#i had an uncomfortable realization this afternoon
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Unsportsmanlike
Chapter 2 - Spring Blooms
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Rating | Mature
Summary | What happens between the four after Tashi's injury.
Pairing | f!Original Character x Art Donaldson x Tashi Duncan x Patrick Zweig
Tags | Competition, Love Triangles (Squares?), Jealousy, Plot, Emotional Baggage, Smut, Exes, Unresolved Tension, Complicated Relationships
Word Count | 2.4K
Author's note | I can't live without a little bit of drama and complex relationships.
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Part 1 of this series - Sportsmanlike
Unsportsman like on AO3 | Chapter 1 - Atlanta, Chapter 2 - Spring Blooms, Chapter 3, ...
As much as Patrick would have loved to stay in her hotel room for a few more nights, he had to accept that she had her own, much busier, life to attend to.
The morning after felt a bit awkward, and she wasn't sure how to politely kick him out. Heading out to grab a coffee, she left him a note that read, "I have to check out at 3 p.m. and catch a flight," along with her phone number. A part of her feared she might find him still sleeping naked in the hotel room, but there was no sign of him or the note when she returned.
She felt a tinge of guilt for not exchanging proper goodbyes, especially since they hadn't really shared much conversation the night before—just engaged in a physical activity.
She hadn't had sex that good since—well—Art and Tashi. Though each had their own styles and paces, she had to admit she hadn't expected Patrick to be so caring. He was typically more forceful in his actions. Who knew he could be such a gentle lover?
She received a text message from him just before boarding the plane and saved his number—almost as if holding onto a glimmer of hope. Nostalgic by nature, she tended to cling onto things for as long as possible, and having Patrick's number saved in her phone offered a small comfort, making her feel a little less alone.
The first time she wrote a report about Art’s tennis career, back in 2011, she had only briefly exchanged words with him and Tashi. As she had told Patrick—it was cordial. They shook hands and exchanged uncomfortable glances when they bumped into each other at a press event. She could tell Tashi wanted to extend the conversation, but overwhelmed by the moment, she cut things short and left as soon as she could.
She regretted it. Not only that, but she missed Tashi, despite how bitterly things had ended between them, and found herself ruminating about her and Art from time to time. Surprisingly, she had received an invitation to their wedding—but couldn’t attend due to her sister falling ill. As Art and Tashi's lives seemed to flourish, hers felt like it was falling short of luck.
But the truth was that—even if her sister hadn’t been sick—attending their wedding would have been immensely awkward, particularly given that Patrick hadn't been invited. She could easily envision the guests inquiring about her connection to the bride and groom and being unable to explain their complicated past during their years at Stanford. After all, she had indeed slept with both the groom and the bride.
Spring 2013
Tashi
In the spring of 2013, an unexpected message arrived from Tashi Duncan, now Tashi Donaldson, on a seemingly ordinary afternoon.
Tashi’s agent had facilitated contact with the editor-in-chief at her firm, setting a formal tone. It became evident that this wasn't a matter concerning the press or any official documentation—rather, Tashi wanted to see her and talk to her personally.
After a prolonged period of avoiding Tashi's looming presence, she comes to the realization that she had afforded Patrick a chance two years prior. Consequently, she begins to question why she shouldn't extend a similar opportunity to Tashi.
The night before her scheduled coffee meeting with Tashi, sleep escapes her. Despite it being just a casual coffee encounter, the mere prospect of facing Tashi again is enough to induce serious nerves.
As she sees Tashi seated at one of the tables outside the café, looking as beautiful as ever, a flurry of emotions sweeps through her. She finds herself unable to tell whether she feels a tinge of jealousy towards her former flame or a lingering sense of attraction—or perhaps, a mix of both.
Tashi greets her with a bittersweet smile as she watches the redhead take a seat. “What made you change your mind? I feel like I’ve been chasing you to talk for years.”
"I'm a busy woman," she replies with a slightly forced sense of humor, leaning back in her chair, the weight of their shared history palpable in the air between them.
"So am I. There's a lot you missed out on." Tashi remarks, tilting her head slightly to the side, her tone tinged with a hint of longing.
"Sounds like it. So, what more could you want? What do you want from me ?" she responds, her tone laced with a hint of apprehension, wary of where the conversation might lead, given Tashi's known manipulative tendencies.
Tashi lowers her gaze, a vulnerable expression crossing her features. "I know I messed up," she admits, her tone more serious. "But you were an important person in my life. I don't want that to just go to waste."
She gazes at Tashi with a softened expression, uncertainty growing within her. Tashi takes her hands in hers, locking eyes with a gaze that nearly melts her. In that moment, she realizes that this is precisely why she had been avoiding Tashi—she hadn't wanted to confront these lingering feelings—and perhaps Patrick had been right all along about her infatuation with Tashi, even after all these years.
"C'mere," Tashi whispers, and they both rise from their seats. She pulls her into a hug, enveloping her in a comforting embrace.
It feels as though she had been yearning for that embrace for years. Tashi holds her close, refusing to let her go. With a small sigh escaping into the crook of Tashi’s neck, she feels Tashi’s hand gently caress the back of her head, a gesture of reassurance.
"I'm so sorry, Tashi. I wish it could have been me who got injured, or at least be able to continue your dream for you." She whispers, her words heavy with regret and empathy.
Tashi pulls away, cupping her face gently, and presses a tender kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry about everything. I'm sorry I took Art from you," she murmurs, her voice filled with sincerity and remorse.
She shakes her head firmly. "You and I both know the boys are secondary to this. This is between you and me ," she asserts, her tone resolute as she acknowledges the heart of the matter.
"The boys?" Tashi raises an eyebrow, a mix of curiosity and amusement in her expression.
“Yes, Art and Patrick,” she confirms, sensing a shift in Tashi's demeanor at the mention of Patrick's name.
“You still talk to Patrick?” she asks, curiosity lacing her tone.
“I haven’t in a while, but we’re still in touch,” she admits. Then the question dawns on her. “Why didn’t you invite him to your wedding?”
“You know, I forgave him a long time ago. Art is the one who still has a grudge against him.” Tashi reveals, a note of contemplation in her voice.
Tashi’s words prompt a moment of reflection, causing her to wonder if there might be hidden emotions between the two men, similar to the complex feelings she harbors for Tashi.
“How is Art?” she asks out of politeness but also genuine curiosity. Memories of the party she attended with him back in Stanford flood her mind, along with the words she once spoke to him—that whoever was to marry him would be a lucky girl.
Now that lucky girl is standing in front of her.
“Good. I’ve been trying to get him back into playing since our little girl was born,” Tashi reveals with a gentle smile, indicating a shift in priorities with the arrival of their daughter.
Her eyes widen, a hint of emotion hitting her. “Oh my god,” she stumbles on her words slightly, “That’s amazing, Tashi, I—I’m so happy for you. How old is she?”
“She just turned three,” Tashi smiles warmly, her joy evident in her expression.
“What’s her name?” she asks, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she tries to imagine how beautiful their daughter must be.
“Lily.” Tashi reveals, speaking in a smooth voice.
She blinks, a momentary pause hanging in the air as she processes the information. Her mind races back to the night she spent with Tashi at Stanford, recalling the intimacy they shared, exploring each other's bare skin. She remembers the moment Tashi first noticed the tattoo below her hip— a lily. A flood of memories washes over her, leaving her momentarily speechless.
“It’s what you’re thinking,” Tashi confirms, a tiny smirk forming at the corner of her mouth, acknowledging the connection between her daughter's name and the intimate moment they shared years ago.
-
A couple more coffee dates and meet-ups are planned between the two, and it feels incredibly refreshing to talk to Tashi without their discussions revolving solely around tennis. Despite this, she can tell that Tashi still craves the passion of playing, a lingering desire evident in her eyes.
She meets Lily, and consequently—Art. Encountering him again after such a long time feels surreal, but like Tashi, he has retained his charm and looks. The conversation with him doesn’t flow as effortlessly as it does with Tashi. There’s an undeniable tension between her and Art, an underlying friction that she can't quite pinpoint.
But it never really mattered much, as most encounters were just between her and Tashi
That is until one day, Tashi organizes for her to meet up with Art. She reckons out of all people—Tashi knows best just how close she and Art used to be when Tashi was dating Patrick—and that she wants to see two old friends rekindle their friendship.
That is, until one day, Tashi orchestrates a rendezvous for her with Art. She knows that, of all individuals, Tashi has the keenest insight into the depth of her past connection with Art, especially during the period of Tashi's relationship with Patrick. She reckons that Tashi may harbor a desire to witness the reunion of two old friends and a potential for rekindling their bond.
As unusual as the planned meeting appears, she accepts the invitation to dine alone with Art, keeping the notion in the back of her mind that there might be an ulterior motive behind this orchestrated meeting.
Art
"Does this happen often—your wife planning things for you?" she asks with a hint of playfulness, attempting to maintain a light-hearted tone in the conversation.
Art lets out a small chuckle. “She plans everything in my life,” he admits, though there's an undertone of something else beneath his statement, perhaps a hint of resignation.
She can't help but feel sympathy for him, wondering how he manages to endure Tashi's controlling nature. As she watches him bite down on his churro, a familiar mannerism from their days at Stanford, she realizes that some things never change.
“You’ve got sugar on the side of your face.” She smiles, a wave of nostalgia washing over her at the familiarity of the moment.
She recalls how they used to sneak away for churros together, indulging in a secret treat away from Tashi and her strict diet regimen. And now—seven years later—they find themselves doing the same, though they aren't exactly hiding from Tashi anymore.
"Shit," he mumbles, rubbing his hand across the side of his mouth to remove any lingering traces of sugar clinging to his skin.
She can't suppress her laughter as they stroll towards the parking lot. The dinner conversation proved to be less awkward than she had expected, and she realizes that despite the passage of time, she still shares a playful dynamic with Art.
He pauses to chuck his napkin into the trash before dusting off his hands. “Don’t tell Tashi about the churros. I’m not supposed to be eating this junk,” he confesses with a half-hearted chuckle.
She decides to maintain the playful tone of their exchange. “I can't make any promises,” she shrugs with a mischievous grin, enjoying the lighthearted banter between them.
He chuckles in return as they approach his Jeep, her car parked right beside his in the empty parking lot. Just as she reaches into her purse to grab her car keys, she notices his intense gaze fixed on her. She meets his eyes, observing as he studies her features with an intensity that sends a shiver down her spine.
“I really want to kiss you right now,” he says, a boyish smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
She swallows hard, feeling a familiar sensation wash over her, as if history were repeating itself all over again. “Don’t say that,” she whispers, her voice barely above a breath, feeling herself becoming flustered as she avoids maintaining prolonged eye contact with him.
“I have Tashi’s permission, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Art says, his confidence striking a chord that she isn’t used to hearing.
“What?” She says, looking up at him, her eyes widening slightly as she’s taken aback by his statement.
She feels her heartbeat quicken as he takes a step closer, his presence both solid and strangely attractive and intimidating at the same time. “Is it not obvious? Why do you think she set us up on this date?” His smirk widens a fraction. “We both want you.”
She finds herself paralyzed in shock, her mind racing as she struggles to formulate a response. Her mouth falls open, yet no words emerge. Art, sensing her hesitation—takes the liberty of closing the space between them—pressing a gentle and tentative kiss to her lips.
She pulls back, exhaling audibly, her gaze lingering on his for a fleeting moment before she scrambles back to retrieve her keys from her handbag. “I, uh—I’ll see you around,” she stumbles on her words slightly as she gets into her car, eager to depart, leaving the weight of their encounter lingering in the air.
She needs to be alone to process what has just happened.
“I hope Art didn’t scare you. Maybe I should’ve been the one to tell you.” Tashi’s voice comes through smoothly and calmly over the phone the day after her encounter with Art.
“Maybe,” she replies with a touch of exaggeration, her tone slightly mocking. “I wasn’t exactly expecting your husband to kiss me.” She lets out a small huff.
Tashi's voice breaks the charged silence, laced with a playful hint of teasing. "Did you enjoy it?" she asks, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.
The shift in her tone is immediate, and with a weary sigh, she expresses her frustration. "Tashi," she begins, her voice filled with genuine confusion. "What kind of twisted joke is this? It's not funny."
"Baby, we weren't trying to scare you, I promise." Tashi's softer tone and use of the affectionate name stirs something within her. At that moment, she can sense that Tashi's intentions are sincere, and her words carry a hint of reassurance. "He meant what he said. About us."
The phone pressed against her ear, she paces back and forth, her mind spinning with thought. "So what exactly are you asking of me?" Each word carries a mixture of uncertainty and curiosity as she tries to make sense of the situation.
"Just come over to our hotel." Tashi says, "You choose which night, and we'll talk ." There is no room for negotiation or misinterpretation in her words.
It's obvious to her that Tashi's idea of "talk" carries a deeper meaning. She understands the exact implication behind the word and the hidden agenda that lies beneath the seemingly innocent request.
She finally decides to speak up. “I’m free tomorrow night.”
#Spotify#challengers#challengers 2024#patrick zweig#tashi donaldson#tashi duncan#challengers movie#art donaldson#challengers fic#challengers film#challengers fanfic#challengers fanfiction#art donaldson x reader#challengers x reader#challengers smut#tashi duncan x reader#art donaldson x female reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x patrick zweig#art donaldson x tashi duncan#tashi duncan x you#tashi duncan x oc#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig x you#patrick zweig x art donaldson#patrick zweig x oc
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3.128 Fired
We arrived at home late that night loaded down with more gifts than the nursery could hold. If we received one more thing, we'd have to start a warehouse in the empty bedroom. We got so much stuff, we could probably support six more babies, heh. Baby girl could use a different towel every day of the week for the rest of her childhood. We had enough shampoo and lotion to last the rest of her life, it seemed like. If one day she entered a nobody loves me phase, I'll be sure to remind her of this scene.
Sophia had never been a busybody and always took a more relaxed approach to life, but I was glad to see her following the doctor's orders. She spent a lot of time on our balcony, rocking in the chair early morning, thinking about whatever expecting mothers think about. Sometimes I'd catch her reading on the couch. Seeing her take the warning seriously made me feel good about leaving her alone for a few hours to visit Maira. I thought about it in the shower, and visiting her before the baby was born was the move. Who knew when I'd be able to spend quality time with her after that.
Like I always, I began our conversation with an apology, but she didn't fault me, of course. She said it wouldn't have been right for me to neglect all my guests to hang with her all afternoon. That was true, but I still didn't like that she was alone all day. She assured me that she was okay, so I asked about her brother.
"He died in a fire," she said.
"Oh, gosh! I'm so sorry, Maira."
I never liked him, but he didn't deserve to die like that.
"Knowing he's not here anymore is its own challenge, but what makes it worse is when I think about the fire, I often think about us."
I swallowed a few times because I knew exactly where she was going, and it made me nervous.
"I think about how you held me when you realized I was okay and what we both felt."
I couldn't move or even blink and sat there, holding my breath, hoping she wasn't about to pull a Yasmine on me. Finding good friends had been a long journey, and I felt like I had a nice inner circle now. I didn't want to lose Maira because of her feelings for me. I also didn't need her digging things back up because I had worked hard to let that go.
"Sometimes I think about that moment and I wish I would have given in," she continued. "We could have tried to see if we would work. I imagine myself married to you and pregnant with your baby. My parents would finally be proud of me."
I wanted to stop her from talking so she wouldn't say something that would ruin our friendship, but I was frozen. This was a mistake. I wanted to be a better friend, but we couldn't be alone together anymore.
"All of that is nice to think about," she continued, "but I would be miserable. And you would get fed up with me. We wouldn't be friends anymore. Life turned out exactly how it was supposed to, and I wouldn't change a thing. I like how we are, and I like my life. It's just lonely sometimes, and I wonder if I'm missing out on something."
I exhaled the breath I held and blinked, finally. I could keep my friend. As uncomfortable as that was to hear, I loved that we were able to be that honest with each other. That's true friendship right there.
"Everyone has their own opinions about what you should be doing with your life, so I don't think there's a right or wrong answer for that," I said. "I think as long as you're happy with your life, no one else's opinion matters."
"Yeah. You're right. That's what I say to myself. But you know how it is."
"Yeah. It's a battlefield up there."
"Seriously."
"So...there's no one you're interested in right now?" I asked, trying to pivot the conversation...and maybe be a tiny bit nosy.
"No, and it's all your fault. You ruined me!"
"Me? How??"
"You set the bar way too high! No one else can measure up!"
"Oh please. I'm sure there's plenty of guys out there who are way better catches than me."
"I assure you, there aren't."
"I don't believe that for a second. Ooh, I should set you up with my friend Justin."
"That guy who comes to all your parties? He's kinda cute. What's up with him?"
"He's a landscaper and lives in San Myshuno. He comes from a big family just like you and is a good man...a bit older than us, but at least he won't bother you about children."
"Oh-my-Watcher you're trying to set me up with an OLD man??"
"He's not that old...I think."
"You are officially fired from matchmaking, thank you!"
I missed our banter. It felt good to laugh with her again. Hopefully, she would let someone into her life soon. She didn't need a man, but it was obvious she wanted some kind of companionship, and I was not the man for the job. Besides, she deserved to be loved and cherished, and I wanted to see her happy for once.
"The baby will be here in a couple of days, huh?" she asked.
"Sure will. I can't wait to meet her."
"So, is this the first of many, or..."
I sighed, realizing this would be the first time I admitted this out loud.
"She might be it for us. At least if we want more, we'll have to adopt."
"Whaaat?"
"Yeah. We went through a lot to get her. Sophia says she doesn't want to do it again."
"Are you cool with adoption?"
"Oh yeah, totally. You know Sophia's adopted, right?"
"Really? I don't think I knew that. It's funny...I've known her almost my whole life, but I've never really known her until now."
Was it bad that I often forgot she and Rashidah were sisters? They rarely spoke of each other, and Sophia and Rashidah seemed closer than the sisters.
"Yeah, she is," I said. "And she's got quite a story. But yeah... We're both open to it, but actually doing it is another story."
"Well, whatever happens, I'm glad you two are finally getting your family. I can't wait to meet your kid!"
"Oh yeah? I thought you didn't like children."
"I never said that! I don't want my own children; I love the auntie life! I think my first order of business will be teaching her forbidden words!"
"Oh Watcher. Here we go."
#ISBI challenge#sims 4 story#sims 4 gameplay#adolting#adolting gen 3#luca winston murillo#maira watson#sophia aguilar#justin really is that old bro lol#mccc needs to hook her up!
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#i had an uncomfortable realization this afternoon#i think part of what makes me uncomfortable with more...intimate versions of mckirk is because the age gap there#is similar to the age gap between myself and two of the people that abused me#of course i recognize that the context is wildly different there#two consenting adults vs one minor being incredibly inappropriate with a much younger minor who was unable to consent in any way#but i think even just that very minor piece of pattern recognition is enough to get my hackles raised#because it's not about the characters themselves there has been nothing in bones character to ever indicate that kind of malice#its nothing to do with the actual ship or characters it's literally just the age gap that every once in a while just makes my insides squirm#i dont think i would have ever had the realization at all if i hadnt had a nightmare about jim being attacked and assulted last night#bones wasnt even in the dream it was just a couple of older officers but it kept replaying in my brain till i wrote out the aftermath#and getting him patched up and it was the context of jim going through a similar trauma to mine and coming to me for help#that i connected the dots#i mean within in the context of how i usually write bones jim didnt want to tell him at first becaus i write bones as being an sa survivor#and jim didnt want to trigger him in all of this so he asked me for help instead#but writing him going to someone closer to his own age over some closer to the age of the people who hurt him kind of connected the dots#it's definitely a me issue and its not actually anything to do with the characters or the ship in general#its just a really unfortunate happenstance
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Nsfw/smut
Part 1 here!!
You don't know how to work with Miguel. You can't meet his gaze, can't talk to him. How are you supposed to just keep going on with your life when you heard everything? When you took a peek and saw what he was doing while calling your name?
He was jerking off to you! How are you supposed to just keep going as if nothing were wrong?!
You can't stop thinking about it, the way he'd groaned, the thick breathing, the look on his gorgeous, gorgeous face...
You shake yourself out of it. You've got work to do. The spiderverse won't protect itself...
...Maybe just for a minute?
As the memories of Miguel rush through your mind, you can feel your body grow hot. You can't stop thinking about how he'd bitten his lower lip, or how big he is. Granted, Miguel is huge in every aspect, you were just curious about that last one. And now you know.
An uncomfortable little bubble of arousal grows between your thighs, your pussy pulsating with desire.
You glance around your small corner office. No security cameras, no one else around, door closed...
Miguel did it. Why can't you?
