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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 7 months

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IF YOU ASK ME TO LEAVE, I’LL STAY FOREVER ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; satoru is stubborn; even when plagued by such a high fever, he insists there’s no need to take care of him. thankfully, you’re equally as stubborn.

word count; 10.8k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, implied non-sorcerer!reader, sickfic, reverse comfort, sickening amounts of fluff, lots of petnames, satoru gojo vs the mortifying ordeal of being loved, just a tinyyyy bit of angst if u rlly squint, literally just satoru being pampered for like 10k words straight, he’s cute when he’s sick but still manages to be a lil shit <33, he’s also a huge sap you have been warned!!

a/n; what can i say, im a proud member of the ”satoru gojo needs to be babied relentlessly” club <33 he’s just a little guy!! tagging @catchuuu my beloved for being the sweetest enjoy a healthy dose of sick sleepy satoru <33 i am tagging all toru enjoyers in spirit btw i love u all

you’ve never seen satoru like this before.

head buried into a big pillow, white locks tousled and sticking to his forehead — skin sweaty, hot to the touch, with a flushed face to match. heavy breaths fall from his parted lips, blinking in and out of consciousness, squeezing his eyes shut.

it’s nothing like the joyous, loud, cocky satoru you’re so used to. he’s weak. he’s fatigued.

he’s completely, undoubtedly sick.

”really, baby,” he slurs, raspy and dry. still attempting to raise himself up, arms straining under the weight of his shivering body. ”there’s no need f’ —”

unceremoniously, his limbs give out beneath him, and he tumbles right back down; a meek little wince escaping his throat as his face falls back into the mattress. the sound makes your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.

”ah. that’s…” he tries to speak, a disgruntled hum muffled by the sheets. ”… annoying.”

satoru sounds frustrated. you can tell he’s resisting the urge to close his eyes, a little helpless, unable to even move properly, like a fish out of water. he’s still breathing unevenly, still sweating, still burning up — you can practically feel it, from where you’re standing, crouched down by his bed.

you’ve never, ever seen satoru like this. you’ve seen him sniffling during flu season, wrecked with headaches during rainy season. you’ve seen him vulnerable; not many times, but enough that it matters.

but you’ve never seen him like this.

(and it makes you terribly anxious.)

”satoru, please just —” you croak, gnawing at your bottom lip. trying desperately to swallow the worry in your chest. ”don’t overdo it. please?”

you can hear the anxious little timbre of your own voice, and you can feel the frown tugging at your lips. but you can’t do anything to quell the insistent pitter patter of your heartbeat, the ache that accompanies it. satoru’s lying down, still trying to gather the strength to reassure you, even through the feverish haze clouding his mind.

he looks so small.

this wasn’t what you were expecting to see, today. you were expecting to meet up with satoru, and see his happy little grin, those tiny dimples and freckles that only show themselves in the light of the sun. you were expecting to feel the weight of his hand in yours, as you strolled down to the new crêpe stand he’s been wanting to check out since he first found their instagram account.

you were expecting to see him happy. healthy. a little obnoxious, a little annoying — but hopelessly sweet. all the love you could ever need, molded into a human shape. your little angel.

a sigh slips from your lips. you can’t help it; because satoru is just so stubborn, so closed off, and he can be such an idiot sometimes. you knew something was off the moment he sent you that text, asking you oh so charmingly, apologetically, if you could postpone your date for just an hour or so. you knew something was wrong, but he still wouldn’t let up until you brought out the 🥺 emojis.

and then he told you he was fine. it’s all he ever is, apparently.

my throat’s just a little scratchy, is all. wouldn’t want you to miss out on the voice you love so much, yeah?

give me an hour and i’ll be perfect for you. <3

moron.

he’s curled up in a fetal position, trying to stop himself from shivering, muttering little reassurances under his breath that you can’t make out. wearing ripped jeans and a nice jacket, like he was fully prepared to head out like this — like he genuinely thought an hour, some painkillers and a dream would be enough to chase away a fever this severe. like he was so desperate to see you he was fully willing to take that risk.

moron. moron. he should’ve called you the moment he realized he was sick. instead, you had to coax him into letting you come over, with a flurry of sad and cute emojis you know make him go weak at the knees when they’re coming from you.

and here you are. in satoru’s house, in front of his bed, trying to convince him that he is, in fact, sick.

but he just won’t listen.

”just — gimme a couple minutes, honey?” your boyfriend mumbles, barely coherent, stringing words together haphazardly. awfully dizzy. ”i just need the painkillers to kick in, i promise i —”

”satoru.”

there’s a sad tint to your voice, now. unmistakable. one that satoru notices, even through the feverish, muddy filter over his reality.

and it makes him quiet down.

(he doesn’t want to disappoint you.)

as gently as you can, you settle down on the bed, eyes painfully softened. overflowing with care. towering over him, leaning close — to press your lips against his scorching forehead, brushing away his sweaty bangs with a palpable tenderness. your voice soothing, coming out almost as a low coo. you’re frustrated, and exasperated.

but most of all, you’re worried.

”go back to sleep,” you hum, a gentle command. your hand finds his, cold skin meeting warm, tracing circles over his palm. ”i’ll take care of you.”

”there’s no need,” he mutters, instantaneous. so used to denying kindness.

but he curls an arm around your waist, anyway, tugging you closer; a little needy. like you’re much too far away for his liking. finally beginning to settle down, coaxed into resting by the soft touches your grace him with. it’s only a matter of time.

so you keep your lips against his forehead, cradling his slender fingers in yours, murmuring little whispered reassurances. and before you know it, his lashes have fluttered shut, like a white dove landing on the ground. he still looks so troubled, so meek. you can’t resist the urge to soothe him, hand cupping his face, thumb smoothing over the apple of his cheek. you watch him lean into it, eyes dripping with care. your poor baby.

for a couple precious moments, you allow yourself to indulge in the sight. even like this, he looks a bit like an angel, a painting come to life. like one wrong brushstroke could smudge him.

so you’re delicate, as you trace little hearts into his skin, delicate as you maneuver his body enough to peel the layers of clothing off him — leaving him in only an oversized tee and a pair of briefs. satoru can only whine, softly, so quiet you barely even hear him. so disoriented, on the brink of falling into a deep slumber. some part of him is trying to resist, you’re sure, still agonizing over the date he’s missing out on. as if anything matters more than his health.

but it doesn’t work. he can only let out a tiny groan, hopelessly pliant as you tuck him in, pulling a big blanket over his shoulders. you card through his hair, another soft kiss planted on his sweaty forehead — and your hand stays between his locks until you’re sure he’s asleep. his breathing mellows out, his grip around your waist loosens, seeking comfort from you even in his dreams.

you’d crawl under the blankets with him, but you have work to do.

stealing one final glance at your fever-ridden lover, your heartbeat ricochets. he still looks so meek, all warm and sweaty, shirt sticking to his skin. a frown tugs at your bottom lip.

satoru is always so stubborn, refusing to lean on others for support. you wish he had called you immediately, nagged at you to come baby him. sure, you might’ve sighed in faux exasperation, and teased him a little, but it still would’ve made you feel happy. useful. and you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. maybe, if you just prove that you can take care of him properly, he’ll do it next time.

so you stand up, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead one last time, and make your way towards the kitchen.

satoru’s house is spacious. a little too spacious, enough for at least three people to live in comfortably; nice furniture, an expensive sofa in the living room, a large tv you’re almost certain he only keeps around for white noise. such are the ways of the rich, you suppose. he doesn’t invite you over very often, so you’ve never had the chance to get very affiliated with the space. it’s always the other way around — him, waiting for you on the couch when you get home, chirping out an unconvincing don’t even worry about it, baby! when you ask how he got in without a key. or him, showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, filling the sleepy silence with jokes to distract you from the bags under his eyes.

(he likes it when you cling to him in your sleep — he sleeps a lot better that way. that’s what he told you, at least, when you brought him coffee in bed that one time. a little glimmer of honesty.)

he stays over so often he might as well just move in, but you aren’t really sure how to even approach that subject. some part of you fears it’d be too much, too intimate, that he’d pack his bags and run away. bringing all his secrets with him, that soft laughter you’ve grown so fond of. so you figure it’s better to let him make a home out of yours, let him curl up on your couch and snack on the candy you hid in your kitchen cabinets. that’s safe for him.

and now that you’ve seen his home up close — if you can even call it that — you think you’re starting to understand his preference. because it’s spacious, yes, but also empty. save for expensive furniture and fake houseplants, there isn’t anything to indicate that the apartment belongs to him, that he feels comfortable there. like he hasn’t even bothered to make it his. like it’s about to be sold, and you’re just one of the potential buyers, checking the place out. admiring the patterns of the floorboards and the walls.

it doesn’t feel like satoru at all.

his own bedroom was another story, a much more pleasant one. a lot more satoru. filled with little trinkets, key charms and souvenirs and silly figurines. a framed photo of three students by the windowsill, an old uniform hanging by his closet, socks strewn about here and there. a dying houseplant. comic books and movie posters and a ps5 you don’t think he’s touched since he finished spiderman 2. a king sized bed, that makes him look like a spoiled little princess when he’s lying in it, next to a cat plushie you won for him at a fair. knowing he actually sleeps with it kind of makes you want to cry.

there’s this particular scent, too, lingering in the air. mellow, nostalgic, the kind that soothes you with just a whiff; a blend between sunlight, expensive cologne, and something sweet. it clings to all his favorite clothes, to his skin. you’d live in it if you could.

something constricts, inside your chest — like thorny vines strangling your beating heart, pressing down ever so slightly. just thinking about it, about him, about his distressed expression as his head hit the pillow. making your way over to his kitchen, getting yourself affiliated with the space, preparing to make a good soup for his fever. the fridge is almost empty, save for sweets and that one drink you like. the takeout boxes on his kitchen table tells you all you need to know.

it only makes you worry more.

luckily, you were clever enough to buy your own ingredients on the way here. chop, chop, into tiny little pieces. chicken soup should help, shouldn’t it? it’s all you can focus on, all you can hope for. anything is fine; you just want to help him, be of use somehow. he does so much for you.

you just want to give some of it back.

satoru’s loneliness is a subtle thing. flexible, alert, slipping away at the slightest sign of knowing eyes. for someone who’s so often surrounded by people, cracking jokes and laughing louder than anyone else, he doesn’t seem to make any noise when he’s alone. he curls into himself, just a bit, and a kind of reminiscence smooths over the contours of his face.

that’s when you see him. that lonely, lonely guy. resigned to his self-imposed isolation, paradoxically yearning for something more. watching as the cherry trees bloom, like they’ll give him the answers he seeks once they bear fruit.

but the moment you come into view, he smiles. knowing you won’t push it — that you’ll let him take his time. that you’ll let him flee, just a little.

still, you can’t help but wish he’d lean on you a little more. you wish you could chase his loneliness away with a pitchfork, but it’s a fickle creature. you somehow doubt he wants to part with it.

all you can do is love him. love him, love him, and love him some more; until he’s had his fill.

(you’re not sure he ever will. it’s a good thing, a very good thing, because you’re almost certain you’ll never run out.)

and that’s why you’re here. in his ghost of a home, his kitchen, pouring water into a large pot. tender, sprinkling love over every single action, every slice and dice, every piece of chicken and veggies thrown into the boiling water. you try and you try, hoping it’ll reach him.

but before you can make another attempt, something reaches you, instead.

two long arms curl around your waist, suddenly, something warm and soft pressing itself against your back. and you almost flinch, completely caught up in the stirring of the soup, unsure of how much time has passed since you began. it jolts you out of your thoughts.

you know who it is, though. never mind the fact that he’s the only other person in the apartment; you know it’s him by his touch alone, the weight of his arms, that particular scent that surrounds him. like memories of summer.

it’s awfully sweet, the way he clings to you, the soft little blissful sigh that slips from his lips. but before you can feel moved at the domesticity of the gesture, worry clouds your senses. he doesn’t even get the chance to speak.

”satoru —” you place a palm on his forearm, craning your head to look back at him. his forehead rests against your shoulder, and his eyes are closed. he’s still so warm, too warm. ”what are you doing here? you should be resting.”

your boyfriend mumbles something, under his breath, something that your ears can’t quite digest. he shifts, a little, as if getting ready to put on some sort of act — to smile and joke, or laugh and tease you. you can imagine what he’d say if he wasn’t in such a feverish state; he’d hug you from behind, a low purr of what’cha up to? whispered right into your ear. then you’d jolt, and he’d giggle sheepishly, satisfied with the reaction.

but now, all he can do is cough. still leaning against you, gripping onto your midriff a little more desperately than usual. you step away from the stove, turning around, making sure your hands never leave his. looking up at him with concern in your eyes, noticing his little frown.

”c’mon, you need to lie down.” you reach for his cheek, cupping it in your palm, and he practically melts into it. enjoying the chilly sensation to his fever-ridden skin. “the soup’ll be finished soon, okay?”

”… you made,” he tries, syllables falling from his lips haphazardly. ”soup —” a series of coughs. they cut him off, and the worry in your chest only deepens.

“don’t push yourself, okay? you’re really sick, dummy.” satoru pouts, but doesn’t say anything, only clinging to you tighter when you usher him away. “let’s go back to your room, alright?”

but he won’t budge. he’s so sleepy, so sick and delirious, putting all his body weight on you. you try your best not to stumble beneath it.

”honey,” you plead, holding him securely in your embrace. his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. ”work with me, please? just gotta get you back to bed —”

”’s…” he whispers, suddenly, a raspy little thing. scratchy, meek, awfully earnest; you wonder if he’s too sick not to be. ”… too lonely without you.”

a moment passes. your breath hitches pitifully, at the base of your throat.

satoru is hugging you so tightly, as if you could disappear at any moment, slip away if he doesn’t keep you close. he’s holding you as if pleading for comfort, for a touch of safety. as if he needs you. if his meek little admission hadn’t already melted your heart the marrow, that thought certainly would’ve done the job.

taking a moment to collect yourself, you inhale, face surely aflame. satoru just nuzzles into your shoulder, too tired to say anything else, wanting to be close to you. it’s a wonder your knees don’t buckle.

gently, you let your hand trail upwards, palm smoothing down his hair. softly, like he’s a clingy, overgrown cat. ”sorry,” you start, just a little breathless. ”i’ll be with you, okay? won’t leave you alone. i promise.”

there’s an earnesty in your words that you doubt you could ever fake. satoru must hear it too, you think, because he finally begins to work with you. allowing you to stumble towards his bedroom, supporting his weight.

but once you make it to his bed, he still refuses to let go of you.

”toru, gotta go finish that soup. ’n make you some tea.” you rub his back, soothingly, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. shaking his head and emitting a throaty groan, only squeezing you tighter when you try to guide him under the covers. how cruel of him, to act so cute when said soup is most likely boiling over by the stove. ”please, sweetie? it won’t take long. i promise. you can go back to sleep.”

another groggy huff. you’re both still standing by the edge of the bed, and satoru still won’t let you leave. all you can do is sigh, smearing a little kiss against his neck.

he squirms, ever so slightly, and you get an idea.

so you keep pressing little kisses against his skin, knowing just how to make him melt. feeling him relax in your embrace, snuggle into your chest, so pliant that he lets you tuck him in — as long as your lips stay pressed against his jaw. before he can realize what’s happening, you grab hold of the blanket, draping it over him; his half-lidded eyes blinking up at you. you press a final kiss against his forehead, grabbing the cat plushie from the edge of the bed and placing it close enough for satoru to reach if need be.

”i’ll hurry, toru. be a good boy and stay here, alright?”

a teasing lilt sneaks into your voice, coaxed out by how adorable your boyfriend looks like this; baby blue eyes all droopy, snowy hair messy as it falls across the cushion he’s resting on. blinking sluggishly, grunting a little in response.

when you scurry off the bed and make your way towards the door, you glance back at him. he’s still looking in your direction, with half-lidded eyes, and your chest aches. ”i’ll be back soon, baby,” you try to soothe him. “try to sleep.”

this time, you hurry. body working almost on autopilot, images of your boyfriend still tugging at your heartstrings like he’s arranging an orchestra, moving your legs forward. before you know it, you’re walking back, carrying a tray with both your hands. steam wafts up from the hot soup and the warm cup of tea, shaking a little as you walk, a pair of painkillers in your pocket. just in case he needs more. an eager, pulsating joy rushes through your veins — now you can be with him, tend to him, not leave him alone in a room so like him you wish you could stay there forever.

your footsteps are light, almost careful as they cross the threshold. satoru stirs, waiting for you to come to his side, looking like a kicked puppy in his giant bed. he tries to lift himself up, but it looks like it requires an intense amount of focus, like his elbows could buckle any second.

”careful,” you croon, hurrying over, placing the tray on the nightstand. gently pushing him back down on the mattress. he complies almost instantly, too out of it to put up a real fight. staring at you, as if in awe.

to satoru, you appear almost as an angel, a somewhat blurry figure that he recognizes without looking. your very presence is soothing, like a lullaby in human form. with the hazy filter clouding his mind, he can’t even seem to form words correctly — all satoru can focus on is you. your movements, the lilt of your voice, a cold hand dulling the heat of his forehead.

his fever still hasn’t gone down. you try and muster a smile, but you’re sure it must look painfully coated in unease. crouching down, you place your elbows on the bed, your jaw meeting the mattress. you’re at eye level with him, now.

”hey,” you start, low and comforting. you don’t want to be too loud. ”sorry it took so long.”

using what little energy he has left, satoru crosses the distance between you, inching closer and closer. noticing it, you reach a hand out to cup his cheek — lips quick to find his forehead. a barely audible sigh leaves him, and you smile.

”d’you think you can eat?” you whisper, gazing at him fondly. treating him a little like a baby, maybe, but you can’t help it when he’s like this. quiet as a mouse. ”i made soup and tea… sound okay?”

he tries to make a noise. it comes out sounding like a strange blend between a dissatisfied groan and an affirming hum, but he still ends up nodding slightly. you wonder if indulging you is ingrained into his bone structure.

”… okay. think you can sit up, toru?”

once again, your boyfriend only hums — but he does begin to move, trying to hoist himself up, wobbling pitifully. you help, keeping him steady until his spine meets the headboard. slumped against it, he blinks slowly, feverishly.

