
“it’s arousal. i’m aroused, valko.”
valko sniffs his own fingers heavily, giving you a distracted little. “hmm?”
you groan and grab his jaw, pull it open, and shove his wet fingers into his mouth. “do i need to hols your hand for every little thing? im horny eat me out, finger me, fuck me- do literally anything or i’m using my toys while you watch.”
“you’re horny? like, you want to reproduce?” valko asks, pieces coming together in his head. unfortunately for you, the taste and smell of you has valko’s brain thinking more werewolf than human.
you nod and lay back down, relieved that he seems to suddenly understand. “exactly- well, not quite the reproduction part, but yes to the horny part.”
his tongue was lapping at the liquid drooling from your pussy in an instant, the rough texture a new feeling for you.
it only took a minute or so for you to realize that valko… wasn’t good at this. his tongue was clunky and he was avoiding all the spots he shouldn't avoid.
you cleared your throat and scratched at his fluffy ear. “are you a virgin?”
valko continued delivering slobbery kisses to your hole. “mmhmmmm.” he answered happily, droopy eyes opening up to meet yours. “my mate..”
you raise an eyebrow, skeptical. “you’re telling me you have never slept with anyone else? you??”
he pulled back slightly, biting on your inner thigh. “never. we mate for life, and you’re my mate, aren’t you?”
“well not technically-” you counter, only for him to interrupt you with a growl.
“not yet. this counts as mating. you’re..” he goes right back to sniffing you, whining at the heady scent. his hips roll against the mattress, desperate for stimulation. “you’re in heat, i’ll fix it.”
valko slurped and prodded at your entrance, his tongue sinking in and out experimentally. slowly hur surely, he found a rhythm that made moans bubble out of you and your back arch.
you gripped his plum colored hair and pulled. a tail with the matching plum color popped up behind him and swished back and forth agressively.
your whines and pleas encouraged valko, spurring him on as he doubled his efforts. the more he went, the more wet you got, which increased the scent just millimeters from his nose. he took in big gulps of air through his nose, sniffing you while his mouth was preoccupied.
“valk- mmhhhh, fuck!” your fingers twisted in his hair, holding him still as you ground against his face.
he pushed another finger in beside the first and curled it upwards, tongue swirling around your puffy clit at the same time.
valko humped the bed, his clothed dick hard and leaky as he savored your taste.
you whined his name again and he looked up at you, his yellow eyes glowing and piercing yours in the dark room.
you knew valko was sweet and you knew he would never in a million years hurt you, but when he looked at you like that with his eyes dilated… it felt like he was hunting you.
you didn’t have time to process how helpless that made you feel and how much you liked it before you came. you think you screamed, but you’re not entirely sure. the only thing you know is that when you sat up, your body felt like lead, your head was fuzzy, and valko’s face, hair, and fluffy ears were coated in your cum.
you’d squirted on him- the poor guy had never eaten someone out before, and you’d soaked him.
“shit, i’m so sorry, i didn’t know that would-” you try to apologize, but are cut off by valko continuing yo eat you out, far more ravenous this time.
you squeak and dig your nails into the thick muscle of his shoulder. “what are you doing?! i already came- mmh!”
he hums against you, talking with his mouth full. “i know, it’s all over me- fuck, more, i need more. give me more.” he growled, feral.
your scent was too much for him to handle when it was contained in your pants, but now that it was physically on his skin and seeping into his hair and fur? it was impossible to act with decorum.
valko didn’t relent until you’d came five more times, only stopping once he realized you were crying from overstimulation.
he’d also cum numerous times in his pants, whimpering and whining in both pain and pleasure at how his knot swelled against nothing, throbbing uselessly as he wasted his cum.
valko cuddled you after, laying you on top of him and nuzzling his face (still coated in your cum) against yours. you’d chastized him for that, trying to convince him to wash it off, but he looked at you like you’d asked him to shave his tail. “you marked me, don’t you realize? i’m never cleaning my face.”
you scoff and gnaw at the spot between his shoukder and neck. “i could actually mark you if you want.”
valko’s tail thumped against the bed beside you, wagging happily. “please? please, pleaseee mark me, i’m ready.”