You slide your hands down your body, between your legs, tracing your middle finger against your clothed cunt. You add pressure on your clit, shuddering at the slight relief and pleasure that flows at the touch.
You spread your legs some, adding more strength, more need to each movement. Soon, you're sweating, panting, images of Miguel invading your brain.
You can hear his breathing, see his eyes shut tight, his fist around his enormous cock...
You touch yourself until you're close. So close. Your orgasm is right there, just a few seconds away—
A knock sounds on the door before it unexpectedly swings open.
You manage to pull your hand away at the last second. And there stands the man himself.
“Miguel!” you just about squeak, trying to keep your breathing regular.
He eyes you suspiciously. “You okay?” he asks. When you don't answer immediately, he glances around your office, searching for something.
You look flustered, nervous. You're sweating and he could hear you panting across the goddamn hall.
And then he smells it. The scent of your sweet, thick arousal.
He turns back to you, not a doubt in his mind about what you were doing. His eyes sharpen, grow dark. The tips of his fangs peek between his lips.
You find yourself pressing your thighs together involuntarily.
“What's going on?” he demands, voice thick and rough.
You swallow thickly. “N-nothing. Nothing's going on.”
His eyes grow impossibly darker. “No me mientas.” Don't lie to me.
“I'm not!” you insist.
He doesn't buy it. After a long, tense pause, he pinches the bridge of his nose and says, “Don't make this harder on yourself. I know what you were doing.” The firmness and unwavering belief in his voice lets you know he really does know.
“Well I-I know what you were doing,” you blurt. Your eyes widen and your cheeks blush when you realize what you've said.
He frowns, putting his hands on his hips. “What are you talking about?”
There's no taking it back now. “I saw you,” you say. “Yesterday afternoon. In your office. I saw you and I heard you.”
By the expression on his face, you know he's aware of what, exactly, you're talking about.
“Mierda,” he curses. You just kind of sit there, eyes on his. “Mierda.”
For some reason, you can't shut yourself up. “I...I heard you say my name,” you admit, blushing as if you had any reason to be embarrassed. Well, maybe you shouldn't have stayed and watched but...still, it's not your fault he's jerking off to you.
“La puta madre,” he hisses, pinching the bridge of his nose again. “Fuck. I...I'm sorry—”
“It's okay—”
“I didn't mean—I didn't know you were listening, obviously—”
“Miguel, don't worry about it—”
“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable—”
You keep fucking talking. “If it makes you feel any better, I was thinking about you while I did it too.”
That shuts him up. He stares at you, blinking. “What?”
You feel the need to explain. You keep fucking it up. “I-I was thinking about you while I touched myself,” you tell him. “I...don't know if that makes you feel any better, but I thought you should know.”
He takes a few steps until he's standing in front of you. “Tienes idea de lo que te va a pasar?” Do you have any idea what's going to happen to you right now?
You shake your head, terror spreading through your veins. Are you...fired? Is he going to send you back to your universe? Is he going to ban you from the spider society?
“Bend over the desk,” he instructs, his voice low and quiet, sending a shudder up your spine.
That takes you by surprise. “W-what?” you stutter.
He picks you up and roughly bends you over the desk, pushing your chest against the wood and kicking your feet apart. “I only say things once. I don't like repeating myself. You won't get warnings with me.” His hand grips your hip roughly, squeezing it hard. “Have I made myself clear?”
“Y-yes, sir,” you whine.
He grins; you can hear his smirk. “Atta girl.”
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@yagirlheree @sukioyakio @obi-mom-kenobi @celestia80s @manlikemilesmyguy @zaunsin @naniiiii12 @everlastlady @avatar-lover @siidmm @dhollandhs @spikedhe4rt @missing2socks @itzraven101 @miguelspookiebear @mochikomochisoft @sunset-euphoria @kishibeswh0re @m4dyy @icreatedthisat317am @keiva1000 @jakescumdump @ravisinghs-wife @tengens4th--wife @oceancerulean @pookiesmookie69 @juwandiko @aisyakirmann @ninebluehearts @vampireluvvr @saturnstringz @4imhry @iheartlinds
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take me down slow | jjk
title: take me down slow
pairing: jeon jungkook x f!reader
genre: m, smut, established relationship au
summary: jungkook is back home from work and even if you've missed him a lot, you let him rest tonight. though, out of all night, you have a wet dream tonight. and even if jungkook is tired, he's happy to take care of you.
warnings: dom!jk sub!reader, needy reader and sleepy koo 🥹, a little bit of oral (m receiving), a little bit of fingering too, unprotected sex (pls be safe), degradation (jk calls reader a whore like one time), daddy kink, kink discovery, creampie, just basically some lazy sleepy sex... until it's not so lazy.
wordcount: 2.2k
note: HELLO !!! 🫡 this is just a little story i wrote a long time ago and since part 3 of basic needs is still a work in progress i wanted to give you something to read while you wait :) this one is not edited at all so don't expect the greatest thing. either way, i hope you enjoy it 🩷
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you open your eyes with a gasp and when you take in the dark room you realize it was just a dream. it felt too real. you can almost still feel jungkook”s hands all over your body, well, you kind of actually feel them now.
jungkook is fast asleep by your side, your legs tangled together while your arm is thrown over his middle and his is wrapped around your waist to keep you close to him even in his unconscious state.
he came home from work yesterday, it’s been almost four weeks since the last time you two were together but that’s what being an international star does to his schedule. he got home late in the afternoon and you only got to prepare dinner together and share a comfortable and much needed talk during dinner before he said he was so jet lagged and he needed to go to sleep. you needed him so bad but didn’t say a word, just went to bed with him and fell asleep together.
but out of all nights, you had to have a stupid wet dream tonight.
you’re actually sweating, your skin is hot and your underwear is starting to feel uncomfortable because you can feel it’s soaked. and jungkook is sleeping. he’s peacefully sleeping with his pouty mouth and furrowed eyebrows. you feel so bad but you need him even more, so you guess you can feel bad about it tomorrow morning.
you shift a little and get closer to his neck, giving his skin sweet little kisses as you slowly start to rut your hips against him to try and find any kind of friction on your crotch. like a bitch in heat, that’s what you feel like.
a groan escapes jungkook’s mouth at one specific suck to the side of his neck and his hand twitches where it’s placed on your waist.
“baby.” you whisper in his ear.
“yeah...” he only groans with that sleepy rasp to his voice you missed so much.
“i’m so horny.” you whine as you keep rutting against his hip.
that comment alone seems to wake jungkook up. he lifts his head a little to look down at you with what you suppose is an arched eyebrow, the little light in the room coming from the city lights through the window.
“baby.. .” he says and drops his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes again. he’s tired. you feel so bad.
“i’m sorry, i.. fuck..” you feel like crying but god, you’re so horny you don’t even think your brain is working anymore.
“it’s okay, baby.” jungkook mumbles and his hand that was on your waist goes down to squeeze one of your asscheeks out of nowhere, making you whimper on his neck.
“kook.. so horny..”
“mhm.. i know.” you swear if he keeps talking with that raspy voice you could come completely untouched.
“want you so bad.” your hand goes down to cup him over his sweatpants. he’s soft but you can definitely feel him twitching a little at the contact.
“make me hard, baby.” jungkook squeezes your asscheek again, making you moan.
“yes!” you quickly get up on your knees and throw the comforter away from his body, wasting no time in pushing his sweats down.
“good girl.” your boyfriend praises, his hand going to your hair when you bend over to blow air on his soft dick teasingly.
“missed you so much,” you take him into your hand and start giving his head little licks, feeling it slowly starting to harden on your hand. “missed your cock in my mouth.”
“missed your mouth too.” jungkook hums as he brushes your hair out of your face so he can see you.
“you’re so hot..” you whine when you feel him getting to full hardness just in a matter of seconds. you put it in your mouth, your lips wrapping around him and drowning in the groan that escapes jungkook’s mouth.
“that’s my girl.” the praise makes you so wet you could feel it running down your thighs if your underwear wasn’t soaking all of it.
you bob your head a few times to get him wet enough and pull away with a desperate moan, “kook, i need you.”
“i know, come here.” he pats his thighs. you work quickly, sitting down on his thighs and leaning down to catch his lips in a desperate kiss, trying not to grind against his cock.
“i love you.”
“i love you too baby,” jungkook chuckles fondly against your mouth. “c’mon, sit that pretty pussy on this cock, yeah?” he gives you one last kiss before putting his hands on your waist lifting the big shirt —his shirt— so he can take it off.
you’re only wearing your panties so as soon as the shirt hits the floor, jungkook groans at the sight even through te darkness in the room.
“pretty baby.” he praises, running his hands up and down your sides as you sit back on his thighs.
“i’m so wet.” you mutter, looking down at where you’re sitting in one of his thighs.
“yeah, can fucking feel it,” jungkook says. “would make you ride my thigh, but i want you on my cock,” he easily lifts you up by your hips and positions you on top of him. “take them off.”
you sit up for a second to take the ruined panties off and throw them away before sitting back down on top of him, your most sensitive part just above his cock.
“let me feel you,” jungkook brings one of his hands down and you choke on a moan when his fingers start running through your wet folds. “fuck yeah, that’s my whore, huh?”
“kook,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand. “fuck yes...” a little moan escapes through your lips when he slips two fingers inside.
“so little resistance, are you this needy for cock?” jungkook hums in question and you almost cry out as he slips another finger inside. you don’t tell him you’ve been using toys while he was away.
either way, his fingers always feel better than any toy.
“yes, need your cock baby.”
“c’mon, sit on it.” he gives your pussy a wet slap that makes your thighs twitch for a second and then grabs the base of his cock to make it easier for you.
“okay.” you whisper and lower down, positioning on top of his cock and moaning absurdibly high when jungkook decides to drag the head of his cock through your folds.
“so wet.” he mumbles.
you think you might die if you don’t have him inside you now so you start to sink down on his cock slowly, both of you moaning in unison, until you’re sitting on top of him with his entire length inside.
“missed you so much.” you whine, feeling like you could cry.
“i missed you too baby,” he puts his hands on your hips. “so much.”
you stay there for a while, just feeling him inside as you bend down to kiss him again. he wraps his arms around you and kisses you back with so much passion you’re out of breath seconds later.
“pretty.” he looks up at you with that type of smile that makes your knees weak and you straighten up again, putting your hands on his chest for balance.
“you feel so good, kook.” you tell him because you need him to know.
“mh... yeah?” asshole.
“yes.” you moan and start grinding your hips for your pleasure, still not giving him what he wants.
“i can’t fucking see anything right now but i’m sure you’re creaming my cock so good, right?” the words make you clench around him with a whine and you hear him groan at the feeling. “so fucking tight.”
but you eventually sit up a little, letting him pull out until only his head is inside you and slowly sink down on him again. you do it slowly, still tired from how little you must’ve slept, but jungkook seems fine with it. little hums and groans escape his mouth sometimes but the time he lets out a high-pitched moan you clench so hard around him, making him moan again and grip on your hips for dear life.
“baby, god...” he breathes out. it’s clear he’s still sleepy, but it’s so fucking hot.
you lose yourself the moment his tip grazes against that spot, your hips grinding desperately for him to keep hitting it. but jungkook helps you by bending his legs a little, planting his feet on the mattress and starting to thrust up into you.
hard. you didn’t think he could be on his full potential when he’s as sleepy as he is now, but he proves you wrong fucking you so hard that you fall on top of him, your bare chest against his clothed one. yes, also the fact that he’s still half clothed and you’re completely naked makes you even wetter. but he’s slow, he gives your deep and hard thrusts but still doesn’t do it fast.
“oh my– fuck...” you breathe out against his neck, not being able to move anymore.
“feels good, baby?” he doesn’t stop fucking you, his hands also pulling your hips down to meet his thrusts so hard you know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.
“yes daddy,” the word slips out of your mouth before you can even process it and you feel jungkook stopping completely. “fuck...” you whisper and hide your face on his neck in embarrassment. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i said that.”
“daddy?” jungkook asks and you hate the way you don’t know what he’s thinking right now.
“i’m so sorry... fuck, that was so weird– i’m sorry baby.”
“no, let daddy hear you baby.” he suddenly starts thrusting up inside you and you let out a scream.
“kook! oh my god!” he’s fast now. fast and hard. your whole body is completely limp on top of his.
“that’s not my name, babe.”
oh fuck.
“d– daddy..” you stutter because you can’t even form words right now.
“there you go.” he chuckles and fuck, how can he chuckle while fucking you so hard, you can’t even form a single thought in your brain right now.
“fuck!” you whine when his tip keeps brushing against that sweet spot. “i’m so– i’m so close, daddy.”
“gonna cum?” he hums.
“yeah...” you cry out and the chuckle he lets out makes you clench incredibly hard around his cock.
“gonna cum on daddy’s cock?”
“fuck! yeah... yes, yes, please.” you mumble dumbly, feeling closer and closer everytime he speaks.
“please what?” jungkook hums as his hips keep that punishing pace that has you seeing stars.
“please let me cum,” you beg. “please daddy.”
“cum for me, baby.”
your orgasm washes over your whole body like a wave, leaving your legs shaking as you fall completely limp on top of his body while he keeps thrusting to cum just a few seconds after.
“fuck...” jungkook groans as he fills you up, the sensation making you squirm a little on top of him. “that’s my good girl.” he mumbles as he rubs your back up and down soothingly.
“i missed you.” you say and finally lift your head up to leave a little kiss on his lips.
“i missed you too baby,” you can see his smile even through the dark. “i’m gonna turn us around, okay?” he warns and you just nod, letting him hug your waist to flip you two around so that he’s the one on top.
“it’s gonna be messy.” you giggle as he positions himself on his knees to pull out.
“it’s okay, i’ll change the sheets now.” jungkook shrugs and starts to pull out, making you hiss a little in discomfort but sigh when you instantly feel his cum spilling out of you and straight onto the sheets.
you can’t help but giggle again when jungkook sits back and looks down, like he’s admiring the view.
“like what you see... daddy?” you tease as you slide your hand down your body until you get to your pussy and slip two fingers inside.
“you don’t know what you’re doing to me.” he rubs his hands up and down your thighs as he keeps his eyes down where you’re gathering some of his cum with your fingers. a low groan leaves his mouth when you bring your messy fingers to your mouth and suck on them, tasting him on them.
“missed your taste.”
“you better stop that shit before i get hard again,” he warns you and you break in laughter. “wanna have a quick shower?” he asks.
“yeah, i’m a little sweaty and i feel gross.” you nod as you sit up. he nods.
“mh, i’ll change the sheets while you shower, okay? i’ll join you in a minute.”
“okay.” you smile and lean closer to him to steal another sweet kiss before getting up from the bed and making your way to the bathroom, turning the lights on first.
“baby.”
you turn around at that and jungkook looks up and down your naked body before saying, “i really missed you.”
you smile. “i missed you too.”
—
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A/N: i hope you liked this story !!!!! please feel free to comment or send me an ask telling me what you thought of it, feedback helps a lot ! see you in the next one :) 🫂💐
#jungkook x reader#bangtan fanfic#bangtan fic#bangtan reactions#bangtan x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook reaction#jungkook imagine#jungkook imagines#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook x y/n#bts x y/n#bangtan smut#gggukniverse
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somethin' stupid
"and then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you."
yang jeongin x reader, fluff | m.list
wc: 1.2k | happy birthday innie ♡
“i'm not really interested… i'm sorry.”
you watch jeongin as he rejects yet another girl. you feel sorry for her as she stands awkwardly in the middle of the quaint cafe, fiddling anxiously with the ends of her shirt.
thankfully, the establishment was relatively empty, save for a few people discretely listening in. she goes on to nod and ramble on further until she had noticed your presence.
"-oh, i didn't realize you have a partner. sorry." her eyes dart over towards you, blush wildly painting her cheeks. she was already gone by the time you could correct her, scuttling away and leaving a trail of gossip in her wake. jeongin watches her leave, pursing his lips.
"you could've let her down easily. the poor girl was shaking..." you voiced out, stirring your iced americano and watching the ice melt bit by bit.
jeongin sighs and takes his seat across from you, taking a sip out of his own cup. he brushes your comment off and starts to talk about a different topic altogether, returning to his smiley demeanor.
you knew how jeongin was. he didn't hesitate to say no whenever someone would just come up to him, asking for his number. it happens more often than not, professions of love seemingly happening out of no where.
you were also used to it, getting stopped so frequently whenever you went out with him. dozens of people that had tried to ask him out only ended in disappointment.
he was seemingly disinterested in things like love. the topic had always eluded him, if you didn't know him any better you could have said he was uncomfortable with the idea. but you didn't pry, he must have a pretty good reason. it was understandable too, his line of work didn't exactly allow it anyways.
despite this, you have admired him in silence ever since the beginning. the feelings that had festered inside of you were kept bottled up until they threatened to spill over. and they almost did, but friendship mattered more and shot down the idea before it could ruin everything.
admittedly, there are days where you just want to explode, to confess and just get it over with. you were a hundred percent positive it would end just the same for you. the preconceived notion of him not liking you in that way, you don't think you could handle it. thinking about being rejected so coldly sends shivers down your spine.
the iced americano that sits in your hands start to sting after a while, but you pay no mind to it. the firm grip you had on it reminds you, mulling over the interaction you had earlier as he rambles about another topic. little things like paying for your coffee and bringing you other small items even if it was his birthday had in short, confused you.
maybe you're misinterpreting and just imagining things. but the way jeongin is adamant that he pays for your order every single time, or the way his hand brushes against yours more often than not and how the warmth of them lingered, says otherwise.
you also notice how he didn't correct the girl's assumption about you two.
the wind dishevels his hair upon stepping out of the cafe, rays of sunlight peaking through the leaves start to dim in the afternoon. the two of you walk for a while, kicking pebbles and rocks in comfortable silence. your head is still occupied with thoughts of him.
another thought comes into your mind amidst the internal chaos, "i almost forgot! i still need to buy you a cake." it had completely slipped from your mind, forgetting why you agreed to go out in the first place.
"it's okay, really." he laughs as you tug him along the sidewalk. you need to do something else to distract your mind and fast. jeongin jogs beside you, keeping up with your pace. it seemed like you weren't taking no for an answer and stopped right in front of a pastry shop.
"is this what you were talking about?" he hums with a grin, leaning down to browse the lines and lines of delicious looking cakes displayed in the glass casing. you made no move to go in just yet, letting him choose silently. his hair, still disheveled and tousled from the wind yet ethereal all the same.
"what if i said i liked you?"
the abrupt stupid question escapes your mouth before you could catch it. his face slowly contorts into an expression, one you could not decipher right away upon hearing it. his back straightens up as keen eyes start to focus on you.
"j-just a hypothetical! i was just really curious because of earlier and it's not serious or-" you wave your hands in front as if to physically wave it off.
"-forget i said anything." you turn your head away, voice becoming tiny and unintelligible. you could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head. jeongin says nothing as the tip of your ears burn a bright crimson.
you've done it now, y/n.
"hey," he nudges your side with that eye-crinkling smile you've come accustomed to.
"did you ever wonder why i keep rejecting them?" jeongin now had his hands in his pockets, a small pout forming on his lips as he pops his own query to you, staring back at the glass casings.
you said nothing, unable to respond with a reply or conclusion that would most likely be accurate, you've already embarrassed yourself in front of him today.
jeongin flicks your forehead and scoffs, “that's because i like you, idiot.”
"it was always you." his eyes were downcast, looking everywhere but yours.
you have gone unresponsive at this point. incredulous eyes stared back at him as you feel your throat dry up. it was because of you? were you dreaming? you must be.
"w-what? really?" you say quite densely whilst rubbing the sore spot on your forehead. he laughs, finally turning to you. "yes, i'm serious."
the wind blows harder this time, removing the locks that obscured his beautifully dimpled face. jeongin's eyes are still trained on you with such longing that you don't recall ever seeing on him, ultimately reminding you that this was indeed real.
"you have no idea how long i've been waiting for you to say those words." you breathe out in relief, one that you weren't even aware of holding.
the proximity between you two sends electrifying shocks, the mere presence of each other is enough to fluster. "i like you too." the words finally make it out of your throat.
you two burst in abrupt laughter, the tip-toeing around the situation suddenly feeling silly. a mixture look of understanding, relief, and love is shared between you two, smiling like love sick fools.
jeongin starts to drag you away by your coat, mimicking how you did to him earlier. "ah! wait, but your cake..." you see the establishment grow smaller and smaller as he drags you away.
"we don't need to worry about that now."
"can i at least buy you a present?" you reply, picking up your feet and walking alongside him. he has a wide grin on his face as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. "got my present right here."
you mousily stop in your tracks as a deeper shade of crimson blooms across your face. the two of you walk side by side upon your recovery, pinky fingers now intertwined shyly around each other.
