the winehouse

dom!reader blog & occasional reposts | 18+ mdni

[m1ndpalace]

☆ The Mindpalace ☆

SHE/THEY | INTP | VIRGO | 20 • MASTERLIST (is under construction)

a fic dump by yours truly, dedicated to nsfw • 18+ minors dni

[ask me anything!]

♧ please note that this blog mostly contains mature content.

p.s. if you have any issue/s about my content or this blog in general, feel free to dm me or send me an ask :))

♧ basically a multi-fandom smut dump nyehehe

●○● fandoms ○●○

♡ bungo stray dogs

♡ genshin impact

♡ dispatch

[spitdrunken]

a bunch of people write about herman just. cumming sooo much, like loads and loads, and i really love that idea as well! but i was also just thinking about the physical consequences of that <3

poor herman who has to jerk off at least twice a day, otherwise it just starts to genuinely feel noticeable! his balls just feel… kind of heavy. it's distracting, and he gets hard a lot to begin with. he doesn't even mean to, it's bad, he feels awful about it, but it happens a lot and especially around you. poor, poor herman who has to lock himself in the bathroom during a shift to zip down his suit and try to quietly cum into his fist as fast as possible, just so he's capable of focusing on work for the rest of the day!

he's had to deal with this issue for ages and, embarrassing as it may be, he's got quite a few toys to deal with it. it's always risky doing it at home, while living with his grandmother, of all people… but he takes care of all the cleaning around the house, and he's pretty sure that when he puts his favourite band on, she really can't hear what's going on. her hearing isn't that great anymore to begin with.

well. it hasn't ever managed to deter him that much. herman thinks about you when he's fucking into his favourite cocksleeve--just a little too small for his cock, honestly, and always overflows with his cum when he finishes--bent over and panting. every part of his body is slick with water and sweat. without fail, herman always starts to sniffle and whine when he cums.

lately, he's started denying himself a bit… thinking of you chastising him when he's getting off during work hours, or even outside of that, anytime he touches himself without you being around or letting you know… needing to be granted permission by you. his hand speeds up a little at the thought of having to wear some kind of cage (despite it being impossible to get away with during his tight wetsuit) under his clothing, the absolute torture of having to wait… but he wants to be a good boy for you so, so bad.

[keiosity]

Locker room lessons | Waterboy & Robert (Dispatch)

Part two of Definitely an HR Violation (Read part one here)

CROSS-POSTED FROM AO3

WC: 10K

SUMMARY: The first time you crossed a line was when you shared that night in the office with Waterboy during the party. The second was when you called him by his first name during a mission. And the third? This one happened in the locker room. But this time, you both crossed it with Robert Robertson the third.

CONTENT: Established relationship, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Dom/sub undertones, Praise kink, Voice kink, No sex, Bisexual characters, Consensual sharing, Switching

RATING: EXPLICIT

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

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A flip had been switched.

A month ago, you would’ve never thought Waterboy would talk to you. Let alone, be in the same room as you were. But something changed after that night during the party. If you could travel back in time and tell your past self from a month ago about your current situation now, she wouldn't believe a word you were saying.

Waterboy used to avoid you like a plague, but now you couldn't be seen without him following you around like a lost puppy.

If you were to be honest, you didn't expect him to get so attached easily. Then again, you weren’t surprised to find out he was one of those types who'd catch feelings quickly after a good fuck. Not that you were complaining. After an entire month of chasing after him, hoping to find answers, you finally had him wrapped around your finger.

To everyone's eyes, you finally became more acquainted with each other after months of running around. To Blonde Blazer, it was about time you two got along well. Robert, who took the opportunity to comment on every single little thing, praised the newly formed friendship through his own sarcastic way.

“Great. Looks like water and shadow are buddies now. How'd you like more missions together?”

What he didn't know was how much you enjoyed getting paired with Waterboy during your dispatches. Not only did you take pleasure watching him defeat your enemies, but seeing him in action really brought a different side out of him—stronger, braver, more confident. You’d be lying if you said seeing him like that didn’t turn you on immediately.

You weren't supposed to like him after that. You weren't supposed to be thinking about holding his hand to comfort him when he's down. You weren't supposed to feel all fluttery whenever he smiled at your direction, waving excitedly from across the room. You weren't supposed to dream about waking up next to him, wrapped in his arms and feel his heartbeat beneath your skin.

But then he just has to go and be so fucking sweet.

It started off with simple things.

Small little love notes taped to a packed lunch in the fridge with your name drawn with hearts. His encouraging cheers from the sidelines while you were busy taking down an enemy together. The amount of attempts he tried to ask you if he could walk you home. And don't even get started on the messages. Every time you got home, you always expected to see him asking how your day had been and if you were doing alright after the missions.

He'd also send cute pictures of his grandmother's cats, different colors yet the same cuteness that might just steal your heart even faster. His random updates about what he's planning to do for the day, what he saw during his walk, or the current show he's recently been obsessed with.

You didn't have the heart to leave him on read, so you replied every once in a while. Still, you didn't let the conversation go on for too long. Afraid of getting attached, and afraid you'll lead him on into something you're not sure to be ready for yet. Even if you wanted to tell him that whatever happened in that office was only a one time thing, something always stopped you from doing it.

You began replying to his messages longer, even reacting to his pictures at times. It got to the point where the conversions stretched into the long hours of the night, until you only have an hour or two left before going to work.

The first time you crossed the line was the night you shared in the office, and the second one when you called him by his name.

You were pinned in a mission after Robert decided to risk the percentages of your actions, which he gravely miscalculated, causing the plan to backfire and put both of your lives at risk. Waterboy was busy ushering nearby civilians out of the building, seconds away from collapsing, while you dealt with the Red Ring agents who planted the bombs.

Night was quickly crawling, and soon the building was shrouded in darkness. The bombs were your only source of light, flickering red against the shadows, as well as the ones glowing in their body.

Your job was to deactivate the bombs before they set off, while Waterboy escorted the civilians out before coming back in to engage with the enemies. You managed to deactivate the bombs through your shadows, slipping through every level until the last one died with static. When he returned, all of the agents attacked him without mercy. One of them managed to hit Waterboy straight in the chest, causing your partner to flung across the room and hit the wall with a sickening thud.

You returned just in time to see one of them holding him by his throat, while he clawed their arm desperately to escape.

Your vision turned red, dark tendrils surrounding your body until there was nothing left but swirls of smoke.

One of them grew too cocky, believing it was an easy win for their taking with Waterboy injured.

Six against one.

What were the percentages of you winning?

The answer?

A hundred.

In just a blink of an eye, all of them were frozen in their spots—completely immobile and entirely at your mercy. With them being in your domain. Oh, they wouldn't have the time to run.

Let alone scream.

Everyone nearby would've heard the gruesome massacre happening inside the building. They would've seen one or two bodies being thrown out of the windows by large tendrils of shadows. You barely remembered what happened during that night, only flashes of the look of terror in their faces and the cut off screams they failed to produce. You didn't stop even when Robert barked orders for you to stand down, reminding you of your primary objective—neutralize the enemies before the bombs all go off.

Oh, you didn't forget.

You simply followed.

When Waterboy finally came to, half of the agents were on the floor while the other half were missing. In the next second, you were kneeling beside his fallen figure. That was the first time your heart raced in a way you've never felt before. The sudden realization, the fear of losing him, overwhelmed you senselessly that caused you to disobey Robert’s orders just to take revenge.

You saw the way his eyes widened, taking in the sight of all agents lying lifelessly on the floor.

His mouth opened to speak, but your arms were around his neck before he could utter a word.

“Thought I lost you, Herm.”

He tensed under your hug, breath hitching, and for a moment he remained still. You were about to pull away and check on his injuries, when his arms slid around your back and he was hugging you closer against him.

“Heh, I'm not– you're not gonna get rid of me easily.”

When you kissed him, it was the moment you finally let your walls down and let him into your heart.

That night, he wasn't Waterboy anymore.

That night, he became Herm.

Being in a relationship was definitely not part of your year's bingo, but here you were.

Keeping it private wasn’t the challenging part. It was the fact you can’t do anything that could reveal your relationship. For weeks, you had to endure all those subtle connections. The discreet glances. The lingering touches. The whispered praises. The stolen kisses before and after missions. Everything fueled that ache in your chest—that inescapable yearning to be closer to him.

You didn't even realize it yet, but you found yourself falling deeper for the Water hero.

Okay, yeah.

You liked the guy.

More than a good office party fuck.

With the whole HR thing going on at the moment, you both agreed to keep things a secret for a while. Not out of embarrassment, but to make sure you wouldn't get in trouble at work. What you did was already enough to get the both of you cut from the program, what more if they find out about your budding relationship with him?

Vis was the first one to know about your new relationship. Of course, she was. Being your roommate, she was obligated to know and warned for any future hangouts in your apartment. At first, she didn't believe you were in a relationship out of nowhere. She figured you were only interested in him just for the sole purpose of getting laid. But then she came home one night, later than usual, and it was the same time you invited Herm over for movie night.

Yeah, the Z-team group chat was flooded with pictures of the both of you fast asleep on the couch.

Cuddling.

With Vis posing and smiling in each one.

And well. . . that was the start of your official relationship as Z-team’s first couple.

Blonde Blazer let your relationship pass.

However, an HR meeting was still made out of transparency. And of course, someone did report on the incident in one of the offices after the party weeks ago. You had to sit for a whole two hours trying not to fall asleep as Blonde Blazer droned on and on about office affairs and yada yada yada.

You caught his eye multiple times that day, fidgeting nervously in his seat. Every time you did, you'd send a wink in his direction, causing him to burn bright red and fidget even more. Thankfully, no one suspected it was the both of you. At least, none of them mentioned it if they knew.

Not that you cared, they can go get some themselves if they had a problem.

Just as long as there weren't any similar meetings in one of the offices again, you should be fine. You may or may not have a feeling she might know it was the two of you, because of the way she glanced at your direction and eyed both of you very discreetly.

Yeah, that's not gonna happen again.

Maybe.

You were still adjusting to the new shift, having a boyfriend meant commitment and you did not want to fuck this up. Vis was right about your interest being purely out of carnal curiosity at first, but the more you spent time with Herm, the more you realized that your interest went beyond that.

Each day before work, you'd always find him at the doorstep of your apartment. Sometimes, he'd have a wet flower in hand. Oftentimes, your favorite drink. And most of the time, a damp note containing a sweet poem, and he's surprisingly talented in those. Even when they were all affected by his power, you kept all of it in your room on your desk.

You always kissed his cheek before the start of your missions, and he'd always flush red much to your enjoyment. He brought you snacks in the office whenever you forgot to bring food, and you two ate together in the break room while talking about anything and everything. His grandmother, her endless amount of cats, why he decided to sign up for SDN, why you decided to sign up, and more. His stutter lessened around you, and his confidence improved each time you praised him for his achievements.

One thing about Herm, which everyone knew, was that he was a sweetheart.

He may not have the most skilled delivery when it comes to his words or actions, but his intentions always meant well. Not to mention, he's a terrible gentleman to everyone. You've grown to love that side of him, having discovered that his grandmother deeply influenced his kind and generous upbringing. His love for animals also grew a soft spot in you, but you already knew that from the way he interacted with beef and fed stray cats whenever he walked you home after work—you actually melted on the spot when you found out he carried cat treats in his pocket.

What can you say? You loved the ones with a golden heart. So easy to ruin. So easy to corrupt.

Which brought you to your second discovery.

Herm was not only a sweetheart, he was a freak. And you should've known it was always the ones you'd least expect. You just didn't expect him to be so touch-starved. Well, you already knew that from the first night in the office, but you never knew it was this bad.

Rephrasing that—

Waterboy was a sweetheart, but Herm was a freak.

Not that you were complaining.

What Vis didn't catch before she got home that night was your little moment with him.

In the middle of the movie, a sex scene started playing—typical for all horror and slasher films—but you quickly noticed him squirming in his seat. The loud gulps. His reddening cheeks. His hands shaking in his lap. The way he kept on gulping as if he was dehydrated despite being the complete opposite. And what gave it away was the hurried action of him swiping a pillow from the side to cover his lap.

But oh, you already knew.

Let's just say the rest of the movie was forgotten immediately the moment you threw the pillow across the room and straddled him down on the couch.

The memory was still fresh in your mind.

His soft whimpers next to your ear. His damp hands on your waist. His soft lips, bitten and swollen, around on your thumb. Whispered praises against his neck. His cock, hard and flushed, in your hand as you pumped him slowly. Teasing him until he was close, only to stop when he was just seconds away from coming. His breathless pleas. His adorable whines. And his repeated thank you once you finally granted him release.

You thought it was gonna stop there.

Oh, no.

Herm wanted to thank you in other ways.

You vaguely remember what happened next, but you did recall the shock from what he suggested to do. Something he wanted to try for a long time, he said. Next thing you knew, his head was between your thighs, while yours was thrown back in pleasure. He was laying down on the couch, lapping up at you from below. His sounds were muffled as you grinded down on his face, moaning shamelessly every time his nose bumped against your clit.

Whenever you praised him, he'd pull you harder against him until you were sure he couldn't breathe. Neither could you from the way he let you use him as you pleased.

That's why Vis found you the both of you fast asleep on the couch—completely spent and fucked out.

After that, Herm grew more expressive when it came to showing his needs.

In public, he didn't bother hiding his lingering stares when you were in the same room, and you pretended not to feel his gaze on you just to rile him up. He became touchier, always finding an excuse to rest his hand in your hip, waist, hand, and lower back. He didn't shy away from your cheek kisses, sometimes initiating it himself.

In private, on the other hand. . .

Oh, it was another story.

You were concerned you were corrupting as much as you were spoiling him, but maybe it was the same in his case.

Sometimes when he spent the night, you woke up the next morning with him pressed up behind you. You’d immediately become aware of the hard pressure against your lower back. You heard his voice, begging for you, face buried in the crook of your neck as his movements became more desperate. The second you heard him say please, you were pushing him back to your mattress and taking him there beneath you.

Much to your great amusement, Herm loved to be degraded as much as he loved to be praised.

You'd never forget that same morning when the words slipped, spilling out of your lips before you could stop yourself.

“Look at you, Herm. Humping me like a fucking dog? So early in the morning? Oh, you're so fucking desperate it's pathetic.”