“mmmh. fine. but that makes me the alpha, doesn’t it?” you tease him with a smirk.
valko huffed and raised his lip, showing his fangs. “you don’t have these, do you?”
you laugh and shush him. “quiet down and let me mark you, like a good omega.”
valko growled, but whined happily when you bit at his skin.
a/n: they were supposed to fuck but i got lost im the sauce like valko
ragebaiting older! boss! tsukishima until he fires fucks you
tags + tws ;; wc 4.8k , nsfw 18+, fem! reader, mentions of strokes, age gap (early twenties reader & late thirties tsukki), inappropriate workplace relationships, power dynamics, rough / angry sex, degradation, praise, vaginal, oral (fem receiving), spanking and fingering.
you're not sure when ragebaiting and purposefully agitating your boss at work became your new favourite pastime, but now you are afraid it might be the only thing getting you through your banal days as an assistant at the sendai city museum.
you were naive enough to think that working at a museum would be awesome; you'd get to see all the new exhibits early, set up them up and spend lots of time researching their history and finding new ones. but apparently that is not your job. instead, you get to do all the work that no one else wants to do — organising files, managing bookings and everyone's favourite, doing the morning coffee run. yipee.
but what does add a little bit of spice to your otherwise painfully boring day, is annoying your boss — tsukishima kei, the museum's head curator. he's an older guy, late thirties or early forties if you had to guess, and he's quite stern-looking. he wears a ironed white shirt and black trousers to work everyday, with black rectangle glasses.
he's such a character. constantly stressed out and so strict that you'd think he might drop dead from cardiac arrest if something were to ever go wrong. you'd be inclined to tell him that work really isn't serious, but from the chunky, expensive-looking watches and designer cologne he wears to work everyday, you reckon if you were getting paid as much as him, you'd act the same way.
he is extremely serious, though. he'll seldom have a laugh in the breakroom and he always looks at you like he's judging you for something. whenever you talk to him, he either responds curtly or he snaps at you for doing something wrong. everyone else at the museum thinks he's a dick, but you find him oddly endearing. especially as he's come to be the source of your amusement.
STRIKE ONE. you rush into his office with a drink carrier in both hands. setting them both down on the corner of his massive desk, you pick up one drink at a time and scan the exterior, as they are all labelled with the name of the colleague who ordered it. eventually, you find tsukishima's and slide it towards him with a bright smile.
"here you are, one large black coffee with two sugars." you hum, picking up the two drink carriers, about to leave his office. he only looks away from his monitor momentarily to flash you a tiny smile and quietly mutter, "thanks." he picks up the cup and brings it to his lips for a long sip.
"see you around." you sing, about to exit his office and deliver the other coffees, until you hear him call out behind you,
"erm, why is 'princess' written on my cup?"
you turn around to look at him, still wearing a smile even as he glares at you with a expression filled with a mix of disgust and suspicion. "oh, that's just the silly name i gave to the barista. they write it on the cup so i know whose drink belongs to who."
"right." he clicks his tongue, narrowed eyes glancing between you and his cup, "and is there a reason why you didn't use my actual name? or.. any other noun?"
you're left speechless for a moment. in all honesty, you weren't expecting him to call you out on it; you thought you'd be able to leave his office before he noticed, then point it out in the breakroom. defensively, you splutter, "it's just a bit of harmless fun and silliness, sir. no need to get so worked up about it. but if you are really upset by it, i'll give them your actual name next time i go, mkay?"
he opens his mouth. likely to rebuttal against your claim that he is getting 'worked up' or is 'upset', but before the words can even leave his mouth you swiftly close the door to his office with a perky, "see you later!"
and tsukishima is left irritated, drinking out of his princess cup.
STRIKE TWO. in typical assistant fashion, you eventually are left to deal with arranging meeting between tsukishima and whoever else — whether that's curators from other museums or private buyers/sellers. recently, there's been one seller from overseas that he really wanted to meet with; he'd been trying for ages but apparently this guy must be really busy or something because it took tsukishima four months to even get a reply from the man himself, wherein the man said he'd be happy to meet, if he has time. then, tsukishima left you to iron out the specific details and nail down a time/date.
the door to his office swings open and you proudly beam at him while standing in the doorway. he's in the middle of reading a file on his desk, so he only briefly looks up at you over the rim of his glasses which have slid down his nose, "can i help you?"
"nope, but i can help you." you proclaim, meanwhile he doesn't even look up from his papers as he raises and eyebrow, urging you to continue. you do so, saying, "guess who managed to secure a date and venue for your meeting with... the important guy, whose name i forgot."
tsukishima visibly perks up from his chair, drops his pen in shock and locks eyes with you, and you swear for a millisecond, an emotion that could be perceived as joy lights up his face. "mr kim?!"
"yes, him!"
"excellent work." he gives you an approving nod, picking up his pen and resuming his work, "when is the meeting?"