#jeongin x reader#yang jeongin x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#i.n x reader#i.n skz#i.n stray kids#yang jeongin fluff#skz fluff#skz scenarios#stray kids x you#stray kids scenarios#stray kids fluff#skz imagines
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delirious
does a confession count when it comes from someone delirious with fever?
alhaitham x reader
you’re clearly sick with fever, you know it, alhaitham knows it, and even your professor to whom you’ve never said a single word knows it. so why are you, wearing a black mask, coughing up a lung, and a second away from sleep, in lecture?
alhaitham has his own hypotheses to that particular question, but the fact remains is that there’s still about ten more minutes of lecture and he doesn’t know if you’re going to make it. not because of death—at least, he certainly hopes not—but because he meant it when he said you’re a whisp away from dreamland. one blink might send you head first into a fever dream, and you honestly think you might be in one when alhaitham silently packs his bag and silently moves through the lecture hall to sit next to you.
“what are you doing?” you whisper.
“taking you home.”
you cough before responding, and alhaitham cringes at the sound.
“home?”
“back to the dorm,” he clarifies.
you and alhaitham both live in the same dorm, though you only realized it when he came knocking on your door, with only the message of “you’re being too loud, i’m trying to study, please quiet down” when you opened it. your roommate was understandably annoyed by his obtrusiveness, and you were too, to an extent. until you told your roommate the very next day you thought he was cute and recognized him from lecture.
a lost cause, your roommate called you.
a lost cause was right.
“why?” you ask again through another cough.
alhaitham shrugs. “consider it me doing something nice.”
“but you’re not nice?”
alhaitham raises an eyebrow. your face is pale and laced with confusion, and if the statement didn’t come out as a sincere question, alhaitham would be much more offended. presently, he’s a little miffed—of course he’s nice, just when he wants to be, which may or may not be less than the average person—and has just realized something very interesting.
you don’t have much of a filter when sick with fever.
you’re also not very… present. he had to nudge you when the lecture ended and the professor started packing up. he had to subsequently coax you to pack up, because you told him you were so tired you could fall asleep right there and then.
“you can’t do that.”
“but why?”
“it’s too warm in here and lecture chairs are uncomfortable, and another class is coming in.”
“i don’t care,” you told him, a pout gracing your features.
“well, i do,” alhaitham says, standing. he looks down at you. “now, are you going to let me walk you back or are you doing to stay?”
“stay.”
so you have a streak of stubbornness when you’re sick, too. alhaitham rolls his eyes and starts packing your stuff himself, tossing in your laptop (which hasn’t been touched the entire lecture) and notebook (which also has remained unopened) and even takes your phone, plopping it in before zippering the bag shut, tossing it over his shoulder, and heading towards the exit.
it takes you a second in your hazed state to realize what happened before you pull yourself up and out of your seat and into the hallway. alhaitham’s nowhere to be found and you’re about to unleash a string of curses on his good name before you hear footsteps behind you.
“ready to go?”
you glare at him. “isn’t it a crime to mess with someone who’s sick?”
“a crime? no. morally wrong? maybe.” alhaitham shrugs, a slight smile tugging on his lips. “but that’s something for the philosophers to decide.”
you huff as you walk along side him, out of the lecture hall and onto the main campus. it’s a cold winter afternoon and you pull your sweatshirt around you tighter. maybe you wouldn’t have gotten sick if you didn’t insist on not wearing a winter coat when the temperature is near freezing. but then again, if you hadn’t gotten sick, then this serendipitous exchange might not have occurred.
as if reading your thoughts, alhaitham asks, “did your forget your jacket?”
“i didn’t wear one.”
“why not?”
“i am immune to the cold.”
“i assume that’s why your sick.”
“i’m not sick,” you tell him. a following series of coughs proves you wrong and has alhaitham raising his eyebrows. “okay, maybe i’m a little sick.”
“maybe just a little,” alhaitham agrees with you.
you spend the remainder of the short walk in silence, and it’s only when alhaitham leaves your side to open the door to your dorm that you realize you’re back. you think that, if this were any other time, you’d be thrilled and blushing that your crush walked you back to your dorm. he even insisted upon it. a part of you is, but it’s unfortunate you can’t outwardly show it—that is, you don’t really have the energy to.
you also can’t believe this is actually happening and real. your mind is currently afloat in a realm of feverish haze, a sign that you need a nap, but before you can unlock your dorm door, alhaitham pauses ourside of it.
he clears his throat and looks down at you staring up at him, like he’s a comet in the sky. “why did you come to lecture today? you’re clearly not feeling well.”
you stare at him through a sick-filled haze, like you might currently be lost in a fever dream you can’t quite wake up from. like you don’t know if it’s him asking or a fragment of your feverish imagination playing a trick on you.
“because i wanted to see you.”
the words, said so innocently, echo in alhaitham’s ears. you look as if you’ve either forgotten what you just said or unsure if you said anything at all. in the back of his mind, alhaitham wonders if him prying you for your feelings on him would also be a moral debate for the philosophers, but decides to press a little harder, dig a little deeper.
“why did you want to see me?”
“because…” you hesitate, tilt your head, consider the question. “because i like you?”
like the statement from earlier, it comes out as a question. as if it’s something obvious that you’re having a hard time believing alhaitham doesn’t know. as if it’s a simple truth, like the sky is blue, so simple it shouldn’t need explanation.
if you weren’t so sick right now, you might have blushed and looked down at your shoes before blinking up at him through your eyelashes and saying something coy. but like alhaitham realized earlier, you have little to no filter right now.
“i’m going to take a nap,” you tell him, before unlocking your door, waving goodbye, and shutting it firmly in his face.
alhaitham blinks, looks around for a second, then focused on your closed dorm door. he thought you might have liked him—especially when you started glancing at him more during lecture, and even asked to be his partner for a homework assignment. but could he really trust a confession from you in your addled state?
alhaitham shrugs and turns away from the door and walks down the hallway to his own room. when he enters, his roommate looks at him inquisitively, because alhaitham’s blushing, and alhaitham never blushes like this, but he brushes him off. alhaitham decides he’ll ask you again for confirmation when you’ve recovered, just to make sure.
but now he’s starting to feel sick, and wonders if he also might have a fever—from whatever sickness you have or a newfound lovesickness, he can only hypothesize. (it’s probably the latter.)
#genshin impact#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact x reader#genshin headcanons#genshin impact fluff#genshin fluff#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact alhaitham headcanons#alhaitham headcanon#alhaitham headcanons#alhaitham imagines#alhaitham x you#alhaitham fluff#alhaitham x reader#al haitham fluff#genshin impact alhaitham#alhaitham#al haitam x reader#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham imagine#genshin impact imagines
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YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG pt. 4
MDNI this is a NSFW series for adults.
TW: dubcon in Mori & Tetcho's (if your only comment is "I don't agree with this" or "I don't like him" pls keep it to yourself! It's fanfic it's not real!)
pt 1. Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagwa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 Atsushi, Nikolai (Finale)
Sigma
He's learning what it is to be human after meeting the ADA and realizing he has free will. This includes learning what his own body does...
You've walked in on him touching himself many times. He'll be sitting in his office, tracing his dick through his pants, not knowing it's inappropriate that he didn't stop when you came in.
Another time he'll have his penis out under the desk, absentmindedly playing with it. When you come in he's like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar--all wide eyed and jumpy, "no i'm not doing anything, no you didn't interrupt." (you totally know what he must be doing)
Eventually you come in to find him hard, very obviously nearing an orgasm, his face is all red and he can't believe how good he's feeling. you're so desensitized to it at this point that you give him his afternoon tea anyway, and then ask him if he knows what porn is.
he says no?? what's that?? and you explain, to which he gets very excited so you bring up (on his own computer) a very tame video of someone getting a blowjob
"it's in her mouth??? he seems to really like it. what does that feel like???"
"I wouldn't know, I don't have a penis."
"you don't?"
"no, only men have penises."
that starts a whole other conversation about anatomy, and makes you start another video showing penis in vagina sex. this is when you start to feel weird and uncomfortable--maybe you shouldn't be showing him this. maybe he wasn't supposed to know this stuff and now it'll just cloud his mind so he can't work properly--
"can we try that?"
"HUH?"
"you said you have a vagina, i want to try that. can we?"
meanwhile his dick is still out, in hand, tip leaking pre-cum, and you're nearly throbbing wet but trying to play it cool.
"i mean... it's technically, like... you're only supposed to do this stuff in the privacy of your home with your partner, or someone who agrees to it if you don't have a partner."
"so if you agree we can go to my room, then. correct?"
you can't argue with his flawless logic.
Mori
There are certain rules at the PM that you cannot afford to break. One of them is that you must meet with any executive, especially the president himself, at any time they call for you.
when you wake up from a nap in your office to not one, but two missed calls from Mori himself, you panic, instantly thinking you're going to be fired for ignoring him. You know exactly what he wants and you're not supposed to be late for these meetings.
you rush to his office, sleep lines still smushed into the side of your face from falling asleep on your hands. you have to explain to two sets of guard that he called you twice and you were only now able to get to him, and they usher you into his penthouse.
he's not in his chair overlooking the city, instead he's lying on his bed under the covers. as soon as the door closes behind you, he sits up, frowning. shirtless.
"it's been 30 minutes since i called for you."
"i apologize, sir. i was unable to get here any sooner."
"why is that?"
"i was..." you think about lying but know it won't end well. "i had fallen asleep in my office, sir."
"why are you so far away? come closer."
you summon your courage and walk to his bed, and as you get closer you realize there's movement under the blanket around his lap...
"doesn't this bed look far more comfortable than your desk?"
"yes sir..."
"good. do you know why i called you, [y/n]?"
"no sir..." you pretend.
he pushes the blankets down, revealing that he's completely naked and furiously hard. his whole cock is blushing, the tip especially an angry red.
"and now?" he asks, to which you nod meekly. he holds his hand out to you, and you take it, letting him guide you to sit on the bed.
"if you finally let me breed that tight cunt of yours i may be inclined to overlook your tardiness."
Tetcho
you're one of the hunting dogs, and you're very adept at hand-to-hand combat. Tetcho trains with you regularly, enjoying how much endurance you have and how you manage to smile when you fight him. he quite admires you for it, actually, though he keeps it to himself
after beating him one day, you sigh as you stretch out a sore muscle and absentmindedly say that you wish there were higher stakes, because he's starting to get predictable.
this. pisses. him. off. he doesn't like being called predictable. he hates that you're losing interest in fighting him. he doesn't want you to train with anyone else, the idea makes him jealous.
he thinks about it too much for his own good, and more than once he's gotten an angry boner from it--he can't help it, alright. it happens when he's fighting you sometimes too but you've never noticed (or so he thinks)
he thinks up a way to up the stakes, to make it seem more important that you win against him, while simultaneously training privately in a new fighting style. then he waits...
finally, it happens. you happen to walk in on him while he's masturbating, and he can't help but laugh at the shocked look on your face.
"come here" he says, and you bark out a laugh, saying "no fucking way," and you try to leave his room, but he jumps up, grabs you, and drags you inside, closing the door behind you.
"you said you wanted to up the stakes, so i'm gonna up them." he says, pinning you between himself and the door. you try to shrink so his dick wont touch you, but he presses right against you.
"fight me. right now. fight me off and if you can't beat me, i get to fuck you."
"tetcho what the fuck??" you half-heartedly struggle against him, but he laughs and pins you arms above your head.
"you're out of your mind," you say, twisting your hands free and dipping under his arms.
"what, afraid to give me that pretty little pussy?"
"ew, don't talk like that!" you say, backing away from him, and he follows, strategizing how to catch you and get you in his bed
"what, you don't wanna take this fat cock in your tight little cunt?" he taunts, grabbing the base of his dick--this whole time he hasn't had pants on. your face flushes red and he doesn't miss how your eyes glance down.
he's pissed when he gets you in his bed only a minute and a brief scuffle later. "you held back," he grunts, ripping straight through your pants. "where's the fight, you mean bitch? you're tougher than that. you just want this cock huh?"
[if it wasn't obvious, he has a crush on you and you didn't fight back when he said he wanted to fuck you, because you also have a crush on him -.- pls stop leaving rude comments abt this post. i am just a person.]
#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs smut#bungo stray dogs headcanons#bsd x reader#bsd smut#bsd headcanons#mori x reader#mori headcanons#mori smut#sigma x reader#sigma headcanons#sigma smut#tetcho x reader#tetcho smut#tetcho headcanons#tecchou x reader#tecchou smut#tecchou headcanons
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The Heat
MDNI!🔞
Pairing: Aged¡Up¡Neteyam x Fem¡Omatikaya¡Reader
Synopsis: Reader goes into heat and Neteyam being the good boy he is helps her ofc
Warnings: SMUT, breeding, cussing
A/N: Well guys I couldn’t contain myself from writing a reader in heat fic and y’all wanted Neteyam to be the lucky man so here ya go!🤭 Also sorry it’s taken so long! Hope you enjoy and Happy Valentines Day 💌
W/c: 2.5k
The day started off like usual. You woke up and got ready for the day, fixing your everyday beads into your hair and freshening up with some some oils. You were still living in your parents hut despite their efforts to get you married off, so in turn you had to do the same amount of work they did, maybe even more since they were getting older.
You had a good bit of chores to do today — helping your mother weave a couple more loincloths for your family, helping your little brother practice his English, and the timeliest chore of all, going to the outskirts of the forest to collect yovo fruit.
You’d decided to leave that chore for last, going in the afternoon soon after you’d had lunch with some of your friends. You asked if any of them could go with you to keep you company and help, but they all had their own things to do for today.
And so you started on your way, basket in hand and some supplies to help you with the picking. You figure it shouldn’t take you anymore than about 2-3 hours so you could be back in time to help your mother prepare dinner.
…
You knew you were over halfway there, you recognized a little pond that you’ve mentally noted as a halfway mark whenever you’d had to do this before. There was no sign of any Na’vi out here which was a little nerve racking but you knew how to protect yourself if there was any danger to come, having your bow on your back and knife on your hip.
Then you suddenly felt a sting in your lower stomach. Your ears perked up at the feeling but you kept walking, assuming it would go away.
But then you felt your temperature rise, sweat starting to form on your hairline. Your hands were clammy and you felt a bit dizzy. This made your heart drop because now was not the time to fall ill, though you were confident someone would come find you if you weren’t back by eclipse.
You found a rock and decided to sit on it and try to catch your breath. You were trying not to freak out but you didn’t know what was wrong.
The stinging was getting worse and turned more into a sharp aching, making you wince at the uncomfortableness. Your breath was quickly picking up and your mouth went dry.
You opted to kneel onto the ground, hunching over in pain. And then that’s when you realized — you must be in heat. These were all the tell-tale signs of a heat, which you had never experienced before.
You mentally cursed at the horrible timing. You knew you needed the Tsahik to help you but here you were, stranded in the deep forest.
It was rapidly getting more intense and you were losing all your thoughts. Your brain and body was turning to mush and your pupils dilated, you knew your control and rationality was slipping away.
Trying to find relief, you tugged off your loincloth and jeweled top. It cooled you down for a second, but only for the desperate need to keep spreading more intensely all throughout your body.
You knew what you needed and it was all that consumed your mind. You were no stranger to sex, you’ve had a few men. But this wasn’t about fun, casual sex — you needed to be bred and you felt it deep in your aching womb, as much as you would normally hate to admit that. But now you had no shame and were only focused on getting your sweet release.
…
Neteyam was out on patrol for the day and he didn’t mind this job. It consisted of walking near the borders and all around the uncommon areas in the forest. Usually he ran into no problems, so he didn’t complain about this duty. It was actually quite peaceful as it allowed him to be alone with his thoughts as he was out walking, still on high alert nonetheless.
He was just about to take a break from walking and dip his feet into a little pond he spotted when he smelled something unfamiliar. He didn’t recognize the scent but it was so good. His nose twitched as he tried to follow the sweet smell and then he heard a high pitch whine, like someone was in distress.
All his senses on alert, he carefully followed these distractions. And that was when he saw you.
He stumbled back in shock as he took in the scene before him. You were naked and drenched in sweat, straddling a large rock and grinding mercilessly on it, covering it in your juices and sweat. You were whining so much it looked like you were crying, clearly being tortured. And he recognized you, he knew your name and would see you out occasionally but that was about it.
As he was trying to process what his eyes were seeing, your scent crept up into his nose, even stronger and heavy in the air. Your eyes were screwed shut so you hadn’t noticed him yet until you smelled him—earthy and musky like a man.
Your eyes flashed open and head snapped to find him standing, a small whine escaping your lips.
“Y/n?” He breathed out shakily, as if he couldn’t believe it was you who was really in front of him doing this.
“Neteyam!” You shouted in relief. You were completely gone at this point.
His ears shot up at the sound of his name, though concern filled his eyes at your state.
“I need your help,” you cried, almost sobbing right then.
His eyes looked around still trying to process it all. He realized you were in heat and needed to see the Tsahik so she could give you medicines to ease the pain until it passed. But Eywa, you looked so good. After all he was only a man and had his limits too, even as the golden child. He gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat.
“Y/n, you poor girl,” he said sympathetically, “I’m so sorry this has happened out here. Let me carry you back to the tsahik, okay?”
“Nooo! Can’t wait! I need you to help me, you know what I need!” You whined to him.
He really did feel bad for you, you looked pitiful. And your scent was still continuing to attack his nostrils, getting him high on you.
You weakly crawled over to him and clung onto his leg. “Please!! I’ll do anything! I’m sorry- but please just help me!!” You laid your head tenderly against his calf as your body was slightly shaking and planted a kiss on his leg.
His eyes grew wide at your display of submission and neediness. You were breaking him quickly. He prided himself on his self-control and discipline, having been able to always do the right thing. But you were making him hungry with desire, he wanted nothing more than to indulge in you and give you everything you wanted right now. But what would his or your parents think? He needed to calm you down and get you to someone else before he crumbled completely. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
“Sweet girl,” he cooed softly looking down at you, though his eyebrows were scrunched up and jaw was clenching from his own internal war of trying to resist you. “I know it hurts but I can run fast, let me get you to help!” He reasoned and tugged your arms.
“Teyam NO! I need to be fucked right now!” Now you really were crying in desperation.
He finally lost his restraint at your vulgar plead. He crouched down to your level and held your face gently in his hands, seriousness sketched on his face.
“You’re not in your right mind,” he shook his head and you felt a pang of disappoint for a moment, “but I will help you. As you wish” he whispered tenderly.
You were ecstatic that he finally agreed. You nodded your head vigorously and pounced on him, losing your patience. He grunted as you both fell back and you landed on him. You ripped off his loincloth. You were not yourself at all but this wasn’t registering in your brain. You just knew you needed dick, now.
His pretty face looked surprised and taken aback by your straightforwardness but it was quickly replaced by his own desperation to have you.
You grabbed his dick and grinned from ear to ear, you were impressed with his size and couldn’t wait to have him in you. He propped himself on his elbows to watch you. You eagerly positioned him to your entrance, ready to lower yourself.
“Shit baby, just wanna get right to it, huh?” He commented and let out a weak chuckle, though he wasn’t really complaining.
“Mhmm, can’t wait Teyam” you whimpered.
He nodded his head in understanding and placed his hands on your hips to encourage you on. “Go on, sevin” he urged you. He knew you were using him but he didn’t mind and wanted to help you.
You sank down on him, marveling in the sensation. His cock gave the perfect amount of drag on your walls as you went lower and lower until your hips met. Both your jaws were slack and he groaned at the feeling.
“So fucking tight and wet” he grunted, “you’re gonna drive me crazy”
You moaned in response and tightened around him. He didn’t fail to notice you squeezing him after he spoke.
“You like what I’m sayin, huh? You like being talked to?”
“Yes, please!”
“Start riding me, take whatever you need.”
You wasted no time in obliging his request. You sat up and slammed back all the way down, taking all of him once again. You moaned in unison at the sweet friction.
Picking up the pace, you began bouncing on him. You planted your hands onto his chest for stability and he grabbed your wrists to hold them in place.
“F-fuck! Mmmm yeah, you’re doing so good, y/n” he praised you, urging you on.
You were a moaning mess above him, not even able to form words at the moment. His cockhead was hitting your cervix each time and the pleasure was consuming every nerve in your body. It was all you could think about.
You were creaming all over him, it coated his lower stomach and thighs, making unholy noises. You could feel your release approaching and he could feel his too, as his dick began to twitch inside of you.
“Teyam! Gonna- gonna cum!!” You announced to him.
“I know babe I know, do it!! I am too- shit!” He squeezed his eyes shut, his orgasm overtaking his body.