You immediately stopped, realizing your words. The apology was there at the tip of your tongue when he frantically shook his head, and bucked his hips upwards. Tears streamed down his temples, silver-blue eyes half-lidded and pleading.

“No, please do– Don't stop. Please. I–I need more.”

Let's just say the two of you decided to skip work that day.

At least you two made a pretty decent breakfast.

Well, mostly Herm. He was adamant in just letting you sit there and look pretty while he cooked some eggs and pancakes. Another welcome surprise, even when his cooking process was a little (a lot) clumsy—you tried not to laugh when he slipped on himself more than once—the results were actually presentable and edible. He told you about how he’s always cooking for his grandma, as well as having responsibility for other chores in their house.

You'd eat together in the living room, watching the morning news with him sitting close by your side.

Vis made a comment about him being “your new roomie” and how she was rarely home now that he was constantly over. But you already talked about it beforehand, and she was more than supportive of your relationship. Sometimes, she'll even hang around with the both of you during movie night. Their bond surprisingly formed from their shared love of comics, cat pictures, and of course your cooking. It was oddly endearing in a way it reminded you of a weird sibling dynamic.

During mornings and evenings, you'd hear them in the living room constantly bickering.

“Hey, water hose. She was mine first. She's basically my wife.”

“Yeah, but– but she's my partner now. And she will be my– I mean, she will choose who she wants to, uh, marry.”

“We'll see about that.”

“Yeah, we’ll see!”

His presence in your life gradually became more constant, that it got to the point where he was forcefully included in another sleepover with the Phoenix girls. It didn't take long until he became one of the girls, often surrounded by Prism and Malevola during missions. Coupé, on the other hand, maintained her distance out of respect towards you.

It seemed like everything was going perfectly well. Your relationship was unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome.

Night has already fallen by the time you made your way back to the SDN office. The last slip of sunlight disappeared into the horizon a few hours ago, and along with it your energy. Today was another gruelling dispatch, even busier than usual, and all these back-to-back calls have been draining the blood out of you. Most of the calls weren't even necessary to be made, just random citizens in need of someone to do their extra work when the Torrance Police Department was too lazy to do so.

You were heroes in the making, not some charity service for civilians.

But then again, wasn't that the point of being in this program?

Thankfully, Robert decided to call it a night just before your body could give out. The others cheered in your earpieces, different voices merging together as all of you could finally go home. But before you do, you need to head back to the office first to get your things.

Rolling your shoulders, you glanced at Flambae walking beside you. “Up for some drinks later?”

A grin stretched across his features, the previous exhaustion plastered earlier quickly vanishing.

“Hell yeah,” He puffed out his chest, giving you a wink. “First rounds on you, shadow.”

You rolled your eyes, groaning lightly. “Okay, I'm taking that back. Go drink by yourself.”

“Hey! You suggested it. Means you buy the first round, it's the rules.”

“Who fucking made that up?”

“It's like, the common courtesy. Duh.”

“Right,” You chuckled, shaking your head at his theatrics. “Well, let's go ask the others if they're down.”

“No need to ask them,” Flambae waved his hand around. “As if those guys will turn down a good drink after all that shit. Seriously, a cold glass of beer will remove all these knots in my back. That reminds me. Know any good massage places here?”

You hummed, rummaging your mind for anything familiar. “Oh, yeah. I know this good spot just downtown–”

“Honey!”

Snapping your head up, your eyes met Herm's tall figure running towards you.

The previous thought was erased the moment you saw him, all the painful strains in your muscles melted away at the sight of his beaming smile. Seeing him every time always seemed to ease your nerves, removing every stress and exhaustion in an instant. He just had that kind of effect in the first place, but now it feels so different—like the kind of comfort you get when you come back home.

Oh, you were so far gone.

“Hey, baby.” You cooed, opening your arms to receive his hug.

Instead when he picked you up from the ground and spun you around, breaking you into a fit of laughter.

“That fucking hurts to look at,” Vis commented, coming up behind the two of you. “Everywhere I go, I'm always reminded I'm still single.”

Flambae scoffed, crossing his arms as he glared at the two of you. “Yeah, me too. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you bitches. But please, don't fucking rub it in.”

“Go rub it out yourself.” You flipped him off, still grinning as Herm set you down.

Herm’s hands never left your waist, giving you that charming smile that never failed to make your heart flutter.

“How are you? Had any trouble with– from anyone?”

You stroke his cheek, chucking at the dampness clinging to his skin. “No trouble at all. They didn't have a chance against me. I basically made Flambae my accessory while I fought off those guys.”

“Bitch, I fucking helped–”

“How about you?” You continued, pointedly ignoring him. “Vis gave you any trouble?”

Your roommate rolled her eyes, joining Flambae’s glaring session from the side. “Oh, haha. Just so you know, we fucking nailed that last one. You should've seen him fuck those guys up, one of them even wet himself because of Waterboy. And not the fun kind.”

Herm sputtered at her words, whipping around to blink incredulously at her. “Wha– Hey, don't mention that!”

“You should've seen him do this thing–”

“They don't have– need to know!”

“Why not? It was a killer move.”

“You weren't sa– supposed to see it!”

While the two continued to bicker, you and Flambae shared a look before pulling them both by their arms and walking towards the office. On the way there, the rest of the Z-team caught up on the four of you—equally battered and spent from their respective missions.

Flambae went straight towards Prism, complaining about you and Herm immediately, to which the popstar laughed at him. Vis made a beeline towards Golem, who had gotten her a donut out of the shop she liked. Coupé and Punch Up were the first ones to enter the building, while Malevola dragged a half-beaten Sonar inside. You and Herm hung at the back of the group, your arm looped around his and that adorable little blush present on his cheeks.

Robert was there to greet you all upon seeing him, while Chase and Beef emerged from their cubicle.

The former hero clapped, his monotone voice cutting through the noise. “Okay, everyone. Get your stuff out of here and go home. Good job for today. You deserve the day off tomorrow, but on Monday we get on it again. That's it, get the fuck out of here.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Eager to get rid of us? What if we wanted you to join us for drinks, Mr. Robertson?”

The rest of the team exclaimed their agreement, but Robert only sighed exasperatedly.

“As much as I wanna come with,” He raised his hands, before pointing at the bags underneath his eyes. “I'm gonna drop dead if I don't head home. God knows I need a break from all of you.”

Prism clicked her tongue. “Oh, you poor thang. I know what you need, pretty boy. You need to get laid! So come with us, and we might get your underfucked ass a score.”

Everyone snickered, while you caught Vis shifting on her feet from Prism's words.

You aimed a smirk at her direction, to which she silently mouthed shut the fuck up back at yours.

Chase stepped into the scene, setting Beef on the ground and placing both of his hands on his hips.

“Alright, you nasty fuckers. Y'all heard what the man said. Get your fucking asses out of here before we call Blazer.”

“No need for that man,” Sonar quipped from the side, still leaning against Malevola for support. “But yeah, we're dipping. See you ‘round, twink. Call us if you still want your ass to be fucked.”

While everyone laughed as they dispersed, you looked up at Herm and smirked at him.

“I know someone who's underfucked,” He blushed at your sultry tone, while you only winked at him. “You still have some stuff in the locker room?”

He nodded furiously, immediately picking up on your mood.

“Go get them. We can catch up later.”

“Uh, yeah– Yes, I'm gonna go get them. Get my stuff. And we could– We'll go! Go home and– Yeah, going now!”

Herm darted towards the locker rooms, muttering something unintelligible under his breath.

You smiled softly at his disappearing figure. Even after a month in the relationship, you still managed to make him stammer nervously. He's just so fucking cute, it makes you wanna eat him up or tie him down to a chair.

“You really have to do that in front of me?”

Blinking, you turned towards Robert, who wore a deadpanned expression on his face.

“Do what?” You feigned innocence, smiling at him. “We haven't done anything yet. Unless, you want us to. You're welcome to watch, boss.”

You didn't know what possessed you to say that, maybe it was the lingering adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Not that it was anything serious, only an inside joke you sometimes shared with him ever since he started reprimanding you of PDA in the office. Most of the time, Robert wouldn't hesitate to turn it down or dismiss it. However, something seemed different tonight. Because for the first time, he paused—and you didn't miss the way his gaze unfocused for a second.

Almost like he was imagining something right in front of him.

Robert shook his head, reverting back to his stoic look. “If I wanted to watch porn, I would've done it at home. Plus, I’d rather not be on the HR list. I've already been asked by Blazer to keep an eye on both of you if you decide to do anything like that here.”

Oh?

Humming, you crossed your arms and grinned at him. “Keep an eye out, huh? Isn't that the same thing as watching?”

For a moment, he studied you through narrowed eyes.

You weren't an idiot, and you were certainly not oblivious to the tension building up in the air. It was thick, charged with something unspoken, and you were certain he felt it too. You weren't about to try anything, however. Knowing Vis still liked him and you were in a relationship, you can't cross any boundaries you shouldn't. Until his eyes dropped, doing a slow sweep over your frame until he reached your eyes again.

In a lower voice, he spoke.

“I guess it is.”

Oh.

Something definitely felt different tonight, and something told you the night was only just beginning.

Turning around, you tossed him a sly smirk over your shoulder.

“If you're still interested, you know where to find us.”

In the next second, you melted into the shadows and left smoke in your wake.

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You know you said you wouldn't be doing anything like this in the office again.

But at least it wasn't in an office.

Technically.

The men’s locker rooms were empty when you found Herm, and he looked like he was about to finish up grabbing his things. Just when he was about to turn around, but you were already there behind him with your hand pressing on his chest.

You smiled at him, leaning up on your toes to place a kiss on his lips. “Hey, baby. Got your stuff?”

“Oh! He– Hey, honey.” He smiled, melting against your touch. “Yeah, got them here– all here! Are we gonna go home now?”

Trailing your lips up to his jaw, you whispered low low in ear. “No, I have a better idea.”

He blinked, peering down at you in confusion.

“What is it–”

You silenced him with another kiss, pinning him back against his locker.

Home can wait. Right now, you need him.

“Oh,” Herm gasped in realization, dazed and stunned after you parted for air. “I thought we were– At home, but– Now? Here?”

You began unzipping his collar, aiming a long kiss on his throat. “Why not? Unless you prefer somewhere more. . . private? The office? The bathroom? Or that storage room you've been telling me about the other day?”

Herm sighed shakily, momentarily losing focus the more your kisses trailed down. It didn't take long for him to get so affected. His pulse thrummed wildly beneath your lips. His breathing grew heavier and faster. His hands clutched your hips, flexing weakly but never pushing you away. Still, you kept your pace slow, in case he changed his mind and decided to move somewhere else.

When he didn't take any action to stop you, a pleased hum escaped you and you smiled against his skin.

“Good boy.”

The zipper stopped at his chest, your hand slipping inside his wetsuit to feel his heart racing erratically.

“I'm still surprised you're into this,” You kissed him again, tugging on his bottom lip. “I really thought you'd turn down the first time, and especially now. You really want this badly, baby?”

He didn't give you any answer.

Instead, he surprised you again by hooking his hands underneath your thighs and hoisting you up to his waist. With a surprising display of hidden strength, he carried you towards somewhere while his mouth returned to yours. The kiss, like the first one you shared with him a month ago, was clumsy due to him walking across the locker rooms. It was endearing in a way that filled you with brief nostalgia and warmth, kissing him deeper and sighing against his lips.

Finally, Herm sat himself down on a nearby bench far from the entrance. Safely hidden out of sight by the rows of lockers, in case anyone passed by or entered the room.

“Is this– Are you okay?” His voice trembled, but his hands were steady as he adjusted you properly on his lap. “You don't want to go home yet? You really want to– I mean, I don't mind but– What if someone sees?”

You responded with another kiss, cupping his face gently as your hips began to roll. As expected, he produced a low whimper and rolled his hips back. He guided your movements over his strained bulge, moaning softly into each other's mouths. The kiss shifted deeper, harder, hungrier. You slipped his goggles from his head while he kissed his way down your neck.

“Fuck,” You tossed your head back, granting him more access. “That’s it, baby. Keep going.”

Herm whined against your skin, making a frantic move to remove your top.

You helped him by raising your arms up, only left with your bra underneath, before he was back to kissing and marking your skin. After becoming more intimate with him, you soon found out he particularly had a fixation on your chest the most. You should've known he'd be a boob kind of guy, not that you were complaining.

He was about to unclasp your bra, when someone spoke from behind.

“Am I interrupting something?”

You both tensed, especially Herm who quickly wrapped his arms around you to conceal your bare upper body.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you met gazes with none other than Robert Robertson the third.

Herm gulped, straightening up. “S-Sir– I mean, Boss. Uh, Robert! This isn't– It's not what it looks like. Uh, we were just– I was helping her change?”

“Uh huh,” Your dispatcher looked and sounded unconvinced. “Changing on your lap? In the men's locker room? After everyone went home? You really expect me to believe that?”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you fixed him with a teasing smile. “You know when I suggested if you wanted to watch, I didn't expect you to follow through. Thought you went home with the others. Had a change of heart?”

At your words, Herm's chest paused and his arms loosened every so slightly around your body.

“You told him to wait– Watch us? Why?”

“I was joking with him earlier, but it looks like he took it seriously.”

“Oh, that's. . . I didn't expect that.”

“I didn't expect the both of you to be acting like this,” Robert cut in, letting out a long sigh. “So, I take it you're the reasons why Blonde Blazer made that HR meeting after someone reported the incident in one of the offices.”

Shrugging, you gave him a wry smirk. “Guilty as charged.”

Still unimpressed, Robert continued. “This isn't exactly the kind of catching up I'd expect to see, but I'm not exactly surprised. Do you two have any idea–”

“It– It was my fault, sir!” Herm interrupted, hugging you closer to him. “I was the one who– I initiated it. She came here for me. To get me. And I kissed her, and we got here, then we– Then, you found us like this.”

“You didn't,” You hushed him softly, patting his cheek as you turned to look at him. “Robert was well aware I did it. But now that he's here, that makes me more curious. Are you only doing this bit to actually lecture us or are you here for something else?”

You directed the question to the man standing behind you, peering over to his direction again.

No response.

The two of you entered a staring contest, silently challenging the other to either back down or do something. The tension from earlier resurfaced, intangible but even more electric than before.

“Well, boss? You gonna leave or watch?”

“Those are my only options?”

