#boss x reader

It seemed highly pertinent to separate you since no other worker was deemed worthy of your attention. It's stingy and possessive all in the same.

He loves you in all the wrong ways and it drives you crazy. At first, you thought he was seeking efficiency and productivity from you but it's much darker than that— it's more of an audition for his next partner, except, you're the only one applying.

He's making you compete in a game you don't know you're playing, forcing nearly impossible challenges onto you to see you break before him.

There's a sadistic smile when he sees you all frustrated and irascible in his office, begging for resignation, but he doesn't give it to you.

ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐂É 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི ͏

[ REQUESTS OPEN ]

𝜗𝜚𝐑𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒𝜗𝜚

[ REQUESTS OPEN ]

𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝜗 ♥︎ 𝜚

Boss Nanami x reader

PLOT: Your boss can't hold back his desire for you. You make the most of the empty office and his huge co-

CW: 18+, MDNI, jealousy, possessive, overstimulated, multiple rounds, SoftDom!Nanami, perv!Reader, perv!Nanami, fingering, PIV, straddling, doggy style, creampie

2.9k words

🎶Your Love - She Wants Revenge :)) Enjoy

(banner by @chosomyfavwife - credit if using)

Weeks after the holiday office party, Nanami can’t stop picturing you and your co-worker kissing. The way he just grabbed you and pressed his lips on yours, trying to slip his tongue down your throat.

No chemistry, no tension, just unmotivated and disgusting lust. 

He had a weird pit in his stomach the moment it happened but an even more unsettling pang to his chest settling down to his cock when you pushed your co-worker back. 

Slap! 

You hit him so hard, the whole floor turned towards the corner. You walked off, repulse written all over your face, while he stood there, groaning, hand to his cheek.  

Since that day, Nanami inches closer to the moment he’ll inevitably fail to hide his desire for you. 

The pencil skirts, the button-down blouses, the delicious way your teeth catches your plump bottom lip when you’re thinking... 

He’s had enough.

——————

It was the last task of the day—print and copy the invoices for mailing tomorrow, but the stupid copy machine is broken… again.

You grunt and kick the device in frustration. “Stupid, stupid, stupiddd!” You sigh and plant your hands on your hips. 

Nanami walks past the small printing room’s doorway. “Excuse me?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“No, not you, sir. Definitely not you.” You look him up and down.

You take in his thigh-snatching slacks, perfectly form-fitted button-up (showing off his chiseled arms and pecs), and the adorably silly yellow polka-dot tie he likes to wear on Fridays. 

You adjust yourself, looking away, and tug down your skin-tight skirt that molded your curves with shameless precision. 

You motion to the printer, “it’s broken again and I have all this-“

Nanami is already placing his empty coffee mug on one of the vacant desks beside him. He enters the closet sized room. 

“I- I have all this paperwork to copy…” your trail off when you see him motion to you. “May I?” You nod and he rolls up his sleeves and squats inches off the ground. 

Your eyes follow the lines of veins sculpting his very muscular forearms and hands. You can’t help but bite your lip to stop dirty thoughts from forming. 

His thick hands duck and tug at the printer. He grunts and a strand of hair falls in front of his face. Your eyes trail down to his broad shoulders as his back flexes. Oh and that as-

“So, this happens often?” He interrupts your perverted thoughts.

“Oh, ah, yes. Unfortunately, they won’t buy a new one. No matter how much we complain to management.” He looks back at you, giving you an unreadable stare. You look away in embarrassment under his scanning eyes.

You clear your throat and he gets back to rummaging around.

He wipes his hair back but it returns to his face. You step closer to him. You bend down with your hands on your knees.

Near his ear, you murmur, “Actually, you don’t have to do this. I can figure this out. Plus, this is wayyy above your pay grade.”

Nanami was thinking the same thing but to be near you…to smell your jasmine scented perfume, it hits him like a drug.

He clears his throat and faces you, but he’s meet with your chest practically falling from your blouse.

Nanami’s eyes dart away and his cheek flush with a hint of pink.

“Not a worry., who else is going to help you. The whole office scatters the minute the clock hits 5.”

You snort. “Aren’t you usually a part of that group?” You smile and Nanami holds back smirk. “Boss,” you professionally add in. 

“Observant, remind me to put that in your quarterly assessment,” Nanami retorts.