As soon as you felt his seed shooting into you and heard his low whimpers of pleasure, that was all you needed to get to completion too.
“Ahh! Fuck, fuckkkk!” You screamed so loud they could probably hear you back at the village. You convulsed around his length, milking him dry. You rode out your high on him, not even caring that you were overstimulating him as he was writhing on the ground below you.
You slumped onto him after you got what you wanted. Your bodies were sweating and slippery against each other, hearts pounding and panting into each others ears.
After a few seconds, you still felt the aching in your womb wanting more. You rose up to look at him and try to beg for more, hoping he would grant your request.
“You had enough?” He asked. He looked pussy drunk and you loved that it was yours that got him this way.
“No.. need more” you cried shamelessly and harshly sniffed his scent in like it was a drug.
“Okay sweetie,” he began as he secured you in his arms and rose up to his feet effortlessly. Eywa, he was so strong. “Let me fuck you properly. My way.”
He backed you up against a tree, still holding you up with his big, bulky arms. You knew he was muscular of course but you had never been this close to him. You went from barely being acquaintances to getting real close, real fast. It definitely would never be the same after this.
His length was already rock hard again, no doubt because of your strong pheromones suffocating him and putting him under your spell. By Eywa, you were making him an animal too. He wanted to make you cum over and over again, screaming his name.
He grabbed his dick with one hand and slid it across your abused, puffy cunt. He loved the sight and wanted this moment etched in his mind forever.
“So, so pretty y/n. You should’ve let me do this a long time ago. Guess I didn’t catch your eye” he stated jokingly.
“You’re the olo’eyktan’s son.. I figured you’d never have time for someone ordinary like me”
“Ordinary?? You just made me cum embarrassingly soon, I think that’s rather impressive and special” he chuckled. You laughed too. Gah, he was so handsome.
Bringing you out of your daze, he pushed his dick inside you. You were still wet with yours and his release so it glided easily. You instantly let out a long moan at being full of him again.
His ears were peeled back and he was biting his lip to try to suppress his own sounds of satisfaction. He was definitely pussy whipped.
He started his pace and it simply felt like heaven. Your pussy was already more sensitive from previously orgasming so the pleasure was intensified and downright addicting.
You were moaning and whimpering incoherently and he was watching your perfect, round tits bounce like he was in a trance.
“Damnit girl” he gritted through his teeth, struggling to keep any sort of composure “You’re so good. Doing so good for me”
He finally took the opportunity to kiss you on the lips. He was warm and sweet on your tongue, you let him take over your mouth and moaned through the kiss. You wanted to scream from the pleasure but he made you take his kiss.
You were getting near and he could tell by the way you squeezed him. He wanted to cum with you so he started jackhammering up into you, holding onto you so you wouldn’t fall out of his grasp from the aggressive thrusts flinging you about.
“Ohhhh! My Eywa! It’s too much!” You cried out, words broken up slightly from the air getting knocked out of you.
“You can take it! Cmon take it for me, sevin!” he pleaded desperately with you.
You came undone over him and shook violently. The pleasure coursed through every inch of you and you cried out his name over and over again. His name on your pretty lips was more than enough to push him over as well. He let out his load into you and pushed it all the way back to your cervix.
He crashed onto you and you were squished between the tree and his heavy, brawny body. You didn’t mind the squeeze though, you loved how huge he was and how small he made you feel.
He was lowly humming in satisfaction. Weakly, he lifted his head up to look at you, you were so close you were nose-to-nose. Both your expressions were of being fucked out and pure bliss.
His hooded eyes filled with lust searched your eyes. “Another round?”
…………….
Taglist: @professional-yapper @neteyamssyulang @nonamevenus
#atwow#avatar the way of water#avatar#avatar fanfiction#avatar smut#neteyam#neteyam x you#neteyam x female reader smut#neteyam x na'vi!reader#neteyam x y/n#neteyam x omaticaya!reader#neteyam sully#neteyam smut#neteyam x reader#james cameron avatar#atwow smut#atwow fanfiction#atwow neteyam
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𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 1] Ikebana
Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Morning Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Handjob, Spitting, Praise Kink, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Shower Sex, Death (Not Major), Slight Angst, Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
Satoru doesn’t remember much about his childhood– Not the parts that didn’t involve you anyway. He remembers playing with you when you were kids, but apart from that, he can only remember pivotal moments. Important moments that to no surprise, always managed to involve you.
When Satoru was five, he walked into his kitchen with a scraped knee, searching for help from someone that worked around the house. That’s when he saw a girl around his age, and he got excited. So excited that he forgot about his scraped knee. The girl hadn’t noticed him though, as she tried to get her mother’s attention.
“Hi! I’m Satoru” were his first words to her. That’s when you turned to see him, and you like to think that a beautiful friendship blossomed.
Satoru never really understood why you lived there, or why his parents never acknowledged you when you two played together. They’d address Suguru, one of his closest friends, or literally anyone else that would come over from school. Just not you, even though you’d play together every afternoon.
When Satoru was seven, he understood that your mother was a servant and lived in the servants’ quarters along with the other people that worked in the house. Satoru didn’t quite understand how important his family was or how rich they were at that time.
When Satoru was eight, he was turning into a spoiled brat. He was already spoiled before but he wasn’t quite a brat. He’d throw tantrums more often, and not only was he rude to his friends, but especially to you. That attitude went on for months until you said,
“I don’t want to play with you anymore.” which made Satoru realize that maybe he wasn’t being the best person to his friends. That same afternoon you received your first flower. A lily that he picked out from his mother’s garden, something that if she knew, she’d be livid. That was the first time Satoru ever apologized to anyone, and the first time he gave a girl a flower.
When Satoru was ten, he remembers how his parents started to argue about topics he didn’t quite understand. He just remembered being uncomfortable as he heard their aggravating yelling, and feeling embarrassed because you’d be there playing with him. As an adult, Satoru wonders why they decided to argue so close to his room when they lived in a literal mansion. He guesses it’s not their fault that their bedroom was right by Satoru’s. But in the end, Satoru is grateful because you decided to help Satoru out by dragging him out of the room.
He remembers being annoyed at first, claiming he didn’t want to play outside. The playroom was close to his parents’ bedroom as well. There was nowhere he seemed where he could escape, although the house had a multitude of rooms. You dragged him to your mother’s room and showed him the few toys you had. You still had fun, and Satoru was able to forget about his parents’ problems.
When Satoru was eleven, he begged his father to allow you to go to school with him. The problem was that he went to a private school, and the tuition was something your mother could definitely not afford. But he begged and begged until his father finally pulled some strings and got you into the school, and the Gojo family paid for your school’s tuition.
When Satoru was twelve, his father’s work was in vain. Satoru’s group of friends didn’t really like him hanging out with someone else so much while at school, especially a girl who was just the daughter of a servant. Satoru got defensive about it at first, until he wasn’t. He stopped hanging out with you at school, ignoring you at lunch or whenever you found yourselves in the classroom together. You didn’t understand Satoru’s cold behavior until you heard one of his friends talk about you to him.
“Why do you even keep looking at her? She’s probably all dirty.” And those words broke your heart. You knew what he meant. You also remembered Satoru not saying anything.
You didn’t try to talk to him back at his home, and he really didn’t mind. From that moment on, your friendship deteriorated since Satoru wouldn’t try to talk to you, locking himself in his bedroom.
When Satoru was thirteen, he thought he got his first crush. It was one of your friends from school, he recalls her name being Shoko. He found her cute, and thought about asking for your help to ask her out, but you two didn’t talk anymore. You didn’t acknowledge each other, even though you went home together.
When Satoru was fifteen, he no longer had a crush on Shoko. He doesn’t know if he ever actually liked her or if he just liked the fact that she was so close to you. Satoru found himself missing the friendship you had, wondering how he could get it back. It had been three years since it came to an end. He didn’t know how to get that friendship back. During the summer, he did the same thing that he did when he was eight years old: picked lilies from his mother’s garden and gave them to you. That was the second time that you got flowers.
“Hey!” Satoru yelled when he spotted you walking around the backyard. It confused you because Satoru doesn’t talk to you anymore. What confused you even more was Satoru holding two flowers from his mother’s garden. He walked up to you, and you stared, trying to figure out what he’s planning.
“Mr. Gojo… What do you need?” You asked him. He extended his arm, attempting to hand you the flowers. But you didn’t take them.
“I want to apologize. I haven’t been… the best person to you. You were my best friend for seven years and now I don’t even know your interests. All because I listened to some stupid boys.” He said, and you pouted. You took the flowers from him before you wrapped your arms around him. “I miss you as my friend.”
“I miss you too, Satoru.”
A friendship formed again, but it wasn’t quite like the one you had ten years ago.
When Satoru was sixteen– Sixteen was a weird year for Satoru. He had gotten his friendship with you back, yet it was awkward. Not because you missed being friends with each other for three years, but more because Satoru had some weird feelings toward you. He thought it was just tension because of his past behavior, but he realized how upset he got when Suguru confessed that he had a crush on you.
“Why do you even like her?” Satoru immediately asked, his blood boiling. The moment those words left his lips, Satoru knew that the reason everything was so weird was because he liked you. When he was sixteen, Satoru finally realized he liked you.
When Satoru was seventeen, he fell in love. He fell in love with the way you expressed yourself, the way you dressed, your interests. He loved the way your face lit up whenever he asked about what you liked. The way you excitedly spoke and stumbled over words. It’s creepy to even say that he loved the way you smelled. Yet Satoru never bothered to confess, scared to be rejected, also because his best friend still liked you.
When Satoru turned eighteen, he got tipsy on his birthday. Even though he invited you to the party, you didn’t show up. You chose to spend the night with your mother because in the end, you wouldn’t fit in with Satoru and his friends.
He wasn’t having the fun he planned on having, he was just thinking about you. He knew you were around, but he didn’t want to drag you out of your room to spend time with people you don’t like that much. He debated on not celebrating at all, but then he realized how suspicious it’d end up being. He didn’t want you to realize how he liked you.
His plan was to move on past it all, although it was hard because he was literally so in love with you. The thought of you with anyone else made him sick. He just didn’t know how to tell you, fearful of rejection. He tried to have fun, drinking along with his friends.
“Satoru, where are you going?!” Suguru yelled as Satoru began to walk away from everyone else, heading to the servants’ quarter. Suguru thought about following him, but he stayed behind when he was approached by some of his friends. Satoru just had a single thought in mind. You.
He remembered your mother’s room clearly, it was the third door to the left. He was about to knock, but he paused. Then he heard your voice, and he wondered if he was hallucinating until he turned and saw you.
“That’s not my room anymore. My mom asked your mother if I could have a separate room… Around five years ago.” You told him as he slowly walked towards you. You stood confused because he didn’t bother to speak. Until his hands cupped your face and he looked down at you. His gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you how beautiful you are.” He began, and you looked up at him– At first utterly confused. But it hit you. Pretty quickly you realized why Satoru was so distant. You then thought that you were thinking way too highly about yourself, especially when the breath of alcohol passed your nose.
“Satoru… You’re drunk. You should go to bed. I can tell everyone else to go home.” You offered while Satoru smiled.
“Drunk? No way. Maybe just a little tipsy.” He dragged out his words and you’d be laughing if his hands weren’t on your face. He forced you to look at him, and his face got closer and closer to yours. “I just want to kiss you right now.”
“You’re really confident.” You responded. Satoru has never exerted this type of confidence before.
“May I kiss you?” He questioned, and your face got warm at his question. Your gaze lingered on his glossy pink lips, and you wanted to accept. But you knew better because Satoru isn’t in his right state of mind. Maybe he wasn’t drunk but he was definitely leaning more toward being drunk than sober.
“You’re not thinking straight.” You said. “Don’t do something you’ll regret, Satoru. I can put you to bed.”
“I’m not a child– I know what I’m doing.” He answered. He licked his lips, while he continued to look down at your lips. “Please.”
“Why would you even want to do that?” You asked, blinking slowly as you watched Satoru. Satoru bit down on his lip as he tried to come up with an answer. Maybe he’s tipsy, but he isn’t dumb enough to humiliate himself like– He’s no better than that.
“Because I love you. I love you so much.” And with that, Satoru kissed you. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was for sure the most memorable one of his life. He knew he’d regret it the next day, but he couldn’t live his life without at least having kissed your sugary soft lips once in his lifetime. Even if everything ended up awkward between the two of you.
When Satoru turned eighteen, he ruined his friendship with you. But in the end, it all worked out. He ruined his friendship because you ended up as his girlfriend instead, which is more than he could’ve asked. At eighteen, Satoru got his greatest gift.
And now, Satoru is twenty-one, thinking about proposing to his girlfriend. You’re no longer eighteen, so of course a lot of things have changed. Instead of staying in the Gojo house, you’re now hours away at college, while Satoru finishes a useless degree at the best university in the world.
He’s so close to finishing his degree, but time seems endless when he’s in a different country from you. He can’t wait till he gets to wake up each morning next to you, it feels like that day isn’t soon enough.
“How’s school, baby? Nothing too stressful I hope.” Satoru says, looking at the small device in front of him that displays your face. It really does you no justice. He’d give just about anything to be with you right now, but he’ll be flying you out soon so you’ll spend some quality time together. The more time you spend apart, the more romantic your reunion ends up being.
“Annoying. Boring. Stressful.” You list, and he chuckles. “I can’t wait to see you, baby. It’s what motivates me nowadays.”
“Aw, I’m flattered. It’s the same with me though. I’m just thinking about you all day and night. I can’t wait to see your pretty little face.” He tells you.
“You’re seeing me right now, aren’t you?” You respond, and he ends up rolling his eyes before he laughs. Every time you call each other, you talk on the phone for hours, and Satoru never gets bored of it. Usually, the call ends with one of you falling asleep, and this time it ended up with you falling asleep.
“I love you.” Satoru says, his eyes droopy as he hangs up the call. He smiles, thinking about spending the rest of his life with you. He can’t wait to propose, just thinking about giving you the ring he bought for you.
He succumbs to slumber, not hearing as the phone rings. He doesn’t return the call the next day either, assuming that his parents don’t have anything important to say. They never do.
Satoru waits eagerly at the airport, his eyes looking around to find his love with her luggage. You texted him when you were on the plane, and texted him once you landed, so it’s now a matter of time for him to find you. He anxiously glances at his phone every thirty seconds, waiting for you to send him a text. He’s hoping that you’re okay and you haven’t gotten lost.
“Satoru!” You yell, and Satoru’s eyes brighten up as a smile overcomes his face. He waits for you with open arms, and you run to wrap your arms around him. Two months since your last encounter, your lips meet his in a sweet kiss. He doesn’t want to pull away, but he knows he has to before he ends up doing something that he shouldn’t be doing in an airport.
“My love, how was your flight?” He asks, taking the luggage from your hands so you can walk without having to carry anything heavy. You begin to walk toward the elevator.
“It was good. There was a baby crying the whole way here though, I was a bit annoyed not gonna lie.” You share, and Satoru almost laughs, but he feels as if it’d end up insensitive. He offered to get his parents’ jet, but you refused. You don’t want to shove the relationship in their faces, knowing that they don’t like you– His father does, however, Mrs. Gojo doesn’t.
“You have all day to rest. But tomorrow we have our schedule all packed.” Satoru says, causing you to groan. You get into the elevator and Satoru clicks on the third floor to go to the floor he parked at.
“I’ve barely landed and you’re already making me think about work–”
“It’s not work if it’s fun… Unless you don’t like getting massages.” He cuts you off, and you quickly change your mind. You were wrong. “You know I’m not going to make you work while you’re with me. Ever.”
“Then why am I getting a degree?” You question as the two of you exit the elevator and begin to walk to Satoru’s car.
“To kill time before you can officially become Mrs. Gojo.” He answers, and you fight back a smile as you think about the possibility of marrying Gojo. When you were thirteen, you liked him, but you thought that getting with him was impossible. Now he gets on your nerves because he can’t stop saying how much he loves you.
“Why do you think I’d change my last name?” You ask as he opens the passenger door for you. You get in and he leans down to peck your lips before he says,
“Why would you pass up on the opportunity of becoming Mrs. Gojo?” He replies, and before you can say anything, he closes the door. You weren’t going to say anything anyway, you don’t want to offend his mom by saying that you’re afraid that by getting the last name, you’ll end up like her. Satoru knows that his mother isn’t the easiest of the bunch and he often complains about her, but you doubt that he’ll like hearing you complaining about her.
You check your phone while Satoru puts your luggage in the trunk. You don’t have many messages except the ones from your mother asking you how the flight was. You begin to text her back while Satoru gets in the driver’s side and turns on the car.
“Are you hungry?” Satoru asks and you shake your head. “Are you sure? I don’t have anything that you can snack on at home.”
“You don’t have to lie to me.” You answer. You know that Satoru frantically went shopping the previous day, and if he didn’t have anything, he’d order anything for you. He squeezes your thigh as he begins to drive.
“I just want to make sure you eat something before getting home. It’s an hour-long drive.” He informs you, and you still shake your head before you kiss his cheek.
“Thank you for caring about me.” You tell him. He grins from ear to ear. “Right now, all I want to do is take a nap.”
“You can nap while we drive back to my apartment. Then you can sleep for the whole afternoon.” He says, his hand caressing your thigh.
“I want to spend some time with you though.”
“We have all week to do that. Sleep a little bit.” He responds. You don’t have to hear him twice before your eyes shut and allow yourself to relax for the rest of the ride.
When you wake up, you’re in Satoru’s soft bed, and the sun isn’t out anymore. You slept the whole afternoon. You were barely awake while walking from the car to the elevator, and from the elevator to his apartment. You fell asleep on Satoru’s couch, and he carried you to his bedroom.
You see light coming from the bottom of the door, and you stand up and walk towards the door. The aroma of the food he’s cooking fills up the area, and it brings you to smile, knowing that he’s cooking something up. He usually tells you about the great meals that he’s learned how to cook, and you never believe him. Every time you’re reunited, he’s usually back at his house so he can’t cook for you, but he finally has the opportunity to show off his skills, so he’ll do so.
You walk to the kitchen to find him cutting up some tomatoes for dinner. You walk over to him, trying to be as quiet as possible since he hasn’t noticed you yet. You love scaring Satoru, and you’ll take every chance you can take to do it. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him from behind. He jumps up a little, startled. You kiss his shoulder before you say, “I was dreaming about you…”
“Really? Was I shirtless? I hope so.” He says, causing you to laugh. “Dinner is almost ready.”
“Good. I’m starving.” You tell him. “Where’s everything? I want to start setting the table.”
“You can sit down and watch some TV. You’re not lifting a finger this whole week.” Satoru tells you, and you certainly can’t complain. You never have had the chance to sit back and relax, and since your boyfriend wants to give you that opportunity, you’ll take it. “I still haven’t made reservations for tomorrow’s dinner, do you want anything specific?”
“I really haven’t thought about anything. You can pick.” You answer. You surf through channels, trying to find something that you’re entertained by, and when you finally find the right one, Satoru announces,
“Everything is set. You can come now.”
You stand up and walk over to the table and take a seat. You look at the food and your stomach growls at the sight, causing Satoru to chuckle. He serves your food while you comment on how delicious everything looks.
“I have so much for us planned.” Satoru shares as he passes you your plate. You begin to eat without waiting for him, simply too hungry to wait for him. He laughs, seeing how eager you are to eat. “I’m not sure if we’re going to do it all.”
“Why not?” You ask, genuinely curious.
“Do you really think we’re getting out of the house much when you’re not so tired?” Satoru asks, and you feel your face warm up. You sheepishly smile at him, then you focus on your food to try, trying to hide your embarrassment. He notices and tries to change the topic, “I’ll be visiting home soon too.”
“Really? I can’t wait. One week isn’t enough.” You say. “You should come by more often.”
“Staying home isn’t that fun, baby. First day is fine but then my mom gets annoying.” He responds. “When I move back I’ll get an apartment for the two of us. Or maybe a house so we can start a family right away.”
“A family? Aren’t we too young?” You question, and he chuckles. If only you knew all the plans he has already made in his head, all of them to be completed within five years. “Not that I’m opposed–”
“If it were up to me we’d get married tomorrow.” He interrupts you. “But of course, we have to give it some time. However, I’m not moving back till a year or so, you might change your mind then.”
“Really?” You respond. You love Satoru more than you could ever imagine loving someone, but you have a couple of other priorities that come before starting a family with him. “I’m not opposed to getting married soon, but I do think we should wait before starting to have kids and such. We’re still so young, even if it’s in a year.”
“Well–”
“Plus, your mother would probably want us to have a lavish wedding, even if she doesn’t like me. Lavish weddings take a long time to plan. We can’t have a child out of wedlock, can we?” You argue, and he ends up sighing defeated.