“What other option is there?”

“Report you, for one.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “If you wanted to report us, you would've left immediately after you saw us. But you're still here. Why's that?”

That gave Robert a pause, and you felt a trembling breath against your cheek.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Herm’s voice lowered into a cautious whisper. “We could get into trouble– Major trouble. And I don't want you to get into trouble.”

His tone melted your defenses, and for a moment, you considered backing down before you actually got in trouble. You’ve already dug your grave the moment you suggested this to Robert, and now the choice was yours whether to dig the shovel deeper or climb out of the ditch in defeat. Not to mention that Herm would take the blame even more for your sake. Sweet, lovable, and selfless Herm.

With a resigned sigh, you kissed his cheek before addressing Robert.

“Fine, we’ll get out of your hair–”

“Not so fast.”

“Huh?”

The dispatcher took slow, daunting steps towards you, something flickered through the cracks of his neutral indifference. “Now, you want to leave? You’re not gonna finish what you started?”

Herm glanced between the two of you, his hold tightening protectively as Robert neared his approach. “Uh, we could finish it elsewhere– Someplace else. We’re sorry for the trouble– inconvenience, sir. Robert. It won’t happen again!”

“Sure it won’t,” Robert hummed, still unconvinced. “I’ll make sure this is the last time.”

He stopped just right beside you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

“So, go on. Finish what you started. Make the last time worthwhile.”

You heard the challenge in his tone, saw the daring glint in his eyes, and smirked. He wanted a show? Fine, you'll give him something to remember in his apartment.

You turned your attention back to Herm, kissing the line of his throat, but your gaze remained on Robert.

“You can watch, boss. But no touching.”

He shrugged. “Fine by me.”

Meanwhile, Herm released a shuddering breath as his eyes flicked towards his direction. “You– You're not gonna report us, Rob– Sir?”

“Not if I like what I see.”

“O-Oh, then I'm sure– I hope you will!”

“We'll see about that.”

You felt his arms slip down to your waist again, still holding you close against him. Busying yourself with leaving marks on his neck, kissing every little mole you've grown to love, and licking the skin just above his pulse—causing it to spike and quicken erratically. At the same time, your hips began to move again. Rolling against his hard bulge, moaning into his skin at the sensation of him throbbing underneath you.

Herm gasped, his attention back on you instantly. His hips bucked upwards, biting on his bottom lip to muffle his sounds. You felt his throat bob against your mouth, the way he gasped aloud when you grinded harder on him, and the strangled vibrations from his throat as he groaned lightly.

But that wasn't the only thing you felt.

Robert's gaze bore into you from the side, growing heavy and dark each second that passed.

A rush of heat surged through you, licking its way up your spine like wildfire. You never thought having someone else watch could be this thrilling. The thought of them just looking, never allowing contact, excited you in a way that fueled your body. And you weren't the only one, it seemed. You didn't fail to notice how Herm's eyes occasionally fluttered open to glance at Robert's direction, his cheeks deepening in color whenever they locked gazes.

Oh, you knew your little lover's secret.

You were well-aware of his previous crush on the dispatcher, it's why you were curious how he'd react to your suggestion. It wasn't that subtle how Herm followed Robert around back then, and everyone knew it. You should know. Before you, he tailed the former hero and stuck to his side the most when he was still the janitor. And it's why he constantly avoided you too, using Robert as a means to escape you.

That gave you an idea.

“Isn't Herm so perfect, sir?” You cast a mischievous look at his direction. “You should see how well he takes it. Doesn't even complain about what I do to him. He's such a good boy.”

On cue, Herm lets out a keening whine.

Robert hummed, appraising Herm through a half-lidded stare. “I suppose he is. You always the one in charge?”

Nodding, you unclasped your bra from behind. “I am, and he doesn't mind it.”

The moment your bra was removed and dropped to the floor, Herm didn't waste a second before one of his hands was on your breast and his mouth was on the other. He moaned into you, sucking on your skin and nipple. The sensation pooled warmth in your stomach, sighing wistfully into the air as your fingers threaded across his damp strands.

“Let's change that,” Robert drawled, causing you to look at him in confusion. “Waterboy, stop what you're doing.”

Immediately, Herm froze in his place and retreated away from you. “Sir?”

A pleased hum emitted from the dispatcher, russet hued irises sweeping down your body. “From now on, you both obey me. I'm going to teach you how to make her finish. Learn how to take the reins every once in a while. Is that clear?”

You blinked in surprise, while Herm gulped and nodded frantically.

“Ye–Yes, sir!”

“Good. Night, get up.”

Amused by his domineering energy, you quietly followed his command by slipping out of Herm's lap and standing right in front of him. He didn't know which to focus on, your exposed chest or Robert's steel gaze, shifting his attention back and forth. His hands paused in mid-air, trembling slightly, but he made no move to touch you without Robert's order.

“You know what to do,” The dispatcher nodded at your pants, staring up at you through those long lashes. “All of it. When you're done, go back on his lap. And don't move.”

Fuck.

Filled with excitement, you unbuttoned your pants and made a show of bending over to remove it. You even included your underwear for extra measure, slipping the piece down your legs and holding it up by your finger once it was off.

You flung the article at Robert, who caught the piece in one hand.

Winking at him, you straddled Herm’s lap again. “A little souvenir for later.”

He didn't look anywhere but you as he pocketed it in his pants. “Thanks. I'll be sure to put it to good use.”

Now completely bare, you shivered against the cool air. “So, now what?”

For a moment, silence hangs between the spaces. The kind of silence you can hear somehow. The kind that clung to your skin like honey, thick and heavy, and stuck at the back of your throat. Robert didn't even hide the way he stared at your body, making sure you saw how his eyes lingered on every skin. On every visible mark, on every faded scar, on each unhealed bruises scattered along your chest and thighs—something that definitely did not come from any battles but from bed.

Then—

“Waterboy, take off your gloves.”

Herm jolted upright, nodding vigorously. “Yes, sir!”

He did a quick work of removing them, dropping the soaked items on the floor, before he looked at Robert. He didn’t have to wait very long, because Robert nodded and proceeded with the next command.

“You know how to please her?” Herm nodded again, to which the dispatcher looked satisfied by. “Good. How do you do it?”

The blush on Herm’s cheeks reached his ears, and you fought off the giggle at the sight. Oh, you know how he does it. Because most of the time, he didn't do anything but please. Lets you use him however you like, praise him enough to build confidence and take more, but never enough to steal the control out of your grasp. You supposed it was just his nature to be the submissive one, but you also didn't mind changing the dynamics.

And Robert planned to exploit that.

The retired hero repeated the question again, causing Herm to flinch. “Uh, we– No, I just let her teach me how. And I'll. . . I'll just follow, sir.”

Robert clicked his tongue, seeming disappointed by that. “Alright, first lesson. How to use your fingers. You have long ones, they're the perfect tools you can use in order to control her pleasure. Start by touching her, anywhere you want, except down there. Understand?”

Herm gulped, nodded once, and you grinned when the first part he touched were your breasts.

“Now, touch her. Slowly. Study which areas she's most sensitive. Remember them.”

Those hands, damp from sweat or water, began caressing your skin gently.

You relaxed into his touch, arching closer for a wordless encouragement. He took it as a sign to continue, his previous nerves melting away as his touch grew from experimental to explorative. Not that he needed that anymore, but every time he touched your body—it was like the first time all over again. Always with a kind of tenderness that made you smile, but with a type of greed that caused you to gasp.

Right now, you simply basked in the lulling sensation from his palms.

“Good,” You forgot Robert's presence there for a second, almost startling in surprise at the sound of his gravelly voice. “One hand on her neck, feel her pulse under her skin. When your hand moves, your mouth follows. Understand?”

Herm nodded, his gaze still fixed on you. “Yes, sir.”

His right hand left your skin, and the other remained on your neck. A swipe of his thumb brushed the spot where your pulse raced. A featherlight kiss pressing on the same area, as soft as the whisper murmured into your skin. You're so beautiful. He didn't stop there, everywhere his hand touched, his lips were there to follow with a kiss. On your throat, along your collarbones, your shoulder, up underneath your ear, tracing a path to your jaw, before finding your lips like home.

Herm stole the shuddering air from your mouth when he covered it with his, molding himself into you. Unlike your previous acts, this version of him didn't surrender. He leads. Through the way he kissed you, pushing deeper in every tilt of his head and breath you exhaled. The way he led the kiss contrasted yours—soft yet firm, like he was guiding you to learn instead of controlling how.

The heat on your skin simmered in gentle embers, never overwhelming but still consuming.

His hand travelled down to your neck again, and his kiss tracked the same path it took. The sigh you released dulled into a low hum of his name, light and airy, and Herm moaned into your skin.

From the side, you heard a similar sound escape from Robert.

Lower. Heavier. Darker.

Opening your eyes, you asked. “Permission to move, sir?”

You wanted to glance over to look at his state, was he affected by your show or did he still have that same impassive look from earlier? The temptation almost won, until Herm bit on the junction between your neck and shoulder, causing your eyes to snap shut and moan quietly.

You heard a shuffle and a sharp curse, but still you didn't dare to look.

“Permission granted.”

Did he sound more strained than usual?

Must be your imagination.

Not thinking much of it, you took that permission and began on your earlier motion. Your bare center dragged across his wetsuit, whether from your own arousal or his power, the friction became relatively easier to move along his hardened length. Both of you gasped in unison, Herm whimpering against your shoulder and you were cursing brokenly into the air.

“She's growing needier,” It was as if Robert's voice was directly next to your ear, carrying another kind of heat that scorched instead of melted. “Take your other hand, and put it on her thigh. Go up until you reach her inner thigh. Don't touch her there yet, she needs to work for it.”

Herm peered down at your open thighs, breathing a little faster now. “Work for it? Sir?”

Oh, this was getting interesting.

Robert hummed, you could feel him staring at you this time. “Yes, she needs to earn the right to come. Don't you think so too, Night?”

“Of course I do–”

“Manners.”

“Yes, I do. . . sir.”

“Good girl.”

Fuck. Your core clenched around nothing, flushing at the praise. Okay, I get it now, Vis. Come get your man before we take him for ourselves.

Without another word, you felt Herm's hand glide across your thigh. Your movements didn't cease, still moving back and forth against him while he went back to laying kisses on your skin.

The moment stretched on for a little longer. Rocking against each other, both of your hands wandering, and moaning into each other's mouths. Following Robert's words, Herm kneaded and caressed your thighs in a slow, tantalizing manner. It drove you crazy how high he'll go—teasing the inside of your thighs, a finger almost grazing the area where you needed him the most—only to pull back and start again.

You were almost tempted to stop moving out of spite just so he could give you what you want. But then you remembered Robert standing there, his words ringing in your ears.

“She needs to earn the right to come.”

Oh.

He wanted you to beg?

Fine, you could do that. For now.

Gasping, you let your eyes flutter open and glance his way.

“Please,” You almost smirked in triumph at his sharp inhale, the way his pupils dilated and darkened. “Please, let him touch me. Please, Robert.”

The dispatcher fixed you a stern glare, trying to display dominance, but you could see the flicker of hesitation there. Good, it means you have a chance of cracking him. Just keep up with the act, make him believe he has the control here. He might believe that illusion, but if you played his cards right, you might be able to play your own right under his nose.

And so, you played the part.

Be helpless and desperate.

You gasped their names, pleading for them, and rocked yourself a little faster on Herm. Every time you felt him throb against you, you’d let out that little high-pitch whine. Every time his hand ventured too close to your folds, you’d sob and cling your arms around his neck. And with each mark your partner left on your skin, you’d repeat that word. That one word that can cause you more trouble or get you want you want.

Please.

Both men struggled to maintain their own composure in check. Ragged breathing, wild dark gazes, and tension so thick you almost suffocated. It was the first time for both men to see and hear you in this way. Herm has never seen you this pliant before, always the one in charge. While Robert never saw you in this light—writhing for pleasure, begging for more, skin bare and flushed underneath pale fluorescent lights. A stark contrast to the coy attitude you give him during missions, now gone in place for a role you weren’t familiar with.

But it seemed to be working in your favour.

Herm was struggling to ignore you now, his hands constantly flexed and paused on your thighs each time you whimpered louder. The way he shifted his gaze towards Robert, pleading for him too silently. To do something, to do anything.

“Please,” Your sob broke out in a quiet plea. “Please, Herm. Robert. I can’t– Please, touch me. I’ll be good.”

It was Herm who cracked first, grasping your hips tighter to stop his hands from slipping lower. “Oh, you are. You’re so– doing so good, honey. Ri–Right, sir?”

Robert exhaled, shakier than normal, his voice as dark as the morning coffee he always drank. “Maybe she is. Or maybe she’s just acting. Do you really want to be touched, sweetheart?”

Nodding furiously, you stared up at him through teary-eyed and half-lidded lashes. “Yes, sir. I want to. Please, sir.”

“You promise to be good?”

“I do. I am.”

“That so?”

“Yes. I promise. Just please, sir.”

Robert watched you for a moment, a muscle in his jaw flexing. He almost tore through the sleeves of his shirt with how hard he’s been clawing his biceps. His eyes lingered on you, on your body, and the slick mess you’ve made on Herm’s lap.

His silence unnerved you, causing your movements to halt and wait for his next one.

Then—

“Touch her.”

“Sir?”

“You can touch her.”

“Ho–How do I–”

“Use your fingers,” Robert raised his own, curving his middle finger. “Slip it between her legs. Feel how soaked she is. That's your second lesson.”

Herm did just that, a little too eagerly. The shuddering gasp he produced drowned yours the moment his long finger slid between your folds, tracing a path from your entrance up to your clit.

Cursing, you ground yourself on his hand. “Fuck, yes. Please. More.”

“You heard her,” Robert murmured, adjusting his pants discreetly. “I trust you know where the clit is?”

Herm made a frazzled noise. “I do– I know where it is. She showed me where–”

“Run your finger around that spot. Gently with your thumb.” His voice dropped an octave—velvet, deep, and alluring—the kind of tune that could elicit the most dangerous crimes known to man just by his words alone.

Robert did have a power.

And that was his fucking voice.

If he asked you to kill someone, you don't think you'd hesitate. With that fucking voice, you'd do anything he'd ask in a heartbeat. And it seemed like that was the same case for Herm. The poor man can barely hold his own sanity. The blush on his cheeks never left, blooming brighter each time words slipped out of Robert's mouth—like silk strips of sin and salvation.