"uh, well, he said he'd only meet with you if for when you okay, he would let you to."
tsukishima continues to nod, scanning the text in front of him, "right, forward me the ema—" he pauses, mind stuttering as he attempts to process what you said, "uh, sorry, could you repeat that for me?"
"he said he'd only meet with you if for when you okay, he would let you to."
you say it with such a rehearsed confidence that tsukishima sooner believes that he may be having a stroke than the idea that you might just be pranking him. "sorry," he clears his throat and straightens in his chair, "one more time, please."
"he said," you stress this time, "he'd only meet with you for when you okay, he would let you to."
now finally starting to catch on, his expression of befuddlement slowly begins to transform into one of annoyance, "that doesn't make any sense."
"yes, it does." you scoff, putting on a matching face of aggravation, "maybe you're just having a senior moment. here, i'll repeat it for you once more: he said he'd only meet with you for when you okay, he would let y—"
"that doesn't make any fucking sense! what're you even trying to say?" you snaps at you, and you open your mouth to say something that would piss him off even more, but at this point you are struggling to hide how amused you are by his reaction and a sly smile begins to tug at the corners of your lips, one that you try so hard to suppress but he notices anyway, and when he does he sighs, "get out of my office."
you nod, putting a hand over your mouth to muffle your snickering as you leave the office, closing the door behind you.
there's a moment of silence where tsukishima can hear the blood vessels in his forehead bulging, but you break it by popping your head into the room and stating, "i did actually get a meeting with the guy though. it's next friday at two o'clock at the plaza lunch spot. i'll forward you the details." and you just as hastily dip out.
at least one good thing came of that interaction, he tells himself.
STRIKE THREE. there's a knock at his door, but he's on his lunch break. everyone knows that he takes his lunch between 1.30 and 2.30 — the same time it has been for the last 18 years — and expressly asks no one to disturb him during this period, so who would be inconsiderate enough to knock on his door while he's eating his su— oh, of course.
the moment he realises who it is on the other side of the door, it creeps open and your head pokes in and proves his assumption to be correct.
he covers his mouth as he's still chewing on his sandwich, "i didn't say you could come in."
"but it's an emergency, sir!"
"what is it?" he quirks a brow. usually if someone interrupted his lunch with an 'emergency', he'd show a bit more concern but given that it's you and you once referred to a cologne he was wearing that you weren't particularly fond of as a 'nasal assault and biohazard', he has reason to believe that you're being hyperbolic.
another assumption proven correct as you explain, "someone brought in tuna and egg salad for lunch and now the breakroom reeks." your eyes squeeze shut, cringing as you recall the awful odour, "could i please eat lunch in here, with you?"
"that's a stu—" for second he forgets that he's your boss and he's only meant to use professional language, but he hastily catches himself, "that's a ridiculous complaint. just open a window." he takes another bite of his sandwich.
"but sir, it's such a foul smell, you don't understand." you continue to whine, leaning against the door, "and i wouldn't you like to have someone to talk to during your lunch break?"
"my office isn't for fraternising." he states bluntly, "anyway, if i let you eat in here, soon enough everyone will be eating there lunch in here."
"i highly doubt anyone else would volunteer to eat in your company." you chirp in such a sweet tone of voice that it takes tsukishima a few moments to compute how offensive that is, "even if they do, you can just tell them to politely get lost because i am the only employee who is tolerable enough to eat with you."
"i'm not sure how true that is." he contemplates, leaning back in his chair and catching a glimpse of the clock. more of his fleeting lunch hour was slipping away from him as he entertained his conversation. a part of him wanted to angrily assert himself and tell you that you weren't going to eat with him. but an even larger part of him was oddly endeared by you, even though he couldn't even begin to explain why.
regardless, he ought to end this conversation somehow. he gives you a once-over and lazily slides his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, sighing, "you're lucky you caught me in a good mood. sit." he motions to the chair across from him.
you smile, humming a "thank you." as you shuffle into the room and take a seat at the opposite side of his desk as instructed. once sat, you start to unwrap your lunch, "what's got you in such a good mood, anyway?"
"my lunch is quite good today." he explains, covering his mouth as he chews.
"cool, did your wife make it for you?" you ask, taking a bite of your own food.
"no, i'm unmarried. i made it myself." his tone softens slightly.