You freeze in fear. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ Nanami rises to his feet and loosens his tie. 

He laughs, “Why are you apologizing? If anything, I try to sneak off before 3.”

You two share a smile.

His attention shifts back to the machine. “Part of the paneling is under there but my hands…” You nod, fully aware of his larger, sturdy make. 

“Can you lend me a hand?” You reply yes with a hum. 

Nanami leans against the wall, leaving space for you in front of him to tighten the rogue piece. You fall on your hands and knees. 

He forces himself to not look down. 

“Got it!” You bounce onto your feet and turn into him. Nanami groans and grabs your waist to hold you steady. 

“You okay?” He whispers. All you can do is mumble into the crook of his neck, “mhm, you?” You tilt your head up to look at him.

You move the loosen strand of his hair and graze your fingers on his face. He draws in a sharp breath. 

You watch him look anywhere but you. Yet, his grip tenses on your waist. 

“Nanami?” You slip out lousy with unusual courage. Your hand slides from his hair to his jaw. You bring him to face you. 

You’re typically not this awkward, shy mess, but around him—your boss—you feel overwhelmed by your attraction for him.

You remember the proud smile he held on his face at that office party. You had just wiped off the lingering taste of your boundary-less coworker and in the sea of shocked faces you saw his.

Nanami leans into the better part of your hand. He breathes you in, “even more delicious than I thought.” He didn’t mean to say that aloud. 

“Huh?” You laugh.

“You think about me, sir?” You flutter your eyelashes innocently. 

He holds your gaze intensely. “You have no idea.” 

That stare was enough to risk it all—management, your Friday night plans, anyone walking in and catching you two. 

Your lips blend together and your tongue slips into his mouth. He groans. 

Lost in the momentum, he flips you both. Your back is against the walk and his hands roams up and down your waist. They linger at your underboob. You bite his lip in anticipation. 

He breaks the kiss. Your chests rise and fall in heated unison. Your tits dare to pop out from your blouse. 

Nanami’s eyes flicker to your lips, dark and aching for more. They slowly lift back to yours, there’s a pull in his expression. Guilt rests in his furrowed brows. 

“I- that was inappropriate.” He shifts awkwardly hoping the blood rushing in his body was just to his dick and not to his face—exposing his true feelings for you.

Reluctantly, his grip on your waist loosens. 

Preoccupied, all you can do is look past him and whisper, “the door, sir” He drops his head and hisses. “Please stop calling me that.” 

You tilt your head, confused. ‘Sir?’ 

“Fuck,” he mumbles out before he fills the gap between you both again. 

He slams his mouth onto yours with his hands on either side of your face. 

“Calling me—“ he kisses you, slow and breathless, “—sir, like it doesn’t— “ another dragged-out kiss, with your lip caught in a gentle bite, “—turn you on on just to say it.” 

He softly sucks and soothes your bitten lip. 

You smile against his wet lips. 

“The- the door…sir.”

He grunts and lifts you up, never breaking your kiss. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist and groan from the slight rip and pain from your resisting skirt. 

He pedals backwards to the door, slamming it shut with a kick of his foot. 

His back hits the wood with a thud. 

You tug at his collar. Swiftly, he turns—your back is now pressed against it. 

He grinds his very hard cock against your abdomen, missing your core. 

You moan and grimace in pain. 

“What, darling?” He whispers against your lips, giving you both time to catch your breath. 

“My—hmph—skirt,” you try to reach behind for the zipper. 

In a blind act of thirst and lust, Nanami rips your skirt from the center down, they hang freely on your waist. 

“Nanami!” You whine. He covers your mouth with wide eyes and smiles. 

“Quiet now, don’t want them getting the wrong idea.” 

You slap his hand away. “You care about that now?” 

He shakes his head no. 

He whispers in your ear, “you’re lucky it’s after hours because I’ve been dying to bend you over my desk...”

He sucks in a breath, “getting you loud and wet for everyone to hear that you’re mine.” 

He stares into your half-lid eyes. “no slapping needed, unless that’s what you’re into.” 

You lick your lips and pull him by his tie, stopping inch away from his lips. 

“Slapping will definitely be involved. Now, enough talking and fuck m-“ Enough words said, your boss sucks on your bottom lip and moans at the taste. 