”thank you.” you press a chaste kiss against his cheek, before reaching for the cup of tea, the scent of chamomile and lavender filling your senses. you blow on it softly. ”here. it should help with your throat, so try to drink a bit, okay? s’ got honey in it.”

silently, he accepts the cup, bringing it to his lips. when he takes a sip, you catch the slightest hint of a grimace on his lips; even with your warning of careful, it’s hot, you think he must have managed to burn his tongue.

satoru keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to worry you. but he can’t say bringing himself to drink it is an easy endeavor, with how sweaty it makes him feel, how it forces him to acknowledge how painfully dry his throat is. how he can’t even taste the herbs.

he wants to be good for you, though.

so he gulps it down, slowly, managing to sip almost all of it until you decide to give him a break. compared to this morning, he already feels just a little better, a little less like he’s in a fever dream. you’re sitting by the bedside, so patient, so caring. he can’t take his eyes off you, even now. clearing his throat, attempting to get used to speaking again. ”thanks.”

the mutter sounds strained, but slightly easier on the ears, easier to make out than before. courtesy of the honey, you assume. gosh, you hadn’t realized you’d begun to miss his voice so much.

”no problem,” you hum, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “think you can eat something? or is that too much?”

”’course,” he croaks. there’s a slight sense of liveliness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, but before he can continue, he’s caught off by a small coughing fit. harmless, but sufficient in making you worry.

”no need to force yourself,” you soothe, patting down his head, watching as he quiets down. the tea might’ve given him a temporary energy boost, but you still don’t want him to overdo it. “just relax, satoru.”

he hums, weakly, and you reward him with a light ruffle of his hair. then you direct your attention to the soup on the nightstand, still hot, smelling of vegetable broth and fresh chicken and coriander. you bring the bowl down to your lap, and take a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it like you did with the tea. bringing it towards his lips.

”i dunno if it’ll taste very good,” you admit, scratching absently at the back of your neck. ”but it should help with the fever, at least. i’d be happy if you could eat a bit.”

as his lips make contact with the metal of the spoon, satoru can’t help but let himself be swept away. he still feels a little too hazy, too feverish to really comprehend what’s happening; he feels oddly bare like this, vulnerable, a little afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he doesn’t keep it shut. so he opts to accept the treatment he’s receiving, not putting up a fight or making a fuss. not meeting your expectant eyes.

(he feels a little shy, being spoonfed by you. how very unlike him.)

the soup does feel soothing. he thinks he can even get a sense of the taste, how hard you must’ve worked on it. but more than anything, the way you’re acting is like balm to his soul — looking at him so kindly, treating him so tenderly. offering him spoon after spoon with gentle words of encouragement. being babied in such a way makes him feel so oddly content that he’s almost embarrassed. it should be the other way around.

yet here you are, spoonfeeding him soup that you made yourself, because he’s sick, even though he hates to admit it, and you care about him. he allows the information to linger in the back of his head, for a while, wallowing in the comfort it brings him. fully comprehending it would take too much of a toll on him, in this state.

satoru basks in the intimacy of the situation, and so do you. brushing strands of hair away when they stick to his skin, pressing your lips against his forehead to check his temperature. you keep doing it until satoru’s appetite dwindles.

”alright, that should be fine —” you glance down at the bowl, now roughly half-empty. more than enough, you think. ”uhh… how do you feel?”

”… better,” satoru answers, truthfully, the ghost of a smile on his glossy lips. ”thank you.”

for a second, you only stare, saying nothing. there’s something in satoru’s expression that catches you off guard, something that’s a little hard to identify. is it the way the light reflects off his skin, his pupils? the red, feverish flush of his skin? that flimsy little smile? or is it the honesty in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you like he’s trying to convey something he can’t put into words?

as you look at him, take him in, the boy you love so dearly, you can’t help but feel like he just carved open his chest — let you peek inside his ribcage. it’s hard not to feel flustered, in the presence of something so vulnerable.

and he’s thanking you. as if taking care of him is a great burden, a chore, something you’d demand gratitude for. you want to tell him that it’s the bare minimum, the very least of what he deserves. the very least of what you could, should do for him.

you want to tell him that he’s safe, here. that there’s no need to be the strongest, whatever the hell that means, that he can let go of the burdens you know he hides from you. that he can just be your sick, terribly stubborn boyfriend.

”… okay,” is all you breathe out, every other word getting stuck in the back of your throat. ”that’s good.”

satoru’s fingers curl around yours, suddenly, where they lay on your lap. his movements are still a little groggy, disoriented, as he brings your hand up to his lips. they’re warm and soft, especially so in light of his fever. he closes his eyes, white lashes catching the light of the sun, flitting in through the haphazardly closed blinds. your heartbeat stutters.

”… love you,” he mutters. a soft little thing. your eyes don’t leave his face, and your lips part before your brain can instruct them to.

”i love you too,” you blurt out, instantaneous. like you couldn’t bear to keep him waiting. ”… satoru.”

he smiles against your skin. he always does, at the sound of those words. you make him feel so terribly, terribly weak, all the time, everyday. you make him feel so human, and he can’t bring himself to think of it as a bad thing anymore.

he’s still cradling your hand when he brings it down to the blanket. ”thanks for coming,” he continues, pushing himself. trying to get the words out while he still has the energy to say them. “you didn’t have to.”

they’re a little clumsy, a little stale on his tongue, but they’re honest. he is thankful — the prospect of being seen like this is discomforting, gruelingly so, but he doesn’t mind nearly as much if it’s you. he’d never tell you, but he did feel just a little lonely, when he woke up this morning. disoriented, enveloped by hot flashes of pain, in a way he’s not used to in the slightest. missing out on your date, too, that he had been looking forward to ever since you decided on a time.

but, as if sensing it, you came to his rescue. the feeling of your lips on his skin was the first sensation he felt, when he woke up for the second time — with you by his side, this time. his guardian angel, carrying the scent of spring with you. the memory of a certain boy, of better times.

(satoru thinks you’re nostalgia personified. he likes to imagine that you met as children, underneath a cherry tree somewhere, but he knows it’s not true. there’s no way he wouldn’t remember you.)

you smile. pleased, at his show of vulnerability, small as it may be. ”i wanted to,” you assure him. equally honest, equally full of double meanings and hidden messages that neither of you need to uncover to understand. ”… i care about you. of course i’d come.”

a light, raspy chuckle; that’s all satoru manages to vocalize. his mind is stuffed, and there’s an ache in his chest, longing to be filled. it’s been there for a while now. but somehow, some way, you manage to fill it up, slowly but surely, almost effortlessly — with every sound you make, every slight movement, every flicker of an expression on your face. everything seems so effortlessly perfect, in his eyes.

the words leave his lips before his mind can think the thought to reel them back in.

”what did i do to deserve you…?”

you blink. a moment passes.

then your eyes soften, considerably so, crumbling at the corners like the cookies satoru loves so much. he’s looking at you, eyes soft in a similar sense, layered over with adoration. you think the love inside your chest might crawl out of your throat and eat him alive.

a chuckle of your own drips into the air, quivering slightly. terribly fond. this time, you’re the one who drags his hand up to meet your lips; kissing his knuckle softly. his breath hitches.

”i’m the one who should be saying that to you,” you grin, a little weakly. and you mean it. you don’t think you’ve ever meant anything more.

it’s so honest that it strikes a cord right down his heart, more heat than the fever can account for rushing to his cheeks. satoru hopes you don’t notice it. all he can do is squeeze your fingers, lightly, not trusting his voice not to break. silence lingers, and you only gaze at him softly.

”… do you want anything else?” you finally ask, with a tilt of your head. still so eager to assist, racking your brain to come up with anything else to do for him. ”i’ll get it for you, no matter what it is.”

and, truthfully, satoru thinks you’ve done more than enough. more than he could ever make up for. but he’s always been greedy, and there’s one thing, only one thing, one thing he can’t help but ask for. something he craves more than anything. he can’t help but indulge himself, indulge in his selfishness, in the need to feel your skin against his.

so he stretches his arms out, and looks at you with a distinctly needy glint in his eyes. his fingers move in a grabby motion, almost unconsciously, and he might’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t still so feverish. all he wants is to keep you close, to make the hollowness inside his chest dissipate. you always make that lonely feeling go away.

needless to say, you heed his request. almost instantly, your heart pumping in a steady rhythm, with this visceral desire to keep him close, to protect him. and who are you to resist, when he’s asking for it himself?

you waste no time crawling beneath the covers, situating yourself right next to your lover. only then do you finally, finally, reach your arms out to pull him close; so close you feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart. his cheek meets the softness of your chest, snuggling closer, and you card a hand through his soft locks. his arms reach around your midriff, a perfect puzzle piece, and he releases an audible sigh — deep and satisfied. in his tired, clingy state, he subconsciously throws a leg over yours, trapping you further.

you wouldn’t have it any other way.

finally, satoru can fall asleep. with the fever still clouding his senses, and your nimble fingers smoothing along his scalp, the occasional kiss to his head as he listens to your soft heartbeat, he’s drifted off before either of you know it. melting into you, into your warm embrace, cheek squished against your chest. tiny little breaths fall from his lips, and you feel like you’re cradling the whole world in your arms.

you’re relieved. making yourself comfortable on your back, with satoru sleeping soundly on top of you, hoping he’ll feel better when he wakes up. careful, even with your breathing, intent on letting him sleep. knowing he doesn’t get nearly as much rest as he should, most days.

before long, even you succumb to the cozy atmosphere, gradually dozing off. satoru is always warm, even more so now, and his weight is comforting.

stifling a yawn, you tug him a little bit closer, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. you could use a day of catching up on lost sleep, too.

when you wake up, you’re acutely aware of something poking your cheek.

it’s a ticklish sensation, sort of irritating, and it rouses you from your cozy slumber. disgruntled, so cruelly ripped away from your sweet dreams — satoru was in it, you think. you feel robbed.

still, you can’t be too mad. not when the real deal is right in front of you, eyes crinkled and full of warmth, a teasing smile on his lips. he’s still snuggled into your chest, all cozy and cute, as you lay on your back, propped up by a myriad of fluffy pillows. he looks up at you adoringly.

”well hello there,” he purrs, shooting a giddy little grin your way. still poking your cheek. ”wakey-wakey, sunshine!”

a series of blinks. you stir a little further, the sleepy haze of your brain beginning to slip off, slowly but surely. it takes a couple of seconds for you to remember why you’re here, what happened before you fell asleep.

”… hey,” you greet, at last, stifling a yawn and squeezing your eyes shut. stretching lazily, like a sleepy cat. ”how do you feel…?”

”i’m perfect. better than perfect, actually,” satoru chirps, a little cheeky, hoisting himself up so that he’s hovering above you. a hint of mischief in those pretty eyes. ”you’re a good nurse, y’know?”

you huff out a chuckle. as always, his actions reveal more than his words — you could tell he felt a lot better the moment you saw his smile, heard how he formed his words. “alright, that’s good,” you hum, exhaling softly. ”how long was i asleep? what time is it?”

”i woke up just now, too,” satoru lies, albeit a small one. he did wake up recently, only to spend what he thinks must’ve been at least fifteen minutes staring at you until he physically couldn’t take it anymore. he had to hear your voice, see your smile. it’s a personal record for him; usually he spends less time admiring your peaceful expression, far too eager to speak to you.

”it’s pretty late,” he continues, another small lie. pleased with himself. ”way too late for you to go back, actually. how about you spend the night?”

another blink, your eyelids heavy and droopy as they open and close. then you’re reaching for your phone on the nightstand, and checking the time. a smile is quick to bloom on your lips, teasing and bubbly, as you tilt your head to meet his gaze.

”it’s only four, satoru.”

”way, way too late,” he only reaffirms, flopping down on top of you again, keeping you from leaving. ”god knows what kinda creeps are out there at this hour — much too unsafe. i’m just looking out for you, baby.”

”of course,” you indulge him, a sly little roll of your eyes that makes him pout. ”you know i was planning on staying over anyway, right?”

”well, of course! i wouldn’t expect anything less from my favorite nurse.”

his eyes betray his words, gleaming with a sudden colour of excitement, all glitter and relief. a joy that clogs up his throat like seafoam, and spills out from his lips. you look down at him, for a second, unable to resist the temptation — reaching for his forehead with the back of your hand.

it’s significantly less scalding, now.

you let out a sigh, laced with relief, one you didn’t know you’d been holding in. ”it really has gone down,” you hum, stretching the sleep from your limbs again. “that’s good.”

satoru huffs. ”i said i was perfect, right? don’t you trust me, my sweet lover?”

”i never know with you,” you give him a huff of your own, exasperated. fond. “you said you were just fine this morning, too.”

”i was!” he whines. piling up lie after lie. “i totally could’ve made it to that date, you know. i got worse because you had no faith in my abilities.”

”right. of course.” you shoot him a lopsided grin. ”you just don’t wanna admit the fever beat your ass, huh?”

”see? no faith.” a chuckle slips from your lips, and satoru has to bite back a smile. ”unbelievable. i fought that fever off just for you, and here you are, laughing at me.”

”oh? i thought it was thanks to my top notch nursing skills?”

”well, that too! but it was mostly me.”

a sigh. “whatever you say.” then you’re smiling, once more, unable to help yourself. eyes crinkled at the edges, soft around the corners. ”i’m just glad you’re better. i was worried.”

satoru pouts, again, but you can tell he acknowledges it — your earnest concern. this is how you love, the both of you, through words that never say it all and actions that say the words your mouths can’t fit. decoding the meaning of it all in silent gestures, glints in your eyes. little truth games.

”you really thought a lil’ fever was gonna be enough to keep me down?” he shakes his head once, then twice. and you know that what he means to say is i never want you to worry. “c’mon, now, baby.”

another lighthearted roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah. my sincerest apologies, my strong, stubborn, totally-not-sick boyfriend.”

”don’t you mean your strong, perfect, beautiful, clever, flawless, totally-not-sick boyfriend?”

”don’t think i didn’t notice you sneaking the stubborn out of there.”

”hehe.”

a silent moment passes, something tender filling up the space between your words. satoru’s weight is still so comforting, like a big blanket, his arms enveloping you as he breathes in your scent. you’re so happy that he’s acting insufferable again.

”alright, my honeybee,” he suddenly chirps, breaking the silence, hoisting himself up. ”time to go. we can still get those crêpes if we hurry.”

you blink. once, then twice.

”… satoru.”

”yeah? what’s up?”

you give him an unimpressed look, gazing up at him, towering over you like he fully thought you’d be alright with letting him leave. ”you’re… not going out today,” you deadpan. “you know that, right?”

this time, he’s the one who blinks. once, then twice.

”huh? why not?”

”uh, because you’re sick, maybe?”

”what?” satoru pretends to be shocked, offended, as if he can’t believe you’d even suggest something so outrageous. ”i’m all better, though!”

you raise an eyebrow, thoroughly displeased. all better? ”your fever isn’t gone, satoru. it’s just not horrible anymore. you’ll get yourself even more sick if you go out now.”

”i won’t! seriously!” he insists, looking down at you with a sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes. ”i feel good enough to run a marathon!”

”you’re not doing that either,” you mutter. then a sigh, exasperated. you can’t let this charade go on for too long. ”come on, satoru — don’t be so stubborn. we can go there another time.”

”but —”

”besides, didn’t you say i have to spend the night because it’s too late to go outside? remember the creeps?” there’s amusement in your voice, a light smile on your lips. ”what if they get us?”

”well, they obviously won’t get you while i’m there,” he huffs. ”what, you don’t think i can protect you properly? you’re hurting me, angel.”

you bite back an incredulous laugh. god, he’s stubborn. you’re so in love with him you just barely restrain the urge to pull him in for a kiss.

”sa-to-ru,” you coo, dragging each syllable out, sending a shiver down his spine. ”we’re not going outside. end of discussion.”

”why not, though?” he continues to pout, still refusing to give in. resorting to cheap guilt-tripping. ”don’t you wanna go on a date with me? you don’t want to see me happy, is that it?”

you only sigh, thoroughly exasperated, reaching up to cup his cheek nonetheless. he nuzzles into it. ”you’re such a baby.”

”your baby.”

another sigh, to mask your adoration. at this rate, the back and forth will never end, so you scramble for solutions.

“can’t we just have our date here?” you suggest, after some contemplation. ”i bought some ice cream on my way here. we could watch a movie, or something. isn’t that enough?”

satoru’s eyes bore into yours. contemplative, as he lets the silence linger, gears turning inside his mind. he wants to go outside with you, wants to hold your hand and hear you hum happily as you bite into your crêpe; wants to steal a bite when you’re not looking.

but it is a tempting offer. you could eat ice cream, and binge a bunch of movies, and he could rest his head in your lap. coax you into playing with his hair.

(he’s maybe, just maybe, a little bit tired, too.)

so, finally, he sighs — softly. in resignation.

”… well, i guess that’s fine,” he pouts, allowing himself to fall back into your embrace. his voice is muffled, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. ”i wanted crêpes, though…”

”i’ll get you your crepes,” you assure him, relieved to have reached a compromise. ”i can go buy ’em myself and come back. then we —”

”no, no, no!” satoru suddenly interjects. whining, tugging you closer. ”you’re not going anywhere. not without me!”

a sigh, just as adoring as it is fatigued. ”then i’ll… order crêpes, or something. or we’ll eat ice cream today and then crêpes when you’re better. does that sound okay?”

satoru is silent, for a while.

”… okay,” he hums. ”that’s fine.”

”haah. okay, good —”

”however!”

you give him a look, a silent what now? that has him smiling. shuffling a little, in your embrace, planting his jaw on top of your chest and gazing up at you with a grin. ”instead of the crêpes, i want a kiss.”

you blink. exasperated, as an amused chuckle follows. ”so convoluted. you can just ask, you know?” you don’t give him time to answer, eager to appease the pouty man. ”whatever.”

leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. sweet and soft. to your surprise, he’s still pouting when you pull away. ”i meant on the lips,” he explains, as if it was obvious.

a tilt of your head.

”… but you’re sick.”

”so?” satoru just pouts, expression practically etched into his face at this point. ”you won’t kiss me anymore? just cause i’ve got a tiny, miniscule fever?” he huffs, turning his head to the right and shutting his eyes. ”if you don’t love me anymore, you can just say that.”

another sigh leaves your lips. he’s so ridiculous. you can’t really deny him, though.