"right." you buzz, eyes scanning around his room. it dawns on you that you've never had a proper look around his office before. he has all sorts of books and chachkies on his bookshelves, as well as various diplomas, pictures and certificates in frames. most of them seemed to be academic or museum-related accolades, but one in particular stood out to you. hence, you ask, "who are the sendai frogs?" eyes narrowed, trying to read all the text on the certificate.
he follows your gaze until it falls upon the sole volleyball-related item he has displayed in his office. "that's the volleyball team i used to play for." he turns round in his chair to face you again.
"oh, volleyball. is that the sport you were into back when you were athletic?"
he chuckles at your poorly veiled jibe and attempt to get a rise out of him. instead, he plays along for a change, "yes. back when i was athletic, i'd play a lot of volleyball." his eyes fall on the desk, giving the appearance of absence as he reminisces on the fond memories, "that certificate is from when we won the v. league tournament."
"interesting." you nod along. as you do so, he opens a drawer on his desk and rummages around. this goes on until he finds a picture and slides it along to you. leaning forward to look at it, you see it's a slightly crumbled photo of an entire team of volleyball players lined up, all wearing a bright green and yellow uniform, likely the sendai frogs. and you become certain of this when you find a much younger version of your boss in this line-up, in the back row. "aww, is that you?"
"with my team, yes."
so he's always been deadpan-looking. good to know. "how long ago was this?"
he grimaces, "15 years ago, i think."
"you must've been around my age in this photo." you giggle, even harder when you watch his face fall into an unimpressed glare. he tries the slide the photo back over to himself, but you keep a hand on it, "how do i know this isn't ai?"
"ai?" he almost gasps.
"yeah, like, artificial intelligence." you knit your brows together, "it's when a neutral network is trained on data and learn how to—"
"i know what ai is; i'm not an idiot!" he snaps, snatching his photo back, "it's not that. it's a real picture." he insists.
"mm, i'm not so sure. i swear i saw one of the guys had seven fingers on one hand!" you smirk, trying to grab the photo back but he yanks his drawer open and shoves it back in there. "plus, i find it hard to believe you looked like that 15 years ago and you're still unmarried."
it's around now that he starts to realise that you're deliberately trying to get a rise out of him again; he's not sure how he keeps falling for it. regardless, he's left speechless by your two observations — momentarily, at least. there's silence until he finishes chewing on his sandwich and swallows, "no one had seven fingers in that photo, firstly." he huffed, avoiding eye contact, "secondly, i appreciate your attempt at flattery."
"any time." you laugh, and so does he.
YOU'RE OUT. with your head resting on knuckles, you aimlessly type away on your keyboard — next to you is stack of files you've been asked to digitise, so you're hours into typing them all up. there's a software that is meant to transcribe the text from a photo, but the majority of the papers were too crumbled or damaged for it to work. thus, you are left to do it manually in a hackneyed haze.
until you see a notification appear in the bottom corner of your screen. it's an email, from tsukishima. without thinking you immediately stop typing and click on it, bringing the email to full screen.
"SUBJECT: Performance Review.
Hi,
As you may know, it's protocol here at the Sendai City Museum that every member of staff undergoes an annual performance review, conducted by their supervisor. This is done to ensure that everyone is applying their best efforts to their roles and to address any qualms that staff may have.
I'm aware that you have not been employed here for over a year, thus usual procedure stipulates that you do not require a review yet. However, due to recent behaviours and concerns, I believe that an exception can be made in this instance.
I've set a meeting time for 6PM on Friday.
Regards, Tsukishima."
What the hell?
Over the last three days, basically ever since you received that email, you've been on your very best behaviour. You've not been irritating him or bothering him during his lunch hour, nor have you been giving pet names to the barista to put on his coffee. nothing of the sort; you've been the perfect employee — keeping your head down and getting on with your assignments.
granted, being the perfect employee sucks and isn't entertaining whatsoever. but you didn't want to give your boss any more reasons to fire you.
truthfully, a part of you is incredibly shocked that this would even happen. up until now you thought that tsukishima was good humoured enough to understand that all the social transgression you committed were simply in jest. you thought that was the kinda dynamic going on; that he was terribly strict and rude but he'd make up for it by being secretly cool enough to overlook certain things that you did. evidently you misjudged that. turns out he's just strict and rude, with no redeeming qualities. being hot doesn't count as a redeeming quality.
it's whatever. hopefully you'll be able to weasel your way out of any disciplinary action by being sweet but even if you are fired, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world — is what you tell yourself. this job is boring anyway, and it would be constructive for you to free yourself from the shackles of evil co-workers and rooms that smell like drywall and dust constantly.
so, when friday 6PM rolls around and everyone packs up and starts filtering out of the museum, you grab your staff and stroll towards tsukishima's office without a care in the world. well, maybe you cared a little, evidenced by the tremor in your knees and twitching of your eye. but largely, you didn't care!
you knock on the door and he summons you in, and you take a seat across from him, just like you did when you were eating lunch together. although atmosphere this time was far more intense. he's got a suit jacket on this time and you can smell his expensive, fresh cologne from across the desk. he has files in front of him but you can't read them because his computer is in the way.
