Can You Please Do A Part 2 Of Pervert Ushijima Where He Just Breeds The Reader?? I Love Ur Works Btw

can you please do a part 2 of pervert ushijima where he just breeds the reader?? i love ur works btw omg

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

read part one first

content warnings: nsfw mdni, heavy breeding kink, DADDY KINK, size kink, use of the word cunny, belly bulge, degradation, BABY TRAPPING, possessiveness

word count: 948

ushijima's dark green eyes were stuck on the wet patch that was right at the front of your track pants, where your cunny sat.

'toshi', you tried to say, but nothing came out, your throat was too sore from the severe throat fucking you had just indured.

you were stood up, facing his much taller and naked body in the empty gym.

his hands came to your waist, feeling you up and down obscenely as his eyes moved onto yours.

'can i fuck you?', he asked, in a monotone voice, hands creeping down to your ass.

an involuntary whine left your lips as you pressed your body closer to his, aching for his touch.

'can i?', he asked again, fingers ghosting over the waistband of your pants.

'i, yes-toshi yes', you stuttered, licking your lips at the feeling of his hands on your bare skin.

he only hummed as he pulled the waistband, bending down as he pulled them down, met with the sight of your sweet panties.

'oh baby', he looked up, only to find you had taken off your jacket, and now your pretty tits were almost fully on display.

he reached behind your back, unclipping your bra quickly, pulling it off your arms as your breasts sagged slightly at the lack of support.

he took a step back, admiring your almost naked body as your cheeks turned peach at all the attention you were receiving from such an attractive person.

he sat back on the bottom row of bleachers, patting his thighs for you to come sit on.

you graciously walked over, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders as you plopped your weight down onto him.

'you're stunning', he said, eyes focused on the ways your nipples perked up at the coolness.

'thank you', you mumbled, licking your lips.

'thank you who', he urged, squeezing your hips.

your eyes peered into his, confusion written all over your face.

'thank you 'toshi?', you said, uncertainty laced in your tone.

he shook his head, giving you a knowing look. you quickly came to the realisation of what he wanted you to call him.

'thank you, daddy', you whispered, your blush spreading from your face down to your neck and armpits.

his lips quirked upwards in approval as he moved his lips onto your neck, sucking lightly as he moved his hands to your breasts to fondle with them.

you gasped at the sensation, arching your chest into his warm hands. ushijima’s hands came down to your hips which were slowly grinding onto his thigh.

he latched his mouth onto your left nipple, tongue flicking over the flushed bud, sucking eagerly.

the sensation of having your nipple sucked on was so beautiful and had your cunt pulsing against his muscular thigh.

‘need you’, you whined in-between moans, hand coming to start jerking him off.

he grunted, bucking his hips up into your grasp. ‘need who, baby’, he grunted, tongue poking between his lips.

you huffed impatiently, rubbing your dripping pussy against his thigh. ‘need you daddy’, you groaned. you quickly slid your panties off, leaving them hanging over your ankle.

his hands which were on your waist hoisted you up as he pushing the tip of his cock to your pussy.

your hips wiggled in anticipation. he let go of your hips, causing you to suddenly sink down on his cock. your eyes widened and found his as involuntary whines stared leaving your lips at the size.

‘daddy!’, you sobbed out, clenching around his massive girth.

wakatoshi had a blank expression, entranced by the sight of you adjusting to his size.

‘you like daddy’s fat cock in your tight little cunt, hm?’, he teased in a low voice, large calloused hands running over your body.

‘ngh, fuck yes! love your cock daddy!’, you cried out, slowly rocking your hips back and forth to give your aching clit some relief.

‘good fucking slut’, he whispered, hands settling on your ass.

as you continued to slowly bounce up and down, ushijima took note on the small bulge that was protruding from your stomach. he curiously placed his hand on it, and yep, it was his cock.

he grew impossibly harder at the sight, his eyes finding your face again. your familiar eyes were clenched shut, and your lips were heavily bitten.

his mind flashed to the sight of korai eyeing your chest, or the one time kageyama had stuttered about how pretty you were.

he growled animalistically, thrusting his hips up. you were his.

‘ushi!’, you sobbed out as he repeatedly hit your g spot harshly.

‘g’nna give you a baby’, he muttered under his breath, arms wrapping around your torso, pulling you closer so your bodies were flush.

‘daddy!’, you cried out. you were not too keen on the idea of being the mother, but you were also not too keen of the thought of toshi’s cock not inside of you.

‘gonna make you a mommy’, he grunted, slapping your ass, making you cry out.

‘m gonna cum!’, you squealed out as your orgasm approached.

‘look at me’, he demanded, dark eyes finding your glossy ones.

‘daddy!’, you cried out, hand coming to rub pathetic circles on your clit as your orgasm took over your body, desperately rocking your hips back and forth.

‘fuck baby’, wakatoshi muttered, snapping his hips forwards as he painted your insides white with his cum.

tears were falling down your cheeks as he slowly slid out, fascinated by the way his cum slid out of your gaping hole.

your forehead rest against his shoulder as you felt him wrap a towel around you, wiping all the sweat off of your body.

‘you were so good’, he mumbled, placing a kiss on your half asleep forehead.

likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

playing hard to get [pt. 3]

premise. he delighted in being the object of your affections. the apple of your eye, your dearest treasure, your one and only darling—

so why aren't you acting like it now?

(or, in which he takes his admirer's love for granted until you decide to play hard-to-get.)

includes. ayato & heizou !

part one. diluc, xiao & childe.

part two. zhongli, albedo & kazuha.

note. i send snippets of wips and post something entirely different. oops. also this is extremely long compared to prior chapters (my favoritism is showing).

ayato dreads arranged marriages. even now, as the yashiro commissioner who understands the importance of forging political alliances, the thought of it is distasteful. presently, he has no person in his heart he'd rather marry, but that doesn't mean he finds the idea of pursuing a loveless relationship agreeable.

so when he first meets you, he's a little surprised. you're fidgety just like he is, but it isn't out of agitated worry; you look excited, can almost be described enthusiastic for the deal.

ridiculous, ayato thinks. you must be one of those shallow people easily wooed by appearances. he knows he's dashing, but he never liked anyone who's only drawn to that part of himself, and he doubts that will change in the future.

(still, as the marriage talk progresses between ayato and your parents, he finds himself distracted by the way you blow on your hot cup of tea, scrunching your nose when it burns your tongue. the moment you notice him staring however, you quickly switch gears and duck your head down in panic, reviewing etiquette lessons in your mind and trying to remember if blowing on your tea is a form of disrespect.)

(cute.)

(no it isn't, what are you thinking.)

ayato doesn't have the free time to afford frequent visits. most of the time, you're the one visiting the kamisato estate, often unable to see him and ayaka receives your presence instead. in the few chances you do catch him in a good time, conversations over tea and pastries are awkward and strained, made even worse by ayato's unwillingness to reply in a sentence longer than five words. he doesn't want you to get any closer to him, and perhaps you'll finally lose interest if he keeps up this charade.