His hand goes from beside your head to in-between your legs. He rubs at the growing wet spot on your panties. “Mmm,” you moan. 

He breaks the kiss and looks down between you two, his eyes grow darker than they ever have before.

He scrunches and pulls your panties up, rubbing them up and down. “So sticky.” He squeezes your ass with his other hand. 

You buck your hips to his rhythm. He stops his movement, teasing you and your sensitivity. 

He pulls them to the side and gathers your wetness with his fingers. He mercilessly circles your aching clit. 

“Oh god,” you slip out.

A long swab of spit falls from his lips down to your pulsing clit. “Cum for me baby.” 

You nod repeatedly, “I’m clo- so closeee.” 

Up and down, side to side, you grind into his hand. 

He applies pressure. He watches your face contort with pleasure. 

“That’s it, get there for me.” 

You hum. 

“Fuckkkk” you convulse, wrapping your legs tighter around him. His hisses as his chest falls closer onto yours. 

You grind even harder into him, making the most of your orgasm. His head falls onto your shoulder. He bites into to you. 

Your breathing settles and your legs loosen around him. 

He pulls back and looks at you in awe. He keeps eye contact and takes his wet hand to his mouth. 

He sucks. 

“Shit, you’re beautiful.” He pulls you into another kiss.

He gently places you, feet first, to the ground. 

The kiss moves from the door to him against the copier. 

Rippp.

You feel air on your chest when he suddenly tears your blouse open. Buttons fly to the ground. 

“I won’t be leaving here with any wearable close will I?” You manage between kisses. 

He shakes his head no, “have…clothes…in my office…”

He turns you over and pushes you forward. Your exposed chest lays flat on the open copy machine. 

He kicks his foot in between your legs, widening them. 

He slowly drags your skirt zipper down whatever is left of it. It falls to the ground with his unclasped belt and slacks. 

“Your shirt…I need to feel you.” You whine out with your cheek against the glass. 

Happily. he slips off his shirt and throws it to the side, a sight you wish you could see but are willing to wait for. 

You help him pull down the remainder of your top and kick off your panties. 

He kisses down the spine of your back.

His hands slide from your back to your hips then your thighs. You tremble in anticipation. 

He slips a hand between your pussy lips. He grinds down your folds and catches his fingers into your entrance. You jolt. “Please.”

“Please, what?”  He slaps your pussy, not once but twice. 

“Please, sir.”

“Now, that’s my good girl” He soothes your pussy with soft rubs and glides two perfectly curved fingers into your dripping hole. 

“Ngh!” 

In and out, he pistols into you, dragging his body with every rut like he’s fucking you with his cock. 

“I need you ready and stretched.”

He fingers you until you’re whimpering and clenching furiously around his fingers.

“Perfeect, baby,” he praises you as your breathing levels. 

Barely a minute after your orgasm, Nanami grabs his pre-cum covered cock and slaps your pussy. 

You jolt forward into the machine from the sensitivity of your recent orgasm. 

“Mm-mm, come back here,” he pulls you back with a hand on your shoulder and the other leading his dick into you. 

"Yesss," you whimper.

He slides in with one go. “Ahh,” you gasp from the long cock pulsing against your tight walls. 

Nanami hunches forward and groans happily in your ear. He settles, not moving in your hole. 

“Breathe, pretty baby.” He slides his arm around your waist, giving you time to adjust. 

Just as you’re about to whine for movement, Nanami lifts his hips up, pulling his cock out of you and slams back into you.

Over and over, he uses this technique to bottom out. He reaching depths none of your past lovers ever have. 

He fucks your red ass into the printer. Your nipples harden as it grazes onto the cold glass again and again. 

Nanami whimpers into your ear weakly, “Keep milking me…like that.”

You clench down on him. “Wanted this for sooo long, y-you have to knoww that,” you moan out. 

Nanami kisses your cheek and glides his tightened grip around your waist down to your clit. 

“The feeling is definitely mutual, baby.” He sucks your cheek and picks up his pace. 

“Now, let’s see if—fuck—this thing works.” Nanami plunges into you relentlessly as he reaches to the side of the print and presses copy. 

Suddenly a white flash of light scans across the cold surface below you. 

“Ngh!” 

You moan at the friction of your hard nipples and the copy machine. “Kent-kentoo what are you-“ 

He interrupts with a dry laugh. “Mm, I’m going to have to save this for later.”