"glad you came." he states monotonely, without looking up from the papers, "are you ready for your performance review?"
"no." you huff, crossing your arms over your chest, "you're just going to try come up with some reason to fire me, cos you're tired of me."
tsukishima stares at you wide-eyed, honestly he was not expecting you to be so upfront and confrontation about this. people in the professional world usually aren't. he clears his throat and replies, "true, i am tired of you. but i'm not looking for a reason to fire you. the work have done so far is decent, so i invited you here to give you the opportunity to apologise, promise you'll stop being an annoyance and then we could both move on."
"apologise?!" you snort, "why would i apologise? i've not done anything wrong."
"that so?" he quirks a brow, biting the inside of his mouth to stop himself from raising his voice, "what about the time you tricked me into thinking i was having a stroke?"
"i just said a few words out of order; stop being dramatic." you scoff, rolling your eyes, under the firm belief that nothing you've done so far could be classified as 'wrong'. just silly, vexing even.
"you disturbed me during my lunch break and said my certificate was fake." he sneers.
"how dare i disturb lord tsukishima during his sacred lunch hour. if that is such a blasphemous deed then feel free to exile me." you gawk, tone dripping with sarcasm and contempt, all while tsukishima glares daggers at you from across the desk. "also, i did not say your certificate was fake. i'm sure you did win that junior league volleyball tournament eons ago; i said the picture was fake, and we established i was only joking."
tsukishima's heart races. he's not been spoken to in much a manner by a subordinate since... ever. despite working here for over ten years, he still doesn't feel practised enough to know how to deal with this. but what he does know is that you are triggering the asshole in him, hence he stands up with his hands on his desk and commands down at you, with the intention of putting a quick end to this confrontation, "joking or not, you've been shockingly unprofessional these last couple weeks. now, quiet down or else i'll... uh, i'll"
he stumbles over his words. unsure if he should threaten to fire you or something more severe, and this decision results in him stumbling over his words — a fatal error. this allows you the chance to stand up slowly from your chair, not quite getting on his level but still a intimidating display of fearlessness. you scowl up at him and ask, "or else you'll what?"
...
there's a pause. the seconds after that are a frenzy of limbs, heated kisses and hands where they don't belong. you never though this would be the boiling point of your uneasy relationship with your dickhead boss, but here you are; folded over his desk with your skirt hiked up to your waist, his papers all thrown to the floor and his computer shoved aside. "ngh, please.." you groan.
"this what you wanted?" he mutter harshly under his breath as he frantically undoes his zipper and pulls out his cock, smearing the head against your pleading lips, "all of this just to get my attention?" you moan out in reaction to his tip against your hot core and he takes his as a response, "well, you've got it now." he punctuates his sentence with a firm slap on your ass which makes you cry out even more.
from his big hands on your waist pinning you down, to his hot minty breath breathing down your neck, your already soaked for him by this point. his cockhead runs back and forth through your folds, simulating your needy heat until he finally dips his tip shallowly into your hole and growls, "need me to teach you how to fucking behave?"
"yes, sir." you mewl back, trying to buck back onto his dick but his arm is surprisingly strong and keeps you pinned right in place, any attempt you make to move back is futile.
he laugh at this and says, "that's what i thought." right before plunging into you, his lengthy shaft penetrating you and splitting you open on his desk. a staggered moan rips from your throat as this happens, but it's hardly a deterrent for tsukishima. "feeling sorry yet?"
"y-yeah." you stammer, eyes squeezed shut. his length is pushing against your insides, and you're barely able to fit him but he's crammed himself all the way in there, to the point were your folds are virtually kissing his base. you're unable to cope with the vast amount of pleasure and discomfort circling in your abdomen, you try to grab onto something but he has you laid out on his desk, tits pressed against the hard wood. you can't grab the smooth surface so fingers curl around the front edge of the desk.