(but sometimes, just sometimes, really, he'll gift you tea leaves he procured from foreign lands. they cost a hefty price, but he always puts a frown on your face, and if they bring back just a quick upturn of your lips, he'll consider it a successful apology.)

yet when you lose interest in him, he isn't very ecstatic.

he should be. you send less letters recently, and your visits to the estate even lesser. there's no attendant knocking on his door alerting him of your presence to interrupt his flow of work, and there's no guest he's obligated to entertain. most importantly, there's nobody he's obligated to marry.

(that doesn't stop him from worrying. doesn't make him feel any better. doesn't make him any less disappointed even when this result was what he was hoping for.)

eventually, rumors start to circulate. they say you're now besotted with a lord in the south, often spotted strolling around together and conversing over shared meals. they say you've fallen out of love for the yashiro commissioner you once begged your parents to let you marry, disillusioned by his stoic nature devoid of affection. they say you much rather prefer the romantic lord gifting you pretty robes and fragrant perfumes, finding comfort in his lavish sweetness opposed to ayato's cold indifference.

for that, he can't fault you at all. this... lord seems to court you properly. what rights does he have to be angry when he's done nothing to deserve your attention? besides, it's a win-win for everybody—ayato doesn't have to go through the arranged marriage he couldn't refuse due to your father's persistence, and you can be wed to a man who's genuinely fond of you, eager to treat you well.

still. still. these irrational thoughts keep plaguing his mind, ugly feelings blooming in his chest when images of you with another man settle in the corners of his subconscious. it's difficult to focus when you could be elsewhere locking hands with someone other than him, cheery laughter spilling from your lips as dappled sunlight makes you glow gold. you could be elsewhere wrapped in another man's embrace, protected from the chilly wind within his heat as he whispers sweet nothings to your ear. you could be...

you could be perfectly happy without him.

ayato hasn't spent much time with you, if at all. you didn't have any meaningful conversations, any beautiful memories you could look back on.

but that was because he didn't give you a chance to. he chose to disregard your existence, deliberately avoided reciprocating your efforts to connect. he didn't see you for who you were, he looked at you as the person he wanted you to be—someone vile, someone shallow, someone easy to despise.

and no matter how many rumors there are reporting how you supposedly begged your parents to establish an arranged marriage between you and ayato, he knew better: you should've been as miserable as he was about it. you never asked to get married either.

at first, he thought you already fell in love with him the first time you saw him; your eyes were sparkling with joy. but now that he thinks about it, perhaps you were just relieved you weren't about to get married to someone twice your age. he looked fairly decent, far from the horrific men you'd hear about disrespecting their spouses when they marry into the family. if it was him, known for his fair ruling in his territory, being married probably wouldn't be too bad.

and ayato had fantastically ruined that impression of himself by being the biggest dickwad possible.

so he hastily makes his move—he sends flowers to your doorstep, writes heartfelt letters referencing love poems. he still doesn't have the time to visit in person, but he gives you jewelry and hairpins he thinks would look good on you and hopes he can see you wearing them the next time you meet. he recalls every piece of information you've shared with him and gifts you books you expressed interest for in the few times you talked, presents you with tea leaves you once told him you wanted to try but haven't gotten an opportunity to due to its rarity.

ayato knows best how rumors tend to exaggerate the subject matter. surely, your relationship with the lord hasn't progressed too far. you've yet to call off the engagement, but ayato shouldn't be complacent either. he should make his intentions clear—he's not giving up on you.

after two weeks of this charade, you rush to the kamisato estate, red-faced and flustered and considerably confused. ayato smiles at the blue crystals adorning your bracelet, familiar with its design. (he picked it out himself, after all.)

“i apologize for my... absence,” you can't find the proper words to say it, gaze flitting from one place to another. you find it difficult to meet his eyes. no matter; ayato finds that shyness cute, too. “i was preoccupied– but!”

your formal tone disappears immediately as you hasten to say, “please don't listen to the rumors about me! i really, really haven't been seeing someone else!”

...???

“i'm very sorry for failing to include in my letters the details about the festival our territory celebrates.” at this, you bow deeply, thus missing the dumbfounded expression on his face, looking incredibly stupid. “in truth, i've been busy with preparations the past month... the lord i've been meeting with is known for the silks his household provides, and we commissioned him our clothes for the festival rites. he's very knowledgeable about perfumes as well, he gave me samples of- oh, i have some on me i thought ayaka might like! of course, i have some for you too, but i can't guarantee you'll like it...” you wince at that, smile turning sheepish. “i did try my best basing off your preferences, but i apologize if it isn't to your satisfaction.”

numbly, he gestures for a servant to accept the gift, fixing his expression into something more blank rather than an obvious display of his thoughts. his very, very messy thoughts, the few he can manage to think amidst the pure shock at the revelation. “i... i see. i appreciate the thought.”

you fidget at his robotic way of speaking, feeling awkward. “did you perhaps... believe the rumors?”

his heart breaks when your voice trails off at the end of your sentence, shrinking to yourself in shame. “absolutely not,” he says. you know, like a liar.

“then that's a relief!” your lips stretch to a relieved smile, punching another spike of guilt to his chest. “i feared you would think lowly of me.”

“ridiculous,” he states, tone unwavering. it takes you slightly aback, and warmth bleeds into his next words, coaxing a deeper red to tint your ears, “i like you a lot more than you think.”

oh, you have no idea.

it doesn't take a detective to know you have a massive crush on heizou.

the way you can't meet his gaze, the flush high on your cheeks, the nervous stutter in your words when you invite him for a stroll around town; heizou would have to be an idiot not to notice. unfortunately for you, he is far from one, so he notices every stare you pin to his figure, every quiver of your lips as you fight back a smile when he looks back, every sign of your elation as he makes his presence known.

and, well. maybe it is a little amusing to watch you squirm. heizou doesn't consider himself a cruel man, but he'd be lying if he said he doesn't enjoy seeing you worked up because of him.

he wonders what you find so charming. pursuing romance has never been a high priority for him, flaunting his appealing traits to potential partners lesser so, and as honorable chasing after criminals can be, he doesn't think anyone would find that attractive in the romantic sense.

more often than not, he's told to be too dedicated in his job, which he would normally take as a compliment, thank you very much, but he does see how it could be a flaw as a spouse. it's pretty much general knowledge he can't guarantee his undivided attention for anyone, even his special person (that he's not very eager to find right now).

once, you commented as such, teasing him he won't be able to get a significant other at this rate. jokes on you—from what heizou can see, you're a willing volunteer now.

before, though, was entirely different. in fact, you couldn't even call yourselves friends until just recently. your interactions were hardly noteworthy, simply exchanging cordial greetings when you ran into each other on the road or sharing the briefest conversations if the situation called for it.

you only became proper friends when you got involved in one of heizou's cases and helped him through it. turns out you were extremely compatible all along, to the extent heizou regretted not befriending you earlier. you're bubbly and cheerful, always making him laugh when you crack the most unexpected of jokes. even in companionable silence, he felt a little brighter and optimistic—you were like a positive ball of sunshine, a great pal to have.