”… fine. it’s your fault if i get sick, though.”

in the blink of an eye, he’s perked right back up. wagging his non-existent tail, closing his eyes and waiting for you to try again. silly.

but you relent. his lips are only slightly warmer than usual, and you choose to see it as the good sign it is, proof that his fever truly is starting to dissipate. you feel satoru relax, melting into the kiss, but before it can drag out too long you’ve pulled away. ”— there. happy now?”

”for now,” he quips, equally teasing. he’s cute, though. a little kiss or two is a small price to pay for the spark of joy in his iris, even if it ends with you sick on your deathbed in a couple of days.

”that’ll do,” you grin, hoisting yourself up with your elbows, carrying satoru with you, his jaw still on your chest. ”wanna go eat some ice cream, mr unreasonable?”

you don’t really need an answer. of course satoru wants ice cream. you’ve never seen him turn down anything sweet — and, lo and behold, he perks up again, getting into a sitting position. like an excited puppy.

”got it,” you chuckle, stopping to think for a moment. “there’s soup left, too. but maybe you’d rather order something? it turned out kinda so-so.”

satoru gapes. ”you kidding? that was the best soup i’ve ever had!”

his exclamation makes you roll your eyes, words so coated in confidence that you almost want to believe him. ”satoru. you don’t have to lie.”

”i’m not!”

”you couldn’t even taste it.”

”i could, i could!” he stubbornly whines. ”i tasted all your love. every single drop!”

you give him a look. he only grins at you, a little teasing, a little giddy. you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed; averting your gaze with a sharp scoff. ”yeah? and how did my love taste?”

satoru leans forward. it’s sudden, and you blink, instinctively leaning back in turn. he’s wearing a signature smirk when he stops moving, close enough that you feel his breath on your skin. hot.

”delicious,” he purrs, glancing down at your lips. blue eyes gleaming with mirth. ”best thing i’ve ever had.”

you know he’s just trying to fluster you, so you try to fight against it, but it doesn’t work nearly as well as you’d like — crumbling under his gaze, averting your own with a quiet huff. and he lets you off the hook, satisfied with your embarrassed expression. pulling back slightly, letting you breathe.

as swiftly as you can, you regain your composure. clearing your throat. ”well, you can have more of it later, then,” you make a move to get off the bed. ”let’s go eat ice cream.”

after being caged in by satoru for so long, your limbs are a little stiff, caught under the weight of his boundless love. when your feet hit the soft flooring, you stretch them out, watching satoru follow your lead. still clad in that sweaty shirt.

”you should probably get a change of clothes,” you suggest, exhaling as your muscles loosen up. ”you’ve been wearing that shirt all day.”

”oh? is that an excuse to see me out of it, sweetheart?” satoru grins, fresh mischief gleaming in his eyes. ”you know you can always just ask.”

you huff out a sardonic breath. ”yeah, yeah, whatever. throw on a hoodie or something, weirdo.” you stifle a giggle when he makes an offended noise behind you. “and some pants.”

”you don’t like the underwear?” he looks towards the corner of the room, studying himself in the mirror. “this is an expensive brand, you know?”

”you’re the only person on planet earth who’d give a fuck about underwear brands,” you scoff, a little snarky. ”just — put some comfortable clothes on, okay? i’ll go get the ice cream ready.”

”wait!” he exclaims, attaching himself to you, curling his arms around your bicep. “you’re not allowed to go anywhere without me, remember?”

“… okay, okay. hurry up and get changed, then.”

sitting back down on the bed, while satoru walks towards the closet, you scroll through your phone — refusing to meet his expectant stare. he wants you to look over, you’re well aware, just so he can tease you for trying to sneak a peek. you won’t give him the satisfaction.

when he’s done, he’s wearing a comfy hoodie and some sweatpants. it’s a good look on him, casual and cozy. awfully cute. he wastes no time in attaching himself to you, again, an arm linked with yours as you travel to the kitchen; grabbing the pints of ice cream from the freezer, a couple snack bags from the drawers, before plopping down on the couch.

satoru maneuvers you into his lap, and you don’t put up a fight, leaning into him as your back meets his chest. he keeps you locked in place, arms around your waist, planting his jaw on the top of your head. and he relaxes, comforted by your smaller body pressed up against his. holding you so close satisfies a certain protective itch in his brain, never failing to calm him down. a safe haven, of sorts.

you watch the movie and eat the snacks, chattering away, letting the silence linger every now and then. after a while, satoru gets a slight headache, resting his head in your lap and whining for you to soothe him. you do so without any teasing; you’re much too soft for him. and he’s still sick, even if he’s doing better. you couldn’t resist him even if you tried.

so you opt to indulge him.

”baby, i think my fever’s going up again…” satoru pouts, gazing up at you through fluttering lashes. ”can you check?”

you smile, with a raise of your eyebrow. ”this is the fifth time you’ve asked me to check your temperature, toru.”

”just wanna make sure,” he whines. “please?”

with an exaggerated sigh, you lean down, lips once again meeting his forehead — humming against his skin. nope, his temperature hasn’t gone up. just like it hadn’t gone up the last time you checked, or the time before that.

”you’re good.”

”oh, thank god,” he exhales. ”are you sure? like, a hundred percent sure? maybe you should check again. just in case.”

”satoru,” you coo, a teasing lilt on the tip of your tongue. ”you can just ask me if you want a kiss.”

”a kiss? scandalous. i just wanna make sure my condition doesn’t worsen.”

he’s grinning, and you’re rolling your eyes, and both of you know damn well you’re going to indulge him anyway. he sighs in satisfaction when he feels your soft lips on his heated skin.

”hmm…” you narrow your eyes, thoughtfully, before looking down at him with a teasing smile. ”nope. definitely still the same temperature.”

”you sure?”

”a hundred percent.”

”hmm. okay, got it.” he rolls over, burying his face in your stomach. wrapping his limbs around your midriff. “that’s good. just wanted to check, you know?”

”of course.”

”might need you to check again soon. just to be safe,” he chirps, biting back a soft grin. you don’t bother hiding yours.

”got it, got it,” you coo, fingers carding through his messy hair. “anything for my sick baby.”

satoru releases a soft breath, bordering on a giggle. you can’t help but let your smile grow wider, heart brimming with affection. you let it clog up your chest until the movie’s almost over, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore.

”your room is very like you.”

it’s sudden, breaking the peaceful silence, making satoru stir. you’re both starting to get sleepy again. but he blinks up at you, studying your expression before parting his lips.

”… oh? how so?”

“well…” you stop to think. humming, absently fidgeting with a lock of your boyfriend’s hair. ”when i first walked in, i thought the whole house felt kind of empty, you know?”

satoru hums. unsure of where the conversation is going, maybe just a little intrigued. he mostly just likes listening to you talk.

”but then i went into your room, and — it just felt very you. kinda messy, and stuff, but cozy. and a little sentimental.” satoru looks up at you, admiring that certain soft glimmer in your eyes. you meet his stare with a smile. ”maybe it doesn’t make sense? i guess i’ve just been thinking about it.”

he closes his eyes.

there’s something soft in your tone, something silky and simple, and he can tell you’re being sincere. it’s something he likes about you — that willingness to be soft, almost pridefully so, to bare yourself even if you aren’t sure that he’ll return the favour. he likes to think it’s rubbing off on him, slowly but surely; he doesn’t think he’s quite as bad as before. telling you about things that are dear to him isn’t something that scares him, anymore. and even when you see him vulnerable, sick and delirious in bed, he isn’t afraid that you’ll use it against him.

you’re a comfort; his safe haven. a place to rest his weary head. maybe you always have been, even before he really got to know you.

”i like your place more,” he finally admits, lighthearted in its weight. your gaze flits down, but his is still lingering on the tv, not really paying attention to it. ”it feels very… you.”

a smile crawls up to rest against your lips. playing along, your hands finding solace in between his fluffy locks. ”how so?”

and satoru smiles. eyes sparkling with something mellow, like a soda pop cracked open on a boiling summer day. he shifts a little, just to gaze up at you again. ”it’s… homely. warm,” his smile only grows. “and awfully sentimental.”

he lifts a hand up, to touch your cheek. tender, as his thumb smooths against your skin. it’s warm, beneath his touch, heating up with every word he speaks. satoru’s love feels a little like the sun, when it spills out this fervently, like it could burn you into cinders — you think you’d be happy to lie in the ashes. he’s smiling at you, like sunshine, like little dusty specks of light. and he exhales.

”i wouldn’t mind staying there forever.”

the expression on his face is a lovely one. you take a moment to simply bask in it, desperate to etch it into your memory. you don’t think you could forget it even if you tried. how fondly the light of the room embraces him, that soft grin he’s shooting your way, only vaguely teasing. and his eyes, the gateways to his soul, so sincere you can’t look away.

you love this man with your whole chest. you knew before, you’ve known for a long time, but each day you fall in love all over again. it’s all you can think as you look at him, all snug and safe and happy in your lap.

you don’t realize you’ve been staring at him silently until he chuckles, pulling you out of your sentimental stupor. it only flusters you further.

”you’re cute,” satoru croons, still cradling your cheek. tender, soft fingertips against your heated skin. all you manage is a meek little furrow of your brows, but that only makes him chuckle again.

”… you can.”

he blinks. still smiling.

”stay forever, i mean.”

you can’t look at him, when you say it. the words are barely above a whisper, and you aren’t sure if they’re conscious or not. it’d be nice to say they just slipped out, but they feel somewhat deliberate, all the same. you know you mean them, either way. it’s the one thing you’re sure of.

this time, satoru is the one who can do nothing but stare, his expression unreadable. you try not to let your gaze wander to his face, his eyes; but through the peripheral of your vision, you feel like you catch a particular kind of sadness reflected in them. or maybe it’s something closer to yearning, longing. something like that.

”… well,” he finally hums, voice so low you barely pick up on it. ”maybe i will, then.”

you reach something.

you catch a glimpse of it, at least, for just a second or two. something warm and bare, something simple and incomprehensible at the same time. an emotion so strong it leaves you reeling, yet still so light. it’s there and then it isn’t, just out of reach, and you think that if you could only find the courage to curl your fingers around his, then —

a laugh track plays from the tv, snapping you both out of your thoughts.

(the moment passes before you can fully understand it, fully comprehend it. maybe some part of you already has.)

…

satoru chuckles, reaching for another ball of mochi and popping it into his mouth. ”this movie’s awful, huh?”

”yeah,” you’re quick to agree, maybe a little too quick. grinning weakly. ”it’s good in a so bad it’s good kinda way, though.”

he hums in absentminded agreement, still chewing on the soft treat. keeping his gaze steady on the screen, the flicker of emotional scenes he hasn’t been keeping track of, barely resisting the urge to look up at you again. but his heart already feels a little too mushy for his liking — he’s not sure he could take it.

satoru doesn’t get sick often.

his immune system is strong, there’s no denying that. but more than anything, he simply can’t afford to be sick. there are people who need him, people who depend on him, and the idea of being in such a defenseless state — stuck in bed while the world continues to spin, unattended — makes him feel so anxious he could throw up. even sleeping makes him feel a little skittish, sometimes, though he’s gotten a lot better since he started falling asleep with you in his arms.

it’s funny, he thinks. before you, being sick wasn’t something that really existed in his world. if he felt a little under the weather he would simply puff out his chest and down a painkiller or two, waving it off with a flick of his wrist; no biggie, really. he’s satoru gojo, after all, and the world needs his eyes on it.

but then you came along. you came to his rescue, spring in your pockets, and you took care of him, with what he knows to be love. genuine, earnest concern for his wellbeing. his happiness.

yeah — it’s funny, for sure. satoru never thought he’d ever enjoy being sick.

yet here he is, head in your lap, feeling you run your fingers through his hair. kissing his forehead whenever he whines, indulging his little convoluted ploys. bringing him soup, when he gets hungry again, soup you made yourself. he wasn’t kidding when he said he tasted your love through it; it was all he could taste, with his numbed out senses, all he could feel.

you’re so good to him. there’s nothing he would trade for these moments with you, absolutely nothing. he’s glad you came over, after all. glad you’re so stubborn, and oh so caring. satoru can’t help but smile, heart almost stuffed to the brim with gratitude — what could he possibly do with this immense love in his chest?

”i love you so much,” he blurts out, practically beaming. now you’re in his lap, again, and he takes the opportunity to smear openmouthed kisses against your neck. delighting in the little squeak you try to muffle.

”where did that come from?” you blink, squirming a little in his embrace. a movie is still playing on the tv screen, one better than the last — your attention was fixed on it before satoru broke the silence.

”just felt like saying it!” he only chirps, grinning ear to ear. ”i love you. you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he murmurs, earnestly, lips against your skin. ”my whole world.”

for a moment, you wonder if the fever is making him delirious. then again, this is pretty standard for satoru; always eager to fluster you, to shower you with love until you’re pushing him away. it’s overwhelming, but you’ve never minded. this is how you measure his love — little gaps between too much and never enough.

”… you’re not gonna say it back?” comes a whine, right by your ear. now he’s nibbling at your neck, little beast that he is, pouting because you let the silence linger for too long. he’s being such a baby about it. but you still rush to reassure him, echoing his words in earnest.

”i love you too, satoru,” you smile, slightly exasperated. craning your neck so that your lips can meet his jaw, and satoru grins, giddy at the attention. ”my whole universe.”

satoru lets out a happy little noise, almost a giggle, sleepy and pleased. his arms squeeze you just a little tighter, like you could never be close enough, even when he’s got you in his lap like this. if he could, he’d keep you there all the time. attached at the hip, close as can be.

even with a ruined date, even after worrying you, he feels well and truly satisfied. because you're here, and you’re watching a good movie, and you’re gonna stay over tonight. when it gets dark out, he’ll get to fall asleep cuddled up beside you, hold you in his arms and feel you nuzzle into his chest. then he’ll pepper your face with kisses to wake you up, and you’ll grumble all sweetly, and he’ll carry you to the kitchen despite your grumpy protests. you’ll eat breakfast together, chatting and enjoying the way the sunlight flickers around the room like a happy cat. maybe he can even make you breakfast himself, to thank you for today.

if the fever’s gone by then, you’ll probably let him outside. then you can go get those crêpes, and maybe go to a park, or to the movie theatre, or a fun arcade, before heading back to your apartment to relax. and then he’ll stay over. the day after, too. and the day after that.

living together with you wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks. it wouldn’t be bad at all, actually.

the thought has been on his mind for a while, now. getting to fall asleep with you every night, eat breakfast with you every morning, see more of your footprints in his life… satoru can’t think of anything he’d like more. maybe he’ll start hinting at it, slowly but surely. if he can lure you into broaching the subject, that would be ideal — but if he has to, he doesn’t mind doing it himself. you’re worth the emotional toll.

you curl into your boyfriend a little further, his jaw now resting cheekily on the top of your head, large palms underneath your shirt and rubbing circles into your bare skin. you have no idea what he’s thinking, no idea about his plans, and he thinks that’s for the best. he knows you’ll indulge him, at the end of the day.

maybe he’ll just ask you, tomorrow. if you say no, he can just blame it on the fever making him delirious.

#save me sick soft sweet sappy satoru….. save me……..#he means the wholeeee universe to me :’3 i love this specific toru sm !! i really do think he’s a lonely sweetie at heart :((#i wrote this fic a LONG time ago but i polished it a bunch so hopefully it doesnt feel rusty !!#i scrambled to come up w a title in time but i think this one kinda slaps idk … im severely sleepy rn so it might. Not be. though 😭😭#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x y/n

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eldritch-spouse · 1 year

Note

Going to be thirsty here for a moment-. But rereading Breg's fics made me wonder how he would be if Roomie started training herself to be able to take both of his dicks in one hole. Just to let him inside and hammer away. Like, please, sir, break me. 🤲🥺

[Love when people come here like "I hope I'm not being too thirsty". Fem reader. Ignoring anatomy for this because hhhnn-]

TW: Double penetration; Slight dubcon moment.

" Listen to me Breg. "

You start, and even if you're currently beneath the breeder on the bed, you still sound like a drill sergeant. Mostly because you have to, Breg's not to be trusted when he's excited.

" I've been working up to this for a long while- "

" I know! " He interrupts, the bottom of his face still covered in drool and slick when he dove between your legs after you were done with the stretching exercises.

Breg hates that you had to use toys to size yourself up for this, but the promise that you were doing it so you could welcome both of his members made him slightly more tolerant of it. Didn't change the fact that the breeder would often sit and watch, whining in jealousy of whatever you were stuffing yourself with.

" I'll be really careful! I'll be nice- I promise angel! "

His babbling is a waste of slaver, the monster isn't even looking at you, eyeless gaze perched entirely on the sight of your inviting pussy and the way both of his cocks frame it. The breeder looks like he's thrilling himself with the show, making a horny little noise of appreciation and biting at his lower lip. It's as if he's already envisioning himself deep inside you, not having to squeeze one of his cocks between you two. It's been a fantasy of his for a long time, even you have to admit that it's... Exciting to think about.

Now though, you need Breg to focus, so you grab the sides of his head and bring it closer to yours. " I mean it, listen to me. "

His happiness is infectious, you have to turn away to hide the smile tugging at your lips when Breg simply dips to place kisses all over your face, hearing that long tail sway and swat around.

" Breg! " Mercifully, he stops. " You have to pay attention to what you're doing when you start okay? If we do this wrong, it could hurt me a lot. "

" Yes. " He rushes. " Yes, okay. "

"Good. " With a pant, you spread your legs just a tad further, figuring you couldn't possibly be in a more comfortable positions for this, especially with the support pillows helping to angle you. " Now straighten up a bit, I need to see what I'm doing. "

When the breeder does, you note the way his breathing is already sped up, how feverish he's already become. It's impressive how Breg always manages to make you feel so hot, even when you think you look like a fresh mess. Gently, you reach down to grab both of his dicks, keeping them together as much as you can, and he helps the process by scooting forward to line up against your pussy.

Feeling both tips park there is enough to get you to blow a tense exhale, knowing it's going to be a stretch and a half. In sharp contrast, Breg moans like he's in heat, looking as if his self-control is hanging by a very thin thread currently peeling itself apart.

Some hesitant seconds pass.