“Now take your middle and ring finger,” The dispatcher sounded closer, like he was peering over your shoulder to watch, or maybe he really was. “And slide it into her.”

Fuck.

The moment his long fingers breached past your entrance, the three of you sighed. It never felt like this before, even by your own hand. Admittedly, this was the first time Herm pleasured you in this way. Now, you were regretting holding off of this for so long. Somehow, with someone else guiding the moment, everything flowed smoothly. As smooth as Herm's fingers entering you deeper, the faint slick sounds could rival an explosion with how loud it was in the locker room.

Tossing your head back, your eyes flew open at the unexpected surface behind you.

You were right.

Robert was closer. Just directly behind you, knelt on one knee, using his shoulder to rest your head, chest pressed to your back.

And you didn't even hear him move.

His breath was just next to your ear, rough and ragged, provoking goosebumps on your skin as he spoke again.

“There you go,” His chest rumbled from his dark chuckle, vibrating against your back. “Do it nice and slow. When you pull out, curl them up. Don't stop your thumb. Keep a steady rhythm.”

“Yes, sir.” Herm physically didn't know where to look.

Your flushed face, his fingers disappearing inside you, or to Robert, who was watching everything with a darkening gaze. Your lover kept his pace steady, now curling his fingers out, before sliding them back just to repeat the action. This was a fucking dream. It honestly felt like one. You honestly can't believe this was happening, this was not how you expected your night to go—but complaining was the last thing on your mind right now.

You writhed on Herm's lap, grinding back into his fingers. “Fuck. Fuck. Don't stop. Please.”

Your plan was quickly deteriorating, and you found yourself surrendering to the both of them. Behind you, Robert's chest vibrated again from another deep hum. No doubt sensing your compliance. In front of you, Herm trembled in anticipation, watching you turn your head and muffle your sounds at the dispatcher’s collar.

His fingers sped up, arching up inside, making sure to scrape his fingertips against the upper walls. The thumb on your clit swirled in a way that made your mind go blank.

Lips, dry and chapped, teased the shell of your ear.

With a hoarse rasp, he spoke.

“Permission to touch you?”

You nodded, squirming even more. “Yes, please.”

In an instant, another set of hands met your waist. Rough, calloused, filled with scars that told stories. Those palms wandered over your stomach, before ascending to your breasts and massaging the flesh gently.

Robert’s voice rang again underneath your ear—strained, barely controlled, and laced with a thinly veiled desperation.

“Permission to kiss you?”

Shit.

“Yes,” Your mouth fell open, gasping at the tantalizing glide of his lips down your neck. “Oh, fuck.”

On one shoulder, Robert busied himself tasting your skin. Licking your neck, murmuring quiet praises, inhaling your scent. And on the other side, Herm copied the same treatment. Compared to Robert's curious mouth, he danced around your skin with familiarity. He knew which area made your breath hitch, how hard he should bite to get you to clench around him, and how hard he should suck to have you coming faster.

The two were polar opposites—rough and soft, coarse and smooth—but somehow they blended perfectly together.

Their lips travelled along your shoulders, then to your throat, until their lips finally met and you smiled victoriously.

Herm whimpered into his lips, and Robert grunted in return.

One of his hands let go your breast to cradle Herm's cheek, to which urged your boyfriend to melt and whine into the kiss. Meanwhile, his pace never faltered inside you. Curling out, sliding back in, repeating the process until the warmth in your lower belly sparked into a hot coil.

“Ah, shit.”

You leaned forward, burying your face into Herm's neck. His pulse was running wild against your cheek, and you kissed the mole below his jaw just to feel it stutter.

The coil tightened. The blood in your veins coursed with molten heat. Every sound they made, every strained curse from Robert and hushed whine from Herm. It only fueled the coil inside you, bringing you closer to the edge of pleasure.

“You're close, aren't you?” You almost missed Robert's question, spoken near your ear again in that low rumble. “Fuck, look at you. Must be so soaked and tight by now.”

“She is,” Herm added softly, gazing down at you in both awe and desire. “She's so tight. Feels tighter now. Don't worry, honey. I–I got you.”

You surged forward, capturing his mouth in a desperate kiss. “Herm, fuck. So close. Don't stop.”

A stubbled chin grazed your nape. “You heard her. Don't you fucking stop.”

“Yes, sir.”

Robert began kissing your nape. Hands returning to your breasts. A hot tongue licking its way down between your shoulder blades.

Everything felt too much, yet not enough at the same time. You wanted more, but you feel like you were about to shatter any second now. If you continued this further, someone was bound to discover the three of you. It was a miracle no one has stumbled on the scene this late into the night. Not even by the rest of the janitors. Or maybe one already did and fled the room quickly.

You wouldn't even be surprised if Vis was here, hiding in the shadows.

Herm stopped curling his fingers, removed his thumb, and started fucking you in long, deep strokes.

The sudden change jolted your body, but Robert held you down to force you to take it.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

“That's not our names, sweetheart.”

“Hermy– Oh, fuck. Robert.”

“That's it. Just our names. Focus on us.”

While Robert talked you through the heightening climax, Herm covered your mouth with his when your volume started to increase. The pressure kept on building, and you started fucking yourself back to his fingers.

“You're doing so– Oh, so good, honey.”

“Let go, sweetheart.”

When you heard them whisper your name in tandem, the coil snapped and heat exploded behind your closed eyelids. Your body arched between theirs, convulsing in breathless tremors. There was ringing in your ears, deafening everything around you into a white noise. When you finally came to, all you could hear was the sounds of heavy breathing, the slickness from your folds as Herm unsheathed his fingers, and the soft curse from Robert beside your head.

You opened your eyes just in time to see the latter grasping the former’s hand by his wrist, his tongue sliding in between lithe fingers—groaning at the taste of your release and lapping the remaining spend dripping from Herm's knuckles.

The latter parted, sighing wistfully. “Sorry, couldn't help myself. You taste good, though.”

You snickered, while Herm nodded fervently in agreement. “She does! That's why I like– I also enjoy it when she lets me–”

“Don't tell him that,” You pushed his face away, giggling tiredly as the exhaustion crept up your body. “Okay, that was a wild ride boys. Same time next week?”

Robert rolled his eyes, and Herm sputtered in bewilderment.

The former hero patted your hip lightly.

“Go clean up and head home,” He directed a pointed look at Herm, his tone hardening. “I mean it now.”

The water hero saluted, breaking into a cooked grin. “Yes, sir!”

Before Robert left the two of you alone, you heard him advise again.

"Lesson three. What happens in the locker room, stays in the locker room."

Several minutes later, you cleaned up in the shower rooms and dressed yourself in borrowed clothes from Herm’s locker. The loose cashmere sweater felt heavenly on your skin, hanging off of one shoulder and almost dwarfing your upper body if it didn't stop at your thighs.

While waiting for your boyfriend, you scrolled mindlessly on your phone to pass the time.

A notification dropped from the edge of your screen, and you clicked on it as soon as you saw Vis’ contact name.

From Invisi(bitch)baby

– you greedy bitch

You raised an eyebrow at the following middle finger, then grinned in realization. So, your intuition was correct. She was there earlier. Mostly watching the whole show from start to finish. You knew those footsteps you distinctly heard while you came undone weren't your imagination.

To Invisi(bitch)baby

– well hello to you too

– now what's up?

From Invisi(bitch)baby

– Had fun in there?

– You could've at least invited me

– No fair

– >:((

You were about to type in your next reply, when Herm appeared at the end of the hallway.

He ran towards you, wearing that adorable smile, then pressed a kiss on your cheek. “Ready to go, hon?”

Nodding, you slipped your fingers between his and smiled back. “All set. Let's get home. For real this time.”

The two of you exited the building together, as if nothing had happened in the locker room. Robert had gone home himself, carrying Beef and giving the two of you a casual nod before he left. As you two walked together, you sent another message to your roommate before you pocketed your phone.

To Invisi(bitch)baby

– u're welcome to join next time ;))

[keiosity]

Definitely an HR Violation | Waterboy (Dispatch)

Read part two here

CROSS-POSTED FROM AO3

WC: 10K

SUMMARY: A casual sleepover with the Phoenix girls ends up with you confessing your long hidden attraction to the local sweetheart, Waterboy. The following week, Blonde Blazer throws an office party for a month of successful dispatch.

Will you take that opportunity to finally make a move? Or will you make him chase after you?"

CONTENT: Alcohol consumption, Dom/sub undertones, Office sex, Shameless smut, Sexual inexperience, Orgasm edging, Office party, Service submission, Reader-insert has powers, Dominant Reader-insert, Teasing, Sleepovers

RATING: EXPLICIT

VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

────────────── ★ ───────────────

The Phoenix girls were out for drinks.

Well, not exactly out. The five of you lounged in your shared apartment with Courtney, or everyone knew as Inivisigal, wearing your most comfortable pajamas while snacking on junk food and bottles of cold cider.

The plan had been set from last week from a clean streak of dispatch work. Your Dispatcher, Robert Robertson, finally managed to get a hang of his gig and was able to efficiently guide your calls without any struggles. Although there were still mishaps here and there, a little brawl between the guys over their lack of synergy and one too many close calls, Z-team still came out unscathed and successful.

Now, the boys were out on their own thing. Most likely bar hopping in all villain spots on all sides of Torrance. You have no doubt in mind they dragged Robert into their shenanigans, and if they can manage to get him wasted by the end of the night, you owe them a lot of money.

Meanwhile, the girls were here in your apartment.

It's funny to think that all of you, former villains, gathered here today for a casual sleepover. The last sleepover you had was like—What? Ten years ago when you were in middle school.

It didn't take long for you to convince Visi to have them come here and spend the night. You figured, why not? It could be fun to be the host of this sleepover. Plus, the girls all brought their own food and drinks to share.

Malevola brought the cold ciders, opening a portal while carrying two trays. Her pajamas consisted of her usual tank top, and loose flannel pajama pants—comfy, yet efficient.

Prism brought all sorts of snacks, ranging from cheese crackers, twinkies, and spicy chips. You didn't ask where she got those, but you knew damn well a vending machine from the office would be mysteriously empty the next time you clock in.

And Coupé brought board games. Three to be exact, much to everyone's surprise. Not only was she a book enthusiast, you discovered she was fond of collecting board games as well.

After three hours of chaos, cheating, competitiveness, all three games were played and now you five were on the exciting part of the sleepover.

Gossip. Tea. Juice. Beef.

You name it.

SDN never ran out of it.

If your program was a mess, you were surprised to find out the others were just as crazy as your group. If not, way more hectic. Those guys were just better at hiding their drama than all of you.

The talk continued for another hour, until the topic gradually shifted into something else.

“Alright!” Prism raised her bottle to the air, sitting on the floor in her black tank and pink shorts. “It’s time for the juiciest part. Ladies, villainesses, hot bad bitches in the house! It's time for the mandatory game of fuck, marry, kill. Phoenix Program edition!”

Malevola sat up instantly. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Coupé hummed, her silky black pajama set gleaming against the lamplight. “Very well, I'd say kill for almost all of you. But I'm kinda tipsy, so we'll see if I changed my mind.”

You chuckled, elbowing Vis beside you on the couch. “You're so gonna get exposed, Vis.”

The dark-haired woman narrowed her eyes at you. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Taking a sip of your cider, you tossed her a knowing wink. “Sure you don't.”

Coupé looked at you. “Night, be a dear and pass me those cookies.”

Smiling, you tossed her the pack of cookies laying beside you. “Catch.”

Your villain name, Midnight, was a lazy attempt to sound cool and edgy because of your powers. Being able to blend in and disappear into shadows gives you an advantage of infiltrating the most secured hideouts, banks, and buildings. In the shadows, you were undetected. Not only that, controlling someone else's shadow was the fun part of it—sort of manipulating them like a puppeteer forcing their puppet to dance.

Or in your case, do unspeakable things.

Prism stood up, resting a hand on her hip.

“Rules are simple. Wanna fuck ‘em? Jerk the bottle. Marry? Raise those bitches! Kill ‘em off? Take a sip. Clear, ladies?”

“Crystal,” You smiled at her. “Who's up first?”

“First contender!” Prism snapped her finger, grinning widely. “He's hot. He's fiery. All flames and skin-tight V-neck glory. Flambae!”

Immediately, you took a small swig from your bottle. “Hard pass. Bastard still owes me ten bucks to this day. And he burned my sandwich.”

Beside you, Vis copied your action. “I bet he doesn't even know where or what a clit is, but insists he does. Anyone else have a feeling he's gay?”

On the floor, Malevola shrugged and shamelessly jerked the bottle. “Eh, what if he is? But you'd have to give me at least ten shots before I tap that ass.”

Coupé stayed silent for a while, then took a slow sip of her cider. “Too intense. I'm worried he'd accidentally burn me during sex.”

Unsurprisingly, Prism jerked her bottle. Then, with a wave of her hand, she simpered.

“Ain't that the fun part, girl? Who doesn't want a little heat in the climax? I know I do!”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at your roommate. “You ever experienced that before? Go ghost when you're about to come?”

She blinked at you, her eyes widening in realization, before punching your arm.

“Fucking shut up, Night.”

“I'll take that as a yes.”

“You're a fucking bitch.”

“You love me.”

Prism opened her arm to the side in a dramatic flourish. “Second contender! Half genius, half pervert. All batty freak. Sonar!”

Malevola snorted, jerking her bottle again. “Been there, done that.”

Coupé, to your surprise, did the same motion hesitantly. “His disposition makes me curious.”

Prism shook her head, sipping her cider. “I'mma have to pass that. No judgement to you though, ladies!”

You laughed, already done with your sip. “Same here. But really, do you think he squeaks when he's close?”

Another snort escaped from Malevola, her golden scleras glinting. “He definitely does.”

Laughing, you slapped the couch repeatedly. “I fucking knew it!”

Your roommate groaned, another swig was down her throat. “Hey, I'm a freak. But not that much. Kinda scares me he'll turn batshit crazy in the middle of fucking. Hah, get it?”

“But that makes it all more exciting,” The demon countered, shivering in delight. “Plus, it was just a one time thing. He helped me realize I liked women more after that.”

The rest of the round went by in a blur.