so he received the shock of a lifetime when he first began to notice signs of your budding crush.

your easy-going smiles looked tighter, eyes not quite focused on his face, hands fidgeting behind your back. at the start, heizou thought maybe you did something wrong, or you were hiding something from him...

then you were blushing, asking him if he was free after work. heizou is ashamed to admit his brain had gone completely blank that time, truly empty with the exception of your face flashing in his mind, holy fuck, you're blushing, you've never done that before.

he doesn't remember his response. still can't, even now. but what he does remember is how your face lit up when he said something, eyes sparkly with enthusiasm. you talked about some trendy restaurant that just opened around the block but heizou could hardly hear your explanation over the sound of his heart hammering in his chest. the new revelation had his blood rushing, and he really, really didn't know what to think of you.

weeks later, he finds you cute.

the initial panic wore off and now he enjoys seeing you flail around. you're cute when you're clumsy, tripping over air when you make eye contact with him. you're cute when you get embarrassed, woken up by heizou when you accidentally fall asleep on his shoulder. you're cute when you're shy, stammering as you offer to walk home together.

you're cute, and heizou has to do something about that soon.

not once has he thought to distance himself from you upon realizing your feelings. sure, it felt awkward at the beginning, but if there was something he was certain of, it was that he didn't want to lose you. now, he wanted to be closer than ever, the closest he's ever been to another person.

apparently, you didn't get the memo because you're the one distancing yourself from him.

it's not hard to guess what you're thinking. you're probably getting worried you're being too obvious about your feelings, missing all the blatant signs that point to heizou feeling the same, and feeling the very delayed horror of being rejected.

no, seriously. it's very delayed. you're supposed to be scared first before you think of hitting on someone. all of your concerns are void anyway; heizou has known about your crush ages ago.

you're surprisingly good at hiding. heizou has been missing you by a hair, all of his acquaintances claiming to see you some time around the day conveniently when he isn't present. there are traces of you everywhere, trails from your favorite snack stall to the bookstore you frequent to the flower fields you help take care of, but he could never catch you on time. his frustration is nearly overriding his rationality, even though he knows for a fact putting up wanted posters of your face would be a bad, bad idea.

fine, he thinks. i'll lure you out myself.

and that, he does.

one of the few things he first learned about you is your curiosity; when a mystery piques your interest, you won't rest easy until it's solved. that's why you began to follow him around, watching him dig through secrets and piece together deductions. you have a fascination with the unknown, and heizou knows best how to take advantage of it.

he leaves bait, a simple riddle scrawled on a sticky note posted on your office desk to make you scratch your head. when you take it too lightly and ignore it, he steals your prized hairpin—a birthday gift he gave you a year ago—as a warning. in panic, you provide a correct answer, and the very next day, the hairpin is back on your table, together with a brand new barrette considerably nicer in quality.

the next mysteries continue in a similar pattern; a reward for the right answer, a punishment for the wrong one. he makes you solve puzzles, decipher secret code, unravel riddles—each time, you complain about the work and your determination not to seek out heizou for help chips away, but you've never showed any indication of conceding defeat. you're determined to find the “thief” who's always threatening to rob your possessions if you don't play along his silly games and confront him once and for all.

finally, heizou is finished preparing his greatest puzzle yet—a grand treasure hunt encompassing the entire town. it's a big project involving a large number of people, some of which have probably caught onto his intentions, but heizou wills away his embarrassment; if he lets his shame get to him, then nothing will change.

he's had enough of playing hide and seek.

and as your hand grips the final letter, eyes sweeping over the provocative message, the clock ticks closer to the grand finale—

“i have one last trick; don't worry, if you're lucky, it'll end quick.

beneath the stars, find the treasure by nine. if you fail to catch the prize, i will take back what is mine.”

(a worthless threat—how could he take back his heart that's always been yours?)

lights, camera, action!

premise. in which you get yourself involved in a lot of unscripted drama. (genshin celebrity au.)

includes. xiao, childe, albedo, ayato, scaramouche, thoma & kazuha.

next episode. watch here.

note. i surprised myself with how much plot this actually has.

零 ; you, the typecasted “passerby a”

the path to stardom is an arduous journey, but you've already abandoned your dreams not even halfway down the road.

you are far from the fresh newbie you once were. maybe you hoped to be famous at some point, your name sung in ardent praises and joint with stellar performances, but you've never received major roles that strayed from “classmate b” or “the protagonist's best friend” who only ever appears to give advice.

the closest you've been to getting a main character role is being part of the second pairing of a cheesy romance drama that never became a hit, a series with a generic plot and a bland cast of no name actors.

but you can't deny the spark of hope lighting your heart when you receive word of an audition for an upcoming drama adaptation of a well-loved webtoon series, which you are an avid fan of. it's a murder mystery following a genius detective who strives to solve a serial killings cold case, with snippets of romance and the occasional comedy, grim as the premise may be.

once the drama adaptation was confirmed, it quickly became a hot topic; fans are anticipating the casting and filming crew, expecting nothing short of perfection to honor the brilliant source material. by all accounts, it's big news, and snagging even a minor role would definitely earn you more recognition.

if you're chosen to act as the victim in the first murder, you would already be beyond satisfied—being part of such a masterpiece is enough to make you overjoyed. you don't have too high hopes but there's no harm in trying for the audition, right?

yes. no harm at all.

that's if you don't count the brain damage you suffered when your head slammed against the wall from complete shock as you received an e-mail from the staff confirming your admittance to the project.

as the protagonist's love interest, no less—a journalist investigating the serial murders to enact revenge on their younger brother's stead, the third victim in the killings.

一 ; xiao, the celebrity crush

acting practice is generally considered a casual affair in every project you've taken on, yet you couldn't help but spend hours trying to make yourself look presentable (and avoid looking like a beggar compared to your shining idols when you stand side by side). you may be a tad bit overdressed, but you'd hate to make a fool out of yourself on day one.

except that is exactly what you do. because you're a walking disaster.

in your defense, it's not even your fault! the moment you step foot in the venue, you're ushered by the staff to a row of waiting rooms... without any nameplates attached by the doors and no indication of where you're supposed to go. left with no other choice, you mentally count eeny meeny miny moe and surge forward for the chosen room.

you can't tell if you're tremendously lucky or the most unfortunate person on earth, but you come face to face with a person you never thought you'd see in the flesh.

the thing is, the staff never informed you of your future colleagues. the casting is a well-kept secret, even from the actors themselves, to prevent information leaks to the media before the official announcement.

you really wish you had time to prepare yourself before you had to meet xiao, though.

he's lounging by the sofa, curls of dark hair sprawled on the cushions. his face is obscured by an eye mask, fashioned in a cute design you wouldn't expect him to take an interest in at all. if you took a picture of him right now and printed them as merchandise, you're sure they'll sell like hotcakes, but a selfish part of you wants to keep this sight to yourself.

yes, because... because you've been crushing on him since forever!

you've seen his growth as an actor as far back as five years ago, when he only just started his career! he made the perfect mysterious pretty boy male lead, and the romance film he starred in was such a good classic! but he didn't get typecasted, no no. he went beyond his pretty boy persona to work in other productions, where he acted as the crazed antagonist in a horror movie. that, too, eventually became a classic film for any horror movie fan. his murderous glare is just too damn scary!

he's excellent in action-packed movies as well, there's never a need for stunt doubles with him. you've seen his behind the scene clips, and they're just awesome. he doesn't speak much in interviews, his replies clipped and hardly substantial, but you try to catch each piece of precious footage.

oh fuck i shouldn't be here. you snap back to your senses and reach for the doorknob, but the creaking sound of the door prompts xiao to twitch.

a pale hand drags down the eye mask to his chin, and his dazed golden eyes pin you in place.