He slides his slender fingers from your hip through your hair and pulls your head back. 

A clear photo of your perky tits are on display in front of you. “Look at my sexy girl.”

You smile to yourself, enjoying every second of your fantasy come true. 

You push back, meeting his thrust, catching him off guard. 

“Oh my—agh” he involuntarily slips out a grunt. 

He slaps down his hand, and the photo with it, onto the machine beside you. 

He pulls you closer with his hand still wrapped in your hair and sucks on your jaw. 

The wet sounds of your hips smacking into each other fill the room— repeatedly, deeper and deeper. 

His hand drops from your hair and wraps back around your waist. His other hand circles and pinches your clit. 

You yelp and he holds you closer.

Nanami lifts you slightly off the ground, gripping your tits with his other hand. 

“y-your tooo good at this Nanami.” 

He fucks up into you and you hang in his arms. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to be in this pussy.” He’s lost all sanity. 

The only thing that makes sense is that he was made to fill your cunt, until you’re left dripping and shaking. 

With that, he’s back to hitting you right at your soft g-spot. 

“P-pussy drunk—yesss, right there—already,” you grind out.

“S-says the one drooling on me.”

He’s right. A pool of your spit drips from your whimpering lips onto his arm. 

“Mmm, this tight pussy is killing me”

You clench down on his firm twitching dick. 

“shit you’re gonna make me—“

Nanami Kento, your boss of two years, finally did what you both dreamt of— him cumming all over your velvet walls. 

His hips shudder into you, riding you into your second orgasm of the night—that he knows off. 

Using your lunch break to sneak off to your car and vigorously finger your pussy to a shaky orgasm from imaging fucking your boss raw was totally worth this.

Little did you know, Nanami had to step away from a client meeting early that day. 

Seeing you bent over, putting your perfectly framed ass on display, was enough to have him hunched over in his office chair—fisting his dick til it was hard and spent, til he was chanting your name like a prayer. 

“gah umph!” You scream and bite into his arm. 

Your juices mix with his white gooey cum. A sloppy mess slides down his legs. 

His sinks forward, gently removing his arms from your chest and hip. He lays you back onto the machine and rubs circles along your back.

“You’re okay baby, you’re okay.” 

Tears fall from your eyes and you spasm, hips bucking towards the printer. 

A satisfied gasp leaves your lips, “Amazing.” 

Nanami chuckles, “Perfect.” 

He kisses up your back to your neck and then your cheek. 

Your knees and legs start to give out on you. 

“Here.” Nanami picks you up bridal style with no problem and places you  on the top of the printer 

He grabs his button-up and puts your arms through the sleeves. He wraps you comfortably in his scent.  

You kiss his hand as thank you. He turns, hiding his smile. 

He slips on his boxers, pants, and belt. 

“One second,” he breathes out before cracking the door open and slipping through. He brings back a chair and a pair of slacks identical to his. 

He sits you on the chair. One his knees, Nanami slides your legs in the pants one by one. 

He looks up at you with the kind eyes, “my handsome girl.” 

————————-

masterlist

synopsis: your life sucks. so why not place an order with an etsy witch when you have nothing to lose? except, uh, maybe you should've been a little more careful what you wished for when you suddenly end up with two men fighting over who gets to fuck you!

pairing: clingy!superstar x loser!reader x grumpy!boss

wc: 3.5k (part three to this)

content: smut!! fluff, porn with plot, smidges of angst, a win for the etsy witches, awkward + self-conscious reader, THREESOME, heavy jealousy, shy x outgoing, reader in denial, celebrity x normal person, possessive/protective men, men competing over who can fuck reader better lol, fingering, banter, fighting over reader, oral sex (m!receiving), doggy style, double penetration, piv sex, eiffel tower, creampie

PATREON PREVIEW BELOW

“Did I not give you good enough head?” 

You were going to walk out of this restaurant and into incoming traffic. 

Embarrassment burning beneath your cheeks as the intimate dining area around you fell into stilted silence, people starting to realize the man about to have a meltdown was fucking famous.

“What’s this guy got that I don’t?” Your not boyfriend began to huff, twisting you around and tilting your face up so you had to see the pout he knew how to wield like a weapon.