Punch Up: Coupé jerked her bottle, the rest of you took a sip. He was sort of like an uncle of the group, and you cannot see him in any other way.

Golem: All bottles raised. The guy was a sweetheart, very marriage material.

Robert: All of you took a sip, but you did give Vis a side glance when she silently (and slowly) took a suspicious sip of her cider—to which she glared at you to keep quiet.

Prism even included all of you, and you were surprised when they all jerked their bottle once your name was mentioned. The scene made you double over in laughter, while Vis pretended to take a sip before raising it into the air.

“Aw, you'd marry me?” You batted your lashes at her.

She gave you an unimpressed look, though there was a ghost of a smile on her lips. “You cook better than me. You'd be the perfect trophy wife.”

“Okay, fuck you.”

All of you laughed, before Prism took the floor again.

“For the final contender,” Her voice lowered, holding her bottle as if it were a mic. “He's new. He's nervous. But most importantly, he's wet. Our very own walking bidet. Waterboy!”

Oh, fuck.

Silence filled the room.

Not even a snort from Malevola, or a hum from Coupé. Meanwhile, you raised an eyebrow at all of them when they proceeded to drink in unison.

Your jaw dropped, bewildered. “Aw, what? He's cute, though. None of you are interested?”

Both Malevola and Coupé shrugged, while Vis and Prism grimaced.

“Well, he's cute.” The latter coughed, sounding completely otherwise. “Except for the fact he pukes the same water he cleans our office with. Yeah, hard pass.”

Pouting, you leaned back on the couch. “I think that's charming. Seriously? You don't think he's adorable?”

Coupé shot you a look of suspicion and curiosity. “Do you have opposing beliefs, then?”

Vis snickered, rolling her eyes. “Oh, you don't know? Night wants to fuck him.”

Gasps resounded from the three women, who all snapped their heads to look at you in question.

Well, there goes my secret. So much for not revealing anything, Vis.

Sighing, you held up your hands. “Guilty as charged. You know what they say about the tall, skinny ones? Yeah, I'm willing to bet he's one of those who's secretly has a–”

“Okay, pause.” Prism shook her hands around, before she pointed at you with her bottle. “You?”

“Me.”

“Would fuck him?”

“Yes.”

“Waterboy? The former janitor? The guy who squirts water from his mouth? That guy?”

“Yes,” You groaned, half in frustration and half in amusement. “I would. No hesitation. No shots. Just me, him, in my bed. Or his. Okay, maybe not his. He lives with his grandma. Not planning to traumatize the old woman.”

Then, the three of them turned to your roommate for more answers.

Vis sighed, very much exasperated being a victim of your hopeless crush. “Hey, I have no fucking clue too. As far as I know, Night likes someone she can order around and likes it back. I already kink shamed her on that.”

You clutched your chest, feigning hurt. “Hey, I didn't shame you when you had that dream with–”

She quickly slapped a hand on your mouth, muffling your voice as you tried to free yourself.

Malevola produced a low whistle, seeming impressed and disturbed at the same time. “Well, to each their own. Have you fucked him yet?”

Finally tearing yourself from her hold, you leaned your head back against the couch.

“Nope.”

“Are you planning to?”

“Yup.”

“When?”

“Dunno. Haven't found the right time yet.”

Prism huffed out a laugh, her dark teal shades catching the light as she appraised you.

“Oh, girl. You can do that whenever you want. You're one hot bitch! Seriously, I heard the others talkin’ ‘bout you and that ass. Saw them lookin’ too. Waterboy will fold if you come up to him with that thang shakin’.”

“But that's the problem,” You raised your hand, gesturing wildly in the air. “I can't talk to him. I mean, I can. Tried a bunch of times. But he just walks away! Doesn't even look at me. Doesn't wanna be in the same vicinity as I am. He talks to you, guys. But to me, it's like I'm holding a gun in my hand and he fucking dips. What gives, huh?”

No one answered you, causing your cheeks to heat in embarrassment from the lengthy ramble.

For a while, you just wanted to be swallowed up by the floor and disappear forever. You almost did. The shadows can reclaim you into the darkness, so you can slip away from their sight and vanish until the next morning.

When you lifted your head, you saw all of them wearing the same expression.

Amusement. Disbelief. And one obvious “What the fuck?” look from your roommate.

It was Prism who broke the tension, hiding a massive smile behind her manicured hands.

“Oh, honey.” Her tone dripped with faux concern and pity. “You're as blind as a mouse, it's honestly cute.”

Blinking, you stared at her in confusion. “What the fuck do you mean?”

Coupé sighed softly. “Do you wonder why he acts so differently around you?”

“Yeah, like, all the time.”

“And you never wondered why he does?”

“I just told you.”

“You didn't wonder enough, it seemed.”

You were about to defend yourself, when Malevola cut in. “Respectfully, I agree with Coupé. The guy is definitely into you, Night. Why else would he actively try to avoid you?”

“Maybe he hates me?” You stated the obvious, rolling your eyes. “Maybe I've done something to give him the ick. Or maybe I'm not his type at all.”

“Bitch, you're everyone's type.” Prism rolled her eyes back at you. “And trust me, girl. You're not the only one who wanna hit! So make your fucking move. You only live once, so go fuck him while you have the chance!”

The rest of them said their agreement, even your roommate gave you a thumbs up as she finished her drink.

Somehow, that comforted you.

Until Malevola decided to ruin the peace.

“Make a tape while you're at it.”

You flipped her off, the heat in your cheeks returning.

At the side, Prism shrugged. “Ain’t gonna lie, I'd watch that.”

You flipped her off as well.

────────────── ★ ───────────────

A week has passed since that night, and you still haven't done anything to make a move.

Like his name itself, Waterboy was one slippery fucker who always left the room before you could even step foot inside. Whenever you had missions together, somehow Robert mysteriously started to pair you up more often, you did most of the talking while he nodded and followed your commands silently—all the while responding immediately to Robert as soon as he talked in his earpiece.

When you tried to strike small talk with him, he'd keep his answers short and curt. Stammering still, but never longer than five words. He avoided looking at you in the eye, stood at least five feet away, and flinched whenever you congratulated him with a simple pat on his arm.

Yeah, you were starting to think he really disliked your guts for some reason.

Well, whatever. Can't please anyone.

You sipped on your spiked punch, hanging at the far back of the office while everyone mingled and celebrated.

Blonde Blazer decided to throw a small celebratory party at your floor level after a month of continuous successful dispatch calls. Chase had his team joined in, as well as the other dispatchers and their respective program members. Beef was freely walking around the place, often getting cuddled by a few people. All the cubicles have been cleared to the side, making space for the table filled with snacks and drinks. Couches at every corner, laughter resounding in every group.

Robert hung around Blonde Blazer, of course he would, and you couldn't help but smile at your roommate’s barely concealed scowl. Even when she tried to hide it, Invisigal was more expressive than she realized. And right now, Blonde Blazer should be fucking buried six feet deep with how how lethal her glare looked.

“You know you can do that discreetly,” You voiced out, elbowing her. “Like don't stare directly at them. Do it every minute or so. They're definitely gonna notice.”

Vis finally tore her eyes from the pair, but the glare was now directed towards you. “Don't you have a wet hose to crack, Boogeyman?”

Snickering, you lightly punched her arm. “Oh, fuck off. I can't crack what I can't fucking touch. The guy's too slippery for me to even hold.”

She made a noise of disgust. “Maybe that's another power of his. Avoiding people who disappear into the shadows. Specifically just those kinds.”

“So, just me?”

“Who else?”

“That kinda breaks my heart, Vis.”

Your roommate flashed you a teasing grin, something glinted in her eyes. “I could get him for you if you want.”

As much as you wanted to accept the help, you really wanted to do this on your own. God knows how many times you tried to befriend the man. You can't even talk to him in the break room without him stammering intensely or sprinting away muttering some sort of excuse. At the start of the party, you greeted everyone on the floor including him. But of course, all you received was a crooked smile and hasty nod before he darted towards Robert.

Any attempts that followed always ended horribly. The Phoenix girls could see you trying and failing every time, even Blonde Blazer caught on. At the end of the hour, you decided to give up. You may be a former villain, but you won’t stoop that low chasing a man around for his attention.

You released a sigh, shaking your head at the offer. “Thanks, Vis. But at this point, I don't wanna fuck him anymore. Well, I still do. But I just wanna know why he doesn't want to do anything with me.”

She spared you a brief look of pity, until something caught her attention past you.

You heard her gasp, felt her finger poke your side, before she whispered low in your ear.

“Don't look but he's giving you these eyes.”

Refraining from looking over your shoulder, you focused on her. “Who? What eyes?”

The dark-haired woman whispered even lower. “Who else? Your future water bed. He has these fuck me eyes when I caught him staring at you. Gross.”

“Stop feeding my delusions,” You stepped back, fixing her an unamused look. “It's bad enough I wanna believe you, and maybe you've had too many of those drinks.”

Vis groaned, throwing her empty red cup to a bin next to her. “But seriously, he’s still giving you those fuck me eyes.”

A battle raged within you, desire clashing with logic.

Whether to turn and see for yourself or rationalize with yourself that he must be looking at someone else. Plus, you knew Vis and her jokes. It’s not the first time she baited you into something like this. At this point, you were too frustrated to fall for it. Weeks, almost a month since he joined, and your stupid little crush worsened every time she gave you an inkling of hope.

Part of you was desperate to look over, but you knew damn well you’re not about to chase the man again. Especially someone who’d run away the minute you show up. So, you chose to sip your drink and set your gaze forward.

“That’s it,” You huffed, glaring at Flambae in particular. He was in your line of sight, pretty convenient to do so. “I’m done chasing after him.”

Your roommate raised an eyebrow, amused and catching on. “You got a plan?”

Flashing her an impish smirk, you winked. “Let’s see how long it takes for him to do something if I ignore him this time.”

She slapped your butt as you made your way back to the center. “You got this!”

With the plan in mind, you regrouped with the party and focused on having fun rather than moping in a corner.

You hung around Prism and Malevola, who were recording themselves in the popstar’s phone while singing. You even participated in beer pong with the guys, playing against Sonar who flipped you off every time you made him drink a cup. Next up was Golem, who was surprisingly good and made you down more cups than you can count. Punch Up was in an arm wrestling contest with another hero, while Coupé watched from the side with her own drink in hand.

And to get her riled up, you casually flirted with Robert while smiling in Vis’ direction, which made her march right up and steal him away after you walked off laughing. You finally talked to Flambae, who handed you your two-week due ten bucks, and you stuck with him ever since.

The party has calmed, and the rest were invested in their own conversations.

Flambae was unexpectedly a pretty good conversationalist. At least, when he wasn’t brooding and being an asshole. You supposed the beer helped with it. Nevertheless, you found yourself enjoying your talk with him. You got to learn where he came from, why he became a villain, why he decided to join SDN.

In turn, you shared some parts of your own story.

In the middle of your conversation, Flambae nudged your arm.

“So, what’s up with you and waterbitch?” He asked, laying his arms behind the couch. “You two have a thing going on?”

Sputtering, you stared at him with wide eyes. “Fuck, you noticed?”

The Flame villain scoffed in amusement, shaking his head. “Anyone with a pair of good eyes would notice. You’ve been running after him since the start of the party. Wanna fuck him that badly, huh?”

“You automatically assume I wanna fuck him?” You tilted your head, he only gave you a deadpanned stare. “Okay, fine. Well, you’re not innocent yourself. I see the way you stare at Rob’s ass when he’s not looking.”

Flambae spat out his drink, coughing and putting his chest in shock. “Woah, woah, woah. Hey! I don’t do that shit. I don’t wanna fuck him. He’s fucking Mecha Man. He burnt my eyebrows. And my pride! I'm banned from Crypto Night because of him, that was my favorite place to drink! Honestly, why do people think that I–”

While he was busy defending himself, you didn’t miss his accent thickening and the prominent hue coating the tips of his ears. And you knew damn well it wasn’t because of the beer. The more words he spat out, the more his voice softened.

It got to the point he realized he was rambling, causing him to snap his mouth shut and glare at you.

“You think this is funny?’

“I wasn’t even laughing.”

“I could see you smiling.”

“Not laughing.”

He clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. “Whatever. You’re fucking crazy.”

That brought a laugh out of you, punching his arm lightly. “Aw, come on. I think it’s cute! I mean, you’re certainly not the only one with a crush on him. Blazer’s been batting her lashes, Vis hovers around him. Some people in other programs are interested. You gonna make a move, fireboy?”

A grimace invaded his features, his gaze briefly flickering towards Robert’s direction.

“How about you?” He deflected the question, regarding you now with a quirk of his half-burnt eyebrow. “Not to feed your delusional ass, but the sprinkler’s been staring at you this whole time. Kinda freaks me out.”

Your heart stuttered, but you forced yourself to remain impassive.

Sighing, you waved him off dismissively.

“Don't even start. Vis already said that earlier, and I'm not in the mood to–”

Flambae leaned towards you, his upper body almost covering yours while he neared his face beside your ear. To anyone, it would seem he was kissing you. You could feel his scruff grazing your cheek, and you involuntarily shivered at the sensation.

“Why not make him jealous?” His rough voice made your breath hitch. “I can see the bastard from here. He's shaking in his fucking wetsuit.”

You maintained a steady voice, though it was too weak. “What else?”

The Flame hero hummed, low and gruff, you pressed your thighs together. Fuck, it's been a long time since you had anyone this close. You might need to jerk the bottle next time you have a sleepover with the girls.

“Fuck me,” You heard him chuckle, you almost considered to. “Never knew he could glare like that. If he can shoot lasers from those goggles, I'd be fucking dead.”

Then, he slowly removed himself from you.

The air in your lungs finally escaped, coming out in light pants as you stared at him in bewilderment.

All you could see was a smug smirk, mischief glinting in his amber irises, and a wink from Flambae.

“Good luck, bitch.”

You offered him a small smile, nodding your thanks, before you stood up from the couch and walked away.

You could feel eyes on you while you sauntered towards the comfort rooms.

When you finally looked over your shoulder, you met gazes with the very man who tried to avoid them. But this time, he stared right back. You didn't miss the way he gulped, the way he clutched his cup tighter to his chest, and how his eyes widened when he realized you caught him looking.

Smirking, you tossed him a wink, before melting into the shadows in a smoky wisp.