“...who are you?”

it's a simple question, but it's like you're trying to prove your innocence to court. you begin to ramble, introducing yourself in a series of stutters, and explaining how you got to his room. you insist you aren't there to peep on him and it was a complete accident.

“...so you entered my room by mistake,” xiao summarizes your ten paragraphs-worth of explanation into a single concise sentence. he doesn't look angry, but doesn't look pleased by your presence either. “it's fine. i could guess the staff was too busy to show you your room.” he sits up properly, fixing his hair messy from his nap. “you're the journalist, right? i look forward to working with you.”

rather than a job, filming feels more like a reward. you get to see xiao everyday, get to talk to xiao even if it's just you commenting on the weather, get to eat with him in lunch breaks (you're seven seats away from him but that counts, right?) and get to act alongside him-

(the makeup artist is always wondering why you look so red on screen when she swears she didn't put much blush on you, though.)

and xiao is the second male lead. you get to act romantic scenes with him. you get to act lovey-dovey with xiao in a police uniform because he's a policeman in this show. each brush of your hands together sends your heart racing in a speed too fast to be healthy, but as an actor, you're expected to keep your composure and deliver your lines properly.

“don't you need to ask something of me?”

you blink innocently as you peel off the heavy costume, the last scene for the day finally wrapped up. xiao must be feeling hot too because he's also wearing a huge coat in the middle of summer—his face is beet red.

“ask you for something...?” your cheeks burn bright. “oh no, was i too obvious?”

xiao awkwardly looks away. “you could say that.”

how mortifying! you fan your face, hoping your makeup isn't too melted. you already feel like an idiot, no need to look like one.

but xiao already thinks you're stupid. no turning back now.

“o... okay... since the cat is out of the bag, then...” you pull out a pen and a piece of paper, holding it out to him. “please give me your autograph!”

“...what.”

“i've been your fan for the last five years! i don't know who ratted me out, actually i'm about 87% sure it's childe, but since you know-”

“wait- what? five years?”

“.........if that's not what you're talking about, then what is?”

“no, i thought you wanted to ask me ou-”

he seals his lips at the most crucial moment, horrified at himself. “sorry. i'll ask you another time.”

... and then he walks away. just like that.

“xiao, what about my autograph?!”

“forget it!”

“why all of a sudden?!”

二 ; childe, the scandal magnet

notorious for the massive number of scandals under his belt, it's a surprise to find ajax (with a stage name of childe) in the set of this major production. you're advised by your manager to steer clear of him and avoid unnecessary contact to prevent sullying your reputation, but you can't deny his acting prowess—he shines on the stage, a performance you can't tear your eyes away from.

he's incredibly versatile, capable of taking on any role and absorbing the character to make it come to life, almost as if he is its incarnation.

it starts as a simple game before actual practice, each actor asked to draw lots from pieces of paper scribbled with different roles, and given an accompanying script to base off of.

everyone laughs when childe, ironically enough, draws the “womanizer who cheats on his lover.”

unfortunately, you couldn't laugh along with them because you picked the “lover” role. your incredible (read: atrocious) luck astounds you.

it goes just about as well as everyone expects it. childe, seemingly in his element, plays the part of a perfect scumbag. it's easy to hate him like this, all flamboyant gestures and empty promises of “you are my one and only.” his performance inspires you to try harder, and so you raise your voice, your passionate screams of indignance almost sounding heart-felt, like you truly are experiencing a severe betrayal.

when childe sweeps you into his arms, whispering platitudes dripping with honey, you're nearly fooled into forgiving him.

it's hard to get yourself out of the role when the director ends the scene, satisfied with the act. childe's expression returns to its usual lazy grin, a far cry from the smug smirk prior, and he pats your head to wake you up. “nice work. i really felt like i was getting scolded by an angry girlfriend.”

dazzled by his brilliance, you barely have enough coherence to return the compliment.

your awe doubles when he performs his next act.

much to xiao's horror, he picks the “dying younger brother” role, a direct accompaniment to childe's “grieving older brother.” they make an... interesting pair, but they're also professionals, and the scene they perform almost makes you weep real tears.

xiao lays limp on the floor like a lifeless doll, and childe cradles him to his chest, delivering his lines with sobs and cries that sound too real to be an act. his heart-wrenching wails bounce from the walls, going straight to strike your heart. his voice cuts through the air, demanding your attention, as if telling you to keep your eyes on him and to never look away.

it's nothing like the sleazebag character he was playing twenty minutes ago, and you have to remind yourself your scripts are only given once you've drawn lots; he had a maximum of five minutes to read through it, process the information, decide how to deliver his lines, and visualize himself performing it in the best way possible.

like this, he doesn't look at all like the scandalous man everyone makes him out to be. he's just an earnest man who's good at pretending to be someone else.

it's terrifying to think about. did he ever act like his true self when the cameras stopped rolling, then? was he just playing the part of a “good co-worker” when he was talking to you earlier? was the whole “scandalous womanizer” image something he set up for himself? a reputation he deliberately made to attract the media's attention? it isn't unusual for actors to cause drama as a publicity stunt, after all.

no, that doesn't make sense. no matter how desperate, nobody would like bad rumors circulating about them. as much as your name is spread around, it also goes hand in hand with distasteful gossip. childe is plenty famous, even before the scandals began popping up, so he never really needed them and they would only further ruin his image...

...on the contrary, if there's anyone getting famous from those scandals, it's...

...the girls he supposedly hooked up with?

rather than making those scandals for fame, doesn't it make more sense if those girls fabricated stories and took advantage of his reputation?

it's no secret that meddlesome paparazzi and hardcore fans obsessively pry into celebrities' personal lives. if they sniff a hint of dating scandals, they don't stop digging. furthermore, once the media releases information to the public, people will take it as fact. in actuality, it doesn't matter what's true or not; what the public wants to believe becomes the “truth.”

if the people deemed it plausible, if they thought “childe would definitely do something like this, so of course if the girl says they hooked up in the dressing room, they did”...

...even if childe denied those claims, nobody would believe him. not even you. you didn't think about it until now. in fact, at the very beginning, you already had assumptions about him, devouring the media's lies.

childe laughs when you apologize to him. it was certainly a shock when you suddenly knocked on his door, then the instance he opened it, you began to bow deeply, nearly slamming your forehead to his chest.