“Can you be a little quieter?” You shushed him, self-consciously looking around as you tried to pretend not to notice the way the other restaurant-goers had started to pull out their phones. 

“But-” 

“I didn’t know we were dating,” you awkwardly muttered, pursing your mouth together as you threw an anxious look back over at your boss, trying to unravel what the hell you’d gotten yourself into before huffing back at the man who was trying to pull you in so physically close that it was bordering on inappropriate in public. “What are you even doing here?” 

“Apparently stopping you from hooking up with some asshole,” he sputtered, and you had to put your finger against his lips to shut him up before he could continue rambling. 

“That’s my boss,” you hissed, or, well, he was your boss. Before this had gotten so confusing. Back when neither of you would have ever bothered to give you a second glance. “Besides, if I knew I was going on a date, why the hell would I text you where I would be at?” 

He opened his mouth just to shut it again, squinting as he looked between you and him, attempting to reassess the situation before you buried your face in your hands to hide from the cameras. 

“So, you, um, weren’t cheating on me?” He clarified, like he really just wanted to hear you confirm it.

“You’re not my boyfriend.” 

“What if I want to be?” He immediately asked, switching gears from wounded puppy dog to an overeager one, pouting so hard you could practically imagine floppy ears falling forward, pleading with those soft eyes meant to persuade you. 

“I’m-” You started, stopping yourself as you searched for a proper excuse. 

A reason to offer him on why you couldn’t be together.

You weren’t meant to be his. 

None of this was meant for you. 

He was supposed to be with a model or an actress or some pretty girl who was splashed on the front pages of magazines. Not a nobody. 

God, even your (former?) boss was too good for you. 

Should be with someone smart and serious and studious, who read nonfiction books in her spare time instead of doomscrolled on her phone and paid Etsy witches when she was miserable and too scared of missing out to put herself out there. 

“Forget about this guy and let me take you home,” your last lover tried to persuade you, pushing the hair back from your face as his eyes slipped down to where your dress was clinging to your body, looking genuinely distraught at the way your cleavage was pushed up. Like he thought that the sight of it should be saved for him. 

“This guy?” Your boss spoke up, standing up and before he even made it two steps, you were twisting away from both of them, hanging your head down as you impulsively hurried out of the restaurant before your humiliation could get captured and shared on the internet. 

This was a mistake.

All of it was.

You should’ve just stayed in your bed. 

Saved your money and continued to spend your nights alone instead of having sex with a stranger and getting sucked into a mess like this. 

“Do you see what the hell you did?” He snapped back at him, scoffing, but his voice was still too close for comfort, not nearly far enough back as he used his unfairly long legs to catch up to you. 

Was running away the right choice? 

Yeah, no. 

But what was the alternative? 

Standing there awkwardly while they bickered over who the better option for you was? 

Avoiding the conversation they wanted to drag you into, the choice they wanted you to make, by pretending neither of them existed was certainly the opposite of mature. But you never said you were.

“Just wait a moment-” 

“Angel,” a warm voice called out after you, but all that did was make you jog faster, shoving the door open and about to start sprinting down the street before you were stopped, spun back around into the arms of a man you didn’t deserve with a big hand on your wrist. 

Panic pounding in your head, a steady stream of thoughts shouting at you to leave as you froze in place.

“Did you seriously just try to run away?” He huffed, brows knitting together as he pouted at you. 

“People were staring and recording,” you excused, although you probably would’ve done it even if it was only the three of you there. 

“We can go somewhere more private,” he readily offered, but your boss was already behind him, scowling at the way he was holding you, his hazel eyes pointedly focused on the grip he had on your arm. 

“You can’t just poach her.” 

What, were you a piece of meat? Some captured wild animal they were arguing over slaughtering? 

Who would get the biggest bite of you? 

“I had her first,” the man beside you insisted, his pretty eyes narrowing, all possessive and protective as he put himself in between you and your coworker.

“I knew her first,” your boss protested. 

“So why didn’t you fuck her?”

FULL FIC ON PATREON HERE (also features a wide assortment of other oneshots/series!)

you swore it would never get to this point.

that what the two of you were doing was just innocent flirting.