────────────── ★ ───────────────

You hummed softly to yourself, fixing your hair and adjusting your clothes as you assessed your appearance in the mirror.

It was already past nine, the party started two hours ago, but there were more people coming in from different programs. You decided this was the best time to take a breather from them, and hopefully, your plan would finally work.

You really hoped he took the bait.

After fixing everything, you smiled in satisfaction and made your way out the comfort room.

Just when you opened the door, a tall figure jumped back in shock on the other side. You knew those yellow and blue colors, and lanky limbs anywhere.

Looking up, you locked gazes again with the object of your attraction.

Waterboy blinked, as if surprised to see you coming out of the women's restroom. His cheeks reddened, clearing his throat repeatedly as he tried to regain his footing. A loud squelch squished under his feet, his wetsuit caught a few trails of water from the light behind you.

He coughed again, shifting his eyes aside.

“Ah, sorry about that! I didn't know it was the women's rest– restroom. I was about to knock on the door. Sorry, didn't see the– uh, sign there.”

Knock on the women's restroom?

You raised an eyebrow, smiling softly at his adorable stammers. “No worries, Waterboy. It’s kinda dark in this hall. Honestly, I’d make the same mistake.”

The Water hero nodded, still not looking at you.

His thumbs twiddled together, and you caught him whispering something under his breath. Something that sounded like your alias, a few unintelligible lines, before he finally released a long breath and straightened himself.

“I was wondering,” The goggled hero inhaled, peering down at you in concern. “If you were okay? You didn't talk to– I mean, you looked like you were having fun– lots of fun out there. But you suddenly left.”

Leaning against the doorway, you smirked at him. “Why? Missed me already?”

“Yes,” He responded quickly, before he realized what he said. “I mean no– No, the others miss you. They were looking for you– where you went. I was sent here to– to look. And yeah! Here you. . . are.”

“Here I am,” You pushed yourself off the doorway, taking slow steps towards him. “So, need me for something?”

He stumbled backwards, you only followed.

“Were they looking for me?”

His back met the wall, and you stopped when you were standing right in front of him.

“Or were you?”

A shaky exhale escaped him, instinctively searching for an exit from your presence.

But you were tired of him running away.

So, you blocked his path with an arm to the wall and leaned up to his face real close. The blush tinting his cheeks deepened. His breathing became more labored, coming out in nervous pants. You searched his expression for any sign of discomfort. It was evident, yes, but the way his pupils dilated didn't miss your attention.

“Tell me something,” Your voice lowered, lashes fluttering. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

He exhaled again, whimpering softly. “I wasn't trying to. I just thought that– that you were. . . intimidating.”

Seriously?

Scoffing, you glared at him. “Intimidating? I've tried to befriend you multiple times, Waterboy. What exactly in me do you find intimidating?”

For a moment, he didn't answer you.

Instead, his eyes dropped to your lips.

You saw him losing focus momentarily, lashes fluttering, posture slouching. He didn't realize that he was slowly inching down, until your noses almost brushed. Until his breath, tainted with the same juice punch you drank, tangled with yours. Until there was only a breadth of space between your lips—only then he paused at the realization.

But before he could pull away, jet black smoke emitted from your palm. When you clenched your hand, his whole body froze. His body tried to resist your power, struggling against your shadow hold.

Your glare sharpened, your power preventing him from physically moving. Oh, he thought he could get away that easily? Oh, fat chance. He won't escape this time.

Not when you finally had him in your grasp.

“Answer me,” Your voice dripped in both a sensual lilt and a dangerous threat. “Or I won't let you leave.”

You didn’t expect a small sound from him to answer, like a whine almost. But fuck, did it spark a wild thought in your mind. You wondered what else you could pull out of him. What kinds of other noises. It was one of the reasons that drew you to him—to find out if he'd be the type to beg and cry for more.

When you tightened your fist, he made another noise from the back of his throat.

“Well?”

“It's– It's because I. . .”

“Go on, baby.”

“S-Shit,” He exhaled, then gasped. “Sorry, I didn't mean to curse. I-I mean– I don't curse. Much. I don't curse much. It's just– That was unexpected.”

Your smirk resurfaced, gaze gleaming. “You like me calling you baby?”

His cheeks deepened in color. “Y-Yes.”

“You like me controlling you?”

“Yes.”

“You wanna get out of here?”

He nodded, as if under a hypnotic trance.

One word escaped him—a single syllable—whispered so softly you almost didn't hear it over the distant music playing from the end of the hall.

“Please.”

Your teasing smirk turned into a victorious grin, immediately releasing your hold over his shadow. When he stumbled forward, your palm caught his cheek—moist and smooth—and your lips grazed the shell of his ear.

“Good boy.”

And the whimper he produced brought a dark chuckle out of you.

────────────── ★ ───────────────

“Oh, fuck.”

You tossed your head back, one hand gripping the edge of the desk. The other threaded against damp brunette strands between your legs. A ravenous tongue devoured your slick cunt, needy moans vibrating your core, causing you to shudder in delight.

Waterboy was far from perfect, but the way his enthusiasm showed through his hunger made up for the lack of experience. And fuck, he ate you out like a starved man who never had the chance to eat anything in his life.

“Fuck,” You groaned, pushing your hips out core more, to which he greedily accepted. “Fuck, that's it. Good boy.”

He moaned, shameless and loud, eyes rolling to the back of his head from the praise.

How did your night escalate to this exactly?

Well, one moment you were leading him to an empty room—God knows whose office it was—and the next, you were pulling him inside and locking the door behind him. Before he could protest, your lips covered his in a searing kiss. Starved and frustrated. After a month of running around, you were done playing these games.

You needed to have him.

Now.

And so, you walked backwards.

He chased after your mouth, gloved hands weakly clutching your hips as you both stumbled in the dark.

When something bumped against your behind, you didn't hesitate to sit on the desk and pull him closer. He settled there, thin hips between your thighs, still kissing you with equal desperation and need. It was a little clumsy, you could tell he didn't have a lot of experience with this sort of stuff.

So, you took the lead and slipped your tongue past his lips.

The gasp he let out allowed you to mold your tongue against his, guiding him to a deeper kiss.

He sighed shakily, whimpering into your mouth as the rush from earlier turned languid. He copied your movements, tilting his head and opening his mouth a little wider. Like you expected, he was a verbal kisser. Moaned into the kiss, whined when you pulled away just a little, and sighed when you tug on his bottom lip. You knew he learned quickly, obeyed without complaints, and that knowledge would be used to your advantage and his pleasure.

You parted briefly, kissing his cheek. “Ever kissed anyone like this before?”

Waterboy shook his head, and that made your heart ache for him. “No. I've never– Never been lucky with anyone. Because, y'know, I'm not that– um, ideal for them.”

You cupped his cheeks, gently stroking his high cheekbones, before you turned his face to look at yours.

“No girlfriend?”

“None– No. No one.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Still no– none.”

The only source of light was the silver streak of moonlight coming from the window behind you, but it was enough for you to see the hesitance and insecurity displayed on his features. If no one wanted him like you do, that meant you could have him all to yourself. You could show him so many things he missed out on. Spoil him real good, and shower him with the endless amount of affection he deserved.

“Too bad for them,” Your voice lowered into a sly quip, lips brushing along his ear. He shivered, and you laughed. “I'll have you all to myself. I'll take real good care of you.”

Your fingers played with the zipper at his collar, lightly tugging it down until his neck was exposed.

Then, you trailed your kisses along his jaw.

Starting under his ear, where his pulse raced, and down his jawline. You heard him gulp, feel his throat moving, and you didn't hesitate to kiss him there. Slow, purposeful, teasing. Your tongue darted out, flat on his Adam's apple, licking a long stripe up underneath his chin before nipping on the flushed skin.

Meanwhile, your deft fingers came up behind his head, nails lightly scratching his scalp.

His breath stuttered, hips rutting against your clothed center. “Oh, f-fu– That feels so– Good. Feels so good.”

You nipped the skin above his pulse, leaving your mark on him. “You like this, baby?”

He nodded, shivering. “Yes, please. M-More.”

More?

Your smirk widened, tugging on his damp strands until his head was tipped back. A high-pitched whine tore from his throat, helplessly bucking into you.

“You want more?”

“Yes. Please. I want– need more.”

“Then, you better earn it.”

You released your hold on him, and he immediately snapped his gaze to stare at you incredulously. Disappointment and hurt swam in his eyes, your heart melted at the sight of him looking so pathetic like that. Oh, he thought you were done with him? After making you chase after his sorry ass all those weeks? You needed to make things clear—he needed to earn it.

With a devilish grin, you caressed his cheek. “Oh, don't be sad, baby. I'm not done with you yet.”

Hope replaced the disappointment, glimmering bright behind his goggles. “Really? Oh. Then, uh, what do you want to– to do now?”

The hand of his cheek trailed up, settling on his head, before you applied enough force for him to bow slightly.

Like you expected, he seemed to understand the action and proceeded to sink to his knees. When he finally knelt, you gazed down at him in amusement and dark satisfaction. Fuck, he looked absolutely good on his knees like that. Between your legs. Wearing that adorable confusion on his sweet face. You could just eat him right up at that moment.

His eyes snapped up to meet yours, round in disbelief. “You want me to do– to please you? Here? In– In the office?”

“I said you wanted to earn more, right?” Your hand trailed down your stomach, and relished the sight of his jaw dropping. “Start with here.”

The rest that followed was a blur.

Your pants were taken off within a minute, alongside your underwear. You vaguely remembered him parting your knees. Kissing your inner thighs. Sighing into your skin. A long tongue licking up towards your exposed cunt. A cool breath pressing against your folds. You remembered him looking up at you, pleading and asking for permission. You nodded once, only once, before he dove in and stole the air from your lungs.

And now, here you were.

With him ravaging you like he's going to die if he didn't.

Waterboy didn't relent. Didn't even pause to take a breather or to rest his tongue. It must've been aching now. Still, he continued his pursuit to earn more. More praises. More access. More rewards from you. And who were you to deny such a sweet boy?

“Circle your tongue on that area,” You coached him, and he obeyed with a slow swirl of his tongue around your clit. “Shit. Fuck. That's it, baby. Doing so good for me.”

The praise fueled him even more, tugging you closer to the edge of the desk as he repeated the motion fervently.

In no time, your breathing picked up.

“Fuck. Don't stop, baby. Keep going.”

He nodded, eager to please, pressing himself even deeper into you. His hands, freed from his gloves, glided over your hips and thighs. There was a little moisture from them, damp from his power, but somehow it triggered another shiver down your spine from the cool sensation.

It contrasted the simmering heat coursing in your veins, blood running hot at the impending peak of your climax. Your thighs began to tremble, but his hands were there to soothe the tremors. The sounds he made were absolutely obscene—the lewd slurps, the needy whines, the tiny little mumbles of please and more.

The shadows in the room shifted, some flaring out like flames from the walls. Dark tendrils manifested beneath him, dancing and caressing his body in light touches. Your power didn't seem to bother him, already seeing it beforehand during your synergy battles. He only grew more persistent, bringing one hand to stroke your entrance before two lithe fingers entered you in deliberate, shy curls.

Your back arched, gasping into the air. “Ah, shit. Fuck, fuck– m’so close.”

His fingers reached that spot within you, repetitively brushing against the area as he dragged them out and pushed back in. He switched to sucking on your clit, causing you to squirm against his mouth and on the desk. The darkness behind your eyelids exploded into a hot white flash. Your toes curled, your chest rose and fell at the surge of your release. Even when your thighs clamped around his head, he still didn't falter.

If anything, he moaned loudly.

Your climax washed over your body in intense waves, and Waterboy drew the tides longer the more he greedily drank from you. After the light vanishes behind your eyelids, fluttering them open to adjust in the darkness, you let your thighs fall away from his head. Your arm almost gave out behind you, but you forced yourself upright.

“Fuck,” It was the only word you could think of, mind still trapped in a foggy daze. “Oh, fuck.”

Between your legs, you felt him finally part from your soaked cunt. He was breathing hard, fast, like he had run a marathon from the office and back. His fingers slipped out of you, drawing another moan out your lips, and you heard him suck on the slick release with a relieved whine.

Your gaze dropped to him, surprised to find his eyes already pinned on you.

Is he crying?

You brought the hand on his hand to cup his cheek, and he immediately leaned against your touch.

“Was I– was that okay?” Waterboy stared at you, half-lidded and teary-eyed, and a tired smile broke out of your features.

Your thumb swept across his glistening bottom lip, before pushing it into his mouth. The whimper he released was needy, sucking on your thumb without breaking eye contact.

“You did perfect,” You praised, still out of breath. “So perfect, baby. You even pulled a trick up your sleeve in the end. Where d’you learn that?”

Waterboy flushed deeper, caught. “Oh, uh. . . Well, I just thought of it during– I just wanted to do it. Try it. See if it works.”

You gave him a knowing smirk, chuckling at his embarrassment. “Did a little research, huh?”

He nodded, avoiding your stare. “You could say that.”

Cute.

Once the feeling returned to your legs, you patted his cheek.

“Up.”

He quickly rose to his feet, a little out of balance, but he towered over you easily. Even sitting on a desk, his looming height shadowed yours. If he didn't hunch most of the time, he would appear much taller than he was. You'd love to help him with that confidence issue, his potential was too great to ignore.

You grabbed his collar and pulled him down for another kiss as a reward for his effort.

With the practice earlier, Waterboy was able to match you in equal fervor. Still clumsy, but so much better. His hands were moist—from his sweat or power, you didn't care which one—gripping your hips as you began to unzip the front of his wetsuit.

But he quickly stopped you before you could.

“My power is not– I can't control it well. Especially when I'm– We should just leave it like this.”

“Hey, it’s fine. You don’t need to worry.”

“But you could get we– soaked.”

Raising an eyebrow, you smirked at him. “Aren’t I already?”

You saw his throat bob at your crude joke. “I suppose that’s– Yeah, that makes sense. I guess we could. . .”

“Shhh,” You pressed a finger to his lips, slipping off of the desk. “I said I’ll take good care of you. Don’t worry your pretty little head. Okay, baby?”

Waterboy nodded, dazed from the small compliment. “You– You think I’m pretty?”

You kissed his cheek, “I think you're cute, pretty boy.”

Without warning, you shoved him aside to an empty chair.