“i'm used to it, don't worry.” he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “you were so stiff around me, it was pretty obvious what you thought of me. but you didn't have to apologize.”

“no, i do! i was being disrespectful!” you insist, taking him by surprise when you grab the lapels of his jacket. “you're nothing like what they say! i'm sure you've been through a lot just because everyone keeps saying whatever they want, without thinking of your feelings... and everyone laughed that one time we played the acting game... i... i can't take back the time i've spent being suspicious of you, but i want to change that!” you stare directly at his widened eyes, determined. “i want to know you better, ajax!”

the use of his real name stuns him and for a moment, all he can do is gape at you.

then he narrows his eyes, his lips shaping to a firm line, and he tugs you inside the room.

a yelp unwittingly escapes your mouth when you're pressed against the door, his arms caging either side of you. his expression is unfamiliar now, unlike anything you've ever seen before; uncharacteristically stern, harsher around the edges, spiteful gaze boring holes into your skull.

“you want to know me better... some pretty words you just said. what do you actually want?”

your breath hitches when his hand caresses your cheek, but the striking glare he's giving you makes you think he wants to sink his nails deep into your skin instead.

“this isn't the first time someone tried to approach me, you know. what, you want to be friends with me? you're going to ask if i can invite you to my house? then you're going to tell people how i took advantage of you while you were sleeping?”

“what- no! of course not!” you yell, face heating up just by the thought of it. “nevermind lying to the media, i don't have the guts to sleep over a guy's house i barely even know!”

his expression falls to a deadpan. “oh. my bad. you're quite pure, aren't you. of course you wouldn't.”

“that's what makes you believe me?!”

the arms caging you falls to his sides as he walks away, leaving you dumfounded. “right, right, sorry for scaring you. can't you let me off easy? it's pretty hard to trust someone when you're in my position. if i treat you to dinner, will you forgive me?”

“i... i came here with good intentions... now i feel as though i was harassed...”

his usual smile falls on his face, like he's a completely different person from the man who trapped you just seconds prior. “what do you think about seafood? i'll let you eat as many crabs as you like. i really am sorry, promise. if you were saying the truth earlier, then i'd be glad to know you better too, [name].”

you give him a look. “...if they saw us entering a restaurant together, wouldn't that attract rumors?”

“hm? is everyone so narrow-minded they think anyone who eats together is in an illicit relationship?”

the answer is no, so you eat as much crabs and shrimp as you want to your heart's content. you're getting your food's worth for that fright he caused earlier. childe isn't complaining anyway, only impressed with how much dishes you're practically inhaling.

in any case, it isn't a date. there is no ambience or heart-pounding romance of any sort. not when you're overtly taking advantage of his money and childe's taking ugly pictures of you mid-bite.

but then, of course, the media takes note of it; the topic of your outing is brought up at an interview, to which you fret and panic because you were never popular enough to be interviewed before, and they're asking if you're fucking childe, of all things-

“what are you talking about?” childe pops up behind you, unhelpfully wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if he wants to add fuel to the fire. he chuckles, tilting your chin to lean closer to his face. “i'm just pursuing [name]. nothing's happened yet. unless [name] wants to...”

you take it back. he's definitely at fault for having this many scandals.

三 ; albedo, the male lead

the first day of rehearsals, the protagonist of the drama isn't even there.

to your astonishment, nobody complains about it. twenty minutes into practice (most scenes skipped due to the protagonist's absence), the director gets a call and excuses himself outside. less than a minute after, he informs everyone the star of the show won't be able to make it.

the actors trade unsure looks, wondering what the hell is going on, but the rest of the staff remain unfazed. the director notices and explains, “it's albedo. his busy schedule can't be helped. his manager called me to let me know his flight got delayed.”

and then it makes much more sense.

albedo is well-renowned in the film industry, an extraordinary talent who first came into showbiz three years ago. it's not at all a long time, but it's long enough for him to receive countless awards and bountiful movie offers—he was just born for the stage. if anything, this drama is lucky to have him in it, not the other way around. a late arrival for a rehearsal is nothing. he could probably disappear for two months without telling anybody and when he comes back, the director would beg him to act for the drama for twice the pay. (an exaggeration, but you get the point.)

and... you're expected to partner with him? you? a speck of dust compared to the sun that is albedo? you have to match his brilliance and not look like a turd beside him on screen? you have to be equals with him and- and you actually get to- you get to hold hands with him, kiss him, and- those couple stuff? everything? his fans would murder you if your mother doesn't kill you first! you know she likes his movies a lot!

the fourth day of rehearsals, he finally comes to the set. not with an air of arrogance or excessive pride. he just exudes confidence, strutting to the room in an elegant poise you can't hope to replicate. he gives his sincere apologies for the inconvenience to the staff, all polite bows and offer of recompense.

“but there's no reason to worry,” he declares, gaze steely. “i won't make any more trouble for you.”

he refuses when the director suggests taking it slowly and instead goes straight to practice. but it doesn't look like he needs any of it at all.

as if he's been here all along, he falls into place with the other actors, not a single awkward pause in their scripted conversations and everything smooth sailing. he delivers a flawless performance, like the cameras are already rolling and he's practiced for tens of thousands of times already, not read through a portion of the script in the car ride towards the set.

there is one thing he's struggling with, however.

“you're too stiff with each other,” the acting coach comments, frowning slightly at the two of you and cutting the scene short. “rather than bickering, it's like you're actually arguing, and that's not what we want to portray.”

you blink, exchanging a look with albedo, and look down at his collar you're still gripping.

maybe you do look like you're trying to strangle him instead of pulling him closer to your face for some good ol' sexual tension.

originally, the characters you play didn't get along well in the beginning of the webtoon; the genius detective didn't like to rely on others, conceited enough to believe he can solve the case on his own, hence seeing the journalist as a hindrance since they kept pestering him to let them help him, and he help them in turn so they could work together. the detective didn't deem them “useful” for the investigation, and it was only much later that he (begrudgingly) admitted the journalist can be helpful... sometimes. thus officially starting their partnership for the investigation, and later on, partners in the romantic sense.

there were quite a lot of bickering scenes before the actual romance commenced, and you're struggling with finding a delicate balance to that—where exactly do you draw the line between petty squabbles and severe disputes? how do you show the chemistry between these two characters while butting heads in every instance? the enemies to lovers trope is harder to act than it seems.

“try to get familiar,” the director suggests. “you're stiff because you don't know each other well. you're too shy to touch or get closer. why not leave early and go on a little date by yourselves to fix that?”

“is that really okay...?” you say, unsure. besides being hesitant to leave earlier than the rest, you're also nervous to be alone with your co-actor.

“if he says it's fine, then it's fine.” albedo shrugs, starting to walk towards the dressing room and tugging you along. “but if we're going outside, we should wear disguises. it's also fine if we borrow some of your clothes, right?”