“You’re right, baby. You win.”
Sunlight peeks in through the gap between Satoru’s curtains, and they hit you directly. You fell asleep without a problem last night, and now when the sun has barely risen, you’re awake. You feel a large arm wrapped around you, and smile as you hear Satoru’s heavy breathing. You take in his fresh, clean scent before you attempt to escape his embrace to begin getting ready for the day. But he doesn’t let go. He pulls you close to him, burying your face into his bare chest.
“Where are you trying to go?” He murmurs, barely comprehensible. “You’re not getting up from here until I’m ready to wake up as well.”
“I can’t just spend all day here in bed. You’re going to take a while to wake up.” You respond, yet he doesn’t let go. You’re not going to fight it, after all, Satoru is much stronger than you. You spend around five minutes, laying in bed, doing nothing before you tell him, “Toru… C’mon.”
“You’re really going to wake me up?” He replies while your fingertips begin to trace down his sculpted body. Your fingers feel featherlike running down his body, and it certainly doesn’t help keep him awake. That’s until your finger hooks on the waistband of his briefs. But you don’t do more than that. “Aren’t you going to continue?”
“Aren’t you sleeping? I don’t want to disturb you.” You say, and he grabs your hand, guiding it inside his briefs. Your hand wraps around his shaft and he begins to move it.
“I’m wide awake, baby.” He responds, and your hand begins to move at its own pace. He takes his hand out, moving it inside your pajama shorts to tease your clothed cunt. Your lips go up to meet his, your tongue pressing against his bottom lip before it enters his mouth. Your hand works ever so slowly on his shaft, and he’s groaning in your mouth.
You pull away from the kiss and take your hand out, spitting on it before going back to stroke his dick. You’re slowly picking up speed, and Satoru moans with your every move. His mouth lands on yours again, trying to suppress the embarrassing sounds that escape his throat. He also pushes your panties to the side, two fingers running through your folds to gather your slick, while your tongue presses against his.
Once he gets his fingers wet enough, he pushes them into your cunt. You moan into his mouth while he slowly begins to move his thick fingers in and out of you. This is what you miss most about being with Satoru, the fact that you’re left to play with yourself as if it could compare to what Satoru gives you.
Satoru curves his fingers so they hit just right, while his thumb begins to play with your clit. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and you’re not focusing as much on stroking his cock. Satoru begins to thrust his hips, doing your job for you. You bite down his bottom lip before pulling away from the kiss.
“Hmm– It’s so fucking good, ‘Toru.” You moan, holding your breath while his fingers work their magic. You shut your eyes and try to take it all in. You completely stop moving your hand, but Satoru gets himself off, he’s moaning as he approaches his release. You feel the pressure build up as your orgasm approaches. “I love it, baby– Fuck–”
“Moan my name, baby. It’s so pretty when it rolls off your tongue.” Satoru mutters in your ear, his low raspy voice nearly enough to make you come. You begin to moan his name over and over again as your orgasm looms closer and closer.
You’re so focused on yourself that you don’t feel his cum that has soiled his briefs. Your hand stays wrapped around his cock while he makes sure to make you come. You get louder by the second until you finally come.
Satoru takes his fingers out and brings them up to your lips before he presses his fingers against them. You open your mouth and take his fingers in, and you begin to roll your tongue around them. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.”
He takes his fingers out of your mouth and then shoves them into his mouth. You watch him, taking off your pants before you get on top of him, your knees on either side of him. He takes his fingers out of his mouth while he looks up at you. You begin to rub yourself on his briefs.
“I want more, ‘Toru.” You tell him, while his hands go to your hips. Your lips go down to meet his, pecking him a couple of times before he responds,
“Then takemore, baby. I’m all yours to use.” He responds before you push down his underwear. Your hand strokes his cock a couple of times before you push your panties to the side and you align his dick with your entrance.
You slowly lower yourself on his cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. If his fingers are long and thick, his dick is even better. You’ve been waiting for this for so long. You take as much as you can get before you begin to move up and down his cock, making the man groan.
“What a sweet little pussy. I’ve missed you so bad, baby.” He says while you bounce on his cock, your hands on his chest for support. You bite down on your bottom lip, trying not to be too embarrassingly loud. You don’t want the neighbors to get the wrong impression of you, “Have you missed me? The same way I’ve missed you?”
“So bad.” You respond. Satoru’s hands go to your ass, his nails digging into the flesh. He looks up at you, watching your facial expressions as you take it all in. “Been thinking about you nonstop, ‘Toru.”
“That’s what I like to hear from my girl.” He says as he spanks your ass. He begins to move for you, setting a much faster pace than the one you were going at. Your eyes shut as you take it all in. His hand goes to play with your clit, getting you to the edge even faster. His cock alone is enough to make you come, but he loves making you putty in his hands as fast as he can. “I really miss you so bad, baby. I need you to be on my side all the time.”
“Satoru–” You moan, not really paying attention to the words that leave his lips anymore. He’s just making you feel so good on his cock, hitting every right spot, your thoughts are forming anymore so you’ll agree with anything and everything Satoru says. Even when he says,
“I’ll just give you a baby so you’re forced to be with me. Wouldn’t you like that? Don’t you want to carry my baby?” And all you can manage to yell is, ‘Yes, yes, yes!’ which brings a smirk to Satoru’s lips. “I’ll give you my baby. I’ll give you as many as you’d like.”
“Fuck–” You feel yet another orgasm take over, making you completely weak. Your nails dig into the skin of his chest while you’re on the edge of another orgasm. “Satoru, it’s so good.”
“I’m gonna give you my baby, make sure you’re stuck with me.” He continues, while you throw your head back. He feels your cunt tighten around him, and it drives him crazy. His voice is so whiny when he says, “Fuck… Baby… I need you by my side every day.”
“Satoru!” You loudly moan before you reach your orgasm, your legs spasming. Satoru praises you for it,
“Making a mess all over my cock… Oh, you’re such a good girl.” His hand smacks your ass again while you realize how much you love being praised, especially when what you’re doing is already giving you so much pleasure.
Satoru chases his release, and he gets so close to it with every movement. Your pussy feels so nice and warm around him… He doesn’t want to finish any time soon, he just wants to stay buried inside of it for the next six days. But that doesn’t stop the fact that he’s so close to finishing. “I’m gonna give it all to you, baby. Gonna give you my baby.”
He mutters a couple of words about knocking you up, making sure that you’re by his side for the rest of your lives before you feel the warmth in your cunt. His seed fills you up while your head falls onto his chest.
You both try to catch your breaths, his hand running up and down your back. He remains buried inside of you, and he won’t take it out unless you ask him to.
For a moment you just lay down, listening to each other breathe. But your stomach growls, and you feel your face get warmer than it already is, but this time of embarrassment. You speak, “We should eat something for breakfast.”
“Let’s wait for another five minutes.”
And while you two wait, Satoru’s phone rings. He reaches over to the nightstand to grab his phone, and he rolls his eyes before declining the call.
“Who is it?” You ask him. You heard his phone ring a couple of times the previous night, and each time he declined it. You genuinely wonder who it is, and you doubt that Satoru is seeing another woman so infidelity is not on your mind. He loves you too much.
“Just my mom. You know how annoying she can be.”
Satoru has shown you that he loves you a million different ways, but this, this by far is the best way that he has expressed his love. You get a pedicure and also a manicure. Satoru sits right next to you, also getting a pedicure. You commented how you were thinking of going to the nail salon before coming to visit him, but you didn’t plan it out. So here you are because your boyfriend is attentive.
He’s also having the time of his life as his feet get massaged. You exchange a few words every now and then, but neither of you is really in a talking mood. Until Satoru asks, “Where do you want to go for dinner? I still haven’t thought of any place.”
“I haven’t either.” You answer. “You should be the one to take me somewhere since you know the area.”
“I guess you have a point…” He responds, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s indecisive and he’s scared he’ll pick the wrong option. “But I planned this lovely day…”
“I think you can pick something else… It’s not a life or death decision, you just have to pick a restaurant. You couldn’t even help me pick a nail color, it’s the least you could do.” You tell him, and he chuckles before his eyes glance at your pink nails.
“I told you that you should do blue. You just didn’t want to listen.” He argues, and you laugh in response because he’s right. He did try to help you pick a nail color, he just didn’t pick one that you liked enough. “But fine, I can–” He unintentionally kicks his foot during his foot massage. He apologizes before he continues talking, “I can pick a restaurant.”
“I can’t wait for the massage…” You change the topic, and he hums in agreement. His phone begins to ring again, and he looks at the phone only to decline the call again. You look over at him and furrow your eyebrows before asking, “Your mom again?”
“She’s more annoying than ever. It’s like she knows that you’re here.”
“Maybe it’s something important. You should pick up the phone.” You say and he shakes his head.
“I just want to have a relaxing day with you, and she’ll ruin that. I’ll call her tonight.”
When you get back to Satoru’s apartment, you’re rushing to the bathroom to take a shower and begin getting ready for dinner. Satoru told you that he barely managed to get reservations at a nearby restaurant and that it’s one of the best restaurants in town. He told you the dress code, and you’re worried that you won’t have anything in your suitcase that fits.
Satoru thinks about joining you, sitting on the edge of his bed. It’ll slow you two down and possibly make you late, but that’s a risk that he’s more than willing to make. He thinks about it for a moment, until he ultimately decides that you can always eat somewhere else. He takes off his clothes as he walks to the bathroom, more than ready to delay today’s plans. He walks into the steamed-up room and sneakily makes it into the shower.
You’re spooked when you feel two hands land on your chest, and he squeezes your breasts. You turn to look at him, your eyebrows furrowed before you say, “Next time make sure to announce that you’re joining me or I might just die.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” Satoru says before he pecks your lips. He’s stepping forward, making you step back until the water is no longer hitting you and your back is pressed against the wall. “Since you don’t care about where we go for dinner, we might as well change plans last minute.”
“We can make it fast.” You respond before his lips land on yours. His tongue presses against yours while his hand feathers down your body until they reach your pussy. His fingers run through your folds while he pulls away from the kiss and moves down to your neck. He begins to suck on your sweet spot while he slips a finger into your cunt. A moan leaves your lips when he does so, and because he sucks on that sweet spot in your neck that’s enough to drive you wild.
He continues kissing down your body while he inserts another finger into your cunt. Just like earlier in the day, he curves them so they hit just the right spot, and you’re rolling your eyes. He’s on his knees, and his tongue begins to lick your cunt.
He focuses on your clit, and you have you bite your bottom lip so you’re not too loud. His tongue flicks your clit just right, and you’re barely able to stand.
“You’re doing such a good job.” You praise him, your eyes shutting as one hand grips his hair. Satoru eagerly licks, loving the taste on his tongue. God, he fucking hates the fact that you’re in a completely different timezone than he is. He really wants you by his side at all times.
He takes his fingers out and his tongue stops flicking your clit. His tongue moves down and it enters your cunt. His thumb begins to play with your clit while he moves his tongue around, and you’re not able to hold back your moans anymore. You feel your orgasm approach, and you grab a handful of his hair, pulling it. He doesn’t even notice, just enjoying the taste of you on his tongue.
“Fuck– I’m gonna come…” You tell him. His thumb works on your clit so well, and you praise him for it, which serves as his encouragement. He looks up at you, so adoringly, but you’re not looking at him. You get louder and louder until you finally come on his tongue. He takes his tongue out and kisses your clit before he stands up and kisses your lips.
You’re about to get on your knees and return the favor, but you both hear Satoru’s phone ring. He’s about to ignore it again, letting his mother get tired of calling, but the phone keeps ringing and ringing that it makes you say, “It must be important, ‘Toru. Go pick it up.”
“It’s probably nothing–” He begins but you cut him off.
“She’s very insistent, Toru. She’ll continue calling through dinner. Just check what she wants and I’ll finish my shower.” You peck his lips and he sighs in response before getting out, grabbing a towel, then grabbing his phone.
“Hi mom.” He greets her, a little too unenthusiastic for her liking. First, she asks where he has been and he responds, “I’ve just been resting after so many exams. I need to relax once in a while, y’know?”
“Your father is sick. Very sick.” His mother says, which makes the man freeze. “I’m not sure if he has much time left… He just suddenly– I don’t know.”
“What– I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.” Satoru responds, hanging up the call before he barges into the bathroom. You’re getting out of the shower, grabbing a towel to wrap it around yourself and Satoru announces, “We have to go back home tomorrow.”
“Oh? Why?” You ask, following behind him while he goes to his closet to begin packing essentials; he doesn’t need much since he has pretty much all he needs back at his house. “Satoru, is everything okay? Why do we have to go back so soon?”
“My dad is… sick.” Satoru says, slowly realizing the gravity of it all. His dad has never been sick, from what he can remember. He wonders how he’s so sick and how horrible it has to be for his mother to call. He sincerely thinks of the worst, and he hopes that in the end, everything ends up okay with his father. “I’m sorry for ruining your vacation but… If she’s calling me, it’s because it’s bad.”
“No, no. It’s okay, Satoru. He should be your priority.” You respond before going back to the bedroom to change into something more comfortable since your plans have clearly changed, and to pack up your suitcase once again. You didn’t expect your week to be over so soon.
“Dad…” Satoru says, barging into his parents’ room. Satoru paid for the next available flight and you flew out. Now you’re both at his parents’ house since you’re still on vacation and you’re not planning to go back to your apartment near your university yet. You’re with your mother, while Satoru sees his father to figure out just how bad it is.
He walks over to the bed where his father lies. His father isn’t looking too well, he looks so pale and exhausted. He’s definitely lost some weight too. Satoru walks to his father’s side before he sits on the edge of the bed. “How are you holding up? Mom didn’t tell me about you being sick before–”
“I asked her not to.” His father cuts him off. “I want you to focus on your studies so you can take over as fast as possible.”
“For how long have you been sick?” Satoru asks. This clearly isn’t something new, it was just kept from him. His father is rarely around, even when Satoru is visiting, so he never had the chance to see just how his health deteriorated.
“That doesn’t matter now, does it?” His father responds. “It doesn’t matter, really. I want to hear about you, Satoru. I know nothing about your life except that you were friends with one of the maids’ daughters.”
“Yeah…” Satoru chuckles, unsure of how to talk about it. His mother knows about the relationship, but he hasn’t talked to his father about it yet. Truth be told, he didn’t tell his mother, she just figured it out. “We’re not really friends anymore… She’s my girlfriend.”
“I know…” His father confesses with a chuckle before he begins to cough. He reaches for his handkerchief and covers his mouth. After a minute, he stops and his father grabs his glass of water and chugs majority of it before he speaks again, “I knew you two would end up together the moment you begged me to pay so she could go to school with you. That’s why I offered to pay for her college.”
“Wait, you’re paying for her college?” Satoru is taken aback by this but his father shakes his head.
“No. She turned me down. Told me I had already done enough.” His father shares, which makes Satoru wonder why you would say no to him, but it’s fine. It’s nothing too bad, he would’ve appreciated you sharing him though, “I like her. I don’t believe in love or soulmates all that much, but then I remember on your eighteenth birthday when I caught you two kissing, and maybe, I believed in love.”
“You don’t believe in love, dad?” Satoru questions, as he realizes this is about the most that he’s spoken to his father. He knew that his father and mother never really loved each other, at least not romantically. He realized it when he was around fifteen, but he didn’t expect to hear it from his father ever.
“I loved my father. My mother. You, ‘Toru. The day you were born was my happiest day, you were my little boy. But I never loved your mother in any type of way.” He confesses, and Satoru just inhales, swearing that he’ll never live like that. He can’t imagine living his life without you. “I appreciate her. She’s a very smart woman that’s kept everything afloat. She gave me you and I could never thank her enough for that. But apart from that, I never grew to love her. She’s a cold woman, and I wasn’t made to love a woman like that.”
Satoru just bites his bottom lip, unsure of what to say at his father’s confession. He expected something similar, but he still doesn’t like the confirmation that his parents were stuck in a loveless marriage. He hates knowing the fact because his father is on the brink of death and he’s probably never experienced love– That he knows of. Satoru often forgets that his father lives a whole different life and that he knows none of the details.
“How did you see me kissing– Oh.” Satoru begins and realizes quickly why his father was in the servants’ quarters. “Please don’t tell me it was–”
“Wasn’t with her mother. Don’t worry. She’s not my type.” His father assures Satoru, which somewhat helps him but still grosses him out. Satoru decides to change the topic, about to confide with at least one parent because he knows that his mother wouldn’t approve.
“I’m thinking about proposing to her soon.” He brings up, and his father grabs his hand and squeezes it. “I know I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her, so I don’t think I should waste too much time. She wants to get engaged after we both graduate.”
“Do what you think is best. Just hold tight to her and don’t let her go.”
“I love you, dad.” Satoru holds back tears as he hugs his father. His father hugs him back, patting Satoru’s back.
“I love you too, son.” His father responds, and he believes that it’s the first time he hears those words leave his father’s lips. He hates that he’s only heard this so late in life from his father, but he loves it, and he’s sure he’ll miss it.
A month after coming back, you’re back at college and Satoru is at his parents’ house, patiently waiting for the horrible day. He accepted his father wouldn’t make it, so he made sure to savor every moment. He’s barely talking to you, and you understand that he’s upset, so he’s distant. You still try to check up on him as much as you can, even when he barely tries to communicate.
One April night, right at midnight, your phone rings, waking you up. It’s Satoru, and your heart drops knowing why he’s calling. He calls you sobbing, and you try your best to calm him down. While you do so, you begin to get changed to head to his place, which is hours away but you’ll get there before sunrise.
“I’ll get there in a few hours, baby. Try to get some rest.” You tell him before you hang up the phone. And just as you promised you were in his house within hours, hugging him as he cried. He finally fell asleep in your arms, and you fell asleep shortly after.
Around six in the morning, he randomly wakes up, and you wake up as well. He pecks your lips before he says, “I want to marry you.”
“I want to marry you too.” You answer. Things change up and he becomes the big spoon before you both fall asleep again. Satoru is woken up and he sees his mother in the doorway, enraged at the sight.
“Satoru! My office, now!” She yells, and he’s forced to get up and follow behind his mother, who has taken the loss of her husband quite well.
After his father’s funeral, you go back to college and try to check up on Satoru as much as possible. He’s more distant than ever. He isn’t bothering to even text you back anymore, which you understand since he needs time to process everything.
A month after everything, you receive a call from Satoru out of nowhere. You think that he’s slowly going back to normal, and you exit the bathroom to calmly take the call. When you pick up the phone, you immediately hear his gloomy voice,
“Hey…”
“Hi, baby. How have you been holding up?” You respond. The last time you received a text from him was three days ago. “Are you back–”
“I’m fine– Oh I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” He says.
“Oh no. It’s fine. I’m glad to hear that you’re fine.”
“How have you been?”
“I’ve been feeling sick. I think I might be–” You begin but he cuts you off.
“I haven’t been feeling my best, and I think we should take a short break.” He says, and your heart drops. “I love you, but I don’t think I’m in the right headspace to be in a relationship.”
“Oh– Okay… Okay.” You feel the tears well up before you hang up the phone, not letting him say anything else. You doubt he has much to say anyway. You’re about to take a seat but then you remember the test in the bathroom, and you’re forced to walk back inside to read the results.
You gasp, a tear escaping your left eye before you grab it and throw it in the trash.
You’ll wait before breaking the news to Satoru.
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Moon Blood - Astarion x F!Reader - NSFW, TW: Period Sex
I know it's been done before, but it's the most delicious notion.
Reader awakes one morning to find themselves menstruating. Astarion has a plan to help them clean up.
It starts when you wake that early afternoon, your body’s way of celebrating its liberation from the tadpole apparently. Two days out from the near cataclysm and you woke to the uncomfortable warmth of blood spattering your thighs. Early, an annoyance. Beside you, Astarion dozes peacefully, sleeping what little he needs to, arm wrapped tightly around you as though you could vanish if it weren’t. You’d been doing what you could to help the city, but after everything that had happened, he was your main priority. Perhaps that was selfish but didn’t you and him deserve a little selfishness?
Across the room you eye the wash basin, so close but so far with your love’s death grip on you. Delicately, you try to move him, enough to slip out, but not wake him. Pushing his arm down only causes him to hold tighter and you push again, a little harder. “But Darling,” he murmurs and wraps both arms around you, to drag you close. At this rate you were going to ruin the bed in the room you’d very kindly been given.
“Astarion,” you whisper and shake him, frustration growing.
There’s a little pang of guilt when his eyes slowly open, you do hate to wake him when he actually sleeps. “Is something wrong, Love,” he asks sleepily.