He flopped down, letting out a surprised yelp. Whoever's chair this belonged to, you hoped they wouldn't mind a little mess next time they clock in. But you don’t it would be a problem, not when you have someone who can clean up after you guys are done.

You didn't give him a chance to speak, quickly straddling him down with your legs beside his and your cunt directly against the prominent bulge beneath his wetsuit. Fuck, judging by the hardness of it, you could tell he was definitely hiding a lot more inches to him. Just imagining it brought an ache between your legs, and you wanted to skip this to the main course.

However, it wasn't fair that only he got to have a taste.

Now, it’s time to have yours.

“You said you find me intimidating?” Your fingers returned to his zipper. “I'd really like to know why. Is it because you hated me?”

He shook his head furiously. “N-No– No! I don't hate you. I never ha–hated you.”

You tugged it open, slowly, your gaze following the tab as it descended to reveal unblemished skin.

Stopping just below his belly button, your fingers glided upwards, his stomach tensing underneath your touch. Random patterns were drawn, fingertips dancing along soft dips and flat muscles—no battle scars, and no unhealed wounds—untouched in more ways than one.

“So, what was it? You liked having me chase you around? Wanted me to look like a fucking idiot with a schoolgirl crush?”

Again, Waterboy shook his head. “That's– That's not it– not what it was. I-I’m sorry if it seemed like that–”

You silenced him with another kiss, both hands now on his chest. He did nothing but accept it, whimpering into your mouth, leaning back against the chair as you pushed deeper, rougher, hungrier.

He didn't push you away, instead he did something you'd never expect.

His hands fell to your thighs, before he shyly rolled his hips up to grind to meet yours.

In a small voice, he whispered. “I liked you– like you. I was just scared the others were– they put you up with this. But– haaa, I like you too.”

Fuck.

Momentarily losing focus, you grinded back on him. Your clit caught the end of his zipper, tearing a ragged mouth from you. He took that as a sign to be a little bolder. He still let you lead the kiss, control the pace how you liked, while meeting every roll with his own small thrusts. But as much as you wanted to give in, you still had a plan to follow.

So, you wrapped your hand around his throat and tore yourself away from him. His breath hitched, dilated eyes round in disbelief. His chest quickly rose and fell, throat moving under your palm. But what caught your attention the most was the feeling of him twitching beneath you. Just as you thought, he liked this shit just as much as you did.

Grinning, you squeezed his throat harder.

And his eyes rolled back, rutting against you more desperately.

“More,” He exhaled shakily, whining louder now. “Please. I'll be good– So good. Just want more. Please.”

Oh, poor thing's so touch-starved.

Not that you minded. This was exactly why you had your eye on him.

Sweet, charming, pathetic Waterboy.

Letting go of his throat, you only caught a glimpse of the disappointment on his face before you were sliding off of him and down to your knees.

His gaze followed you, widening even more if that was possible. “O-Oh, mother of– Are you going to– What are you going to do?”

Your attention flitted between his stunned expression and back down to the visible strain on his wetsuit. Fuck, he was long. Even through the layers, you could almost see the length of him. You already knew this was going to be both a treat and a challenge for the both of you.

“Just want to return the favor.”

You tugged his zipper, dragging it slowly over his crotch until it stopped at the end. Of course, his underwear was speedos. Blue ones, no less—practical, yet still ridiculous.

“Fu– Favor?” His words stuttered, a hiss fell past his lips at the contact of your hand on him. “Ah, that’s– Okay. Yeah, you can reta– return the favor.”

Due to his power, you were able to stroke him easily. Enough slickness, easier movements. He twitched in your hand, eyes glazing over in drunken lust. The head of his cock peaked from his waistband, flushed pink, and you couldn't wait to see all of him—all pretty, all begging, and all yours.

You flashed him a coy smirk, eyes glinting in dark delight. “Just sit there and look pretty for me. Okay, baby?”

Waterboy nodded, shifting his hips outwards. “Y-Yeah, I can. I will. Whatever you want.”

“Good boy,” You kissed his hard length. “Now, keep quiet. We don't want the others to hear.”

Your fingers hooked over his waistband, then in a single flourish you freed him. Your mouth parted, and he covered his face with both of his hands.

Fuck.

The girls were gonna have a field day because you were fucking right. Tall, skinny guys definitely pack more. He's long, you didn't need to think about the exact digits because fuck he was, with a slight upward curve and one prominent vein underlining the base. The tip of his cock was flushed pink, almost red if you squint hard enough, precum already leaking out. Oh, the poor boy was so deprived.

Wrapping a hand around him, he immediately throbbed in your touch. Warm, hard, and eager. You gave an experimental jerk, and a loud whimper escaped him, throbbing again as you started a slow work over his length.

“Just like I thought,” You hummed, low and teasing, fixing him with a dangerous look. “So fucking pretty.”

Waterboy peeked through his fingers, goggles slightly skewed. “Th–Thanks. Oh, fu-fuck–”

His sentence never finished, because your lips were on his tip. Kissing him softly. Letting your tongue drag over his slit. Tasting him, and just as you expected, clean and bittersweet. Oh, this was just getting better and better for you. Hopefully, it was the same for him, because you're planning to make him remember this night every time he passes this hall and sees this office.

Without waiting any further, you swirled your tongue around his tip and sucked.

His whole body jolted, almost flying off of the chair. But you held him down with your other hand on his hip. Fortunately, he seemed to get the message from your glare. A warning. If he moved again, you weren't afraid to use your shadows to restrain him. So, he grasped the armchairs instead, giving you a small nod and a pleading look.

Patting his hip, you kissed his tip again.

Before you flattened your tongue beneath him, and took him deep. Nice and slow. The reward you received blessed your ears with his ragged breathing, muffled cries, and broken syllables. His breathing turned heavy, as if he had just resurfaced from the ocean. You could see the sheen on his skin, not sweat, definitely his power.

You breathed through your nose, hollowing your cheeks, before sucking him back up. Then, you did it again. Take him in slow. Suck him back fast. Again and again, until your throat relaxed to the sensation and you were able to take more. And when he tried to talk, you moaned around him and let the words die in his throat.

Meanwhile, his body constantly twitched and flinched every time. Tiny whimpers became desperate mewls. Ragged breathing turned into shortened breaths. His hands were knuckle white, gripping the armchair so hard moisture started to gather.

Still, Waterboy kept his hips still. Even when you felt him squirming, he didn't move.

So, you let him go and decided to reward him.

Kissing his hip, marking on his skin, while your hand continued to work him faster.

“Doing so good for me, baby.”

“Sound so pretty.”

“Look at you, sweet boy. Taking this so well.”

“Might keep you all to myself.”

The flooded praises produced more sounds from him. All equally needy and broken. His breathing quickened, and in time, he was writhing on the chair. When your mouth returned to him, focusing on his tip while your hand didn't falter. You didn't stop even when he was sobbing, your mouth and hand worked in sync until he was gasping for air and one of his hands flew to his mouth to muffle himself.

By the way his noises grew behind his hand, and the way his cock throbbed in yours, it wouldn't be long until he reached his peak.

Waterboy sobbed, goggles too fogged to let you see the tears behind them. “A-Ah, wait. Oh, please. Please, don't sta– stop. Don't stop.”

“What if I do?”

“N-No! Please, don't–”

“You think you deserve to come?”

“But I’ve been go– I'm good. You sa– said I've been good.”

You hummed, kissing him again with mischief swimming in your gaze. “I changed my mind. Maybe I won't let you finish yet.”

Then, you stood up—leaving him aching and throbbing in his seat.

He stared at you, weak frustration evident on his flushed features, but he made no move to follow. Good, he learned fast. You walked backwards, returning to the desk earlier. While you slid on it, your gaze wandered over his body hungrily. From his heaving chest, his smooth stomach, down to his still hard and deeply red length glistening for attention.

You were tempted to walk right over and take him right there on the chair. Straddle him down, keep his mouth quiet, while you chase your pleasure and have him beg. But that would mean you'd do all the work.

No, he needed to work for it.

With a flick of your finger, you gestured for him to stand. “Come here.”

He shot up from his seat, stumbling towards you with lanky limbs and clumsy footing. You quickly removed his goggles, and felt the hot tears finally stream down his cheeks as you cupped his face. How could his skin feel so warm and cool at the same time? You didn't think much about it, bringing him down to capture his lips in a bruising kiss.

A high moan met your tongue, two trembling hands settled on your waist. He pushed himself into you, his stiff length rubbing on your inner thigh. Fingernails raked against a damp scalp. Chests pressed together. The kiss turned breathless and hurried. You didn't mind the clumsiness anymore, all you wanted was to make him lose himself into the pleasure—corrupt him in more ways than one.

When you parted, it was to whisper in his ear.

“Since you want to be good for me, go and work for it.”

He didn't say anything. The nod he gave you told you enough he knew what he was supposed to do. Wordlessly, he took himself in hand—groaning quietly as he pumped himself twice—before lining the head of his cock to your entrance. You shifted your hips, grinding back against him and cursing when his tip brushed your clit.

“Go on, baby.” You kissed his jaw, relishing the tiny whimper he made. “You can take it.”

Waterboy buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. Then, with a shaky exhale, he pushed himself into you—slowly, carefully, finally.

“O-Oh, fuck.”

Your lungs constricted on itself, struggling to take in air from the fullness deliberately inching further and further into your walls. Your arms came up around his neck, clinging onto him, while he entered his remaining length. When he stopped, fully sheathed inside your walls, you both released a long, stuttering breath.

Fuck.

Holy fucking fuck.

You should've known he was dangerous. You should've not underestimated him. That fucking curve of his could make you come in that moment, and he hasn't even started to move. Already he reached that spot within you that no other person in the past has easily done. At least, not while they were keeping still. And here he was, restraining himself from moving too much, yet you were struggling not to clench around him.

If you did, he might come on the spot.

Hot tears dropped on your shoulder, his breathing was uneven and you feared he might collapse from the sensation.

“Can I?” Waterboy whispered, hugging you tighter. “Can I start– Can I move? Please, let me. Want to– Need to move, please.”

You nodded, equally dazed. “Go on, baby.”

He sobbed, whether from relief or pain, pulling his hips back before thrusting into you again.

“Thank you. Oh, tha–thank you.”

The first thrust tore a curse of you, the second made your head swim. The following ultimately erased all thoughts in your head. His rhythm was unsteady, unpracticed, but it made it all the more promising. It meant you could do this again so he could get the hang of it. Even when his thrusts were sloppy, you still found yourself enjoying it.

You supposed this was really for him, rather than yourself. Not out of pity, but because you wanted him to feel what he's been missing for all the months you've been chasing him. Now that he's got a taste of it, he'd be addicted for more. Until that addiction turns into a crave—and you'll give him everything he wants as long as he'll come running back to you.

He started picking up speed, desperately rolling his hips. All that left his mouth were the slurred and broken syllables of the words.

Please. Thank you. So good. More.

And occasionally, breathy curses.

You were right, he was even more vocal when he's into it. He kept on babbling the same words, sobbing louder on your shoulder.

His hands were everywhere. One on your waist, running up and down to your thigh. The other managed to slip inside your shirt, and underneath your bra. Yours were in his hair, tugging his head back to kiss him again to silence his noises.

Anyone can just walk down this hall and hear what's going on inside the office. As much as the thrill excited you, you weren't sure if it would be the same case to him. So, you kept his mouth busy while he eagerly returned the kiss—hot, messy, starved.

You were surprised he hasn't accidentally activated his power yet. Maybe he has more control over it than you previously thought. Or maybe the hero training with Blonde Blazer paid off. Good, you didn't plan on drowning from kissing him.

You transferred your kisses down his neck, leaving more marks so others can know who placed them there.

In return, he gasped and tilted his head to give you access.

“I’m g-gonna–” He let out a strangled sound, pace faltering for a moment. “Close. I'm so– Sorry. I'm sorry. It's too much–”

That was quick.

You hushed him, kissing the darkening bruises on his skin. “Let go, baby. It's okay. You earned it.”

“Can I? Where do I– do you want me?”

“Anywhere you want, hon.”

“Oh, fu– Ahh, really?”

“Okay,” Waterboy sniffled, and this time, he was the one who kissed you. “Thank you. Thank you.”

When you felt him throb violently inside you, you knew it wouldn't take long. You kissed him deeper, clenching around him and he moaned your name against your lips.

Your name.

Not Midnight.

The one you told all of them that night outside the Taco store after the bar brawl in Sardine.

You clenched around him again, feeling your own climax drawing nearer. “Again. Say my name again.”

He said it again—louder, needier—and your blood burned molten heat at the sound. Your name echoed around the room, you didn't care anymore if anyone heard outside the door. All you could focus on was him. The addictive drag of his length in and out of your walls. His tip continuously hit that sensitive spot. The pathetic sounds he made. The sobs of your name. And the unmistakable twitch of his cock.

Finally, after giving him one last squeeze, he slammed himself into you and spilled his release inside. At the same time, there was a cool gush of water streaming from his fingertips, soaking your skin and shirt.

You shivered, coming undone after him with a bite on his shoulder.

Suddenly, you felt like you were being drowned under harsh waves of pleasure. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't think. You couldn't swim away from it even if you tried. All you could feel was him, slick against your body, shivering just as the same. Hear him gasping for air, like he was drowning with you. Smell his scent, clear and distinct like the ocean.

When the waves finally calmed, you swam back to the surface and opened your eyes to see darkness.

The shadows in the room swirled like smoke, melting back into the corners as you attempted to gather your bearings.

Meanwhile, you felt the desk beneath you drenched in water. And something else.

Fuck, we really did that.

You couldn't help it, laughter tumbled out of your lips before you could stop it.

We broke so many rules.

The reality hit Waterboy as well like a splash, and he immediately pulled out of you with a soft curse.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry– So sorry! I didn't mean to come inside– in there. Here, I'll clean you up. I made a mess. Ju–Just wait here.”

After he clumsily redressed himself, he frantically searched for something around the room before darting away.

You only had a dazed grin on your face, blinking away the awe and disbelief.

Of all things, he's worried about coming inside me?

When he returned, there was a rag—you only hoped it was unused—in his gloved hand. He must've worn it immediately, as well as his goggles which he picked up from the floor. And for the next few minutes, he proceeded to wipe you down. Starting from the water on your skin, and to the mixed spend between your thighs. After that, he wiped the desk after you hopped off and redressed into your underwear and pants.