" Please angel- Please! I want this so bad. It's going to feel so good, let me fuck you, please! " White claws rub at your thighs comfortingly while he pleads, tail thumping impatiently on the mattress behind him. And curse him, because the breeder's shameless imploring always rises a fire in you that's hard to put out.

" I- I want you to push slowly, okay? " You caution, hold still firm on him, your spare arm clutching the sheets.

" Uhuh! "

True to his word, Breg is careful, torturously edging his cocks forward. The lube helps immeasurably, and pretty soon, both heads pop inside, making you hiss and gasp, immediately clenching at the intrusion. Massive. Fucking massive, holy shit. A wave of warmth courses through you as a pleasant shiver moments later.

" Hhn- Ohh... " He's drooling. Like actually drooling on you. " Hahh. " You can tell by the visible flexing of his legs that the only thing Breg wants to do is buck and hammer the rest of himself in, but with an almost pained grunt, he just sits there statically so the two of you can catch your breaths.

" Good- Very good. " You praise his surprising discipline. " Just keep going like that. "

He makes what you think was an affirmative "Mmn" noise and lolls his tongue out when the next couple of inches are softly rolled into you. It's insanely filling on its own, your thighs squirm and you're not sure if you want to edge away from this or even closer. Breg's instincts kick in and he holds your hips down sternly, slowly sinking more of himself in and making deep, pleased moans that wash against you like waves.

" Ngh- Deep- Slow down, give me a second. " It's stealing the breath out of you.

It takes a couple of moments before Breg's brain registers the command, but he eventually pauses with half of his cocks buried in you. He physically has to tear his gaze off the sight of you stretched around him, chest heaving as he curves to blanket you.

" You're so tight, fffuck you always are but this- " He sighs shakily over your ear, and instead of calming down enough to relax, you only tense and squeeze around him harder, making the breeder growl and whine. " Mmnph-! If you keep doing that I won't hold it, angel. Please, can I put the rest in, please? "

One of these days his begging is going to burst a blood vessel of yours. Or maybe it's the way you feel so bloated already.

" O- Okay, but then you need to let me catch up, okay? "

" Mmmf- " You think he growled there for a second. " Yes! Thank you! "

You expected him to push in slowly the same way he did up until now, though you should frankly know better by now... Breg pulls away in a preparatory motion that should have given it all away, then slams home with a force you have no words to describe.

Your stomach bounces and your lungs knock into your throat, eyeballs jostled in their sockets from the strength of his wild horse piston into your cunt. The disgraceful wet noise that echoed in your bedroom doesn't help in keeping yourself grounded. Although you didn't have enough air in your body to do much more than choke and convulse at the intrusion, the breeder makes more than enough noise for the two of you, howling in delight at the way your poor walls all but crush him in an attempt to adapt to the brute size just forced into them. You can feel him perfectly hilted into you, cockheads kissing as deep into you as they possibly can. It's an indescribable fullness that has the two of you stunted.

" Oh gods fffuck- Hahhn I'm all in. " He mumbles amidst desperate noises. " Mmn feels so good so good- I knew it'd be perfect- Love you angel. "

Both lengths throb inside you. You couldn't respond even if you wanted to.

Although you can very well sense Breg trying to rock against you minutely, he keeps his promise, studying your overwhelmed features and giving you time to welcome him properly. There's some pain, you won't lie, but it's slowly ebbing into something forgettable. The pale monster's sweet cooing and trilling help steady you as he licks your throat and lets his teeth deform slightly to place a loving bite on your shoulder.

Eventually, the breeder shifts and looks down at where the two of you are joined, finding imprints of his lengths in you. His grin is so wide and self-satisfied it looks borderline manic. A large hand comes to palp at the bump in your lower abdomen, but the sensation causes your legs to twitch and you bat his arm away.

Breg whines, a trail of drool slipping down his chin to drip onto your skin. " Can- Can I start? "

Your eyes widen a little, though you nod and take a deep breath. " G-Gentle. "

And that's all it takes.

The monster admittedly has a bit of trouble moving at first, the drag of his cocks inside you bordering on painful until fireworks start firing in your brain from all the spots he has no choice but to stimulate with every minuscule motion. The first moan you let out, throaty and helpless, makes him shiver. Wetness gradually builds, helping along with what's left of the lube, and pretty soon Breg's huffing with every thrust, making noises that almost concern you and visibly sweating. You know he's doing his best to behave right now, and you appreciate it, because both at once is... An experience.

" Ah- Ghn so full- " You choke when he fills you out again, causing the breeder to wag his tail slightly and respond with shorter, faster bursts of movement.

" Does it feel good? " He pants.

" Y- Yeah. " Putting it lightly. Your breath hitches and you cling to his arms for support, unable to help the fluttering of your pussy as you get used to this brand new size.

" Angel... " He begins, in a tone you already know means he's going to ask for something. " Hhn- I know you said gentle but... "

He bucks his hips suddenly, the two of you crying out together, pleasure and shock.

" Breg! "

" B- But I know you like it rough! " He stresses. " You clamp around me so hard, it's so hot- " Your face burns. " Come on... Just this time? "

It's not going to be "just this time", obviously.

When you don't say anything, the breeder hums and drapes over you again, legs readjusting so he can plunge somehow even deeper into you now. And with no hesitation, Breg starts well and truly railing into you.

" AH! HN- Breg?! "

You have to hold onto his neck and back, each desperate slam of his thighs on yours digging his softly barbed cocks so far up into your hole he jostles you forward. But you can't deny that it's making your eyes glaze in rabid animal pleasure, mouth opening and hips grinding back onto him as much as they can, the sloppy noise of his every slam filling you with a gross sense of glee.

You don't like to admit it, but you love being under Breg. It makes you feel small in a very arousing way, trapped under his strength, his smell, hearing how fast he breathes for you, how much his body strains to breed you stupid even if the effort is always pointless in the end. You like that he's always just as enthusiastic, that he always fucks you like it's the last time he's going to get to do it.

" S- See? " He groans, looking down at your flushed, probably disheveled face. " I know you like it- I can smell it. " And just to accentuate the point, there's a snort-like sniff when he dips his head into the crook of your neck, rising goosebumps everywhere. " Gghn- I'm- I'm not going to last too long... "

That startles you a little. Breg's always had surprising stamina. Sure, the first time he penetrated you was a bit short, but he had never been with a human before. Still, this puts an incredulous smile on your face. " R- Really? "

" Yeah- " His words melt into slurred moans, previously speedy motions now interspersed by hard grinds that have your eyes rolling slightly. " 'M sorry, you're so good- Sorry. "

" It's- It's fine. " It's hotter than it should be.

" My mate is so perfect- " He growls in-between sharp, jutting thrusts. " So nice to me- " The whimper on the edge of his voice is more than a good tell of how close he is. " I'm so lucky I get to ahhn- Put both in! "

Even if he doesn't recognize it, Breg has a penchant for this very specific type of dirty talk that makes your brain pop and crackle in a hormone-fueled static, and before you can even beg him to fill you with cum, he fucks into your stretched cunt with three dizzying pistons before flexing and coming so hard you can feel it shoot into crevices you didn't even know you had.

It's too much for such a small space, coating both you and him before it has no choice but to squeeze out of you in depraved spurts. Even if you wanted to hear Breg's rattle of ecstasy, you were too lost in your own orgasm to do so, making something akin to a desperate, sobbing mewl at the overload of sensations.

When you can focus minimally, the breeder is planting amorous kisses everywhere on your upper body, still buried hot and wet inside you. His whole face is flushed blue and he's never looked giddier, shuddering as another glob of seed escapes around his still hard cocks.

" Thank you so much, angel. I loved it! "

Oh, you can tell. " ... Don't mention it. "

Breg chirps. " Tell me when you're ready to go again. "

Why are you even surprised...

#Bregory #monster boyfriend #monster smut #monster x reader #terato #monsterfucker #terat0philliac #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia #MINORS DNI #not sfw

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starkeyisthelastname · 2 months

Note

Idk where my mind is going with this but I love the idea of reader needing trailer park!rafe so bad that she sneaks out to his trailer late into the night 😅

okay i can see this right after he takes her 🍒 she just wants more of him. 🥺

You shouldn’t have been out this late, navigating your way through the trailer park to your new favorite person that you couldn’t stop thinking about. He had taken your virginity and you couldn’t stop the thoughts running through your mind now and how he had felt inside you. You knew you were betraying your father by sneaking out to go the 30 year old man’s trailer, but you were an adult and could make your own decisions. Even if you didn’t know much of anything after growing up so sheltered.

You looked like a deer caught in the headlights as you quietly stepped through the creaky door to see that Rafe was still wide awake, laying on the old couch with a beer in hand. His head whipped from the old sitcom, his blue eyes squinting to the door to catch you standing there with your eyes wide. He took a swig out of his can before setting it down, blue irises staring at you.

“Shut the door and c’mere.” He spoke, his voice low as he motioned you over with his finger. You slowly stepped over into the dim space, his eyes never leaving yours as you stood before him with a bite to your bottom lip. “What are you doin’? It’s too damn late for you to be sneakin’ around here?” He said, watching you play with the hem of your dress. He was starting to think that’s all you wore.

You glanced around the messy place, trying to avoid his gaze as you didn’t know how to explain it. “I dunno.” You mumbled, face heating up as you tried to think of the right words. “Missed you.” You told him, eyes going back to his.

Rafe looked you amused, taking another gulp of beer from the half empty can he had picked up again. He had never had anyone say they missed him, and he couldn’t help but feeling a little excited inside. Not that you needed to know that. With his free hand, he patted his lap a spot he absolutely loved having you in now. He watched you carefully pad over to him, a blush on your cheeks as you nestled your round ass against his already growing cock. “That right, babydoll?” He asked, dirty smirk on his face as he watched you nod with a glossy pout on your lips.

He’d torture for bit, making you lean against him as he played with your drooling little cunt. You writhed against his broad chest, your poor hole on fire with desperate want as the feeling in your tummy wouldn’t go away. You clinged onto his veiny forearm as he rubbed your clit with his massive hand, your pretty whimpers drowning out the sound of the old tv show playing.

“So goddamn desperate now that you’ve had some dick in your cunt.” He said gruffly, hand coming up for your soaked sex to squeeze one of your tits that had fallen out of your dress. “You want me to fuck that sweet lil’ hole again? Is that it?” He taunted, pinching your nipple as his other hand messed with the button of his jeans. “Tell me you want me to fuck your cunt again.” His words fifthly.

You weren’t one to curse, and felt your cheeks heat up as he told you to say those naughty words. You just didn’t know how else to be but desperate for this man and just wanting to feel full again. The words fell out of your mouth in a broken whine, embarrassed of the foul language you were displaying for this man’s pleasure. “P-please f-fuck my c..-cunt again.. pretty please.”

Rafe’s eyes nearly rolled back as he stuffed his cock in your tight hole, hands coming up to squeeze your waist. “Sneakin’ over here and shit, just to your pussy ruined.” He almost laughed at how he was slowly corrupting you. He adjusted his lower half, moving his hands further down to wrap around the underside of your thighs. “Gonna show you what you wanted so bad.” A low warning as he began thrusting up inside you at a brutal speed.

He had you right under his control in his lap of all places, your back pressed to his chest. He could pound your pretty hole out, while whispering a bunch of dirty shit in your ear to make you clench around his cock. His facial hair, rubbing against the skin of your neck as he chuckled darkly into your sweet flesh. “This what you wanted sugar? Can’t fuckin sleep at night now, cause your to busy thinkin’ about a grown man’s dick in your cunt?” He rasped out, loving the way your moans only got louder the dirtier he sounded.

You nodded the best your little head would allow you too, finding yourself in the same predicament you were in last time, with your body already starting to collapse against his much bigger one. He was right, your need to be around this man all the time now was out weighing everything your father had ever taught you. You didn’t know better though, your poor innocent little self was just fine with spending your days being Rafe’s trailer park wife and taking care of all his needs.

#rafe cameron #trailerpark!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron concepts #rafe concepts #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #obx #obx smut #outer banks

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female-hysterics · 2 months

Note

May I please request 9 and 36 from your kink prompt list for Aemond Targaryen please 🥺

Got a little carried away here 😅

You never minded the aftereffects of childbirth, always filled with love with what you brought into the world, and then there were some days, like today, where your breasts left you in agony.

Your baby had been refusing to nurse the entire day, they were more focused on eating some sort of soft mushy fruit instead that Helaena brought them, and you were at your wits end when you searched for your husband and found Aemond alone in the expansive Red Keep library tucked away in the back for privacy. It looked like he had been there for a while, a empty glass of wine at his elbow with numerous candles nearly burnt to the bottom, and he had a stern look on his scarred face. His pale hair was in his usual neat style, leather patch still over his eye, and his remaining pale blue eye was riveted on the heavy book in front of him.

An idea popped in your head, sudden and surprising, and your breath caught in your throat.

There was a night a few weeks ago where your breasts were sore just like today, your baby had been more focused on trying to chew on you with their surprisingly strong gums as opposed to actually nursing, and Aemond had quietly walked in on you trying to ease the pain. You had your dress pulled down until it was bunched around your waist, leaving your chest bare, and you were pressing a warm wet cloth to your breasts.

It was a little messy for sure, but it was the only relief you could get at that moment.

The warm cloth felt nice, soothing your chafed nipples while coaxing milk to flow, but you were still wincing with every gentle prod of your fingers. Once you did all you could, you mopped up your chest carefully, and that’s when he made his presence known.

“Next time, you should come to me for help,” he had murmured, making you jump in surprise as you whipped your head around, and you went breathless at the sheer hunger in his eyes when you looked at him.

His eye was glued to your breasts, his tongue flicking over an incisor as he stared at you heatedly and unabashedly, and you flushed at his words. You knew he wasn’t talking about helping with the washcloths, but you quickly pushed aside the thought of what he was really suggesting as your heart nearly skipped a beat, and you just decided to play it safe and naïve for your own sanity.

“Even a small breeze is painful, my Prince. This is pretty much all I can do,” you said, pulling up your dress gingerly, and his gaze met yours with an intensity that threw you off guard, “next time…come find me,” he continued in the same soft tone and you didn’t know how to respond without sounding foolish, so you just kept quiet.

Now, here he was, and you were nearly in tears.

Aemond Targaryen had no sense of shame in the bedroom, you had slowly learned over the course of your marriage, but you were still hesitant to approach him with your idea. It was considered odd, what you were debating, but the idea itself had warmth pooling low in your stomach. He never made you uncomfortable, taking time to listen to you, and he was always happy whenever she shyly approached him with something you wanted to try.

He always made you feel safe and loved and, after all, he did order you to find him.

You thought back to the heated way he had looked at you that night, the hunger in his gaze, thought about the few times where he seemed to watch you nurse a little more intently than usual, and came to a decision. You squared your shoulders, held your head up high, and swept into the room.

“Hello there, my love,” he said softly, nodding at you in greeting once he spotted you, before closing his book to give you his undivided attention, and you stalked up to him with determination.

You walked up to him, pushing at his chair until he scooted the chair away from the table, and he said nothing but raised a thin eyebrow. Once he had slid back enough, Aemond still regarding you quietly but now with curiosity written all over his face, you took a deep breath to steady your nerves.

You hoisted yourself up and crawled onto his lap, ignoring his sharp gaze, and was instead completely focused on the horrible ache in your chest. His hands automatically came up to hold your waist, confusion clear on his face as you remained quiet, and he frowned at you in bewilderment while you settled into a more comfortable position on his lap.

He didn’t say anything, though, seemingly content with waiting on you to explain.

Your fingers trembled as you hastily worked at the straps of your dress, almost tearing the fabric, and you nearly cried in pain at the constriction of the cloth against your sore breasts. Tears stung the back of your eyes and you just ended up ripping the straps to pull down your dress. His eye immediately dropped down to your chest, before growing dark and heavy lidded as you shoved the material down to your waist, and he made a noise somewhere between a growl and a purr as his hands squeezed your hips.

“Oh, my dear pet…you must be in pain,” he murmured, low voice nothing but a pleasing rumble, and you couldn’t focus clearly on anything but the intense cramping sensations radiating from your chest. Not even caring if they were walked in on.

“Hurts…please,” you gritted out, settling against his warm body more fully, and you glanced down at your chest with a grimace.

Your breasts were so swollen and heavy, so full that milk wasn’t even beading at your nipples like they usually would, and even just looking at them had you squeezing your eyes shut in pain.

“You’re just so beautiful…and such a good little wife to come to me for help,” Aemond eventually purred, broad hands tightening on your hips once more, before reaching up to smooth over your ribs.

His skin was hot against yours as he then smoothed his palms over your arms, making you gasp and shiver, and he sat up straighter in his seat. He gingerly repositioned you, untangling your dress from your legs so they spread easier over his lap, and you shifted more comfortably over him. His long fingers brushed the swell of your breast, his eye darting up at you when you gasped wetly at the corresponding throb of pain, and you looked at him helplessly.

“I got you, pet,” he said softly, comfortingly, and you felt the knot in your stomach ease at his words.

You felt a little better knowing that he was completely okay with what they were doing.

He braced one arm around your waist, the other hand cupping your breast gingerly, and he flicked his tongue over your puffy nipple before drawing it into his mouth. He gave an experimental suck and groaned deep in his chest at the sudden rush of milk.

You hissed at the first contact of his mouth on your skin, something you always did since he always ran so warm, and you fought the fleeting urge to jerk away. His body heat was higher than the average person, probably something to do with him being a Targaryen dragon rider, and his mouth was searing against your horribly sensitive and aching nipples. Then, however, you tangled your fingers into his soft hair to drag him closer and nearly sobbed as he began to suckle in earnest. You grabbed one of his large hands and pressed it against your ignored breast, his warm palm making you whimper even as it slightly soothed the ache, and you kneaded his hand against yourself. They both moaned as milk dribbled over their intertwined fingers, yours out of relief and his out of pleasure, and you lowered your hand to weakly hold on to his wrist as he continued his massage. Relief swept over you, the cramping sensations blissfully fading with each squeeze of his fingers and each determined suck of his mouth, and you didn’t even realize you were rocking your hips until you felt his hand move back to your hip to push you more fully against him.

He was hard underneath you.