"good. and i'm also sorry for what i'm about to do to this poor cunt." his voice drips with scorn. he kisses his fingers and uses them to lovingly massage and toy with your clit. giving you a few deceptively calm and sweet moments to cherish before he yanks his hand away and begins pounding into you from behind.
the force of his hips snapping into your ass causes your whole body to shake and rock on top of desk, his hands moving you to the natural rhythm and emphasisng your ass bouncing on his pelvis. "how's it feel, baby?" he grabs a handful of your ass, using that and your waist to keep you in place.
"guh— hah— good!" you squeal, eyes rolling back in your head from the intense euphoria of his cock repeatedly cramming itself into your sopping pussy. having to contort around his length each time brings you a sizzle of pain and satisfaction that it near constant.
"hurts?"
"y-yeah."
"good." he smirks, slapping your ass once more and basking the cute squeak you emit. "it's what you get for being a fucking brat."
"seriously." he gasps, losing momentum slightly but still got a fire in him, a desire to rearrange your insides and keep lashing into you until you've forgot your own name. "i've worked here for over a decade." his teeth grind together, cock starting to weep at being suffocated by your drenched pussy. "and i've never met a girl as insolent and— ah— tight, as you!"
you're not sure if that was meant to be an insult, either way you only feel more motivated to clamp down on him, and his eagerness to be inside you works against him as you swallow him up and he cums inside you, gripping your ass and waist as he fills you up with his seed. his nails dig into you so you're moan moaning all the way through his climax.
once he's done, he leans forward and grabs your hair, pulling you back into a rough arch so he can whisper in your ear, "learnt your lesson yet?" as he nears you, the aroma of sandalwood and citrus, mingled with his natural musk floods your senses. "still feel like being an annoyance, or does this slutty cunt need another round?"
although the proposition of another creampie is tempting, you do feel quite worn out. additionally, you feel like tsukishima definitely put his best effort into that so you should probably throw the old man a bone. "i've.. learned my lesson."
there's a beat of silence. tsukishima gently lets go of your hair and your heads rests back on the desk, as he straightens himself out. "hm," he clicks his tongue, pulling out of your soiled pussy with a lewd squelch, "i should probably make you come anyway, for good measure."
before you can even properly process what he said, his slender fingers latch back onto your poor clit. he's awfully cruel, rubbing and pinching and pulling the most pornographic moans from you. toes curling with ecstasy, your mind blurs in a haze of lust and you all but melt into the desk.
you're so lost in your horny trance that you almost choke on your own spit when replaces his fingers on your clit with tongue, "mm, delicious, sweetheart." he hums into your cunt, the vibrations sends a shiver down your spine. his lips work against your folds, then his tongue ventures deeper into your hole, although as the distance closes his glasses end up in the way. the cold surface against your warmth serves as a shock to your system and your eyes jolt open.
he briefly pulls away and removes them, noticing your juices on them and muttering, "crude slut." under his breath, but still loud enough for you to hear. mixed signals. you're not given a moment to ponder it though as he dives straight back into your cunt. he wraps an strong arm around your legs and licks stripes inside you, forcing the full length of his tongue inside your pussy.
due to his expert fingers stimulating your clit and the ceaseless movement of his tongue, it's not long before your hunched over the desk and screaming his name into the emptiness of the room. "please, please— tsukishima! i—"
"shh, shh, baby." he urges, swiftly replacing his tongue with the fingers of his other hand and skillfully coaxing you through your orgasm, not allowing for even a momentary lull in the onslaught of pleasure. "almost there. let me take care of you."
you do as he says, fully submitted to his hand and just as promised, he guides you through your climax with ease. the concrete ball on your stomach dissolves into something much softer and your spasming walls fade in intensity. soon, you're laying breathless and completely fucked out on your boss' desk, pussy dripping onto the vinyl floor.
he gets up from his knees and composes himself up: zipping his fly, putting his glasses back on, tidying his hair and the like. then, he calmly saunter around to the front of his desk where you face is, and sit down in his chair. he smirks down at you, "that was relaxing. for me."
"something like that." you pant, resting your cheek on the wood.
"tired?"
"very."
"consider yourself lucky, then." he learns back in his chair, idly moving side to side, "had we done this 'back when i was athletic', you'd be worse off." he chuckles to himself, and you're too spent to laugh.
"so, am i fired?" you ask groggily.
"as long as you're not still laying with your legs spread come morning, no."
your eyes widen at this, "really?"
"if i fired you, you'd just goo out and find some other old man to terrorise." he explains, meeting your weary gaze, "it's best you stay. at least i've figured out a way to deal with you."
areudirty
pixelskylines
tangentwithtanner
2087
yousharknotpass