(you tried to convince yourself that the forced proximity was the sole purpose for the tension that hung heavy whenever the two of you were alone.)

except that it never was truly innocent in any way.

surely mitsuya didn't mean to lean over you as he instructs you on how to use the operating system—purely coincidental—the way his hand is planted riiiight beside yours, pinkies nearly touching. so close you can feel the warmth of his body, a hint of his cologne wafting over you.

the ghosting of his hand running down your spine, a subtle reminder to sit up straighter.

his index finger tapping your lip the time you accidentally smudged ink on the corner of your mouth, lingering a beat too long to be causal.

mitsuya is a good boss, great even. always kind and patient, even when you screw up. he takes it all in stride, grinning warmly, unaware of how it makes your body heat up several degrees. a bead of sweat dripping down the back of your neck despite the a/c on max, and a wetness between your legs that's hard to ignore.

so tell me how you wound up with your legs slung over his shoulders, trying to stay quiet in the back room of his shop. scraps of fabric and sketches were hastily swept off the top of his workbench, your back thrown onto the mess.

dress shirt rucked half up your torso, red lacy bra peeking through the sheer material—did you think he wouldn't notice? wouldn't stare at how your nipples poked through? they were practically begging for his mouth to clasp around the sensitive bud, to bite n suckle on them. stupid girl.

mitsuya taps his cock against your drenched folds, watching the sticky strings of arousal drip from his tip.

'plap plap plap' like he's knocking before entering—it would be rude not to, because even though he has you folded in half on his desk, mitsuya is a gentlemen first and foremost.

your clit twitches with every rough slap, "haa... hurts—'suya." whining behind your hand as he administers smack after smack.

lilac eyes stare down at your quivering bottom lip, glasses low on his nose, his free hand pulls yours away from that pretty face. "takashi," he corrects, "if you wanna be fucked like a good girl then use my name."

and fuck, the sound of his voice all rough and commanding, has you clenching around nothing.

your voice trembles, a meek whisper of his name. the result is immediate, irises blown wide with lust, thick head of his cock pulsing at your entrance.

both of you moan in sync when he pushes in, "s'fucking tight..." your pussy squeezes, wrapping around his dick perfectly. better than any fleshlight he's ever used.

mitsuya thrusts once, twice, thrice until he's fully seated, nestled deep in your guts like he owns them. you writhe, whimpering at the pressure in your stomach, the burn of your hamstrings being pushed so far back.

he starts a deep, fast pace that shakes the desk, plowing into you with feral need, your shoulder blades dig into the wooden surface, "look at me." he growls, tipping your chin up in a harsh grip—so unlike his usual tenderness. "if you so much as glance away i'll stop."

and he means it. if your eyes flutter shut for even a second too long his hips stop. freezes. waits. resumes only after your tear-riddled eyes settle on him again.

"there she is..." mitsuya coos, kissing sweetly at your ankle. a small reward for behaving so well. he's praising you, yes, but the tone is so snide that it feels derogatory.

the bell to the front door chimes, signaling that there's a customer in need of assistance. but unfortunately help isn't on the way as mitsuya pistons his cock deeper into your sopping cunt, "takashi, maybe we should—" he cuts you off, "you're not goin' anywhere darlin'. not 'til i'm done with you."

a voice calls out, dangerously close to the feeble door the separates the showroom from his office.

mitsuya doesn't care, not when he finally has you under him, moaning like a pornstar and making a creamy mess all over his cock n down his balls.

god, it was so filthy, the lewd slaps of skin on skin, your bliss filled cries of pleasure. the sound no doubt echoing, it only spurred him on. driving into you like your cunt was salvation and he was hell bound.

"taka—right there... s'close." his hands grip your hips, angling them up and hitting your cervix with critical accuracy that breaks you—gummy walls spasming and sucking him in like she was yearning for his cum.

mitsuya pulls out at the very last second, furiously stroking his throbbing cock before hot spurts of cum splatter out. painting his stomach, your inner thighs, and even your face.

"uh..." you both whip your heads towards the door, standing stock still in the doorway is takemichi, having the world's worst timing. "get out!!" mitsuya yells, moving to cover as much of your exposed body as he can. takemichi bolts out, crashing into the coat hanger by the door in his haste, it topples to the floor with a loud 'bang'.