Aemond switched breasts, the hand on your waist moving back to knead your breast and pinch and roll your wet nipple with his slender fingers, and his hot tongue laved over your other breast. He lapped up the milk that had spilled out, licking over your swollen nipple with a small growl, before he latched on and sucked hard.

You threw her head back, pushing your chest against him, and your sudden orgasm was quick and surprising.

You shuddered and bucked over him, grinding your hips against his frantically to draw out your pleasure, and you cried out his name breathlessly. Once your orgasm faded into a warm pleasant hum, you slowly rolled your head forward, and your eyes met the piercing gaze of your husband. He was staring up at you with his pale skin flushed pink, that intense hungry heat was back in his eye, and you saw his tongue dart out to drag over your sensitive peak once more. You squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall back, and your hips began rocking against his once more.

Then, he pulled away, and you could’ve cried at the loss. You quickly realized his hands had dipped under your dress and was fumbling between their bodies, and you almost did cry when you felt him slowly sink into your wet heat. You immediately began rolling your hips, taking him deeper on each downstroke, and his thick girth filled you to the brim perfectly. He hit something deep inside you, easing that horrible empty ache while simultaneously making your pelvis twinge slightly in discomfort, but you didn’t care. You kept that angle, grinding and rolling your hips until you were sobbing, and Aemond pulled you against his chest to pepper small wet kisses over your throat. You focused your eyes on him, meeting his gaze as you continued to move, and he was looking at you with such molten heat that you felt scorched all the way down to your very marrow. You leaned forward, bracing one arm over his broad shoulders, and cupped your still aching breast.

You lifted up until your wet puffy nipple brushed his lips, trailing over his lower lip in an erotically obscene image, his hot breath ghosting over the sensitive flesh made her clench down on him tightly, and he cursed darkly before he latched on with enough vigor to make your second orgasm rip through you.

You wailed in pleasure loud enough to have one of his hands slip over your mouth to quiet you.

You bared down on him on the next downstroke, making his hips jerk up into you roughly and so deeply, and you clawed at him as your body shook and trembled with pleasure that rushed through you and stole the very breath from your lungs. When your orgasm finally subsided, leaving you gasping and writhing, you slumped over him completely boneless. He was still cupping your breasts, massaging lightly, while his hot tongue lapped at your nipples lazily. It wasn’t quite teasing, but the feel of his tongue rasping over your sensitive skin had you whimpering softly and your hips jerking against his once more.

“You did so well, my love,” he purred, sounding utterly delighted and content, and his gaze flicked to you while he nibbled ever so gently on your breast before switching to the other.

You began shifting your hips almost as if you couldn’t help yourself, the sight of him licking at you just as erotic as feeling him still hard and thick buried inside you to the hilt, and his blue eye sparkled. Maybe it was your insatiable body, maybe it was because you could see the heated adoration in his gaze, but you couldn’t stop chasing that familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your pelvis as he continued his ministrations. Your nipples were aching, sore and tender from being sucked on for so long and so enthusiastically, and he traced the puffy ridges with the tip of his tongue.

“Should…should we stop?” you asked hoarsely, rocking your hips slightly faster as your eyes lingered on him drawing your nipple in his mouth and suckling before releasing with a soft ‘pop’.

“Do you want me to stop? I’m here to help, my lovely pet, and I am very interested in seeing how long you can hold out…how much pleasure do you think you can pull from that pretty little cunt of yours before you’re too exhausted to even beg me to make you come?” he asked, never once stopping his kneading or licking, and your hips rolled almost frantically at his words.

He smiled sharply, something wicked and full of dark promise, and you whined high in your throat at the way he studied you from under his lashes.

“Oh, no, love…I don’t think that you’re quite done yet. I know that I am far from done with you.”

#aemond one eye targaryen #house of the dragon #Aemond Targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon headcanons #aemond targaryen headcanons #aemond targaryen smut #house of the Dragon smut #ewan mitchell headcanons #ewan mitchell smut #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #the void answers

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plathfiles · 10 months

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reader trying to study and felix is doing everything to try and distract her

omg I am living for this! felix is such an attention whore but in the best way. Like he loves you so much and needs you around all the time 🥺. But he’ll also do ANYTHING and EVERYTHING for you.

pairing: felix catton x fem!reader

warning: NSFW! Minors dni!!! also first time writing smut so please be kind 💀🙏

————————————————————————

felix and you are studying in his room. he is laying on the floor smoking a cigarette and you were at his desk, studying for a final for you English class.

felix knew you had straight A’s so there was nothing new that you could learn. he knew you were smart and could pass this test, so why couldn’t you pay attention to him.

“Y/n,” he called, turning on his chest to face you. You looked down at him, with a smile on your face.

“Yes, Felix?” You asked, being pulled away from your studying.

“Pay attention to me,” he said, with a little whine and a laugh escaping him.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. “I’m sorry Felix but I can’t. I’m studying.”

“But you already know everything for that class,” he said, putting out his cigarette and crawling over to you.

“I’m stressed I’ll forget,” you said, looking down at him. He was in his knees in front of you, licking his bottom lip. One of his hands was rubbing your right thigh and you squeezed your legs together.

“I can help you relax,” Felix said softly, leaning down gently to kiss your thighs.

You were wearing shorts and one of Felix’s sweaters. You smiled at him kissing your thighs and bit your bottom lip.

Your stomach filled with butterflies and you blushed, “Felix,” you said, opening your legs some more in the chair.

“Yes darling,” he replied. “Tell me what you want?” he asked, continuing to press sweet kisses to your thighs

“I want you to devour me,” you said, stifling a moan.

That was enough for Felix to unbutton your shorts and pull them and your panties down over your thighs and to your ankles.

He pressed kisses to your inner thighs and spread your legs with his hands.

“Hmm good girl, so wet for me already aren’t you?” Felix praised.

You moaned in response, running a hand through his brunette waves. He kissed your clit and loved the way you went feral for his touch. You were puddy in his hands.

“Good girl, wanna hear those sweet noises you make for me,” he said, continuing to eat you out.

Your pleasure increased and a knot was forming in your stomach. “Felix, please, I’m close,” you mewled.

He continued to kiss your center and added his thumb to your clit to push you over the edge. “Cum for me darling,” he said, looking up at your face.

Felix loved looking at what he could do to you. How he could make you feel. “Good girl,” he praised, as you came.

He licked up your juices, causing you to shudder. “Come on, love. Let’s cuddle on the bed,” he said, picking you up from the chair in one swift motion.

You didn’t argue, there was no way you were going to go back to your homework after this. Felix knew exactly how to get your attention.

#felix catton x y/n #felix catton imagine #felix catton headcannons #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x fem! reader #felix catton x reader smut #saltburn #jacob elordi imagine #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi

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vanteguccir · 3 months

Note

maybe a chris blurb with reader being really physically affectionate and constantly cuddling each other? I love all your work btw! 🥰💖

hi pretty darling! thank you so much 🥺 here's your blurb!

Clingy | Chris Sturniolo

a quick, small and fluffy blurb

Chris was undeniably clingy, and it was no secret. He needed to be close to Y/N, always. If he wasn't, it felt like something vital was missing. His touch was a constant presence, whether it was holding her hand, wrapping an arm around her shoulder or waist, or sitting so close that the two practically merged into one.

And Y/N adored it.

It was a crisp winter night in Los Angeles, and Y/N was cozily curled up in the living room of her shared home with the triplets, enveloped by the warm glow of the digital fireplace that Nick had installed beneath the television weeks before.

Chris had somehow convinced her to share a single armchair with him, even though it was clearly designed for only one person. Y/N was perched on his lap, his strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist, constantly pulling her closer to his chest, even though there wasn't even an inch between her back and his chest.

The smell of hot chocolate filled the air, mingling with the faint scent of Chris's Dior perfume.

"Y/N, can you help me with this math?" Nathan - who decided to spend some days with them while off classes - called from the floor, where he was sitting with a stack of books, immersed in his studies for the upcoming exams.

"Sure, Nate." Y/N responded with a soft smile, leaning forward to get off Chris' lap.

"No." Chris complained softly, dragging out the letter "O," tightening his arms around Y/N and giving her a pleading look.

"Sweetheart, come on." Y/N scolded gently, turning to face him, resting her hands on his arms covered by the baby blue hoodie that was too big for him.

His blue eyes softened as his lips formed a pout, his bottom lip jutting out in a way that made Y/N laugh.

"Please, don't go?" Chris's tone sounded like a pitiful whine, and Y/N was sure she could see small droplets of tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

"I'm just moving a few feet away. I'll be back in no time, baby." Y/N reassured him, her fingers slipping into the sleeves of his hoodie, her nails gently caressing his warm skin in hopes of relaxing him. But his grip didn't loosen. "You're incorrigible, you know that?" Y/N said exasperatedly, laughing at his stubbornness.

"Chris, let her go. Now." Nick muttered from the big, gray couch, not looking up from his phone screen, where random lights reflected from the videos he watched on TikTok.

Chris sighed dramatically, a loud sound of complaint escaping his throat before he finally let go, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Y/N laughed softly, standing up and feeling a slight chill run through her body momentarily from the lack of his warmth against hers.

"He's completely obsessed, isn't he?" As she moved to sit next to Nathan, she heard Matt murmuring quietly to the oldest triplet.

"Unfortunately." Nick agreed, rolling his eyes and locking his phone screen, resting the device on his lap.

"Chris should give her a break." Nate joined in, his tone sounding serious even though his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"She is mine." Chris responded indignantly, his voice firm and his eyes widening comically as his arms crossed tighter.

"So possessive." Y/N muttered, shaking her head as Nate laughed nasally.

"I'm not! I'm careful. What is this, a plot against me?" Chris protested, opening his arms in exasperation.

"Yes, you are. A possessive and obsessed idiot." Matt confronted, rolling his eyes and adjusting his slouched position on the couch, retrieving his phone from the pocket of his gray sweatpants.

Chris just shrugged, giving in, a satisfied smile resting on his face as he watched his girl from across the room, his blue eyes shining like stars around his dilated pupils.

Y/N couldn't help but smile back as soon as she noticed it, feeling warm inside thinking about how much he loved her to the point where he couldn't stay away.

As she settled down on the cold floor to help Nathan with his studies, she mentally prayed that he wouldn't take too long to understand that equation, and that soon she could be back in Chris's arms, right where she belonged.

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @sturniolowhore @luvr4miya @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @hearts4chriss @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @junnniiieee07 @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @ksskianshd @soimightlikeoldmen69 @ldr-sl0t @its-jennarose @sainzzsturns @ecliphttlunar @soso-scarlettolivia @bitchydragonparadise @freshsturns @h3arts4harry @patscorner @strnilolo @bernardsbendystraws @mattsneezing @poetatorturadaa @meg-sturniolo @orangeypepsi @jnkvivi @chrisactualwife @fratbrochrisgf @elordilover @somegirlfromasgard @hpyjw @annamcdonalds67 @colorthecosmos444 @dej4vhs

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lipglossanon · 3 months

Text

Nothing But Trouble

Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader <one shot>

word count: 1995

requested by the wonderful @ao3-rex1223 💜🥺

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest (kinda lol), daddy kink, dirty talk, kissing, fingering, spanking, rough sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink

Proofread! ✍️

The first time’s an accident. Your mom tells you she’ll be gone on a work trip for a few days. Plenty of time to invite Leon over for a mini sleepover. So it’s a surprise when you and Leon are getting hot and heavy on the couch to see headlights splash bright light through the windows, making you pull away from him.

“Oh my god, she’s home,” you panic, standing up from the couch and tugging Leon’s hand. “We need to hide out in my room.”

He grins, a wicked curve of his lips, “You don’t want her to see us, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes and lead him upstairs as you hear the garage door roll open, “Yeah, not with your hand down my pants.”

He pushes against your back to quicken your pace. Once inside, he shuts the door before turning to you. He manhandles you until you’re bent over the bed, roughly tugging your jeans and panties down.

Groaning, he swipes his fingers across your slit, “So wet for me, baby. Like that daddy’s playing with this cute pussy?”

“Yes,” you whimper, burying your face into the sheets, “want you so bad.”

“Poor thing,” he mockingly coos down at you before landing a loud slap across your ass, “shouldn’t have been a little brat then, huh?”

“Daddy,” you hiccup as he spanks your ass again, “‘m sorry.”

“Shhh, unless you want your mom coming in here to see her little girl being split open on my cock,” he laughs. “I won’t mind it—show her what a tight, slutty pussy looks like.”

Slick leaks from your hole and glistens off your thighs as Leon spanks you over and over until the skin is hot. Without any warning, you feel him notch the fat head of his cock against your cunt and bottom out in one stroke. His palm covers your mouth right as you scream, body thrashing underneath his heavy weight.

“Hush, sweetheart,” his amused voice murmurs in your ear, “I’m just giving you what you want. Don’t you want daddy’s big cock stuffing you full?”

Your eyes roll back as he grinds even deeper into your pussy, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix in a way that makes your cunt gush, pleasure-pain skating up your spine. His hand moves from your mouth to press against the back of your head while the other slips under your body, pulling the hood of your clit back so the sensitive nub can grind against the duvet.

A stuttering moan leaves your lips, the squelching from his dick pistoning into your cunt sounding loud and salacious in your small room. His rough thrusts grind your clit against your bedspread, sending molten heat to pool in your belly. Leon’s hand grips your head and pulls you up until your body bows.

“This pussy’s just made for my fat cock, isn’t it, baby?” He grunts, “God, your mom could walk in at any time and see me pounding your hot, wet cunt.”

His dick brushes against your g-spot, making you squeal and clamp down on him.

“Daddy,” you pant, “I’m so close, I wanna cum, please let me cum.”

“Such a good little slut,” he praises, “what if I said no?”

Tears clump your lashes together, “Oh, please. I’ll be so good, daddy, please, wanna cum on your cock. Need you to cum in my pussy.”

He chuckles and stills inside your throbbing walls, sending you into a tailspin of need. Your hips writhe back, trying to hump down on his cock, but he stills you with an iron grip on your waist.

“Now, that’s two different things, baby girl,” he whispers into your ear, “you want to cream my cock,” he slips a hand down to your spread open cunt to teasingly rub your swollen clit, “but then, say you need me to cum inside your fat, drippy pussy? Which is it?”

“Fuck, please,” you mewl, brain hazy with pleasure, “please, daddy.”

“Aww, since you’re asking so nicely, I’ll let you have both,” he croons against your hair, “cream my cock and I’ll breed this sweet hole til my cum’s dripping out.”

Shuddering, your hips buck forward into his fingers before pressing back, his cock slipping in and out of your cunt. A few more tight circles against your pudgy clit and your orgasm overtakes your senses. Your pussy walls clamp and pulse against his cock as Leon fucks you harder and harder. He bites down on your shoulder, burying his cock deep inside your hole, cum spurting from his tip as his balls empty into your pussy.

“Good girl,” he pats your hip, sinking more of his weight onto your back until you’re both prone on the bed.

His weight feels nice, lulling you into a sleepy daze as he pets your sides and brushes your hair away from your face. He hisses when his cock softens enough to slip from your messy cunt, slick and cum dripping onto the bed. He cuddles you into his broad chest until a sharp rap at your door startles you both.

“Honey, you awake?”

You freeze, looking at Leon who only laughs to himself. He gets up off your bed and steps into your closet, shooting you a wink as he shuts the door. You bundle your blanket up around your shoulders and clear your throat.

“Y-yeah, come in,” you answer her, hoping it doesn’t smell too much like sex.

Opening the door, she walks into your room with a little smile, “I know I wasn’t due back for a few more days, but they canceled the guest speaker at the last minute.”

“Oh,” you cringe internally, knowing your voice’s a little higher than usual. “Are they going to reschedule?”

She hums, eyes scanning your room before coming back to you, “Yes, it’s early next week, so I’ll be leaving again soon.”

You nod, “Okay then.”

“Well,” she tilts her head slightly, “guess I’ll let you get back to resting.”

She pauses for a second, a little frown pinching her brows before she laughs to herself, “Say hi to that boyfriend of yours.”

“What?” You call out, acid swirling in your stomach.

She waves you off and shuts your door, footsteps disappearing down the hall. You raise up and look over your bed to see Leon’s jacket bundled up at the foot of your bed.

“It’s new. She won’t recognize it,” his smooth voice cuts into your thoughts as he steps out.

“Oh my god,” you flop back onto your bed, “my heart’s beating so fast.”

You let out a little laugh while Leon sits on the edge of your bed.

“Up for a little more?” The corner of his lips quirks up into a half smile as he trails his fingers up to your thigh.

From then on, you sneak Leon into the house at every opportunity. Your mom gives you sly little glances when she catches a man’s jacket strewn over the back of the couch or sees a pair of shoes kicked off by the door. Somehow, you’re always able to keep her finding out that it’s Leon who’s your new beau.

Even though he tries his damndest to get you caught every. single. time.

“C’mon, baby, let me hear you,” he goads, fingers buried knuckle deep in your cunt as you sit next to him on the couch, “your mom’s due back any time.”

He pulls out his fingers and adds a third to your hole before pressing them back inside, tips rubbing against the spongy spot at the front of your pussy. Leon bites your neck, sucking the skin as his thumb slowly rubs across your swollen clit.

“Oh fuck, Leon,” you slur, head tipping back against the couch, making it easier for him to suck and bite at the column of your neck.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he nips the shell of your ear, “this hungry little cunt’s just sucking my fingers in, can’t wait to feel her around my cock.”

“Daddy,” you gasp wantonly, hips rolling down into his hand, “want that, want your cock.”

“Oh, I know,” he simpers, kissing your cheek, “my poor baby and her sweet pussy need daddy to breed her all night long.”

Goosebumps prickle along your skin as your thighs fall open even wider, “God, yes, please, want you to cum in me so bad.”

He growls and fingerfucks your cunt even harder, slick splashing against his palm as it slaps against your mound. The trill of your phone doesn’t even slow him down as you shakily bring it up to see who’s calling.

“It’s my mom,” you whimper and he only smirks, fingers still pumping into your chubby cunt, “Leon.”

“Answer it, slut,” he slows his rough pace but keeps his fingers rubbing against your g-spot as you shakily answer the call.

“H-hi mom,” you swallow down the moans wanting to escape, “y-yeah my boyfriend’s here.”