“of course, of course~” the director indulges him. “have fun, kiddos.”

as it turns out, albedo is a master of disguise. he doesn't even have a wig or anything but you almost can't recognize him clad in casual attire. he also almost looks like a stylist while figuring out what outfit to give you, and you're left in awe when you look at yourself in the mirror wearing clothes you wouldn't normally pick out yourself but they look really, really good on you, and they do a good job changing your image too. not that you think anybody would recognize you anyway, unpopular and all.

“where do you want to go?” you trail after him on the way to the bus station, always a step or two behind. albedo makes a humming noise, subtly slowing his pace to match your strides.

“why not just go wherever our feet takes us?” he pipes up. “as long as it's not teeming with people, of course.”

so with zero preparation at all, you do just that. you stop by a bookstore, with you showing him around the comics section and him adamantly insisting the plain hard-cover literature he's picking up is a thrilling epic that will definitely pique your interest, [name] stop yawning-

you pay a visit to the arcade, where you find albedo is clumsy with his feet and can't play dance dance revolution to save his life, but also unnecessarily adept with claw machines because he has a little sister who loves getting stuffed toys. you compete over who gets the most points in the basketball game to decide who pays for dinner, end up in a tie, and move on to a zombie shooting game. you win by a narrow margin and albedo tells you so, but you point a finger at the results and tell him to cough up the cash. then you play around in the photo booth using the craziest filters, and you take the liberty of pasting stickers everywhere.

dinner is a simple affair. albedo looks ready to go to some michelin star establishment but you introduce him to a sushi restaurant that's relatively cheap. he's impressed by the way you swipe at the conveyor belt so quickly. okay, so you may look like an utter glutton right now, but it's fine. not the first time you embarrassed yourself in front of a co-actor.

lastly, you stop by an ice cream shop to get gelato. your appetite is “awe-inspiring,” as albedo put it, but you argue there's always room for dessert.

“will this actually help us, though...?” you sigh, eating a spoonful of gelato. “i don't understand the difference between bickering and arguing.”

“we've done it the whole day,” albedo reminds you, using a tissue to clean the residue of cream on your cheek. “we'll do just fine.”

you stare at him in disbelief. “...is this also one of your habits from taking care of your sister?”

“ah. you could say that.”

just as albedo said, filming goes a lot more smoothly. the playful air is a huge improvement compared to last time when they said you looked ready to beat him to submission. the romantic tidbits are coming along well, too, spun between action-packed scenes where you're pressed against albedo in a slim locker to hide from the murderer lurking nearby or sweet slice of life moments outside of the investigation.

at last, the confession scene is upon you. just a while back, the two main characters got into a full-blown argument; the detective was irritated by the lack of progress in the investigation, and deduced his feelings were distracting him. he decided to keep the journalist at arm's length, never allowing them to go close. of course, they didn't react well to this, and so they pester him again, but the argument became heated and it eventually peaked to “you're an inconvenience to me!” which led them to separate ways.

the journalist, desperate to solve the case on their own, approached people who seemed to be in the know. they were nearly pulled into bed by an attractive yet suspicious man, who's genuinely interested in the journalist romantically and used intel on their younger brother's murder as leverage, but they get interrupted by the detective pounding on the door.

he dragged the journalist out, thoroughly upset at the notion of selling themself, but they deny the accusations and claim they were tricked.

the argument stretched longer, the both of them airing out everything they dislike about the other, but the detective accidentally slipped and confessed his real feelings. the journalist, who never thought of him that way, was frozen on the spot.

it's a long scene requiring much preparation. aside from the amount of lines you have to memorize, there's also a hotel suite you have to borrow for the shoot, the cameras they need to set for the “dragging” scene that has a lot of movement, the really awkward half-bedroom scene you have to act with your co-actor, and the fact that you have to take the confession scene before the sun completely set.

it's truly a busy day. anxiety plagued you the moment you came out of the makeup room, knowing what comes next.

but it's a job, and one especially you couldn't afford to slack on. the kind-of-but-not-really-bedroom scene goes without a hitch, but albedo interrupts you a tad bit too early; the top of your shirt is barely unbuttoned but he's already storming in, ripping you out of the other man's grasp.

the director doesn't chide him for it however, and he drags you out of the hotel as planned. you're a bit frazzled by the suddenness of it all, clothes still rumpled, but it adds on to your acting and your stuttering questions make the scene look more natural.

albedo's fury seeing you in such a disheveled state seems almost genuine, too.

“why are you acting like this?!” you pull your wrist away in an effort to make him let go, as described in the script, but albedo refuses to. an improvisation, perhaps? but now of all times...? “you didn't care about me before! are you trying to be nice now? didn't you say you were sick of putting up with me? you hated me for being stupid, right? guess what, then! i was stupid enough to get almost taken advantage of! if you're just going to lecture me, let go. i don't want to hear any of it. i already know how much of a fool i am.”

you're supposed to back away now, but he doesn't let you do that either. for one step backward, he takes two forward, nose nearly brushing with yours in the close proximity. your face heats up in a combination of confusion and embarrassment, your ears barely registering his lines.

“...never listen to me. you always go off on your own and i still think you're a reckless idiot. you're noisy and brash and you annoy me to no end,” he says in one breath, staring deeply into your eyes. “but seeing you with someone else annoys me even more. to the point i'd abandon everything just to get you back.”

“w...” your throat is incredibly dry. “why would you...”

“whether i like it or not, you've become important to me. i love your stupid laugh and your stupid smile. i love the way you look at me, and i don't want you to look at anyone else. you drive me crazy when you put yourself in danger because i don't want to lose you. i want you so badly that i want you to only think about me, spend time only with me, only love me. i-”

you're fairly certain this is nowhere near his lines in the script.

“i love you so much that it scares me.” his voice trembles as his hand lifts to cup your face, something that finally bears semblance to the original scene. “it was wrong of me to say those horrible things. not just last time. i've been terrible to you, and no amount of apologies can make up for it. but i ask only one more chance.”

his finger hovers at the corner of your lip.

“[name], won't you only look at me?”

you gape like a fish out of water, unable to reply. you're trying to remember your lines, flipping through the mental script in your head, but the director's “cut!” pulls you back to reality.

albedo blinks, getting himself out of the role, and he lets go of you reluctantly, the heat of his fingers lingering on your skin.

“the scene was good, but you said the wrong name.” the director laughs. “it's alright. we can still shoot where we last left off. return to your positions.”

as told, you go back to your previous position. you give a furtive glance at albedo, whose cheeks flare in humiliation. he's probably never done such a rookie mistake before. there's no reason to be that flustered about it; you've made the same error plenty of times.

“i apologize. i won't do it again next time.”