"does this mean i'm gonna be fired?" you ask, a fleck of his seed dripping down your cheek, landing on your ripped blouse.

mitsuya sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "no, but i might have to knock that idiot out." you laugh breathlessly, stealing a quick kiss as you re-button your top.

after locking up the store you climb onto the back of his bike, arms wrapped snugly around his waist, riding off deadly fast to spend the first night of many at mitsuya's.

“Shit.” He says “My meeting.”

You look at him with wide eyes. You forgot the reason you were in his office was to remind him that he has a meeting with new employers. You laugh at his appearance. your lipstick smeared all over his lips, hair ruffled, tie loose, collar on his shirt lifted up and his glasses crooked on his face.

“What’s so funny?” he asks raising a skeptical brow. “You don’t look so great either.” smirk written on his face.

He was right. You hair was messed up, your clothes were wrinkled and there was a big purple mark that he had left on your neck. You grab a tissue off his desk and start to wipe the lipstick from his face.

“I guess we’re even then.” you say

“whatever you say baby.” 

You grab his jaw, turning it ever which way in order to scrub the lipstick off his face. His beautiful eyes lock with yours, making you lose any self control you had left. You give him peck on the lips out of admiration.

“You know what princess?” He ask

“Hm?” You hum in response 

“fuck that meeting.”

Masterlist

📌 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 📌

𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐁𝐎𝐒𝐒 | 𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆 x 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍!𝐘/𝐍

When your control freak married boss is sexually frustrated and on the edge, his spoiled bratty new secretary becomes the only cure for his darkest urges.

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𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀:

Shin Y/N thought this job would be easy get hired through family connections, act like a brat, and get fired fast so she could go back to her spoiled life. But Kim Taehyung, the ruthless married CEO, has been starving for months. His wife can’t handle his rough, dominant needs, leaving him frustrated and dangerous.

Y/N’s teasing and thick, curvy body push him past his limits. The power imbalance turns explosive as the control freak boss finally snaps and claims what’s his.

𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮:

Kim Taehyung (Married, dominant, sexually frustrated CEO) x Shin Y/N (Bratty, spoiled, curvy secretary)

𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑬:

Dark, filthy, tense, obsessive, power play with no morals.

𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑬:

Dark smut, office romance, power imbalance, infidelity, brat taming, CEO x secretary.

⚠️ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒:

🔞 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Infidelity, heavy power imbalance, boss/employee kink, rough sex, manhandling, choking, spanking, brat taming, foot play, public risk, oral (m&f), tit fucking, anal, degradation & praise, bondage (tie), overstimulation, breeding undertones, cum play, voyeurism, explicit dirty talk, desperate married man frustration

Please read responsibly if this content offends you, skip it.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: Ongoing (5 parts planned)

𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 : Weekly follow & turn on notifications

𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓: ❤️ Tip jar & bonus scenes on Ko-fi soon .

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𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑺𝑻 𝑻𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬𝑹:

“You think this is a game, princess?” Taehyung growled, gripping her jaw as he pressed her against his desk. “Parading that thick body around while I go home to a wife who can’t even take half of what I need?”

“Keep pushing me, Y/N… and I’ll ruin you until the only words you know are ‘Yes, Sir.’

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synposis. your boss is drunk, horny and…pathetic?

18+ story | not proofread cause I don’t do that + no word count cause it’s short!! Enjoy

imagining a senior coworker, one who’s always stoic and super serious. but after a drunken work dinner, you found yourself in his car on his lap, writhing down on his bulge. His hands trailing up your side until one catches your breast, cupping it harshly as he plants rough, sloppy kisses all over your neck and jaw.

“Please…”  he begs, his deep voice desperate. It's not the same one he uses in meetings, it’s needy, almost pathetic. You run a hand through his hair as his finger brushes over your nipple softly and you just can't wait anymore, ripping off his belt.

It only takes two motions for him to lift you up, impaling you on his dick as you moan out loud. “Ah, fuck!” his thick veiny cock pushes up into you slowly, his hand gripping on your waist tightly as if he can't handle the feeling of a warm, young pussy. He buries his face in your neck, “Y/N...its too much, wait…s-slow down..” 

Yet you can't. You’ve never felt cock like this, your mind keeps flashing to images of him at his desk. all those times you would ogle him from afar, and now you finally have what you want. His strong hands are all over you, yet you never knew he would be so desperate, pushing his cock into you as far as he can, his hands starting to shake. “im..gonna come like this..” he moans. “I should pull out..”