Leon laughs into your neck and picks back up the hard and fast pace from earlier, pussy loudly squelching and making you squirm.

“Huh? No, no, we’re just making s-some food,” you shut your eyes, hoping and praying the orgasm you feel building in your core holds off just a little longer.

“Oh? You’re on your way home? Oh no, he’ll be gone by then,” you bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as Leon’s thumb circles your clit just right, ratcheting your arousal higher and higher with every press.

“Okay, yeah, u-uh yeah, you t-too, mmhmm,” your mind is blurring, “talk to you later.”

The hand holding the phone drops down onto the couch as Leon brings you to the edge and pushes you over. Slick gushes from your cunt, squirting out all over the couch, Leon’s arm, and onto the floor.

“Oh fuck, fuck, daddy, ‘m cumming,” you wail, back arching as his fingers keep thrusting in and out of your hole, “fuck!”

You squirt again as his fingers keep rubbing and pressing against the spongy spot in your cunt that has your walls fluttering like crazy. After making you cum again, he finally eases his fingers from your swollen cunt, lightly petting your clit with wet fingers until you whimper.

“Fuck me,” you spread your pussy open, folds wet and hole clenching around nothing, “breed me right here, right now, daddy.”

“Fuck,” he growls out, undoing his belt and jeans, quickly shoving them down his thighs to pull his cock free.

You moan as soon as you see his sticky uncut tip, “Please, Leon, want it.”

There’s no finesse as he shoves his cock inside your overly sensitive pussy, not worried about your pleasure at all at this moment.

“What a fucking slut,” he laughs meanly, pinching your clit, “you’re gonna get us caught cause I’m not stopping—told you that I’m gonna breed you all night.”

“Don’t care,” you gasp, pussy rippling around his cock, “just fill me up, feels so good.”

“Goddamn,” he bares his teeth at you, “fuck, you’re so perfect. Got the best fucking pussy.”

Half a dozen thrusts later and he’s spilling hot and thick inside your cunt, sticky ropes of cum painting your pussy walls white.

“Oh god,” you whimper, cunt clenching rhythmically around Leon’s softening cock.

“We’re not finished,” the words rumble from his chest.

With a squeal, Leon pulls you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you upstairs into your room. Shutting your door, he shoves you up against it, licking into your mouth messily, spit dripping from your lips as he kisses you heatedly.

A half hour later, when your mom comes home, she can hear the rhythmic thudding of you getting your pussy railed against your door by, unbeknownst to her, the man who used to be your step dad. She only laughs in embarrassment, planning on talking to you about maybe taking your extracurricular activities to your boyfriend’s place to avoid any awkward talks like this in the future.

#paid requests #kofi commission #fic commissions #stepdad!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #stepdad!leon s kennedy #stepdad!leon #fem!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #resident evil smut

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satorusugurugurl · 25 days

Note

LATE-NIGHT FOOD WITH GOJO PLEASE ML🥺🥺

2AM Snacks:

Summary: When neither you or Gojo can sleep, you head to the kitchen for some late night fun.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Sweet sugary fluff, suggestiveness, language

Word Count: 2K

A/N: Jndndndndn I love this is was so fun to write Nonnie thanks for the request!

Gojo sighed as he stared at the ceiling, slowly turning his gaze before turning towards the clock. It was one-forty in the morning, and he was wide awake. He wanted to blame it on his missions. Being away from you and in different time zones affected him. But it could just be because he was so used to his regular sleep schedule. Usually, he would get a solid three hours of sleep between lessons for the kids and meetings with the higher-ups. Sleep wasn’t something that came naturally to the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.

That was his life. He was constantly on the move, practically sleep-deprived most of the time, and just trying to make the most out of his life. But then there was you. God, you were perfect. Ever since you found out, he only got three to four hours of sleep. You did your damn best to try to make things easier for him. Whether it be making sure he had food waiting for him at home, helping him with his reports, or just listening to him when he needed to vent.

Every little thing you did helped him in the long run. Some of his stress was eased, and occasionally, he had more than a small amount of sleep. He was so accustomed, too. Being able to hold you to feel some additional ease meant the world to him! You meant the world to him.

While he loved having the chance to sleep in a little longer and spend more time with you, there were still times when he was incapable of relaxing. Gojo‘s mind was often wired. He would toss and turn, flipping his pillow, and do every little trick he knew of to try to sleep. Tonight had been bad, though. Gojo tried kicking the sheets off, turning on his sides, and even counting sheep, but nothing, absolutely nothing, helped with his insomnia.

This is how he found himself staring at the ceiling fan above, which turned at an almost tortured, slow speed. Nights like this were the same nights he would get up and wander to the living room to mindlessly scroll through his phone or watch television, hoping he did not wake you up. Seeing that none of his usual tactics were helping ease him to sleep. Gojo rolled onto his side to slowly crawl out of bed when a hand shot out from underneath the blanket, halting his attempt to leave. The sudden contact made him jump, but when he came to the logical conclusion that it was to glance down at you, he half expected you to be still asleep, only to find you staring at him with those pretty eyes he loved.

“Hey,” he whispered, turning onto his side to face you. “Did I wake you?”

“No.” you pressed your lips together, obviously fighting back grin. “But the parasites did.”

Satoru scoffed, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “The parasites?” You nodded enthusiastically, biting down on your bottom lip. “Okay, why did the parasites wake you up?” Gojo felt the bed shift as you inched closer to him with a mischievous giggle. You are so freaking cute.

“They’re saying they’re hungry.”

“Oh? They’re hungry?” he brought your face closer to his, allowing his nose to brush against yours. “And what are the parasites hungry for?”

Another giggle sounded from the back of your throat, and Gojo resisted the urge to kiss you as hard as he could for being so damn cute. “Cookies.” it was official. You were his dream girl, everything he wanted, and if he could marry you right this minute, he would.

“Alright, let’s go make some cookies.”

“You’re going to help me make cookies?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I can cook, sweetheart.”

Sheets were thrown off, and you both hurried towards the kitchen. You set the oven to three seventy-five while Gojo pulled his phone out, searching for a recipe. The results page barely loaded when you snatched the phone from him and placed it on the counter.

“Hey! I was looking for a delicious recipe for us to make.” He pouted, sticking his bottom lip out.

“We don’t need a recipe online. Not when I have my family's secret recipe memorized.”

Satoru followed you around the kitchen, grabbing sugar, flour, chocolate chips, a chocolate bar, and butter. Watching you intently grab the bowls, spatula, and whisk, Gojo realized how normal this was. It wasn’t often you both could be normal and bake like this without a care in the world. Watching you move around the kitchen with such fluidity at two thirty in the morning had him longing for more normal nights like this.

He was so lovestruck that he almost missed you placing the butter into a saucepan. That was strange; he'd never seen anyone soften butter on the stove. Didn’t people typically soften it in the microwave? All thoughts that you were softening the butter went down the kitchen sink when Gojo witnessed you mixing the butter in the side pan, melting it further.

“Whoa, I may not be a chef, but I think you’re doing that wrong, baby.”

You grin as you feel his arms snake around your waist. “I’m not doing it wrong.” The fresh smell of clean linen and musk melted in with the scent of melting butter. Gojo dropped his chin to rest on your shoulder.

“Uhm, aren’t you supposed to cream it with the sugar?” he paused, turning to press a kiss against your neck. “Oh, and just so you know, I was talking about the cookies, not us. We creamed together earlier.”

Grimacing with a laugh, continuing to stir the melted butter to prevent it from burning. “Eww, please don’t refer to us having sex as creaming ever again.” another kiss was pressed against your neck, and you felt your boyfriend’s chest vibrate with laughter.

“What about creampies? You love those!”

“Toru—!”

“You were begging for one earlier!”

“Oh my god, I’m going to beg you—”

“You begged me so prettily earlier.”

You sighed loudly in defeat, focusing your attention back on the saucepan. “To answer your question before you somehow managed to turn it into some sexual innuendo, I’m not some basic bitch.” laughed out loud, pulling back far enough to admire the egotistical smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I’m making brown butter cookies.”

“Oh~ brown butter cookies, those some tasty! Is there a reason why you’re browning the butter?”

“When you brown butter, it makes it taste delicious. It gives the cookies a nutty taste that is absolutely delicious.”

You weren’t kidding. Gojo held you tight. Watching in, the brother went from yellow to a beautiful golden brown. The sweet, almost nutty smell flooded the kitchen, making his mouth water. You hadn’t even finished putting the cookies together yet. He shuffled around the kitchen with you, making sure to keep a hold on you in some way, shape, or form, whether it be his arms around your waist or his hand and yours. Every step you took was close behind.

He watched you with curious eyes As you put a cup of brown and white sugar into a bowl before adding the deliciously cooked brown butter. Watching you cook was like watching someone do alchemy. He helped you crack a couple of eggs that he put in the bowl, and you threw in salt and vanilla and mixed the wet ingredients. Gojo's mouth was watering when you finally added the dry ingredients, including flour, baking soda, and baking powder.

The cookies looked so good!

“Fuuuck~” he moaned, reaching into the bowl and grabbing a blob of the dough. “They smell so good!” He popped the dough into his mouth before pouring the chocolate chips and chunks into the bowl and mixing it.

“You shouldn’t be eating raw cookie dough like that; that’s how you get salmonella.”

Your boyfriend snatched the ball out of your arms, taking over and stirring it as you grabbed the cookie sheet and lined it with parchment paper. “I’ll have you know I’ve been eating raw you don’t my entire life, and I have never once gotten salmonella.” You shook your head with a soft laugh, making Satoru feel he was there with his limbs turned into melted butter.

“All it takes is one time.”

“Don't you dare put that bad juju on me!”

More laughter flooded the kitchen as you reached into the bowl with your finger, pulling out a scoop of the delicious dough yourself before popping it in your mouth, sucking it off. “There, now we both have salmonella together if it happens.” There was something almost strangely romantic about your declaration. But he hoped you both didn’t get sick of that because how could he hold your pretty hair back if you were hug. It's probably best to hope you both didn’t get sick. But then again, in his twenty-eight years of life, he never got salmonella. So he wasn’t worried.

Besides, the cookies were bound to taste a million times better after they were baked, which took ten minutes. By the time the timer rang from his phone, Gojo was excitedly bouncing. The apartment smelled like his favorite bakery, but this time, you didn’t have to share the cookies with anyone (anyone but you). You both stood over the counter, each holding a cookie that had been cooled off for about two or three minutes.

“Cheers!” you announced, gently tapping your cookie against his own before pulling it apart. “Too late night, munchies!”

Satoru smirked, nodding in agreement as he followed your lead, ripping his cookie in half. “To the parasites that contributed to the delicious pastries in front of us.” You hummed in agreement as you both took big bites of the brown butter cookies.

The second the nutty, sugary taste hit his tongue, Satoru threw his head back with a moan. “Fuuuck!” He stomped his bare foot against the floor, chewing the generous amount he shoved into his mouth. “These are so good!” He shut his eyes, imagining different colors and shapes, and let the cookie flavors linger in his mouth. “I feel like Remy from Ratatouille. I can see the symphony of colors that this cookie embodies.”

“See, I told you.” You laughed out loud, and it was as rich and smooth as the melted chocolate inside of the dozen cookies you made. “Browning the butter works!”

“You were right; I will never doubt you again.”

“Good!”

Gojo leaned against the kitchen island, watching you as you ate more of the cookie still in your hand. Aside from the overhead light over the stove, the lights were out, which just happened to illuminate your pretty features. He stared at you for a long moment, swallowing the last bit of cookie in his mouth. You were everything to him. You took such good care of him, the apartment, and the food you made. But you were also his best friend. Someone who would get up with him at two in the morning to bake cookies when neither of you could sleep.

“And I hope you never doubt that I love you.”

The words were sudden, but they were also heartfelt. “I know, baby; I love you too.” Standing on your tiptoes, you leaned over the counter, pressing a sweet, sugary kiss against his lips.

That night, neither of you got the rest of the sleep that you needed. Instead, you snuggled on the couch, laid your head in his lap, and talked about everything and anything until dawn. The cookies were gone, and there may have been a crumb or two that lingered at the corners of your mouth, but the love that was shared between you both was still visible no matter the time of day it was.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @luvsymai

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babyjakes · 9 months

Text

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

event | kinkmas 2023

prompt | monster fucking

pairing | steve rogers x fairy!reader

warnings | me knowing nothing about fairies. reader is in "fairy heat"? bruce captured reader (potentially inhumane conditions for fairy-keeping?) soft sweet steve. size kink LOL. th-thumb riding? fingering. p-pinky fucking? stretching. multiple orgasms. squirting. praise and encouragement that makes me feral. pity kink? is that a thing? if it is, i think i have it.

word count | 1,225

an | i've never written monster fucking (or really anything super fantasy-oriented) so please be kind!! wasn't expecting to get sooo into this, but like there's just something about reader being literally so tiny that steve's pinky stuffs her to the brim that's making me all 🥲🫠😩

what if bruce was off working in some top-secret remote location and brought you back with him: a sweet little fairy he'd captured while working out in the field, just as you were entering your fairy heat 🫠

maybe you're just about 7 inches tall, with the body/proportions of a grown young woman. he's been conducting research on your species for quite some time, so he's able to determine basics like your age, your likely place of origin, etc. he's thrilled to have caught you at the start of your heat

what's your fairy heat? i made that part up simple, it's the span of several days that occur around the same time every month when your body's at its prime and looking to breed. you become insatiably horny, almost to the point of it being debilitating, and all you can focus on during your excruciating waking moments is fucking yourself on anything of appropriate size in sight

you're kept in some sort of incubator in his lab, a glass box that's a few feet by a few feet wide and deep. the bottom of the enclosure is made of a soft cushiony material, making any spot a good spot to lay down and rest. miniature food and water bowls are set out for you, and a bright lamp hanging from the ceiling of the box shines 12 hours a day. it's a pretty miserable existence, your makeshift habitat nothing close to the wide open flower fields and prairies you're used to, but it allows the scientist to observe you closely without any distractions or interfering variables. and since you're in heat, you aren't too worried about where you are or who's taken you. all you can do is writhe around on the soft floor of the incubator in desperate, horny agony

maybe one day bruce is out of the lab, but he told steve he could come check out his new findings and maybe keep you company if you'd let him. when he enters the room and sees you lying there, squirming and struggling weakly, of course the supersoldier's heart is instantly hurting for you 🥺

he approaches the incubator slowly, not wanting to startle you. but pretty quickly he realizes that you're paying him no mind; you're too preoccupied with your discomfort. he takes his time observing you, standing right in front of the glass box as his huge frame towers over you. bruce told him a little about your condition and the science behind it. it made him blush, but he accepted it like he would learning about any other species and their unique reproductive habits

"poor thing," he hums to himself as he watches your tiny body wriggle in distress. he's stunned by how pretty you are. you have the most delicate little face, and your translucent wings with their iridescent shimmer look like something straight out of a fairytale movie. you're completely naked- bruce removed your scraps of moss carpeting and leaf clothing when he found you. but it's not strange or offputting in the slightest to steve. he just thinks you're beautiful, such a stunning little creature that seems too precious for this world 💕

he notices the plugged openings in the glass wall that allow bruce to reach in and work inside the enclosure. carefully removing the rubber inserts, he reaches a large hand in, wanting to offer you some comfort if you'll take it. you're so tiny that you could nearly crawl right into the palm of his hand and curl up if you wanted to

but snuggles are the last thing you're looking for in this moment. when you see his huge hand lying there, palm up just a short distance away from you, you weakly crawl over, wings drooping in exhaustion. you couldn't fly at the moment if you tried

steve is a little surprised as you hoist yourself up onto his thumb, your tiny legs dangling on either side of it. it only takes him a moment to realize what you're doing- his cheeks turn bright red as you begin rolling your hips desperately, a faint feeling of wetness forming on the pad of his finger as you leak your glistening juices all over him

"oh doll-" his voice is dripping with pity and concern. he doesn't try to stop you, just watches as you so needily try to relieve yourself. as strange as the situation is, he can't help but find your primal actions endearing, in a way

he continues watching sympathetically as you grind your tiny little pussy down against his large digit. his heart swells at the way you place your hands down in front of you, trying to keep yourself upright as you rock at a steady pace. just a few moments later, he sees your little body spasming and realizes you've reached orgasm by merely riding along on his finger. "oh my," he hums thoughtfully, watching as your precious little toes curl in delight

your face is much happier after your climax. steve watches curiously to see what you'll do next, staying silent as you climb off of his thumb and move to the other end of his splayed-out fingers. as you lie yourself down on your back and spread your legs out on either side of his pinky, he's again blushing deeply. "o-oh, hey little one-"

he watches as you begin pushing down to press the tip of his smallest finger up against your leaking hole. seeing how much you struggle to maneuver against him, steve takes even more pity on you. "here, doll. let me help," he decides, bringing his other arm through the unused hole in the glass. he moves it over to lift your back up gently, supporting you in a sitting position as he carefully begins easing his smallest digit up into you, smiling affectionately as you let out a soft sigh of relief

"there you go. that's it," he's murmuring encouragingly as he carefully fucks you with his pinky. your little pussy is so tight around him, he's surprised he's able to fit. but you're taking him so well, and there's something so sweet about the way you look as you sit here in his hands, letting him stretch you out over the smallest finger he has 💕

"good, just like that" "such a pretty little thing you are" "that feel good, doll?" "just keep taking it, sweetheart" "so good for me, keep going" he's not sure if you can understand his words, but there's something he finds satisfying about talking to you this way

he can somehow feel your second orgasm approaching, your walls growing a bit tighter around him as he works up his pace a little more to carry you over the edge. "there," he's humming proudly, smiling as you manage to squirt out forcefully against him. your come ✨literally sparkles✨ as it coats his finger

as you're floating down from your high, he strokes your hair with his thumb as you lean up against the rest of his hand that's behind you. your eyes are droopy, your body no longer writhing in discomfort. as questionable as his actions might've been, it's clear he's taken care of much of your discomfort- at least for now

whyyy was this hot 🫠🫠 maybe i need to write fantasy shit more often lol

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wonyopout · 5 months

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thinking about a very cute submissive babygirl princess wony, just like this aesthetic of rolarola's ads 🤤 she's playing all innocent while begging you to spank her pussy ughhh asking you to be rough with her because when you fuck her hard it creates a huge belly bulge and she loves staring at it 😭 and then you're so proud that she can handle your thick big cock so you fill her up to the brim with your cum and she gets even more babygirl with you FAWWKKKKKKKKKKK DASKJIOJIJK

ohhh babygirl wony we love u we rlly do, kinda got rlly into the spanking part like i just need to see her covered in hand prints and teary eyed i need to write more wonyoung + impact play, but anywhooo hope u like it anon took a few creative liberties n its a lil short but this got me outta my writing funk yayyy

[cw]: g!p fem reader, impact play, mommy kink, dacyriphilia sorta kinda

listen, wonyoungs always been very playful with you, all bark and no bite. just wanting to go far enough to tease you and get you just a tiny bit annoyed with her, loves that you start getting short with her and the tone of your voice drops ever so slightly. biting her lip and squeezing her thighs together, embarrassed by how much the shift in your mood is affecting her. shes still your baby tho so more than anything she loves when you dote on her, telling her how pretty she looks for you hehe. The second she sees that you’re actually starting to get pissed she starts acting all sweet and pouting at you. always saying the most sinful things with the most innocent look on her face, things like “you can touch me whenever you want” and “want your cock to split me open, please” with her signature eye smile as if what she just said isn’t making you painfully hard 😵‍💫

she really is a sweetie at heart but she’s always up to something.. glancing at you every now and then before finally waltzing up to you and plopping down on your lap. kissing softly across your neck and jawline (wony is definitely pushy and needy when it comes to kissing) before slotting her knee between yours, grinding down against your knee.