(if he's going to confess, the least he can do is make his own lines for the occasion.)

next episode ; watch here. preview →

四 ; ayato, the cannon fodder

五 ; scaramouche, the best friend

六 ; thoma, the former male lead

七 ; kazuha, ???

bestfriend!suna thinks about you every damn day even though you don’t see each other as often now that he’s playing for a pro team. he makes sure to text you everyday so you don’t forget about him. and when he comes back home during off season he is practically your shadow.

bestfriend!suna realizes he is tired of pretending when he sees you with another guy for the first time. he knows it’s a totally dick move to confess his love when you’re with someone so he waits until you break up with your little boyfriend.

bestfriend!suna gets the call that you’ve dumped the loser and he immediately drops everything and races home. he stops by a convenience store to pick up your favorite snacks and drink. you’re shocked when you open your front door to see him but let him in anyway.

bestfriend!suna spends the night watching your favorite movies. he carries you to your bed when you fall asleep and he retreats to the couch. the next morning you wake up to breakfast and he casually asks if you’re ready to be his.

after a few minutes of processing that he’s actually serious, a grin breaks out on your face.

challenged

Naruto Uzumaki/F!Reader/Sasuke Uchiha

summary: a proposition offered, a challenge accepted, a sweet girl getting exactly what she wants. Part two to this post

word count: 1k

WARNINGS: infidelity, incest, established dd/lg, use of “princess”/”little girl”, double penetration, anal, breeding, mdni

A week goes by before Sasuke sees Naruto in his home again. Their wives were both leaving for a two week girl’s trip, and Naruto had volunteered to drive them to the airport, which had the blonde coming in as Sasuke watched his daughter receive a lecture from her mother about not being a hassle for her father. 

“She left these in my car yesterday,” Naruto mumbles to Sasuke, pulling something out of his pocket and pressing it into Sasuke’s palm. “You can either cum in these like you have been all week or cum in her to get her ready for when I get back.”

“What are you saying?”

“That you look at her the same way I do, and I’m telling you that you can do something about it. I don’t think you will though.” The challenge makes Sasuke’s jaw tick, because of course he wanted to do something but this was his daughter they were talking about. It wasn’t right. “She wants you just as badly, you won’t even need to ask permission. You can just take her.”

Then they return your attention to you and your mother, who is now walking towards them with a smile on her face while thanking Naruto for the ride to the airport. A kiss goodbye is given to her husband before she’s out the door, and Naruto sends a little wave your way before he’s following and shutting the front door behind him. 

Leaving Sasuke with you, his pretty little daughter in a cute little orange sundress - a dress likely picked out for Naruto since you knew he’d be coming back to hang out. His pretty little daughter with a look in her eye he could only describe as mischievous, as a pink tongue sticks out to wet plump pink lips. 

“What are we gonna do with mom gone, Papa?” you ask, and his fist tightens around the fabric in his hand as he considers his options. He could keep it the way it should be, ignoring the way you bat your eyelashes at him and instead wait for Naruto to return and keep you occupied. Or he could act on his urge and take you the way he’d been thinking about since you’d developed a more womanly figure - take you the way Naruto had been, the way Naruto had wanted him to indulge in. 

“I’m gonna show you how much I love you.” The decision was made, your eyes light up and he’s closing in on you faster than you can process his movement. His kiss was electric, his mouth almost devouring yours as his hands cupped your breasts. Your little mewls into his mouth as he pinched your nipples through the flimsy fabric were so cute, he wanted more of those cute sounds. He’d kept his hands to himself for so long, but now he didn’t have to and he was going to indulge in all of your cute sounds.

When Naruto returns to the Uchiha household he’s thrilled to hear the sounds of his princess wailing for her Papa and begging to be filled by him. He’s even more overjoyed to see that they hadn’t even left the living room - Sasuke had his sweet little daughter on the floor in the living room, still wearing the orange dress but folded in half in a perfect mating press as her half dressed father pounds into her. Sasuke hadn’t even heard him approach, but he loves the way his princess looks up at him over her father’s shoulder and squeaks out, “Hi Daddy!”

“Hi Princess,” he greets, looking to Sasuke when the Uchiha looks up at him. “Feels great, doesn’t she? Nice and tight, squeezin’ ya just right?”

“My little girl feels perfect.” The compliment has you squeezing around him again, pulling a groan from your Papa as he continues to fuck into you. “Gonna cum again?”

“Uh-huh.” Your little whimper has Nauto grinning, moving to sit on the couch so he can stroke his cock as he watches the scene in front of him. You always looked so cute when you were close to cock drunk, not sure where to look but knowing those eyes needed to be open if you were going to get to cum. “Papa feels so good, Daddy.”

“I told you he would, Princess. Show me how pretty you are when you cum for your Papa.”

And you did, fingers grasping your Papa’s shirt as he slows his pace to fuck you through it carefully. You looked so pretty as you looked up at Sasuke, mouth open as you while you pant as your body gradually relaxes back onto the floor. 

“What’s up with the plug?” Sasuke asks, looking up at the relaxed Naruto. “Or rather, what’s your plan?”

“My plan is whatever my princess wants it to be. She wanted to fuck her Papa, I wanted to make it happen. The plug was there because she wanted it there.”

“You let a little girl run the show?”

“A good Daddy sets his baby up for success. Now, Princess, what’s the plan?”

“Want you both, Daddy,” you mumble, and Naruto grins as he sits up to pull his shirt off. Sasuke pulls out when you try to wiggle away, and Naruto barely has his pants off before you’re in his lap with your mouth on his. Sasuke is entranced by the way the pretty pink plug moves as you wiggle in Naruto’s arms, loves the way Naruto intentionally spreads your cheeks to give a better view while you’re whispering in his ear. 

“Gotta tell your Papa that, Princess,” Naruto teases, carefully lowering you down onto his length as you whine. “Use your words like a big girl.” 

“Papa,” you start, looking over your shoulder to see your Papa still sitting on the floor. His eyes move from your plugged hole to meet your gaze, and he smiles when you reach out for him. “Will you fuck my ass while Daddy puts a baby in me?”

“I’d be honored.”

Summary: You get stuck in an elevator with the person you possibly hate the most. . . Ushijima Wakatoshi.

Trigger Warning: unprotected sex, trapped in an elevator, language (?), arrogance, smut without a plot, not proof read, **aged up character(s)**

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Found this bad boy from my old blog in my google drives. I hope you guys enjoy the bread *muah*

**minors. and ageless blogs do not interact**

Things literally could not have ended up worse. There you were, trapped in an elevator with the ultimate douche bag: Ushijima Wakatoshi. Why the hell did he have to be so blunt all the time? Or so cocky? Has this man never heard of being humble? 

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the elevator wall far from said douche bag. You huffed in annoyance for the uptenth time, earning another pointed glare from Ushijima. 

“Huffing won’t make the elevator work, Y/N,” he stated matter of factly. 

You rolled your eyes. “It seems it won’t make you disappear either,” you retorted, a bit of bite to your tone. 

Ushijima stared down at you and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the look he was giving you. It seemed to be a mixture of annoyance and something else..? His features were hard, but his eyes were soft.

You tore your eyes away from him, not wanting to see him look down at you for god knows how long you’d be in this elevator. You pulled out your phone for some company, only to find zero bars. Great, just what you needed. Tense silence with a man you hated. 