And fuck, were you stumbling?

Yeah, you were.

Waterboy can definitely make a girl wet and come.

“There, all finished!”

You glanced at the desk, grimacing at the evident traces of water and. . . Well, you just hoped whoever that desk belonged to wouldn't be too mad the next morning.

When the tall hero turned to face you, he gasped in shock when you pulled him down for another kiss. This time, it was softer. Gentler. Sweeter. The kind that melted the both of you into submission. Into acceptance. The rag dropped to the floor, and his hands were back on your waist. The sigh he released into your mouth was heavenly, and you tasted cloud nine.

After a while, you both parted and gazed into each other's eyes.

You grinned up at him, coy and playful. “Definitely an HR violation.”

The smile he gave you was boyish, crooked, and it made your heart flutter. “Definitely.”

Then, his lips were back on yours.

And the world faded away into shadows.

[m1ndpalace]

Do you do requests?

hii as of the moment i try to write as a side hobby so i'm not sure how committed i would be in taking requests, but feel free to drop them by bc who knows maybe i'd feel a little spark w the idea and suddenly get the surge to write AND finish it (and maybe post it in one go) hahaha

no promises how long tho 💃

[m1ndpalace]

♧ MASTERLIST ♧

most of these are nsfw, with that being said, minors DO NOT INTERACT.

◇ BUNGO STRAY DOGS

ango sakaguchi — good boys get their reward.

atsushi nakajima — greedy.

osamu dazai — i like it when you tell me what to do.

◇ DISPATCH

coming soon.

◇ GENSHIN IMPACT

coming soon.

[m1ndpalace]

i like it when you tell me what to do. —osamu dazai.

contains: dirty talk, playful!reader, mafia executive!dazai, if you think about it the positioning of furniture here is kinda weird, teasing, kinda dom reader maybe a switch, masochism (and sadism), gun play, unprotected sex, edge play

warning: unedited🤧

dazai's mischievous smirk greeted you as soon as your eyes met when he padded his thumb to your lips, raising your chin up.

playing with your bottom lip, you licked his thumb, slightly biting it to fully suck it. "ah, belladonna, i like this shade on you, i cannot wait to smear it off you."

you were then pulled to face your reflection as he kept your arms behind you, pulling bandages to restrain you. you tugged playfully as his grip tightens around your wrist.

trailing the tip of his nose on the side of your face, you meet his gaze and lowly chuckle at his dalliance. "you're losing your touch osamu," freeing yourself from the knot of his bandages, you roughly cup his jaw, dragging his face onto your height.

"you're not as fast as you were," you whisper as you lead a hot path to his ear.

with one swift motion of turning you and pushing you to his desk, you suddenly find yourself bending over—with his arm weighting your back, keeping you from standing.

"that's where you're wrong belladonna," his teeth grazing at your jaw, the barrel of his gun trailing up and down your leg to your thigh. "mhm?" you mindlessly hummed, your tone teasing. "i stay the same, if not better."

"as you do," he chuckled, his fingers making their way to your soaking folds. "my hands easily turn you into this wet mess, like the whore you are."

"and you easily get hard because of my dainty fingers," you smirked, stroking his hard length through his tight pants. "are you trying to out-whore me, osamu? hmm?"

while he enjoyed pressing his hard-on on your behind, you took advantage of breaking free off his hold and facing him, your back now at the table.

taking his semi-soaked gun, you licked your juices off the tip of the barrel and teasingly trailed it to the tight part of his slacks. up and down the barrel went, tracing the outline of his hardness.

dazai's mischievous smirk and occasional moans clouded your thoughts yet followed what his eyes wanted. "i like it when you do things to me, bella," he moaned. you notice a growing damp spot on the tight spot.

"like this?" you chuckled, tenderly pulling him into a kiss, slowly biting his lower lip until it bled, all the while cocking his gun and drawing a trail up and down his neck and torso.

"mhm," he whispered onto your teeth, saliva and blood mixing."

after a few more mindless patterns, you settled the tip of his barrel on his chest, directly above his heart.

his eyes glimmered with the same excitement whenever he faced danger. you pulled the trigger but none came. you continued dancing with his tongue, ravaging each other's mouths.

strings of saliva stretched from your mouths as soon as you gasped for air. laughing with your partner.

dazai grabbed at your hand, placing it onto his tight pants. he leaned on your neck only to beg and to bite for a few licks.

"tell me what to do with this, i like it when you tell me what to do."

as he let go of your settled hand, you feel the cold barrel traversing your back, following the trail of your spine.

as if a damsel in distress, you dramatically sighed and slightly opened your legs. "do the work for me osamu."

"but that's no fun," he gritted out, turning to you for him to face your behind. his feet pusing your legs on both sides to make room as he unbuckled his belt.

"do you love it when i fuck you from behind?" he whispered dramatically, his gun trailing your side.

"do you like being allowed to fuck me at all, osamu?" you replied with your usual seductive tone, your nails playing with his chin and your thumb padding his bloodied lower lip.

"would you rather like being fucked from behind," you teased, now gripping his dripping cock.

"i would love to, ah—," he moaned as he hungrily claimed your mouth as you pumped.

as if on cue, his gun stopped on the side of your head. without any second thought, he pulled the trigger, but none came.

"just like that, ah, yes—" with his head mindlessly drawn back, his face drunk on pleasure, you slowly intensified your strokes as you pushed his back to his desk where he found his knuckles tightly gripping its edges.

"mhm, ah, bella, you do me so good."

pornographic moans reverbated in the room as both of you panted, restlessly trailing each other's hands, fighting for dominance before the other takes over.

after successfully pinning your back to the same position on his desk, he teasingly rubs his hard dick on your now exposed ass, slowly drawing mindless lines up and down your behind and inner wet folds.

you grind on his hardness, smirking mischievously after his huffs of groans. with both your bodies sticky from sweat and pleasure, you couldn't help but moan with him as he went in.

the chorus of both your low and seductive chuckles filled the air. "ah bella, you make me believe in heaven when we're like this."

with dazai thrusting in and out of you like a maniac it was only natural that he lost his focus on your restraints. you were able to twist your body to face him, delaying his near nirvana.

he grinned like a maniac as you gripped on his exposed hard on. "kneel," you commanded through your teeth.

it took a swift second before you sat yourself on his desk, opening your exposed wetness. "osamu, you're forgetting something," you opened your legs wider.

his lips slowly climbed from the tip of your toe to your inner thighs. he sighed, taking in the warmth. he slowly lapped on your folds. when he gets a little too excited, you grip on his hair to withdraw him from you.

"ah, bella you must be a goddess to turn my pains into this pleasure," he moans.

[m1ndpalace]

greedy. — atsushi nakajima x reader

content: nsfw, submissive!atsushi, greedy!atsushi, soft dom!reader, slight voyeurism?, that's about it... i think

(not edited, sorry for mistakes and such. i wrote and posted this out of a whim)

atsushi has spent endless nights and days dreaming about being caught. he might be too shy to admit it and he might be a little too sure that he would perish from embarrassment right then and there but here he is: leaving the door of the room open was all part of the plan, shamelessly moaning your name until the neighbors complained was part of the plan, as well as you finding out.

with your frozen figure directly looking at his exposed skin, he couldn't help but feel shame, altogether the brewing sensation of his anticipation of the possibilities of your next step.

he was certain of what he wanted and he knew he would get it from this.

as soon as he saw your lips curving into a soft smirk, your surprised eyes now filled with desire, the heat from his face shamelessly traveled through his body, one specific spot a little too exposed and highlighted from its leaking substance.

"continue your show, 'tsushi, i would like to watch," you encouraged with a teasing look.

it was evident that atsushi was hiding his excitement. his shy act went on as he stroked his hardness, giving you a doe-eyed look as he bit his lip.

it would be a lie to say that he didn't look hot with his teasing innocent act. with your white button-down hanging on his thin frame, his lustful expression, and his occasional gasps it was difficult to give him the punishment you wanted to pursue. and so you let him carry out his act; pleasuring himself, his hands stroking the prettiest expressions his face could ever make, making sounds that even angels couldn't make.

unable to stop yourself, your feet brought you closer to atsushi. settling behind him, you felt the visible quivers of his body. mindlessly tracing nonexistent lines over the linen, you waited for your favorite reaction. it was a familiar terrain; your hands' favorite place to travel whenever it could. after the fourth time of "accidentally" brushing over his visible nipples, his quivering lips released your favorite moan; a long one, one he would let out when he's seconds near his promised land.

his hands went faster, his eyes pleading with unspoken words of desire. you continued your exploration, now using your lips. you scattered light kisses on his neck, his forehead, his cheek, even tasting his tears. your hands popped the few buttons that covered his mid drift. now with his exposed torso in front of you, you continued your trail down to his length, stopping his desperate hands.

"'tsushi, do you want to cum?" you licked his hand, lightly sucking on his thumb. 

"yes, oh please—" he moaned, his thoughts now thrown out of the window, he mindlessly threw his head back as you licked his tip. "no, no, if you do that i'll cum—no—"

"hmm? is that a dare?" you licked again, his body now visibly jerking in response.

"no, i just—" another lick, "don't want to cum," another, "without your—permission—" he gritted out.

"why is that?" you licked again. he was slowly dripping despite his control.

"i, uh—ahh—no please stop," 

it was surrender and an accepted defeat as he melted in your mouth. 

"please—more—uhhh," his strong grip greeted your hair as he pushed your mouth to reach a new deep.

"hmm? 'tsushi you're so confusing. only a second ago you wanted me to stop," you teased.

watching him quiver and melt was a sight you will never get tired seeing. his aggressive efforts and his soft moans matched the desperation you felt from him.

it was like watchung him being drunk from his old friend; it was the desperation after his defeat and surrender.

with hazy eyes, seeing your cum-covered mouth, panic washed over his clarity. "i'm sorry! i didn't mean to cum, i didn't mean to make a mess!"

inching in to his flushed face, you licked his lips, whispering, "did you like it?" you smile against his soft lips.

"yes, thank you," he softly replied, welcoming your lips, tasting his own sweetness on your tongue. 

"i shouldn't spoil you too much. you're beginning to be greedy nowadays," you chuckled on his lips.

[sasudou]

ango is so fucking confusing

man is an octuple agent and is somehow still alive

[dazaiskinnie]

Atsushi: Why are you naked Dazai-san?

Dazai: …..i don’t have any clothes

Atsushi, opening Dazai’s closet: You have a ridiculous amount of clothes Dazai-san. This shirt, this sweater, hi Chuuya-kun , these pants

[m1ndpalace]

good boys get their reward. —ango sakaguchi.

content: nsfw, dom!reader, sub!ango, pegging, degradation, dirty talk, slut shaming, femdom, restraints, that's about it i think?

(also, not thoroughly edited so expect minor mistakes)

skin soaked in sweat, his slick black hair tangled in the firm hold of your fingertips, his glasses foggy, his office suit haphazardly taken off him: his right nipple exposed—dress shirt far from the crisp state it usually is in, one sleeve off him despite not being completely unbuttoned. 

the high and mighty ango sakaguchi, kneeling in front of you; sweat and tears cascading down his face, painting more colors to his magnificent fucked out state. 

"i've been good, please—" he begged.

the prettiest whimpers left his kiss-swollen lips as soon as you held his swollen length. pearls of pre-cum were starting to drip down his desperate hardness when you started to work your hand once again.

he shuddered against you, his eyes low and breaths heavy.

"why, do you have proof you didn't touch yourself while you were away?" you asked him, facing his reflection, a hand tightly holding his hair to avoid his posture to curl, another hand on his hardness—his contained pleasure slowly unravelling in pearly drops from his slit.

"i‐in my bag, the e‐envelope."

in a smaller black envelope in the midst of manila envelopes, there lie two polaroid pictures. one with him in his usual office attire, his belt unbuckled exposing his chastity cage, and another—a shot showing the vibrator you inserted in him, completely untouched.

with his arms behind his back, completely restrained by his necktie, he crawled to you whimpering. “please make me cum, i want to cum—please,” he struggled as he resorted to getting friction from the floor.

silent pleading from his low lidded eyes begged below you. his legs visibly quaked as you turned the vibrator’s setting up. it was an enjoyable sight. after all, an important figure like him is rare to be in this position. 

“i’m yours, use me all you want please—please fuck me as hard as you want,” he drooled out, his eyes rolling back from intense pleasure.

“god, you look so pretty for me. you want my cock?” 

his pretty face nodded excitedly. “please, i’m near, i want to cum on your dick please.”

as soon as your dildo entered his eager hole, a chorus of his moans and whimpers echoed in the room. without taking the vibrator off, you thrusted harder and harder, again and again.

“yes, there, right there harder—please."

"you're such a slut, huh? you're so eager to be fucked hard. you want my dick, huh? you want to be fucked hard? tell me what you are, tell me what you really are." you gripped his hair to angle his face at his slutty reflection.

with dildo and vibrator still stretching his insides, you confronted him and his disheveled reflection. "you tell the world you're a dignified man, yet here you are begging for your hole to be filled."

"tell me what you are," you whispered.

and like clockwork, he opened his quivering lips to obediently reply. "i'm a slut—i'm your slut."

"what are you again? i can't hear your words," you teased.

he positioned his ass up to give you a nearer view of his filled hole. "i'm your pretty cocksleeve who likes to be fucked silly by your dick."

"very," you thrusted, "good." 

every merciless pounding was a bruising hit to his spot but his moans told you otherwise. 

"i'm near, faster please," he cried as you buried what he wanted into him.

his face was glistening from sweat, his eyebrows higher each time you slid in, his eyes rolling back each stretch. his frantic whimpers and begging turned into cries of moans, trying to keep a heavy but steady breath. 

"ohh, i'm near, i'm near, yes please i—"

sated by his clarity, you looked at his stained reflection. "good boys always get their reward, did you like yours?"

"yes. thank you very much," he breathed.

[fungusamongusblog2]

[sheepskeleton-art]

Lilia Baranovskaya

Based on a picture of Maya Plisetskaya, a famous ballerina from Bolshoy ballet, who I strongly suspect was the inspiration behid Lilia's design in the show. Also inspired by a Mehoffer's portrait of his wife (1907).

[angolicious]

Unpopular opinion…

They made this guy way too hot for just one episode and no characterization. But maybe i just have a type….