Unguarded and disheveled, he’s incredibly alluring, more so because you’re the only person in the world to see him like this. For a moment you forget to answer as your body fills with an ache for him, heightened by your current state. “Uh, no, I’m, I just need to get up.”
Eyes widen, suddenly alert, and he sits up, inhaling sharply. “You’re bleeding.”
“It’s…,” why is this so embarrassing, it’s perfectly natural, “it’s moon blood.”
The look on his face shifts from concern to hunger. “Moon blood,” he repeats, glancing down to your red stained thighs, tongue idly licking his fangs.
Warmth travels across your skin and you know it's turning a bright shade of red, the insinuation you think you hear in his tone makes you shiver. “Y-yes, love, and I need to clean it up,” he can’t really be thinking that.
“Perish the thought my Darling,” you swallow thickly. "That would be such a terrible waste." The way he hovers over you gives you a sense of being prey and you almost whimper out loud. Reaching out, he tilts your head up, capturing you in a deep kiss, and then whispering in your ear. "Allow me."
The thought is intoxicating even as it feels forbidden. Your mouth is too dry and your voice doesn't work. "I…," you only manage a breathy gasp after that.
"I need you to use your words, sweet girl, and tell me that's what you want," he speaks against your ear, nipping the pointed tip of it.
Still holding your chin, he forces you to look him in the eyes. "I-I want you to clean me up." He smiles devilishly and gestures for you to continue. Your startled mind takes a minute to realize what he wants. "Please."
"Good girl," you quiver at the words.
With gentle firmness his hands push your shoulders back toward the mattress, before tossing the discarded blanket to the floor. "Spread your legs," he commands, encouraging you with an insistent grip on your thighs. "Gorgeous," he exhales at the sight of you.
Kneeling between your legs, he captures your lips again, and then begins to kiss down your body, firmly pining your hands back down when you reach for him. The message is clear, you've surrendered control to him. Little nipping kisses are planted from your neck to your abdomen, special attention is lavished on your now overly sensitive nipples. You fight to keep your hands at your sides as he trails his tongue over one before you feel the sharp bite of one of his fangs. Your hips buck and you whine. "Please."
"Patience my Love." The torture continues on your other nipple until you're writhing. Only then does he resume his path, pausing just before reaching your eager sex.
"Hmm," he torments you, "so much to savor."
He licks a wide swath over one of your crimson painted thighs and sighs. "Astarion," you whine, mad with need.
Ignoring you, he takes his time cleaning up your thighs, savoring the taste. Working his way closer and closer to where you want him the most, only to pull away and start on the other. Groaning, you frustratedly slap the mattress. "Girls who can't behave themselves don't get my help," he teases and you quiet.
The first swipe of his tongue against your cunt brings a moan to your lips. The euphoria has just begun though. Slow, languid licks explore you, tasting the blood and slick of your arousal, lavishing every inch of you. Astarion groans against you. "You're delectable my Darling," his words are punctuated by his tongue penetrating you, leaving you mewling.
Two fingers start to caress your sensitive bud as his tongue continues to torture you, pushing as deep as he can. His own little noises of pleasure join yours as he devours you, lapping and sucking until you're desperately writhing against his face. "Astarion, I need t-," your words are lost as his mouth moves to your clit, taking it between his teeth and sucking.
"Come for me my sweet," he commands, fingers entering you and moving with the perfect rhythm to set everyone of your nerves on fire. With his divine attentions you don't last long, crying his name as you see stars.
He isn't done though. Before you can come down, he shifts back to kneeling and looks down at you, chin painted red and eyes hazy with lust. "Yes," you breathe, in answer to the question he hasn’t asked yet.
He thrusts inside you, the sensation of being filled so quickly, so completely, pulling another moan from you. "Always so eager for me," he growls, driving you mad.
Holding your hips in an iron grip, he fucks you with a wild need. So much for the borrowed bed you lament for a second before being washed away again. "Gods," you pull your legs back to your chest, desperate to take him as deep as possible.
"Fuck, Love," he groans, "taking it so good. My little bloody mess. Naughty girl might need to be cleaned up again." The words do you in a second time and you come, quivering around him.
He doesn't let up his pace, every moment of your orgasm filled with fresh sparks of bliss, until with a last deep stroke you feel his seed pumping into you. He leans down, kissing you, and the taste of all of you on him is intoxicating. "Sorry Love," he pulls away smirking. "I don't think I was much help after all."
#astarion#bg3#baldurs gate 3#astarion x reader#astarion x f!reader#astarion x tav#my fanfiction#Baldur's gate 3 fanfic#my writing#X reader
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when you sleep on the couch after an argument (except its more like the guest room)
diluc ragnvindr x reader
2.1k+ words | zhongli + alhaitham
warnings: hurt/comfort, more hurt on dilucs end im sorry baby❤️ no pronouns used
hello yes not even 24 hours later i'm back with more angst
“just forget i said anything diluc,” you sound as defeated as you feel. it could be so difficult trying to get through to a man as stubborn as him and it only upset you more when you started to lose your cool while diluc remained impassive about the whole situation. you’ve always known he had a difficult time expressing his emotions, especially the more uncomfortable ones like you both feel so swirling in your hearts right now, but that didn’t stop you from wishing he would let you in just a little more when you opened up about your own. you don’t know how long it’s been since the argument started, too long, long enough for the late afternoon sun to turn into dusk. by now your throat hurts, your eyes sting with frustrated tears, your lungs feel like they're suffocating in the heat of the room and all you want is for this to be over, to stop hearing his frustrated tone normally reserved for annoying bar goers and other annoyances being used to speak to you. how much longer could you take of this before you broke.. “i’m too tired to keep going on like this..”
“we’ll be finishing this discussion later.”
the coldness of his tone is the final blow to the cracking dam that was your tear filled eyes. with your back turned towards him, your steps quiet and shaky, you try your best to hide the quiver in your voice as you whisper a small ‘okay’ before exiting the study, softly closing the door behind you. thankfully most of the staff was gone by now and you could walk to your room with your head hanging low, without the embarrassment of them seeing you and accidentally making your tears worse.
you know you won't be able to sleep despite how exhausted you feel but you lay down and curl up in the plush duvet anyways, hating and loving how it smells of cedar, wine and a hint of smoke. you don’t know if the scent of him is making your tears better or worse but you don’t move from the bed until the sun sets behind the open curtains and you hear the large mahogany doors of the manor shut as your beloved heads towards the city. realizing a little too late how it would affect your already fragile heart, you rise from the bed and watch from the window as his figure disappears into the night.
all at once everything feels like too much and you find you can’t handle how every inch of this room feels clouded in your frustration and sadness. you couldn’t be in here, you wouldn’t find sleep with his scent lingering on the sheets. in your upset and frustrated mind you didn’t think you’d find comfort in any reminders of him but you soon found the guest room was not much better. it hadn’t been touched in so long, probably before you even knew diluc, and not a single thing in here is a remnant of him, it’s everything you hate about the room but you weren’t sure which was better. in the end it didn’t really matter, no matter where you were you were bound to cry yourself to sleep, hating that you’d still feel this way when you had to face this argument again in the morning.
“we’ll be finishing this discussion later,” he says, forcing himself to tear his attention away from you and return to the paperwork that needed to be filled out hours ago. you were getting nowhere like this, you both knew it and the only way he knows how to calm the uncomfortable tightness through his whole chest, that creeps up his spine and rattles his stolid demeanor, is to throw himself into his work, and he does just that.
he hardly notices the sun set and the darkness throughout the study as he gets through contract after contract. only when the words on the parchment became not enough to distract him from your argument and he was finding it harder to ignore the emotions still coursing through his veins was he pulled from his work. despite the late hour there was still so much to be done, the night was far from over for him. he slips on his coat as he exits the study to head to the city but is stopped at the edge of the steps, his eyes drifting slowly towards your closed bedroom door. he swears he could choke on his heart in his throat. he does his best to swallow it, and takes some solace in the fact the room is dark. hopefully that means you’ve found sleep.
he doesn’t even make it to the city before every ounce of his frustrations is used to fuel the burning flames in every swing of his claymore; every hilichurl, every abyss mage and treasure hoarder that was unfortunate enough to come in his path feeling the searing scorch of the uncrowned king of mondstadt.
as enemies lay defeated before him, proof of his anger, the feelings raging inside him turn from irritation at you for being stubborn, to confused frustration about the whole situation, to guilt ridden self loathing about his blindness and bullheadedness. why is it only now, as he analyzes the fight over and over, that he sees the tears pooling in your eyes, that he truly hears your words and that all you said came from nothing but concern for his health, all because you loved him and cared for him. it was him who was being stubborn. he pushed you away, he kept you at arms distance when you were so ready to accept all of him and tonight he pushed you even further from his heart but that was something he never wanted. without you -
his claymore clanks on the ground beside him as he tears off a sullied glove and rubs the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger before running his hand through his frazzled locks, trying to compose himself. archons he hates this. he hates arguing with you. he hates feeling so far away from you even though he knows he has no one else to blame but himself. he hates seeing you cry and even more than that, he detests being the one to cause your tears.
his aching heart leads him home, sending a plea to the universe that you’re still asleep and you will stay asleep as he holds you tightly against him, not caring how desperate his grip will be. he knows he messed up and when you awake tomorrow he’ll apologize from the bottom of his heart and keep his promise to do better, accept his consequences but tonight he can't be away from you any longer.
with quiet footsteps he makes his way up the grand staircase and to your shared bedroom, shaking hands quietly closing the door behind him. the sweet smell of you wafts faintly in the air and lessens the pressure tightly in his chest. hanging his coat on its hanger by the door, shedding his vest and changing from his day clothes to something more suited for sleep he wants nothing more than to crawl into bed with you. but as he steals glances at the bed, while normally hard to make out much through the drapes on the canopy, he notices how empty the bed looks. it has his heart pounding in his chest but he remains rational, it's dark and you often like to curl up, it’s oka-
he pulls back the drapes on your side of the bed, slowly at first, but when he sees the bed is completely devoid of you his body goes rigid, the heat his worried heart flares up nearly catching the drapes on fire. letting out what was supposed to be a breath to relax him, to not let his mind run with the worst of assumptions, with the fear he refused to let form fully until now- was this fight really enough for you to leave like this? had he lost you thanks to no other than himself, rather than the darkness that usually took those he loved- of perhaps he was the dar- no diluc. get a grip.
he had to think rationally before he burned all of teyvat down in search of you.
plenty of times you’ve fallen asleep on the couch while waiting for him to return, he hadn’t even thought to look there when he came home- his tunnel vision bringing him to the place you should be. gripping tightly onto the banister, he quickly makes his way down to the parlor and feels his barely held together calm slip completely when you’re nowhere to be found.
every door, even ones that don’t make sense- closets, the pantry, the cellar- are thrown open in search of you. every guest room that hasn't seen a guest in so long has the master's attention, one by one turning up empty, taking more of his sanity until he feels like he's suffocating. there’s only one more guest room left and he doesn’t waste a moment opening the door and lighting the candle by the bookshelf to illuminate the room and hopefully you.
he honestly isn’t sure how he makes it to the bed. he swears once he sees you laying in the normally untouched sheets his knees threaten to give way but nothing could stop him from holding you. he had to, if he didn't, what was the possibility this wouldn’t be real or that you’d slip right through his grasp while he was unable to do anything.. even if that chance was miniscule, it wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. he couldn’t imagine his life without you, more than anything else in this world he loved you.
shaking hands that grip and pull you harder than they intended to make it impossible not to be stirred from your restless sleep but you don’t question who it is, this warmth could only belong to him. you attempt to sit up to get a better look at him, to rub the sleepiness from your puffy eyes, but his arm wrapped around your middle and his other hand buried in your hair holds you steady against him, your face buried in the crook of his neck, tickled by soft vermillion locks.
“‘dil-”
“please forgive y/n..” he pleads softly. “i’m sorry for being so stubborn, i regret you see that part of me from time to time but y/n.. i.. i love you more than i know how to express.. i will do better for you. i can’t- i can’t lose you.”
“lose me?” your tired mind finally registers just how hard his heart is beating against your chest, how his breath is uneven, that his grip on you keeps growing tighter with each passing moment. it's almost crushing but you don’t protest, you need it just as badly as he does. pressing your head against his shoulder, accepting him completely, you speak honestly and hope he’ll hear the love behind your words. “‘luc, i’m not going anywhere.”
“i don’t know what i’d-”
“my love, you don’t need to worry about that,” your lips find his exposed neck and you place a tender kiss against his porcelain skin. “i’ll always be by your side. nothing will change that.”
you swear you feel his heart skip a beat. “i do not deserve you.”
“that is far from the truth. you are deserving love and everything you could ever hope for-”
“you are all i hope for, all i need…”
his confessions of love continue, each one stealing your breath away, melting away any lingering sadness from your fight. he leaves you blushing, speeches and you can’t help but cling to him. all of his promises, all of his apologies, were so full of honesty and love, they consumed you, dilucs love encompassed you and you melted against him, your heart so full you didn’t know what else to do but cry.
somewhere in the eternal warmth of his love and words he had lifted you up higher to rest his forehead against yours, to feel your touch, leaning into every brush of your fingers behind his ear as you moved hair out of his face and returned his love in kind.
only celestia would know how long you spent spilling the contents of your hearts until tears of love and pure exhaustion brought you both to sleep in each other's embrace, in a bed that wasn’t your own. but it didn’t matter, wherever you were together the flames of your hearts burned brightest and couldn’t be torn asunder.
genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#diluc ragnvindr#diluc ragnvindr angst#diluc ragnvindr x reader#genshin impact angst#diluc#diluc angst
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In A Rut (Monster!Hawks x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)
Pairing: Keigo “Hawks” Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Coworkers to Lovers)
Synopsis: You haven't seen your boss around the office in a while ever since he started feeling "under the weather", but when you decide to visit him one day to cheer him up with some soup, you realize that this isn't a normal spring cold. Your boss is in heat and you, his good little assistant, are the only one who can help him cure it.
Warnings: Monsterfucking; Monsterfucker!Reader; Mild Power Play; Boss x Assistant; Mild BDSM; MDom/fsub; Marking; Heat Symptoms; Hawks Has a Big ol’ Dick; Deepthroat; Cunnilingus; Sloppy, Rough Sex; Scent Play; Overstimulation; Ownership; Multiple Orgasms; Multiple Creampies; Multiple Positions; Cum Play; Aftercare
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: Happy spring, y'all!! 💐💐🌼🌼🌻🌻 Fucking FINALLY winter & the cold is gone! Now that the weather is heating up, I wanted to write something about my favorite birdman suffering from heat. Enjoy! -Jazz
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You’re worried about Mr. Takami.
Or “Hawks” as he’s told several of his employees, staff, and interns to call him around his agency time and time again. But as his personal assistant for over a year, you take respect and professionalism very seriously.
Hawks is one of the most laidback bosses you’ve had in your professional career. He doesn’t make you fetch coffee unless you’re getting some for yourself, he’s flexible with deadlines, he lets you go home early despite the workload, and has all of his employees take off on Fridays…which he also pays for.
Though it’s a nice change, you also can’t help but be wary of Hawks. It isn’t that he’s a bad guy. He is considerably nice––always greeting you in the mornings; checking up on you in the afternoons; letting you use his office when he isn’t in it, etc.
But he is also extremely cocky. It comes with the territory of being pro hero #2, you suppose, but the way he saunters into the office every Monday through Thursday in his designer clothes and Rolex watch always rubs you the wrong way.
Not to mention he’s a humongous flirt. Your friend calls it being “overly friendly”. She also says he doesn’t flirt with any other woman at his agency like he does you. He always gives you those charming smiles that seem to irk you to no end and puts that flirty lilt in his voice when he speaks to you. Not to mention the constant compliments on your outfits and work that stick with you until the end of your shifts.
Last week on Monday, the last day you saw him, was no different. You were sitting with your friend at your desk that morning, sipping on your iced coffee before the 9 AM meeting. Your friend was giving you the latest gossip on two employees hooking up in the stairwell during lunch last week when you both saw Hawks sauntering into the office.
“Shh, shh!” she hushes you even though you didn’t say anything. She straightened up and smiled at your boss, bowing. “Good morning, Mr. Takami,” she chirps. The blonde, in his navy blue suit and red bottoms, gave you each a smile that lingered on you for too long. “Ladies,” he greets.
You looked away, busying yourself by checking your email. “I’ve got your schedule and plans for today’s meeting for you,” your friend said, passing him a folder. “And your coffee, made by yours truly.” She nudged you, making you narrow your eyes at her.
“Ah, thank you!” Hawks happily sighed. “And I told you before: just call me Hawks. I don’t need all of that ‘Mr’ shit.” His golden eyes then trailed down to you, his stare making you feel uncomfortable in your long-sleeve blouse. “Thank you, Ms. L/N,” he purrs. “See you at the meeting?”
He gave you a wink, a hint at his joking manner, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He was always picking on you like this. “I’m required to be there as your assistant so, yes,” you replied, blandly so.
He didn’t think anything of it. “Good,” he hummed happily. “I’ll need my right hand when I get tired of talking or my coffee doesn’t kick in fast enough. Carry on.”
He gave you a flitting wink before walking off to his office for some time alone. Once gone, your friend fanned herself. “Oh, my God, he’s so fucking fine!” she groaned. You shushed her, hitting her arm. “Come on, his office is right there!” you hissed. “He might hear you!”
“But isn’t he so fine?” your friend went on, ignoring your warning. “You have to admit that he’s fine!” You chose your words carefully, stirring your straw around in your coffee. “He’s…okay,” you weakly replied. “But he’s our boss! Whatever I think of him doesn’t matter.” At least you told yourself that.
The meeting was about new anti-discrimination policies in workplaces and merging with UA High and Indeed to create a special job website for aspiring pro heroes and those with quirks.
You sat across from Hawks and Rumi, his friend and co-owner of the agency, who sipped on her coffee free of cream and sugar. “Took you long enough,” she grumbled to Hawks. “What, you forget to fluff your feathers this mornin’ or somethin’?”
You giggled to yourself at her joke before the meeting started. You met with Principal Nezu who happily bowed in front of the laptop personally set up to meet his eye level. “Good morning, everyone!” he exclaimed. “I appreciate all of you for your time today, including the Indeed associates, and for Hawks for allowing me to take you away from work for a moment. Now, Hawks, if you would like to share your opinion first?”
The pro sat back in his chair, legs crossed and glasses perched on his eyes. You secretly liked it when he wore glasses. “I think it’s a perfect idea,” he said with a shrug. “As I’m sure all of you know, my agency is open to all new talent, whether they graduated from UA or not. We don’t discriminate against anyone with a particular quirk or education. As long as they are willing to learn, respect our rules, and participate in training, we will hire them.”
“But what if the public has concerns about who we hire and whether they will be able to effectively do their jobs with no UA education or license?” one of the Indeed associates asked. Hawks smiled. “I’m glad you asked that.” He nodded at you, smiling warmly. “Y/N, would you mind answering this question? After all, it’s your wonderful brain that came out with such a well-thought-out plan for this.”
Though you flushed at the compliment, you pushed those butterflies away and stood. “This agency is not new to the scrutiny of the public,” you explain, poised and calm. “Hawks and Nezu-san are proposing the opening of a new pro hero license program for those who cannot afford UA or are over the age of 18. This program would include…” You continued just as you rehearsed, not looking at Hawks who looked dead at you, almost as if he was staring through your clothes.
When you finally finished, you sat and Nezu thanked you for your well-spoken words. “What is your opinion on that, Hawks?” he asked. The pro didn’t answer, too busy staring at you. Now his eyes were hooded and looked slightly sharper than they were before. You squirmed uncomfortably in your seat, mostly because of how warm his stare made you.
“Hawks!” Rumi hisses in his ear. The blonde blinked, snapping out of it. “Huh?” he dumbly asked, looking up at the screen. “Are you alright?” Nezu worriedly asked. Everyone was staring at him, including you. He had never acted like this before. “Yeah, just…” He paused, clearing his throat as a flush appeared on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
Nezu repeated himself, asking for Hawks’ opinion on the internship program and when he’d prefer to announce it. “It is the spring already, but I believe the summer is when most of my student body will be looking to do internships,” he explained.
You watched as Hawks’ eyes grew wide at the mention of spring, but he did his best to keep it lowkey. But you noticed. “U-Uh, yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll do it in April.” You also noticed his body language for the rest of the meeting: his knee bouncing anxiously; his eyes flicking from yours to back at the screen or down at his papers; his cheeks flushed red.
Was he sick? Was it the coffee you made? After the meeting, Rumi confronted him on it, grabbing his elbow. “Hey, what the hell happened in there?” she asked. “You looked like you were about to deck Y/N!”