You huffed again. How the hell had you gotten into this situation? Oh. That’s right. The both of you were on your way to a dinner party with the team. You weren’t the manager or anything, but you helped out a lot since your uncle was the coach. 

When you arrived in the parking garage, you opted to take the elevator up since you weren’t too keen on walking up stairs in heels. That’s when Ushijima showed up. He passed the elevator and had done a double take. You could tell he was debating on whether or not he should join you, and, before the doors could close, he stepped inside. 

You mentally cursed yourself for not pressing the closed door button as you adjusted your champagne slip dress. True, it was only a dinner, but your uncle had chosen one of the fanciest restaurants in town and the occasion was black tie. You assumed there would be some sort of after party once the dinner was over. 

You stole a glance at Ushijima, looking him up and down. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good in that suit. He looked very good. Instead of wearing a basic white button down with his suit, he wore a black turtleneck. You subconsciously bit your lip as your eyes trailed over his toned arms that were very noticeable in his dressing. Your eyes trailed up and met his gaze and you quickly looked away, red dusting your cheeks. You saw him smirk from your peripherals and you scowled. Of course he would be a douche about catching you checking him out. 

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” he asked after a moment of silence. 

“Yes,” you answered, not daring to look towards him. 

You heard him grunt and shuffle. “Why?” he questioned. You heard him step towards you and you tensed up. 

“You’re a douche bag. You only care about yourself and you think you’re so much better than others,” you answered. The more you spoke, the more angry you became. “You’re so cocky and rude and...and arrogant! And for what? You’d be a lot more attractive if you just were a bit more humble!” Your breathing was ragged, your chest heaving. You were fully looking at him now, your eyes boring into his olive orbs. 

You searched his face for any sort of emotion. He was frowning and his eyes were no longer soft. Instead, they were dark and roamed down your body. 

“Is that what you truly think of me?” he asked, the question coming out low and soft. 

“Yes,” you breathed, sticking out your chin. 

He shook his head. “I don't mean to be so arrogant. I know my talent and my worth, much like you, Y/N…” he trailed off. “Please forgive me if I’ve made myself unbearable.” 

You only just realized the lack of space between the two of you. Your chest was brushing against his with every breath you took and your faces were mere inches away from each other. You looked down to his lips, your mouth salivating at the thought of kissing him and having your way with him in this elevator. You snapped back to reality, shocked at your lewd thoughts. 

You pushed him away, growling softly. “Oh shut up! Don’t try and be nice now—god what the fuck is your problem?! You—you’re so—URGH!” 

You crossed your arms over your chest and shoved yourself in the corner of the elevator, breathing heavily. You were so worked up and you had no idea why. Why was he getting you so angry so easily? You dared take another glance at him and instantly regretted it. You were met with another smirk, this time wider. 

“I’m what?” Ushijima asked, stepping closer to you. 

You shook your head, a lump forming in your throat. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, least you say something you’d regret. You instinctively backed further into the corner, looking anywhere but him. You could feel him looming over you--his eyes boring down into you. You shifted your stance, feeling suddenly small and heated. Why...why were you so heated? 

“I’m. What?” he repeated, smirking a bit. He stepped even closer to you, tracing your jaw with a finger and tipping your chin up to look at him. “Look at me,” he ordered. 

Your eyes flicked up to him, his words making your core throb. You cursed yourself for deciding not to wear underwear, feeling your wetness drip down your thigh. You examined his features, your eyes tracing over his eyes, then his lips. You wanted to kiss him so bad...to feel his warmth on you and his cock in you. Subconsciously, you puffed your chest out to show off your cleavage. You noticed his eyes trail down to your chest, then trail back up, stopping at your lips. 

“Truly, you’re such an infuriating woman,” he admitted, cupping the back of your neck and placing his lips on yours before you could respond. 

You stood there, shocked, but quickly kissed him back. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling your hips flush against his. You let out a small gasp as you felt his hardness against you, the movement of your lips allowing Ushijima to slip in his tongue. He pulled you closer, his large hands settling on your ass, the fabric of your dress barely guarding you from his warmth. Ushijima squeezed your ass, pulling you even closer. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” Ushijima murmured against your lips. 

Your eyes flickered up to his, your hands trailing down his chest and to his belt. He watched you fumble with the buckle and helped you pull his trousers down. His bulge seemed bigger now that he was only covered with his boxer briefs. You stroked his length through his boxers and palmed him, eliciting a soft groan from Ushijima. God, you really didn’t want to get dirty in an elevator, but at this point, your cunt was practically begging for it. 

Ushijima grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from his crotch and swiftly picking you up. He gripped your thighs and pinned you up against the elevator wall, his lips attaching to your neck. He sucked on the sensitive spot on your neck, earning a small moan from you. The position you were in caused your dress to hike up your thighs, your pretty pussy on display for Ushijima. He trailed his fingers down over your folds. 

“You’re so wet already,” he mumbled, pecking your lips. “All this for my cock?”

You huffed, your chest puffing out again. “Well what if it was?” you asked, pursing your lips. 

Ushijima let out a deep chuckle, pushing past your folds and softly circling over your clit. Your hips bucked up and you moaned, throwing your head back. His lips attached to your neck once more, adding a bit more pressure to your clit. 

“U-Ushijima, please…” you whined, rolling your hips up. “The elevators can be fixed at any--HAH!” You were interrupted by a loud moan as Ushijima eased his cock inside you. 

Ushijima was a tall man, his features larger than most, but you hadn’t expected his cock to be this big. As he pushed himself deeper inside you, you felt every inch of his cock stretch you out. You gripped his biceps, your nails digging into the fabric of his white pressed shirt. He thrust into you, picking up a hard pace. With each thrust, he buried himself deeper inside you until your clit met his pelvis each time. He was pounding into you, the lewd noises of your sopping cunt and his balls slapping against each other filling the room. 

Your puffy walls clenched around him as your orgasm built in your abdomen. If Ushijima kept up this pace, you’d surely come undone soon. He adjusted his stance, snapping his hips into you at a different angle and hitting your g-spot. You screamed out his name, nails raking down his arms. 

“F-Fuck, I’m close,” Ushijima breathed against your neck, thrusting into you harder. 

You bit his shoulder, a scream coming out of your lips as your walls fluttered around his cock. You desperately tried to hold on a bit longer, but the pressure in your abdomen was too much, causing you to squirt on his cock. Ushijima thrust a few more times, cuming inside you. He stilled his hips as he painted your walls white and breathed heavily. 

You tilt your head back against the cold metal wall, your legs trembling and your breathing labored. “Fuck,” you let out, chuckling. “The minute you pull out and set me on this floor, your cum is gonna drip down my leg…”

Ushijima let out a chuckle and pulled out. “I have a handkerchief in my pocket,” he said, adjusting his trousers and buckling his belt once more. 

You shifted, feeling his cum start to travel down your thigh and grabbed his handkerchief. You quickly cleaned yourself up and jolted as the elevator began to move once more. You looked at Ushijima, smiling as you watched him fix his tie. 

Maybe you didn’t hate him as much as you thought.