“wan’ you to fuck me please mommy, want you to spank my cunt till its raw and-“

not even letting her finish her sentence before you’re almost knocking her over with how quickly you stand up, dragging her by the arm to your bedroom and pushing her towards the bed.

yanking at the front of her button up baby tee, hearing her whine about how she doesn’t want you to rip it but you really could not care less about that right now 😭 wonyoung gasping when you start landing slaps against her now exposed tits, arching up into your touch. your hand coming down harshly against her chest again and again, her tits bright red as she throws her head back in a moan. tears flowing down her cheeks as you play with her sensitive nipples, pinching the buds between your fingers. pulling her by the ankles toward the end of the bed n making her skirt ride up putting her soaked panties on display.

it starts out playfully enough. swatting at her ass and thighs that are on display thanks to that ridiculously short skirt she’s wearing (it’s one of your favorites). wonyoung giggling, bottom lip caught between her teeth when you ask,

“wore this for me didn’t you?”

grabbing you by the wrist to place your hand against her,

“be rough please, wanna be sore afterwards”

Practically tearing what little clothes she has on off of her after that and immediately spanking her Hard across her leaking pussy, body jerking sharply when you land a slap against her clit 😵‍💫 letting your hand rest against her bare pussy for a few seconds after each slap

“keep your legs spread, doll”

the slaps on her cunt getting increasingly rougher, wonyoung mumbling out ‘sorrys’ every time she accidentally closes her legs bc of the pain 🥺 resorting to holding the backs of her knees to keep her legs open, making it all that much easier to spank her aching clit. quietly hiccuping as fat tears roll down her cheeks, the poor baby. moaning and shaking all the same bc it just hurts so good,

“awe hurts huh baby?” there are tears in her eyes as wonyoung nods at your words. “you’re gonna cum though. gonna cum from the pain, slut??” the question makes her nod her head faster before letting out a sob. she’s getting to the end of her rope, the desperation to cum continuing to build.

drool spilling out of wonyoungs mouth, the obscene sound your hand makes as it comes in contact with her wet cunt and her whines filling the room, pussy all red and abused, your dick straining against your compression shorts at the sight 😵‍💫 alternating between slapping her pussy and her thighs has her mumbling incoherently,

“please- fuck- please need you inside me, pleasepleaseplease-”

You really can’t deny her when she’s begging so nicely 🥺 wonyoungs pupils blown wide when you finally start to strip, grabbing at your waist when you slot your dick between her folds, crying in relief when you finally bottom out and setting a punishing pace 🥴 wonyoung begging you not to stop inbetween sobs, mouth hanging open as she watches the bulge in her tummy appear and disappear as you piston your dick into her. body going slack when you move her into a mating press position, wonyoung almost screams your hand comes into contact with her swollen clit, playing with the spent bundle of nerves 🫠 her moaning when you praise her for how well she’s taking you, promising to fill her up as a reward for how well she’s doing,,

“mommys gonna breed you full m’kay, bunny”

placing her ankles on your shoulders, her legs shaking from the angle making you piston yourself even deeper inside the knot in your stomach growing with each stroke. wonyoungs cunt clamping down around your cock, whining out a drawn out “fuckfuckfuck” as she squirts 🥴 one hand around her neck while you keep fucking into her, finally coming undone and filling her up like you promised, pressing down on her lower tummy n watching your cum spill out of her spent hole while she looks up at you doe eyed and everything ackk

#reqs #asks #ive smut #ive x reader #ive imagines #girl group smut #girl group x reader #jang wonyoung smut #wonyoung smut #jang wonyoung x fem reader #jang wonyoung x reader #wonyopout #can you tell i like impact play hehe #this is v v late gomen oomf chan

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xoluvx · 1 month

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Hi bb! First I am absolutely obsessed with your writing and Billie and Ive just fallen into your page and am in love! 🥹

Would you consider writing about Billie and the reader where the reader has been in a traumatic situation and hates storms and Billie ends up comforting and a little ✂️ action and cuddling to comfort? xx

aw thank you angel 🥺 and omg i love the ✂️ action during a storm hello??? please enjoy thiiiis 💖💖

“It’s okay,” her voice trickled in your ear, soft and warm as she held your close. You buried your face further in chest, gripping her shirt tighter and tighter each time you heard a noise. Chest tightening, body shaking, eyes shut.

“I got you, baby,” Billie whispered wrapping both arms around you as she rocked your body gently.

“It’ll pass,” her tone was reassuring, urging your body to calm down, but you tensed when you heard a loud rumble and she squeezed your arm.

“Hey, look at me” she said holding your chin, lifting your head so you were looking at her. Your eyes were glistening, bottom lip pouting. When your eyes met, you couldn’t help but get lost in her blue orbs, so warm and tender. Even in the dim light of the lamp, they shone. She brought her face closer and you extended your neck, lips touching tenderly.

Her hand spread across your cheek pulling you closer, limbs tangled as your mouths opened and closed hungrily.

It didn’t take long for hands to start prying at clothes, pealing and discarding the articles of fabric until your naked bodies molded into one. So close you could feel the goosebumps on her skin.

She tugged at your bottom lip with her teeth and you let her, drowning in her dominance. Letting her take control of your body and soul. She maneuvered your bodies until you were straddling her, one thigh draped over her torso, the other tucked under her thigh.

Her hands were gentle on your hips, fingers curling on your skin as she urged your body to move. Your wet pussies touched so intimately as you hung your head, lost in pleasure. She watched you through hooded lids, biting her lip as you swayed on top of her so slowly, your clits rubbing just for the sake of feeling close.

She planted her foot on the bed so you could hold her thigh and support your weight. You swayed and rolled your hips. She held your thigh running her fingers up your delicate skin. You moaned and rested your cheek on her knee, the friction overpowering. She lifted her hips and you moved faster, holding your hand under her knee clinging to her flesh as your pace increased; lips parted, moans running down her thigh.

You slid on her pussy trying to reach your high. Mumbling words of encouragement, she watched as you moved on top of her. So beautiful and careless and completely unaware of the storm roaring outside. You felt your pussy tighten as you kissed her knee. You couldn’t hold on much longer.

She squeezed your thigh moving her hips and you caved. Your legs shaking, pussy throbbing as you came on her own pulsing heat.

You took a few seconds to collect yourself. Cheek still pressed on her knee. Mouth open gasping for air. She felt your heart beating against her inner thigh and carefully pulled on your arm bringing you down to her. You laid next to her, leg draped over her body. Chest beating.

She wrapped you in her arms, hand cupping your jaw. Lips touching softly drowning out all the noise. Cuddling, filling you up with comfort and love.

#billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish fic #billie eilish oneshot #billie eilish blurb #billie eilish request #billie eilish smut #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish fluff

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wholoveseggs · 8 months

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hiiii can you maybe do an smut and fluff elijah mikaelson where the reader has daddy issues and oral fixation? 🥺🥺🥺

Pop Quiz

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

How can you possibly pay attention in history class when your professor is that hot? Let's hope you don't fail your exam...

~Thanks for the request anon(s) ♡♡ I hope you don't mind me combining the two ideas!~ ~I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS ONE~

~I've gotten sooo many requests in the queue - I love them all, but it will take me some time to catch up ♡♡ thanks for your patience~

7k words - Warnings: smut, blow jobs, oral sex, daddy!kink, Elijah being bossy, tenth century history...

{Part Two}

You looked up at Mr. Mikaelson, with wide, doe eyes, as you knelt before him. His hand gently caressed your face, his thumb grazing across your plump bottom lip. You let out a soft moan, the heat between your legs becoming unbearable, begging to be touched.

Your eyes followed his every movement as he unzipped his trousers, pulling his hard cock from his boxers. His hand moved to the back of your head, his fingers running through your hair as his eyes met yours, giving you a firm nod, allowing you to take the first taste of him.

Slowly, you took him into your mouth, letting out a sigh at the perfect weight of his cock on your tongue. His fingers tightened around your locks as he gave you a sharp tug, pulling you towards him, causing his length to hit the back of your throat. You closed your eyes as you focused on pleasuring him, sucking and licking at his shaft.

"Good girl, so good for me" He growled, his hips slowly thrusting into your mouth, "Such a pretty little thing on her knees for me".

You moaned in response, the praise he gave you spurring you on, making you move faster, wanting to please him more, wanting him to feel good.

You felt yourself growing wetter as he took control of the movements of your head, his grip on you becoming harsher. You opened your eyes once more, looking up at him as his hips stuttered, and his eyes fluttered shut.

"I'm going to cum," he growled, as his thrusts became sloppy.

"Cum for me daddy," you moaned, then a flicker of confusion crossed your face as the sound of an alarm echoed in your ears.

Your eyes opened, and you shot up out of bed. You rolled over and grabbed your phone, "Fuck!" you screamed, it was 8:30 am.

"Shit shit shit shit" you repeated as you quickly threw on some clothes and grabbed your things.

You raced out the door and began to run to campus, knowing full well that you wouldn't make it on time.

When you arrived at the exam room, you were already 30 minutes late. You wanted to cry, knowing that Mr. Mikaelson would not let you take it. You slowly entered the room, hoping that he would show you mercy, but to no avail.

He sat there, looking just as handsome as he did in your dreams, grading papers as the rest of the class worked in hushed silence.

"Miss Y/L/N," He said, not looking up from his papers, "see me after class".

Your heart sunk as you shuffled towards your seat, dropping your bag next to your desk. You looked up to find the eyes of your classmates looking at you.

"Eyes on your own exams," Mr. Mikaelson warned the class, his tone icy.

The rest of the hour seemed to drag on, with nothing to do, your mind wandered back to your dream, a familiar heat settling between your legs. You had a crush on him since the first day, but lately everything seemed to be escalating. You could barely pay attention in his class, so distracted by your fantasy of having him in your mouth.

When the bell finally rang, you sat frozen in your seat. The rest of the students slowly shuffled out of the room, casting sympathetic glances in your direction as they did.

When the room was empty, Mr. Mikaelson stepped in front of your desk, eyes darkened, waiting for you to look up at him.

"My office. 4:00 pm. You will take the exam. No excuses." He stated matter-of-factly.

Your stomach twisted, and your breath hitched, as you looked up at him through your lashes. He looked stunning. His hands clasped behind his back as he towered above you. He was always dressed with a suit and tie. His hair was slightly messy, probably from running his fingers through his hair and a pair of reading glasses sat low on his nose.

"If you are late, you will not have the opportunity to retake it. Do I make myself clear Miss. Y/L/N?" He looked over your appearance, as you sat there helplessly, his eyes lingering on your lips.

"Yes, sir" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Good." He turned on his heels, walking back to his desk to collect his things, and preparing to leave. "Now be a good girl and go to your next class."

That was it? That's all he wanted to say? Wait, good girl, you thought. You bit your lip, he definitely said 'good girl'. The sudden image of your mouth wrapped around his cock flashed across your mind, and you could feel yourself getting wetter.

Your cheeks flushed red, and you quickly left the room, embarrassed by your own thoughts.

The rest of the day went by in a blur. You barely paid attention in any of your classes, too distracted by the idea of being alone with Mr. Mikaelson. By the time the last bell had rung, you made your way to his office. Your hands were shaking, and your heart was racing in anticipation.

"Mr. Mikaelson?" You asked as you knocked gently on the door, peaking your head inside. "Can I come in?"

"Yes, Miss Y/L/N. Right on time. Good." He smiled, a small, pleasant smile. But it only made you more nervous.

You slipped into the room, slowly closing the door behind you, watching him as he slid the exam across the table, toward you.

"You may begin".

You looked down at the paper before you, it was on the tenth century, a time period you were well versed in. You glanced up at Mr. Mikaelson and shot him a little smirk, pleased that you knew your stuff.

When you finished you slid your paper over to him, with a graceful flick of his wrist he put on his glasses as he looked it over, eyebrow raised, impressed with the way you had answered.

"Do you drink? Wine, bourbon?" He asked as he stood from his desk and walked over to the small bar he had in his office.

"I'll have whatever you are having" you replied, the feeling of your stomach tightening and knotting as he closed the space between you.

"Wine, then," he said, pouring two glasses and handing one to you. "Salute" he clinked his glass with yours as you brought it to your lips.

He moved to the front side of his desk, leaning against it and looking down at you. His face was stoic, but there was something in his eyes, a fire that hadn't been there earlier.

"So," he said, bringing his glass to his lips, "you are a bit of an anomaly to me, Miss Y/L/N" he said as his eyes trailed over you, drinking you in, a familiar flush began tinting your cheeks.

You laughed, a tiny giggle, and smiled, "How so?"

He shook his head and laughed softly. "Well, you test incredibly well, yet you never seem to be paying attention in my class."

Your smile faded, your face burned with embarrassment. You couldn't possibly admit to why you were so distracted.

"Did I say something to upset you?" he asked as he set down his glass of wine, turning his body to face you.

"No, of course not" you stammered, not meeting his eyes.

What could you say? 'You're just really attractive and I can't concentrate in class because I'm too busy thinking about your dick in my mouth'?

"If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you" he replied in a soft tone.

You didn't know if it was the wine, or the strange almost subconscious influence of the dream you had that morning, but you felt brave. You lifted your head and looked him dead in the eye, trying to sound confident.

"I've been having these dreams, constantly lately..." you said, "and they have been interfering with my attention" you paused, studying his face for any reaction, and you continued, a whisper, barely audible "They have all involved you"

The look on his face was enough to send shockwaves through your core. His eyebrows shot up and he moved a little closer, now right in front of you, towering over you, making you feel small. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his arms, the button-up shirt pulled tight, his muscles flexing. This had to be a dream.

"What are they about? If I might ask" he spoke, drawing your attention back up to his face, your cheeks blazing as you gaped at him like a fish out of water.

You blinked rapidly as the realization that this was, in fact, happening, struck you. What could you say? The truth? Surely, he wouldn't take kindly to your mind producing nightly fantasies that starred him? Would he laugh at you? Tell you to get the hell out of his office and go home, never to return? Would he ever be able to look at you again without thinking of you as the pathetic, horny college kid that had a pathetic, horny crush on him? Probably not. But also, you knew that look in his eye, it was the kind all men had when they wanted to fuck you.

Your mind did some quick calculations on how badly this could go, but it seemed like your pussy was in control right now because it was the voice speaking, and it said, "Can I show you? Sir?" as your eyes trailed downward to his crotch.

There, right before you, was the evidence that maybe, just maybe, you weren't the only one in here all hot and bothered by the other. You looked up at him, feeling a little bit smug, as you saw his eyes follow your line of sight before flashing back up to yours.

You didn't wait for his response, instead you moved off the chair and on to your knees, your hands slowly skimming up his thighs, stopping just short of the proof you were sure you'd find in a moment.

"Can I?" you asked, in the most innocent voice you could, which wasn't all that convincing. You were in over your head, and you knew it, a hint of confusion shadowing his face at your words.

"I should be the one asking permission, miss" he responded before he placed his hand on your head, brushing your hair from your face in a gentle caress.

You couldn't believe this was really happening, and you sublty pinched your thigh, hard, and while it did sting a bit, you didn't wake up.

Your eyes met his once more, your hand darting forward and over the crotch of his pants, and yes, just as you hoped, he was rock solid.

Before you had much time to revel in your delight though he gently grabbed your wrist and paused your movements before you could get carried away with yourself.

"We can't do this" his words didn't convince you as you looked up at his face and saw the same emotions he'd displayed since the beginning flash across it.

He wanted this just as much as you did, why was he stopping you?

Feeling bold, you stood, taking his hand and leading him to the plush armchair in the corner of the room, you pushed him lightly, but playfully, causing him to gently fall into the seat

For a split second you enjoyed the image before you, Mr. Mikaelson looked slightly dazed with his glasses askew, as he gazed up at you in the chair.

Then you slowly kneeled between his legs, resting your hands on his thighs. Looking up at him from where you were, you could appreciate his physique, his broad shoulders and strong arms. Even in his suit, you could see the muscle definition in his chest and abdomen, the hard planes visible underneath. He leaned forward and stroked your hair, tucking it behind your ear. You met his gaze and he looked deep into your eyes, his thumb brushing over your lips, bringing them to part slightly.

"Mr. Mikaelson.. Sir" you could hear the neediness in your voice as you melted under his touch. "You don't know how badly I’ve wanted this"

He looked quite flushed, probably just as eager as you were. His brown eyes were almost black. You couldn't think, only focused on the throbbing sensation that was pooling low in your belly.

You grasped the button on his trousers and deftly popped it open. You carefully unzipped him, your stomach fluttering in excitement. You glanced up again and watched his face as you pulled his pants down his thighs. He breathed deeply, eyes closed, looking tense but ready to receive pleasure.