“I…sorry,” he huffed. “I just…” He paused, seeing you and his eyes roamed over your lower body in your pencil skirt. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he quickly replied before rushing off to his office. You followed him. You don’t know why you did. Maybe you felt obligated to do so as if his assistant. Maybe you just needed to make sure he was okay.
So you knocked on his door, tentatively so. “Come in,” he raggedly said. You opened the door and automatically closed it behind you. Hawks leaned against his desk, his back to you, breathing concerningly hard like he just got off the treadmill.
“Mr. Takami?” you questioned. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you walked farther into his spacious, high-rise office. “Hawks, is everything alright?” Hawks didn’t look at you as he spoke: “Y-Yeah,” he replied, still sounding winded. “What’s up?”
You stood two feet away from him, afraid to get near. You didn’t want to spook him or cross any boundaries. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be writing a ‘thank you’ email on your behalf to Nezu-san and the Indeed associates,” you lied though you were planning on doing that anyway.
But Hawks shook his head. “Don’t bother. You did a good job today, Y/N.” His voice sounded so off. It was usually light and syrupy, but now it sounded deep and raspy. It did things to you.
“Did I do something wrong?” you blurted, confused at his strange behavior. The blonde quickly shook his head, turning slightly towards you. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his forearms and the feather tattoo on the inside of his left wrist. “No, no, of course not!” he protested. “I’m just…not feeling well.”
“Well, you know you can always go home,” you said. “We can hold down the fort here like we always do.” Finally, Hawks turned around and you saw how flushed he looked, his cheeks a rouge hue. He gave a smile that felt too intimate. Too adoring. “Thank you,” he sighed. “That’s so like you. Always so professional. Always so sweet.”
He took a step toward you and instinctively, you took a step back. “M-Mr. Takami?” you weakly asked. He continued to walk to you until you finally stood with your back to the wall, unable to escape him. His cologne clouded your senses, the scent of sweet and spicy invading your nostrils as he stopped in front of you.
“Y/N,” he began, his voice breathlessly and soft. “I…” He stopped, raising his hand to touch you. And then he stopped, dropping his hand and using it to cover his mouth instead. “I-I’m sorry,” he muffingly said. “You should go. I don’t wanna get you sick.”
Quickly, he reached beside you with his free hand and opened the door. The sound of chatter, coffee machines, and ringing phones smacked you back to reality. “You should go,” he said, his eyes willing you to do so. So you did and he shut the door in your face, leaving you feeling breathlessly and hot.
That was over a week ago. After the work day, Hawks headed home and sent out a staff meeting the next morning about being out because of a “spring cold”, but he’d be back soon. “Soon” hasn’t come yet. You haven’t heard anything from him in days!
It’s starting to worry you. A spring cold can’t last this long. Is it the flu? Is it something else? Plus, no one can seem to get in contact with him. What if something bad happened to him?
These worrying thoughts swim in your head all week every time you see Hawks’ empty office.
Finally, you reach your breaking point. You’re not going to call, text, or email him. You’re going to be a good assistant and instead, bring him something to let him know that you’re checking on him. Something to make him feel better. So on Friday, you leave work after your shift and stop by your favorite cafe to buy a bowl of their best chicken noodle soup.
You then drive to Hawks’ penthouse on the Upper East side of the city having kept his address to deliver things from work to his house if need be. When you park your car, you walk to the front door and click a button to buzz to his room. At first, nothing happens, so you press it again. Finally, on the third buzz, someone answers.
“Yeah?” a deep, raspy, growly voice barks. It startles you. “Uh…I’m sorry, do I have the wrong room?” you ask. “I’m looking for Keigo Takami.” The other end of the line pauses and you think that they left. “Y/N?” they ask, sounding shocked. “Why are you here?”
You blink at the speaker, shocked that this is your boss talking to you. Why does he sound like that? Is he that hoarse? “I came to give you some soup,” you say, suddenly shy. “I haven’t heard from you in days, so I bought this just to let up your spirits. That must be some cold.”
You wait for a response, but when he never gives it to you, you begin to feel stupid. This was a mistake. “Well, I’m gonna go now, but I’ll give it to your doorman so he can–”
“Don’t,” Hawks interrupts though he still sounds strained. “Come up.” You scowl in confusion, wondering if you misheard that, but then his doorman is meeting you at the front door to guide you to the elevator up to Hawks’ penthouse with the soup.
You take the elevator up, your heart pounding and your hands shaking slightly as they hold the soup. You almost explode from your nerves when you finally make it upstairs and the doors open, revealing Hawks’ beautiful, luxurious, and empty penthouse with an included gameroom, private gym, balcony, pool, mini bar, and expensive-looking kitchen. But he is nowhere to be found.
You walk further into the living room, your heels clicking across the hardwood floor. “Hawks?” you call. You don’t get any answer right away. The home is uncomfortably silent, making you feel paranoid. “Hawks!” you call again, louder this time. “Where are you?”
“Upstairs!” he rasps from the staircase leading to the upper floor. “Don’t come up here!” He sounds so pained. In such agony. You place the soup on the counter, confused and worried. What’s going on? Why does he sound like he’s in trouble?
Not listening at all to your boss’ warning, you slowly head up the steps, taking each tentative step further up in your heels. The hallway is dark when you finally make it upstairs, the only door open being the one at the end of the hallway. It is cracked and through it, you hear the sound of your boss’ soft pants and grunts of pain. Hawks’ bedroom.
Though something inside of you is telling you to turn around, you persevere and walk towards the bedroom. Slowly, you push the door open, revealing a dark masterbedroom with drawn curtains blocking out the outside world. “Hawks?” you tentatively question. “It’s just me. I just came to–”
“Go away!” he bellows from inside. “I told you not to come up here!” You jump, startled by the volume of his voice. He’s never yelled at you in such a way. You poke your head inside and gasp at the absolute mess of his bedroom: furniture askew; clothes and empty water bottles discarded on the floor; a rumbled mess of red sheets on the bed.
The smell in the air is thick with sweat and something else. Something tropical. Coconut oil? You look towards the king-sized bed where a heap sits hunched under the sheets which move up and down as it pants heavily. You thought it was just a pile of clothes at first, but no. There’s something under there.
“Hawks?” you question, your voice wavering in fear. The strange heap stirs, reacting to your voice. It breathes raggedly, almost as if it can’t get enough air in its lungs. “Hawks, what’s going on?” you demand. “Tell me. I want to help you.”
But he turns away, the sheets shifting as he does. “You can’t,” he whines. “You can’t.” Not being able to take how he sounds anymore, you storm over to the bed and snatch the sheets off of him. There, under the covers, you see your boss with your own two eyes. “H-Hawks?” you whisper. “Is that you?”
You almost can’t believe it. He has gotten much bigger in the past couple of days since you’ve last seen him, his muscles almost bulging. His pecs are ridiculously big, his nipples hard and perky, and veins protrude from his forearms and hands. Speaking of hands, they barely resemble human hands anymore. Red feathers sprout from his skin and long, sharp talons have grown out of his fingernails like knives.
When he looks at you, his face is flushed and his eyes are nothing more than red slits, those warm, golden irises gone. But all of those things aren’t even the most shocking to you. You are more shocked by the size of his wings. They have doubled in size, nearly taking up the entirety of the bed, and are red as the purest blood. His feathers shake and ruffle as if someone has run their fingers through them, disturbing their peace.
He looks shocked to see you and then embarrassed. “I didn’t want you comin’ up here,” he pants. “Didn’t want you seein’ me like…this.” He shifts and sits up so the sheet falls off of him, revealing his naked body to you. He is flushed and coated in sweat all over his tan skin and toned muscles. Your eyes trail down his abs and V-line to his cock which is way too obvious to look away from.
He is big and throbbing, the head a blush red and dripping in precum. One mouth-watering, angry vein trails from his shaft up to the head of his cock that twitches. Hawks winces, not looking like he is enjoying this at all. In fact, he looks like he’s in complete agony. You can’t be embarrassed or mortified by this when he looks so awful. “W-What happened to you?” you softly gasp.
He covers his throbbing dick with the sheet, but it’s no use. You can still see it protruding from underneath it, creating an obvious tent. “I’m in heat,” he sighs. “It’s what us mammals go through around this time. A spring thing.”
He wipes the sweat off of his forehead, his blonde hair soaked in it. “That’s why I’ve been hiding,” he explains. “I’ve been here tryna get through this, but I just…can’t!”
He grabs at his hair, running his hands through it. Now you understand it: his absence; the transformation; the smell of coconut oil in the air. You feel yourself blush, feeling hot in your clothes. All of this because he’s horny?
“How long does it last?” you curiously ask, but you’re not even sure you want to know. Hawks sighs, looking doomed. “Either a day or months depending on if my heat is satisfied.”
“Months?” you gasp. “Are you in pain?”
Hawks’ face screws up, triggering something in your core. “Terrible, baby,” he groans, wrapping a hand around his cock, his talons long enough to curl around the entire thing...and he’s at least 12 inches. “I can’t even sleep. I’ve been up for days, sweatin’ through my sheets and tryin’ to cum as many times as I can.” He releases himself and looks down at his hands, clenching them. “But my hands don’t do it for me anymore and I broke my fuckin’ toy.”
He nods at the fleshlight you didn’t even notice lying near his nightstand, completely broken in half. He completely tore that pussy out the frame, you realize in shock. What the fuck could he do to a real one? “O-Oh,” you exhale.
“Yeah,” he sighs, running his hand down his sweaty face. “I’m sorry about this, Y/N, really. I didn’t want anyone seein’ me like this.” He looks away from you, appearing so utterly humiliated and ashamed that it pains you. You find yourself not liking him like this: so utterly downtrodden and hopeless. “What can I do?” you blurt.
He faces you, his slitted eyes widening. “What?” he gasps. “What do you–”
“I wanna help you, Hawks,” you cut in, already taking off your cardigan to reveal your pretty, pink blouse underneath that you paired with a skirt. “What can I do to help you get through this?”
He watches you, looking completely stunned and mortified, but his cock also twitches at the sight of your outfit. “No, no, baby, no,” he protests. “Y-You can’t…you don’t need to do this.” But you stand firm on your decision, refusing to leave him like this. “I know I don’t need to,” you firmly respond. “I want to. Just look at you! I can’t let you go on like this.”
Hawks still doesn’t move, but his cock begins to leak pre for you, dripping down his thick thighs and onto the mattress. The sight is so lewd but so arousing, making your pussy throb indeciently in your panties. You shouldn’t be doing this. There are so many consequences you could face from this…but you also find that you don’t care right now. “Let me help you, Hawks,” you whisper. “Just tell me what I need to do to help you. I’m your assistant, after all.”
A fire explodes behind Hawks’ eyes, lit with lust and need. A low growl leaves his chest and you find that he has fangs in his mouth. The sight scares and thrills you. “You wanna help me?” he asks in his low, deep voice. “Then take off your clothes.”
You swallow hard, feeling like you just dry-swallowed a gigantic pill. You start with your blouse, your painted fingernails teasing the buttons before you begin to pop them open one by one. You expose your lacy bra to him, one of your favorites because of how it makes your breasts look: pretty, juicy, and appetizing with the lace trim of the cups adorning them.
You peel off the blouse and let it fall to your feet. Hawks barely notices it, too busy staring dead at your chest. He slowly begins to pump his cock with his hand, lewd, wet sounds of his pre and coconut oil acting as lubricants drifting to your ears. Under his laser-eyed gaze, you feel like an animal being watched behind a cage. A specimen. It makes you feel slightly uncomfortable, but also hot and bothered to see that you’re affecting him so deeply.
You then move to your skirt and begin to unzip it, but Hawks puts a hand out to stop you. “Slowly, mama,” he raggedly says. “Don’t rush this.” Biting your lip, you slowly drag the zipper down and then slide the skirt off of your waist, leaving you in just your matching bra and panties. You go to take off your stockings and heels, but he stops you. “Leave ‘em on,” he demands.
So you stand there, arms at your sides and trembling like a leaf. “Turn around,” he orders, his pink lips parted as he continues to fuck his hand nice and slow. You listen and turn, exposing your ass to him. “Ah, shit,” he hisses, soft pants leaving his lips. “I knew you had a nice ass.”
You bite your lip, feeling your pussy flutter and throb impatiently. “Sit on the bed and bend over for me,” he orders. “I’m not gonna touch you. I just wanna see you rub that pussy for me, okay?”
You turn around, staring down at your shoes. “Yes, sir,” you whisper and flush at your words. They just came out of you, as naturally as breathing.
Hawks shudders, affected by your reply. “Such a good girl,” he sighs dreamily. “I’ll definitely take that over just ‘Hawks’ right now. But ‘Keigo’ works too.” Your face grows hot with a blush, having never referred to him by his first name before. Not wanting to waste his time, you slowly get on the bed and face away from him, your feet tucked under your butt.
Then you bend over for him, your back arched. “Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, softly panting and the move bouncing slightly from his ministrations on himself. “Pull those panties to the side, baby. Let me see you.” Biting your lip so hard that you’re sure to draw blood, you pull the thin strip of cotton covering your sodden, wet, puffy pussy to the side and expose all of you to him.
Hawks shudderingly moans at the sight of the wet strand of your arousal connected from your pussy lips to your panties. “God, mama,” he groans. “You have the prettiest pussy. Look how wet you are!” He growls once more, sounding so much like an animal. “You like what you’re doin’ to me?” You can tell he’s started to stroke himself harder, faster, his pants and heavy breaths becoming more intense. “Keigo,” you softly whimper.
You’ve never been this horny before. Your pussy is about to slide off the bone with how wet it is.
“That’s right, say my name,” he groans. “Play with your pussy, baby. Don’t let me do this alone.”
So you do. You sneak your hand down your ass, teasing him before you begin to rub your cunt for him in time with his strokes. A weak moan leaves your lips as you rub your clit in tiny, firm circles, your ministrations impassioned by the sounds leaving Hawks’ lips. He sounds so desperate. So slutty as he pumps his cock, imagining that he’s doing so to your pretty, little pussy. “So fuckin’ cute,” he says, agonized at your beauty and sexiness. “How the fuck are you this adorable?”
You want to look back and see him, but you get the feeling that he doesn’t want to be watched, so you instead close your eyes and drift away at the sounds of his moans and his lubed cock fucking his hand, making the bed bounce slightly underneath you. You imagine that he’s fucking you like that, his big hands gripping your ass and talons digging into the fleshy part of your ass cheeks. You can almost feel his cock stretching you out, pumping you full again and again as he uses you, doing his best to not break you like he did his fleshlight.
Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “K-Keigo!” you whine. “Fuck, I’m about to cum!” Hawks groans at your warning, happy to hear this. “Uh-huh,” he pants. “Do it for me, baby. Cum all over those fingers for me.”
And you do. You rub and flick your clit until it can’t take any more stimulation and explodes all over your hand. Your sweet moans of release push Hawks over the edge. “Fuck!” he bellows, his voice bouncing off of the walls as he cums in his hand, shooting warm cum all over his thighs and stomach. Your moans and whines mix with one another, creating a symphony of pleasure as you both cum together.
When the high of your orgasms finally fades, you both sit there for a moment, panting and sitting in the reality of your situation. “I…I’m sorry,” Hawks awkwardly huffs.
You don’t answer, unsure of what to say until you turn around and find that he’s still hard. “Keigo!” you gasp. “Y-You’re still–”
“I know,” he sighs, frustration evident in his handsome face. “Like I said, my hands ain’t doin’ it for me at this point. I need more.”
His slitted eyes, red as crimson blood, narrow at you, a deeper meaning in his words. You gulp, weighing your options but only briefly. You realize you’re thinking more with your pussy than with your head, but the curiosity of feeling Hawks’ wings wrapped around you while he fucks you is too tempting.
“Keigo, it’s okay,” you softly purr, putting a hand on his thigh. He flinches as if your touch burns him. “We can do more if you need it.” You then dip your fingers between your thighs and come back with them dripping in your cum. His cock twitches at the sight, but he doesn’t have to imagine how you taste for too long.
You lean forward and put your fingers to his lips. “Use me,” you say, a plea in your voice. “I’m all yours.”
Right then, something in Hawks snaps the moment he wraps his lips around your fingers and greedily sucks your cum off of them. He is no longer entirely human, his animal instincts taking over. He snatches you up and places you in his lap, emitting a small gasp from you at being yanked up so forcefully. “Just tell me ‘no’ if you want me to stop,” he orders. “And tap my thigh three times if I got my cock in that mouth. Understand me?”
Unable to reply, you wordlessly nod. That’s enough for him. Immediately, he’s on you, pressing a rough yet passionate kiss to your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip and swirling his tongue with yours. His kiss is brutal yet hot; forceful yet careful as he wraps you up in his arms and soft wings. It’s the best kiss you’ve had in your life.
And the sex he gives you by far trumps all of the other bedroom adventures you’ve had. You’re so glad he gave you a non-verbal safety precaution because Hawks takes the “use” thing literally when he finally gets his dick down your throat. He is as big and thick as he looks, your fingers barely being able to wrap around his girty, throbbing shaft.
You have to cover his cock in copious amounts of spit and coconut oil just to make it easier to stroke him, Hawks’ crimson, lustful eyes and soft moans encouraging you. “That’s it, baby bird,” he growls, one clawed hand in your hair. “Take me nice and easy.” Though he allows you to slowly take his cock down your throat, it doesn’t do much to ease the stretch of your jaw.
Unfortunately for you, Hawks’ heat gets the best of him and his impatience rises, making your time to adjust to his size shorter. When he grabs your hair and begins to fuck your face, you have no choice but to take it. He shoves his cock so deep down your throat that your eyes burn with tears and embarrassing, wet gagging sounds leave your mouth as you gurgle around his cock that throbs and pulses in your mouth.
“Thaaat’s my girl,” Hawks grunts, staring down at you throating his dick. “You’re takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird, y’know. You could make this a profession if workin’ as an assistant don’t work out.” He takes his cock out and taps it against your tongue, loving how slutty you look for him with your tongue hanging out and makeup a mess.
“Or you could add this to your duties of bein’ my little assistant,” he hums, smearing his cockhead across your plump lips. “You could fetch my coffee and take this dick over my desk every workday. How would that sound?” He doesn’t allow you to answer as he grabs you again and forces you down onto his cock, groaning at how amazing your wet tongue and soft mouth feel. “God!” he groans. “I hope your pussy is this fuckin’ tight.”
His curiosity gets the best of him. After a few minutes of fucking your throat like it’s a toy, he pulls out with a moan, giving you heart eyes at the image of your messy hair and sloppy mouth dripping in spit. He holds your face in his big hands, his talons gently caressing your cheeks. “On your back,” he orders. You must go too slow for him because he tosses you down onto your backside himself and quickly ducks between your thighs, his big, feathered hands parting them.
“K-Keigo,” you stammer, but that’s all you can get out before he’s cutting the waistband of your panties off with his teeth and sliding his big, fat, wet tongue all over your slit.
All words cease to exist as pleasure washes over you which only builds the more his tongue swirls against your clit and inside of you. Your eyes widen and your hands dig into the skin of his muscular back that flexes as he dips his head low to eat you out. His soft wings caress your skin as they wrap around you, making you feel like you’re being pampered from all ends.
Hawks knows how to run his mouth, but also knows how to work it. His tongue moves magically inside of you, slurping up your juices as his nose and soft lips bump against your clit. You grind your hips up into him, meeting his tongue thrusts while his talons dig into the fleshy parts of your ass.
You can’t keep quiet, too enveloped in the ecstasy you’re feeling. “God, yes, Keigo!” you whine, bucking your hips up. “That feels so fuckin’ good! Keep going, please, ooooh, shit!”
Hawks gladly takes all of those lovely sounds, moaning into your cunt. He is a rapid, ravenous animal, slurping up your pussy like he’s yearning for it. “So good,” he whines into your clit. “So fuckin’ good.”
Your orgasm comes rather quickly, that knot in your core threatening to snap as he continues to work his tongue in and out of you. “Fuck, Kei!” you sob. “I’m gonna fuckin’ cum! Please let me cum, sir please!”
“Mmm-hmm,” Keigo hums, sucking gently on your pussy lips. “Do it for me, baby bird. Cum all over my fucking face.” He goes back to eating you out, moving his tongue against that little spot up and inside of you that makes you see stars. “Do it,” he growls in his deep, gravelly voice. “Fuckin’ cum for me. Give it to me now!”
A scream erupts from you–”Oh, shit!”–as you explode all over Hawks’ tongue. He moans in release with you as he slurps and laps you up, drinking in all that give him while you buck and writhe under his hands. Even when the orgasm high fades, he doesn’t stop. He continues to eat you out even as your pussy and body twitches. “O-Okay, Hawks,” you stammer. “Please, ah, please stop. I-I can’t…oh, my God!”
Tears prick your eyes as the agonizing pleasure continues, swallowing you whole. His crimson eyes stare up into yours between your thighs, loving how desperate and pathetically horny you look as you writhe against his tongue. But as good as you taste, he needs to know how you feel. So he hikes himself up on top of you, his big body covering your smaller one, and his wings creating a curtain around you.
“I’m gonna be honest with you, baby,” he pants. “I need to fuck you now and when I do, I ain’t gonna be nice. I need to cum as many times as it takes to ease this heat and that could be hours. You sure you’re okay with that?” Despite his obvious need, he is holding back, his cock throbbing against your thigh.
Knowing that, you nod and press a kiss to his lips. “Yes, Keigo,” you purr. “I want this too.” You give him a smile, pretty and seductive. “So fuck me.”
The pro doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts by fucking you on your back, your knees tucked up into your chest. You’re happy for the lubricant and orgasm because it is a stretch. His cock stretches your pussy out in a way it didn’t do to your jaw, making your mouth go slack and your eyes widen. “Relax, mama,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your face while he rubs your clit. “You’re doin’ so well takin’ me.”
After a few minutes of adjusting and slow strokes, Hawks feels you relax around him and finally begins to pound you like he needs to. He fucks you into the mattress that shakes and bounces beneath you, making your tits bounce in time with his thrusts. Each pump of his thick cock sends sparks of pleasure throughout your body as your soft, spongy pussy walls stretch and mold into his shape.
“O-Oh, my God!” you cry, grasping his shoulders as he takes you straight to poundtown. “Fuck, Keigo, yes, baby! Fuck me just like that!”
The winged pro grips your thighs and pins them down to the bed, giving you a stretch that yoga couldn’t even do. “Just like that?” he teasingly asks, smirking down at you. “Look at you takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird. Bet you couldn’t wait for your boss to fuck you, huh?”
You whine in response, earning a tongue shoved in your mouth as Hawks gives you a wet French kiss while he pounds into you. He nuzzles his nose into your neck next, covering himself in your scent and you in his.
You’re so deep in the pleasure that you don’t even realize that Hawks’ feathers, sharpened to the touch, cut off your bra until you feel the cool air on your nipples and then pleasure as he stimulates them with his feathers.
When he begins to get closer, his crimson eyes glow red and the black rimming his eyes grows sharper like a hawk’s. You feel scared yet aroused at the same time, your pussy clenching around his cock. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” he grunts. “Gonna fill you up. Want you to fuckin’ cum with me too!”
“Fuck, Hawks!” you whine, tossing your head back against the pillow. Your second orgasm erupts and sends you on a trip while Keigo fucks you like he’s trying to hit a home run. When he cums, he does so with an animalistic grunt and grips your hips so hard that they bruise. He tosses his blonde hair back, every muscle in his body tense from the pleasure. You gasp as he fills you up with his cum, feeling warmth flooding inside of you. It feels good to be full, you realize.
But even when the orgasm fades and he has successfully filled you up, Hawks looks down at you with an increased level of need and lust that shakes you. “I ain’t done with you yet,” he growls.
And he’s not. He fucks you in every single position imaginable. He fucks you doggy style, his cock pumping into you again and again while he yanks on your hair and dirty talks in your ear.
“You my little slut?” he pants, his hand grabbing and smacking your ass. “You love gettin’ fucked by me? You love this number 2 pro hero dick, don’t you, baby?” You can only whine in response, words and logical thoughts completely gone as he turns your pussy into mush.
He fucks you on your side, his big body spooning yours and red wings wrapped around you as his throbbing cock drives inside of you. In this position, it’s easier to rub your clit and tilt your head back to kiss him, the two of you sharing breath as you hotly pant and moan into each other’s mouths.
He fucks you with your head hanging off the bed and your leg pinned up to get a better angle at your G-spot and to drive himself deeper into you.
He fucks you in mating press, his feet on the bed as he mounts you and drives himself inside of you like he’s trying hard to breed you.
He fucks you in full nelson.
In prone bone, his hands massaging your ass.
While standing up, you bouncing like a cute little fuck bunny in his arms on his dick.
From the bottom while you ride him, both from the front and the back, his hands groping your bouncing tits and jiggling ass.
“Mine,” he growls to you in every position known to bed that he puts you in. “You’re fuckin’ mine, baby bird. Only mine.”
And in every single position, he makes you and himself cum. He seems to always know how to trigger your orgasm so you cum again and again. He then uses your tight walls to chase his orgasms, cumming inside of you and filling up over and over again. He makes you sweat out your hair and your makeup, making you look like the sexiest Goddess to him as you take his cock like it’s your job.
By the time he finally finishes, hours have passed and you are spent. Your body aches. You are wet with sweat and cum. Your pussy twitches and is sloppy with his and your cum mixed together, all of it dripping down your thighs and through the crack of your ass.
Hawks, finally back to his normal self, lies down next to you and snuggles you into his chest. “Thank you for doin’ that,” he sighs, pecking you on the forehead. “You did so, so well for me, honey. I hope a dinner date can make up for that workout.”
You only mewl tiredly in response, but you wrap your arms around him and snuggle into his chest. He chuckles, the sound pleasant to your ear pressed against his heart. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he sighs.
And then you sleep, satisfied and comfortable finally.
THE END.
#hawks x black reader#hawks x black!reader#hawks smut#keigo aka my husband#keigo takami x black reader#black fanfic writer#smutty smut#my works#black coded reader#bnha smut#black writers#keigo takami#tw monsterfucking
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CHRIS STURNIOLO BF HEADCANONS ⋆˙⟡♡
warnings: none, just fluff!
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⭑ you better have tylenol, and a whole bunch of patience if you’re with this boy.
⭑ so much energy and expects you to be on the same level as him.
⭑ sometimes he’ll tone it down if you’re having a bad day or if you just need some quiet time.
⭑ at the end of the day, he’s so exhausted that he doesn’t even say goodnight, just knocks out.
⭑ you and chris are cuddled up on his bed, enjoying each other’s presence when you decide to ask his opinion on something.
“chris what do you think about this hoodie?”
chris: 💀😴
you: 😐
⭑ BLANKET HOGGER. doesn’t matter how big or how small the blanket is, you’ll be left shivering while chris is bundled up with 50% of the sheets dragging on the floor.
⭑ on nights where he doesn’t immediately tap out, he’s resting his chin on your head while one hand is playing with your hair and the other caressing your arm while yapping your ear off.
“if you were a chicken, what kinda chicken would you be?”
“chris i swear to god.”
⭑ needs to be touching you in some way. And it’s not always sexually. small touches like, playing with your ears, hand on your thigh, or just playing footsies under the table, contact is his fav.
⭑ whenever he’s in disagreement with his brothers about something he makes sure to throw you into the mix and ask your opinion cus lets be real, you almost always agree with him.
⭑ randomly jabs your side to tickle you whenever there’s a moment of silence between you two.
⭑ asks your opinion on designs for his brand before launching anything. also makes sure you get at least one of every item he’s designed.
⭑ don’t think he’s the jealous or protective type. but if someone is making you uncomfortable he’ll definitely tell them to back off.
⭑ the media found out about you two on accident 💀.
⭑ chris was streaming one day and forgot to tell you but it was too late when you walked into his room unannounced in your grammy pj’s ready to knock tf out when chris let out a loud “ohhhhh shitttt..” when you realized that you were fucked.
⭑ you looked at chris and chris looked at you before you both shrugged your shoulders and went on with what you were doing, honestly not giving af atp.
⭑ comments flooding about who you were, tiktoks posted about you two with dating rumors, had to wait until the next day when chris posted on his story the both of you in skin care hello kitty masks facing the mirror with his arm around your shoulder and you leaning up to give him a peck on the face.
⭑ yeah, yall broke the internet.
⭑ you were featured in the next podcast with you and chris properly talking about your relationship.
⭑ after that chris would post you any chance he got. from cute insta stories, to goofy tiktok trends, he just wanted the world to know about his amazing gf.
⭑ PDA PDA PDA PDA. in the back of the triplets vlogs that you sometimes feature in, fans can spot you and chris in the background hugging with chris sometimes attacking you with kisses.
⭑ just a clingy guy tbh.
⭑ whenever you wake up from one you and chris’ shared afternoon naps to go find something to eat in the kitchen, chris makes his way to you like 2 minutes later and wraps his arms around your waste peeking over your shoulder so he can also have some of what you’re making.
⭑ loves going out and seeing things that remind him of you, but when he’s about to buy it and the store says “we don’t take apple pay” he’s upset for the rest of the day talking about “what fucking store doesn’t take apple pay”
“what kinda guy forgets his wallet…”
⭑ he ends up ordering it for you online 💀
⭑ overall a cute silly guy who just loves to love on you.
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A/N: i want him. im posting sm cus theres soo many things in my drafts guys, imma try to even my posting days out though, bare with me <3.
#chris sturniolo#chris#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo headcanon#fluff#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo
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baby-sitting for miguel o'hara.
miguel o'hara x m!reader headcanons.
part ii.
warnings: smut, perverted!miguel, stalker!miguel, top!miguel, bottom!male reader, small!male reader, weak!male reader, sir!kink, thoughts of sex, masturbation, fingering, spying, kinda dubcon (?), heavily focused on sweat and smelly musk (hehe).
notes: say hi to my first miguel story! i couldn't stop thinking about him ever since I rewatched the movie, tbh.
—at first, miguel was rather reluctant to hire you for babysitting.
—your experience was almost non-existent, if it hadn’t been for that one time you babysat your nephew… eight years ago. of course, you left that part of information out.
—but miguel deemed you trustworthy, concluded that so even before he ran a background check on you.
—and so far, he seemed correct.
—on the first day, he was just as nervous as you were, leaving his precious and sacred gift to the world with a complete stranger—it was frightening and if he had the choice, he wouldn’t have done this.
—he would tell you about the cameras installed throughout the house—mostly for the safety of gabriella’s, but your well-being was also a considerate factor in this choice.
—you were small, and if miguel said that you looked weak, you’d probably say a questionable thank you considering how quietly submissive you were towards him.
—later that first night, miguel knew he made the right choice in picking you (out of a measly three candidates, but still).
—you managed to get gabriella to sleep by her bedtime, one routine that miguel still hadn’t figured out yet.
—but to be fair, babies woke up and slept according to their own terms, so did they really have a bedtime other than day, afternoon, and night?
—like the first night of many, you bid him goodbye after being paid.
—goodnight, sir! i’m pretty much free all summer until my semester starts, so if you need me on stand by or something… go crazy!
—all right, I’ll keep that in mind.
—and… thank you.
—something ignited in him when you guys spoke. it must’ve been… what, your fourth interaction together?
—the first few have been more formal—interviewing you, introducing you to gabriella, and checking up on you with a phone call. it was limited, a thick barrier that miguel would put up between you and him because it was work—just work.
—even though he sent you off fairly quick, the interaction was long enough for him study you like he never did before.
—he never realized how handsome you were, optimism practically seeping from your smile to your voice. it was a stark contrast to his moodiness, strained by the constant amount of stress put on by work, and furthermore by an ongoing divorce case.
—but he liked you, more than he’d like to admit.
—miguel liked the way you would tuck your shirt into your pants. a younger version of him would’ve labelled you a nerd, church boy even.
—but he found it attractive when the fabric laid on your chest with the right amount of tightness—a slightest exposure that would have him staring for an embarrassing amount of time.
—he also found it attractive when the peak of summer closed in on you.
—one day, you would show up at his doorstep in shorts.
—you preferred walking.
—no wonder you were so radiant to him, you practically soaked in the sun every day before you two would meet.
—sorry if i look like a mess, sir- i look gross, don’t i?
—that feeling in him returned again, churned like butter as he would watch the sweat calmly roll down your aching legs.
—i’d be lying if i told you no, wouldn’t i?
—you were a mess, miguel would go on to agree to himself. not because of the way your hair sparkled in the sun as it latched onto sweat—but because of the way you were completely oblivious to how you made him feel.
—it only grew stronger with subsequent meetings.
—you can use my shower, you know. it’s gotta be uncomfortable to be sweaty in those clothes for—what—eight hours?
—no, no! I’m fine, sir. i don’t think it would be right of me to-
—well, just throwing it out there in case you needed to.
—next time, then!
—and the next time, you would carry an extra bag of clothes because you and miguel both knew the outcome.
—it was a proud moment when miguel could smell his body wash on you when you left that night.
—sure, he probably bought the most generic brand he could find. but he has never smelt that scent on you before, so it inflated his ego to know that you’d be walking home in his usual scent.
—sleeping in his scent.
—like every other night, a shower would mark the end of miguel’s day. it was his favorite pastime—all thoughts were left behind as soon as he stepped under the shower head, letting the warm spray of water wash him of stress.
—when he stepped out, something caught his eye in the corner of the tiled floor—something blue.
—your briefs.
—you forgot to take your briefs with you because you were rushing when you heard gabriella suddenly cry.
—it would’ve been off-putting by anyone else, but this was you.
—this was your briefs, miguel would then hold up like a trophy. a piece of fabric that would contain and cover you—touch your most vulnerable parts.
—with the current feelings miguel had for you, it would’ve been a missed opportunity if he simply threw it in the washer.
—so, he doesn’t.
—11 am. where miguel would usually find himself sleeping by this hour—he was inhaling the scent of your musk instead, scrunching your sweat-stained briefs to his face as he jerked off in bed.
—in all honestly, he was ashamed to admit that he loved the smell of your sweat.
—but miguel would nonetheless take deep whiffs, desperate to smell you in your most vulnerable state.
—and he comes at the very last second when he can.
—it wasn’t enough for him though, so miguel doesn’t waste a single second to jerk himself off again—his cum lubing his sensitive cock up with a generous amount of stickiness and slick.
—good morning, sir!
—(m/n), i thought i said that you can call me miguel?
—oh… right! sorry, that completely slipped my mind. i must’ve forgotten.
—never stop forgetting, miguel muttered to himself, fucking his heavy cock into the depth of your briefs.
—he loved the way you called him sir. it made him feel authoriative and only fueled his want and need to protect you—you and your weak body.
—you’d be powerless if something were to happen to you, and the chances of that happening were well in your wits since you continued to insist on walking home.
—unbeknownst to you, every night miguel would follow you in the shadows—an undisclosed bodyguard of some sort—until you reached home.
—even then, he wasn’t fully relaxed because most crimes always took place domestically.
—he would watch you from below, through your window, for quite some time, making sure your parents’ house was a danger-free zone.
—and it wasn’t until you took your pants off and began stroking yourself through those same blue briefs, that he was finally at peace.
—fuck... miguel stopped fucking into your briefs to take another whiff of the fabric until his nostrils stung—a mixture of you and him together now.
—the fabric clung around miguel’s cock as his thick precum was the only glue that pieced him and the presence of you together.
—he would think back to how you would suck on two of your fingers as you stroked yourself to nothing but lewd thoughts—your eyes tightly closed to visualize your perverted mind into reality.
—what are you thinking about? who are you thinking about? is it me? are you thinking about my cock?
—the air in his bedroom has gotten heavier, thick with sex as he sweated under the cloud of you fingering yourself with the clumsiest yet neediest precision.
—he spat on his cock to slick it up again—because he could go on for hours—replaying back to the night where he watched you completely juxtapose with the innocent image he had of you prior.
—your hips were lifted up, legs awkwardly bent back as you dug into yourself, working your hole open deeper with one, then two, then three fingers because—miguel was right. like a spell, you were thinking of him and his cock.
—he had to be big, you were so sure of it. the fact that you strained your neck from looking up at him was a telling sign that he was, as ignorant as that was.
—and you were practically drooling at the thought of his cock stuffing you with the most fulfilling amount of pain and pleasure.
—you’d want him to be ruthless with you and show no mercy as he couldn’t care less about the way you whimpered and cried out for him to stop.
—fucking you from behind as his strong arms held you in a headlock, applying pressure that would frighten a choke out of you.
—because you were nothing but his fuck toy.
—it was all overwhelming for miguel on that night, almost too good to be true and he had to squeeze his cock through his sweats to make sure this was reality.
—you would confirm that it was, with the image of you coming all over your chest and stomach, all to the pathetic plunging of your fingers.
—and miguel does too, coming powerfully, to the point of shudders running down his broad back, into a part of your briefs where it would hold your own dick because he wants his smell to be imprinted on you, inked deep into your flesh.
—until you smelled like his.
nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
#✰ : nou.fics#✰ : nou.marvel#✰ : nou.miguelohara#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x male reader#miguel o'hara x m!reader#male reader#x male reader#spiderman x y/n#spiderman x you#spiderman x m!reader#spiderman x male reader#spiderman x reader#spiderman 2099#marvel x male reader#marvel x reader#marvel x you#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara headcanon#miguel o'hara headcanons#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara imagine#marvel headcanon#marvel headcanons#g: smut#miguel o'hara fanfiction#m!reader
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Steve Harrington is six years old when he first speaks to Eddie Munson.
Steve vaguely recognized him from school, sure that he was in the year above Steve, but he thought that Eddie hadn't looked as lonely in school as he had in the public library that day.
So, determined to make a friend, he decided to go over and talk to him.
He only hesitated because Eddie looked immersed in his book- that is, until some other kids went over and bothered him. They don't do much, only seem to jeer and knock his book down as they passed by, but Eddie looked upset.
Steve got up as soon as the boys left through the doors. Eddie was clearly just trying to enjoy his book- and a big book too, Steve had thought that it must be interesting for him to be so far into it.
"Hi," Steve greets. He gave a little wave and his cutest smile- even his mom thought it was cute and she was so busy in those days that she never noticed those smaller things. "What are you- you, um, reading?"
He stared at Steve blankly for a moment, seeming confused. "Lord of the rings. Why?"
"Thought it must be… interesting. It looks so long and you've, just… you've read so much!"
"Oh. Yeah, it's pretty fun. You read a lot of fantasy?"
Steve shifted, glancing away for a moment. Uncomfortable. "I don't really… read a lot. The words get a little, uh, confusing."
"The Hobbit is a little shorter? And it's part of the same world as Lord of The Rings. There's three of these ones."
"What are they about?"
Eddie lit up. He kept the explination short, not wanting to ruin the book. He paused a lot, tongue sticking out as he tried hard to think, constantly noting that 'it will make more sense when you read it' or 'but then a thing happens, but I can't tell you because it will spoil it'.
"And the- the trees talking is, like, normal in this world?"
"Yeah! It's all great!"
Steve didn't quite understand, but he loved how Eddie made it sound.
"You still think you'll read it?"
"Maybe when I'm a- a bit older. I don't think I'll really, uh, get it? It sounds real neat though."
"Do you think it might help if I read it out to you?" Eddie's smile dropped a little when Steve hesitated. He leant close, lowering his voice. "I had to have my uncle read it out the first time."
"Really?"
"Yeah. A lot of words I don't know and because he was reading them out, I could just ask him if I didn't get it. Plus, I kinda still like being read to. It's like having a personal narrator."
"Oh. And... that's ok?
"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be? Uncle Wayne says it is so it must be."
"Is your uncle really smart?"
"Super smart. He knows a lot."
"Ok."
"Ok?" Eddie perked up. "You want me to read to you? Because I've been practicing doing voices and it is really fun."
Eddie flipped the book back to the start.
"I'll only read a little. Don't wanna give anything away."
Steve was fascinated. Despite how much some of the voices wavered, Steve adored them. He had to bite the inside of his cheeks at times to keep from making noise, or commenting. He hadn't wanted to interrupt Eddies flow.
It took him a while to realize that he'd stopped checking the time and, by the time he did, it was almost too late.
"Oh, damn," Steve jumped up, wincing at how it made Eddie flinch. "Sorry! I have to go, my dad- I'm sorry."
"No worries," Eddie shrugged. "Will you be here next week?"
"Yeah, should be."
"I'll wait for you here, same time."
"Gocha!"
Steve scurried out, running out the door. He ignored the yelling for him to slow down, panting by the time he jumped into the back of his dads car.
"Sorry I'm late."
His dad hummed, raising an eyebrow at him in the rear view mirror. "Good day? Make any new friends?"
"Yeah! I met Eddie and he's really nice and cool. He read me some of this big book and he wants to meet me again, next week!"
Steve hadn't noticed the way his dad winced when he went on to describe Eddie. He was too busy thinking about the next week and how excited he was to spend another afternoon with his new friend.
But, the next week, his dad dropped him off with a babysitting. He made sure to tell her that Steve was to be kept away from the public library.
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