The black boxers he was wearing strained over his erect cock. The shape bulged as you nuzzled against him. You placed small kisses along his shaft, teasing him through the thin material. You lifted his shirt to give yourself a better view, then began tugging his boxers down.

His dick sprung out from under the fabric, and you caught your breath in surprise. It was large, not overly large, just bigger than what you expected. You stroked him gently, becoming accustomed to his size. Your hands followed his length from base to tip, your grip tightening, causing him to groan.

You gave the head soft kitten licks, looking up at him to gauge his reactions. His fingers in your hair slowly pushed your face closer, signaling for you to take more of him into your mouth. You opened your mouth and welcomed the weight of his cock on your tongue.

He tasted so delicious. It was the perfect mix of sweat, musk and pure man. You wanted to make him feel good, to make him lose control. To feel him holding onto you as he tried to contain himself. You bobbed your head and took more of his length with every pass. His breathing became labored and you looked up to see his eyes on you, watching as you sucked him. He looked intensely focused, biting his lower lip.

You slowly pulled off of him, sucking on the tip before letting go with a lewd pop. His cock was slick with your spit, glistening in the lamplight. You licked his length, kissing and sucking along the sides.

"Do you like that daddy?" The words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"What did you just call me?" he breathed, moving your head back so you were face to face again.

Your face flushed in embarrassment, as you avoided his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I was caught up in the moment... I.." Your eyes flickered up to his, and you could see that a smirk had begun to spread on his face.

Your thoughts were racing, had you really just called your professor 'Daddy'? And, more importantly, he liked it?

"Sir..." you breathed as he leaned back in his chair, a confident look settling on his face as he rubbed his scruff.

"Interesting" he said as he looked at you, licking his lips as he studied your face, which was now resembling a ripe tomato.

This was it, he would never be able to look at you with out laughing at the way you had acted. Shame burned hot on your cheeks and you hung your head in embarrassment.

"Look at me," he said softly, when you didn't he placed his finger under your chin, pulling your face towards him.

His eyes searched yours for a moment before he whispered a barely audible "do it again"

"Daddy" you repeated, watching as his cock twitch as you said it.

"Good girl" he praised, lightly pressing on your shoulders.

His hand returned to your hair, drawing you toward him, leading you back down his length. You ran the tip of your tongue around the head of his cock before teasing the slit, gathering precum on your tongue and swallowing it down eagerly.

His hips bucked forward involuntarily and he let out a throaty moan. You smiled and took him back into your mouth, swallowing his cock to the base. You held him there for a moment before bobbing your head rapidly.

"Just like that," he moaned.

You could tell he was close from the way his breathing changed and gripped your hair tighter. "So fucking good," he said roughly, tugging on the strands and angling you where he liked best.

He stilled your movements suddenly, making it so you couldn't do anything but sit still with his dick in your mouth. His cock rested on your tongue, the sensitive head leaking precum. You bobbed your head and continued to suck him, lapping up all of his fluid. His breathing grew ragged as his release approached.

He tugged on your hair, pulling your head off of him so only the tip remained inside your mouth. His eyes were closed, and you took the opportunity to kiss the head of his cock, toying with it between your lips.

"Will you cum in my mouth daddy?"

A loud groan left his throat, his breath coming in huffs. "Jesus, yes."

He held you in place and began thrusting shallowly into your throat, all while you stared up at him from where you knelt. You couldn't break his gaze.

He watched your throat contract as you swallowed him down. He seemed to appreciate the amount of saliva that leaked from the corners of your mouth, tracing a glistening path down to his balls.

You hollowed your cheeks and gave a long, drawn-out suck.

"Oh my sweet girl, do that again." His breathing was labored, his tone deep and raspy. His body jerked slightly, thrusting deeper, struggling to hold back. He cupped your face and brushed his thumb against your cheek, wiping away a tear that escaped.

You did as he asked, looking up at him with wide innocent eyes. He kept his gaze on yours. You opened your mouth wider, relaxing your throat, and let out a soft hum. It sent the most delicious sensation through his dick, sending him over the edge.

You swallowed down everything he gave you, never once breaking eye contact. Your mouth was warm and wet, and you gave little swallows to pull more from him.

He shuddered and you couldn't help but moan around him at how wrecked he looked. His hair was messed up and there was a wild look in his eyes. He was gazing down at you with a possessive, determined expression, like he was seeing you for the very first time.

He slowly withdrew his cock, watching it slide past your swollen lips. You gently hummed and gave the tip a few soft kisses before leaning back.

You could see the satisfied smirk on his face. He released your hair and pushed his cock back inside his boxers. He tucked his shirt back in and straightened up, then tugged you by the arm to help you off the ground.

He was quiet as he looked down at your completely ravished appearance. Your eyes looked heavy and hooded, and your lips were red and puffy from being stretched open. There was a thin sheen of sweat coating your skin and he could see how turned on you were.

He beckoned you to sit on his lap, which you gladly did, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands found their way around your waist, pulling you closer. He kissed your lips tenderly, then trailed his lips along the column of your throat.

You sighed, melting against him, he felt so nice and warm. His stubble tickled your skin, bringing you out of your haze. The closeness of him, the way he held you, was surprisingly intimate. You hadn't expected to be so affected by something so simple.

"That was unexpected," he said softly, as his hands moved slowly along the lines of your sides, the action wasn't provocative, rather it was in the comforting, sensual kind of way. It allowed him to explore your body, to familiarize himself.

As the lust faded, you felt a deep sense of uncertainty about what would happen. You also had no idea where this might lead, or how quickly. It wasn't smart to get involved with your teacher, and it definitely wasn't smart to have his cum in your mouth.You usually knew better than to put yourself in situations like this with people you didn't know. You knew nothing about the man, save for what you learned in his class. But the logical part of your brain seemed to have checked out for the night.

You moved off of him, causing him to loosen his grip on you, his eyes following your movements.

"Thank you for letting me take my exam late, I really appreciate it," you said awkwardly, leaning in to peck him on the cheek.

He gave you a puzzled look and nodded, reaching out to take your hand before you got too far.

"Are you alright?" he asked, gently squeezing your hand, concern etched in his features.

"Yeah, I.. have some assignments due and some studying to do. I should go, I've taken up too much of your time already," you brushed his hand off and swiftly headed out the door before he could respond.

From the moment you woke up the next day, you were dreading going to your history class. Not only had you embarrassingly called one of the hottest men you'd ever met, 'daddy', but then you had given him head and actually liked it.

You'd never acted like that before, it was completely out of character and despite his positive reaction, it did nothing to ease your anxiety around him.

He was such an enigma and it didn't make any sense to you. He looked and acted for all the world like the perfect gentlemen, but there had been an edge to him, when he'd looked down at you while you'd...well, done what you had. Like he was just holding himself back, and you wanted to see what would happen when he finally let go.

Even though it was such a bad idea.

Maybe you should just skip today, maybe the rest of the year, you knew that you would probably spend the entire class thinking about how you sucked his cock. You let out a long sigh, and headed to class anyway, you didn't want to skip your lecture, even though your mind was a muddled mess.

Class began the usual way, and you went about taking notes while he lectured, ignoring the way your face burned when you glanced up and saw him looking at you. At some point he began talking about the vikings and you mind began to wander. Daydreaming about the way his cock had throbbed in your mouth as he came.

You were lost in a daze of desire, subconsciously sucking on the end of your pen, you were unaware of the heated look he was giving you. How he was transfixed by the sight of the pen disappearing between your lips, followed by a flick of your tongue as you glanced up, looking directly at him as you gave it an obscene suck. His eyes narrowed at the sight, you weren't the only one who was distracted.

His lecturing halted momentarily and everyone noticed he looked more flustered than usual. The classroom was quiet, as they all watched in confusion. His eyes met yours and he quickly cleared his throat, shaking his head as if he was coming back to reality.

"Miss Y/L/N, please see me after class" he directed at you before abruptly continuing to lecture.

You looked away, feeling tense, maybe skipping class hadn't been such a bad idea.

You stood there, watching the room empty, and waiting for the last of your classmates to leave. When the room was empty, you approached his desk, where he was gathering his belongings, preparing to leave.

"Is everything ok, professor?" You asked, as he finished putting his books away and turned to face you.

"That's not the term I was hoping to hear, especially considering our encounter yesterday," he said, a smirk spreading on his face.

"Sorry, I..I mean Mr. Mikaelson," you replied, looking down, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"It's Elijah, and I believe that you were referring to me as something else" he teased, his dark eyes searching yours, the corner of his mouth lifted into a sly grin.

Your face flushed, as you remembered how you'd called him 'daddy', and how much he had liked it.

"So, why did you want to see me?" You asked, hoping that you could steer the conversation away from the previous day's events.

"How do you feel about Italian? Tonight, seven o'clock, my place?" He gave you a handsome smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Tonight?" you echoed.

"At seven," he repeated.

"You want me to have dinner at your place?" you clarified.

"Yes," he nodded.

"With you?" you asked.

"Unless you are busy," he teased.

"No, no I'm not. I'd love to. I mean..." You didn't want to accept the date too quickly, like you were over eager to spend time with him.

"Good, it's settled then."

When Elijah arrived to pick you up, you were surprised that he actually came to your door. The typical nervous excitement bubbled in your belly as you opened it for him. He looked so good, wearing a black button-down shirt without his usual blazer. He had no tie tonight and his top buttons were undone.

He seemed to enjoy your outfit choice. Your dress was long enough that it had an innocent feel, but the deep V at the front could not be ignored. It was bold and eye-catching. He took your hand and brushed his lips across your knuckles.

"Shall we?" His brown eyes twinkled.

It was a short drive to his place. He led you through the building and into the elevator, then used a key to access the penthouse. The doors slid open into a massive room, the entire wall facing the city was a huge window, offering a spectacular view.

The floors were a light oak, and the walls a crisp white. Modern art was hung on the walls, and a large, leather couch was situated in the middle of the room. A fire was crackling in the fireplace, and a coffee table was filled with candles, making it cozy. And of course, books. There were books everywhere, on every surface and neatly lined up on the floor.

You walked to the window, amazed by the view. You could see the whole city and the mountains beyond.

"Do you live here alone?"

"I have a brother who stays here sometimes," he replied.

"This place is incredible. The view is stunning."

"I'm glad you like it," he smiled, moving towards the kitchen.

You sat on his kitchen counter, drinking wine as you watched him cook, chatting casually. He was so interesting and passionate, and you enjoyed the stories he told. You found yourself becoming more comfortable around him. The longer you spent in his presence, the better you felt. You were hooked.

"Can I ask you something?," you started, after swirling the wine around your glass, then taking a drink.

"Of course." Elijah looked over at you.

"How are you still single? You're incredibly hot, smart and charming," You blushed, hoping you weren't sounding desperate. He laughed, turning his attention back to the food.

"I don't really have time for dating. I spend all my free time on my research,"

"And sex," You added, a teasing smirk appearing on your lips.

"Is that what you think? That I'm one of those professors?" He smirked, looking amused.

"Are you saying you don't have sex with students?" You asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Not yet," he replied.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you shifted slightly on the counter. His words had the desired effect on you. He chuckled and began plating the food.

"Let's eat while our food is still hot."

Dinner with Elijah was surprisingly pleasant, the conversation was entertaining and he asked you lots of questions about your personal interests, family and passions. You were falling hard for the man, he was just so easy to get along with. By the time he had cleaned everything up and washed the dishes, you were well over your initial awkwardness and laughing more freely.

You walked around his place, admiring the art on the walls. There were beautiful paintings, some that were probably very old and expensive. You noticed a piano in the corner of the living room, and wondered if he played.

The fire was still going and it made the room warm and cozy. You kicked off your shoes and curled up on the sofa.

Elijah walked in with a fresh bottle of wine and two glasses.

"You have an amazing collection of paintings," you remarked, as he sat beside you.

"Thank you, I've collected them for years," he said, handing you a glass.

You smiled as you brought the glass to your lips, taking a sip. You felt his eyes on you and glanced up to meet his gaze. His expression was unreadable, and you suddenly felt self conscious.

"You passed your exam, by the way." He finally spoke.

"I'm sorry I left so quickly. I know that was weird," you looked down, avoiding his eyes.

"I wasn't sure if I had upset you," his hand was warm on your thigh, rubbing gently.

"You didn't, I was just..." You looked up at him, seeing his eyes searching yours, the question was there, and he deserved an honest answer. "I have a confession."

"Oh?" he leaned forward, placing his wine on the coffee table, giving you his full attention.

"I've wanted you since the first day of class," you admitted.

"Hmmm.." He smirked, looking you up and down. The look in his eyes was hungry. "Speaking of class, I have some extra credit work for you," he leaned over, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

Your body was pressed against his, and his hand was holding you in place by your ass. Your nipples hardened as you moved against him.

"What do I have to do, professor?" Your lips parted and he met you, giving you a passionate kiss. You moaned as you twisted his shirt in your fists, responding eagerly.

"Take this off." he tugged at your dress, signaling for you to lift your arms. You pulled away so that he could take the garment off. His brown eyes glowed as he took in your appearance.

You were wearing your favorite lingerie, dark red lace that formed to your figure perfectly. Your nipples pebbled through the material, a noticeable wet patch appeared on your panties.

"Spread your legs." Elijah's voice sent tingles along your skin, commanding yet soft. You obeyed his command, pushing your thighs open.

"Pop quiz, Miss Y/L/N." He teased, tracing his fingertips along the edge of your panties.

"Who was the ruler of the Holy Roman Empire during the tenth century?" He asked, his fingers slowly circling your clit over the fabric. You whimpered, your breath hitching.

"Otto the great." you said, and the moment the words left your lips, he hooked his finger around the thin strap of your thong and snapped it against your hip. You gasped, and the sting made your clit ache.

"Good girl, you're learning" He hummed, rubbing the sting away.

"What significant event took place in 987 AD that marked the beginning of the Capetian dynasty in France?" His finger slipped under your panties and he ran his fingertips through your wetness.

"Hugh Capet was crowned King of the Franks."

"That's my good girl, very smart," his thumb began to rub lazy circles on your clit, his eyes never leaving your face.

"Which Islamic caliphate was at its height during the tenth century and played a crucial role in preserving and advancing knowledge?" He asked, his fingers stroking along your slit, and then circling your entrance.

"The A-abbasids." You moaned as he slipped a finger inside you.

"So you have been paying attention in my class," He chuckled, slipping his finger out of you.

"Yes, Professor Mikaelson," you groaned, rocking against his hand, desperate for more friction.

"Which Chinese dynasty ruled during the tenth century and is often considered a high point in Chinese civilization, known for its advances in arts, science, and technology?" He asked, his breath ghosting across your lips.

"T-the Sung dynasty," You whispered, and he plunged two fingers deep inside you, causing you to cry out.

"Very good, such a clever girl," his mouth covered yours, swallowing your moans.

"Last question," he teased, and you groaned in frustration, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers, but he wouldn't let you move.

"In the tenth century, what Viking explorer is believed to have reached North America, making him one of the earliest known Europeans to do so?" He asked, his thumb grazing over your clit as his fingers curled inside you.

"Leif Erikson," you cried, your hips jerking.

"That's right, such a clever, clever girl," he praised, thrusting his fingers faster, his tongue exploring your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, grinding against him.

You felt a rush of arousal, your pussy clenching around his fingers.

"Do you want to cum for me?" He asked, breaking the kiss.

"Y-yes, please." You stammered.

"Such a polite, obedient girl. What was it you called me yesterday? Daddy? Do you want daddy's cock, baby?"

"Y-yes, I want your cock, daddy."

He withdrew his fingers from you, and you watched as he licked them clean, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Get on the floor."

You slipped off his lap and knelt between his legs. He reached down and unbuckled his belt, his erection straining against his pants. He pulled his cock free and stroked it a few times, looking down at you.

You opened your mouth and leaned forward, pressing his cock between your lips. You looked up at him, sucking eagerly. He let out a deep groan, his hand threading through your hair.

He guided you up and down his shaft, his hips rolling slightly. You loved the feeling of his hard cock sliding over your tongue. He began to move you faster, and you swallowed around him. He moaned, gripping your hair. You tried to take more of him into your mouth, bobbing up and down eagerly.

You could feel him getting close, his fingers digging into your scalp. You sucked harder, trying to bring him over the edge.

Before you could, he pulled you off of him, and you let out a soft cry of disappointment. “Come here," he said, pulling you into his lap.

You straddled his hips, his hands gliding over your body, finding the back clasp on your bra and unhooking it. He peeled the lace away from your body, his eyes blazing with desire as they roamed over you.

He cupped your breasts and leaned forward, capturing nipple between his lips. You moaned, your fingers pulling on his hair as he gently bit down.

You whimpered, arching your back, offering yourself to him. He lavished attention on your breasts, his mouth sucking and licking and biting until your nipples were swollen and aching.

You leaned in and kissed him, your tongues meeting in a slow dance. His hands tangled in your hair as he took control, tasting every part of your mouth, devouring your lips.

You moved your hips, desperately seeking contact. He halted you, a dark look in his eye, he had a dangerous edge about him, which somehow excited you even more.

"On my bed, now," he commanded, his voice thick with desire.

You scrambled off of his lap, and practically ran to his bedroom. He stood and followed you, his predatory gaze making your pussy throb.

He caught up to you and pulled you into him, his hands gripping your hips, pulling your ass against him. His cock was hard against you, and you ground back into him, the friction making you moan.

"Get on the bed and show me what a good girl you are."

"Yes, daddy," you breathed, climbing onto the huge bed.

You got on all fours and presented your ass to him, arching your back.

"Spread your legs," he commanded. You reached behind and pulled the strings on the thong, exposing your wet pussy to him. You could hear him growling with lust, his hands grabbing at your ass, spreading you wider.

You could feel the heat of him hovering over your pussy, his hands gripping your thighs. You let out a low moan, and then his tongue was pressing against you, tracing patterns on your already swollen clit. You gasped, your head dropping to the bed.

"Ohh, daddy, yes," You panted as he licked and lapped at you, sucking on your clit. Your fingers twisted in the comforter. His hands gripped your hips as his tongue swirled around your entrance.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he groaned, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

You whined, rocking your hips back, your pussy clenching around his tongue as he drove it into you. You moaned and rolled your hips, chasing the pleasure, your entire body tightening in anticipation.

"Oh, god, yes. Please, don't stop," you begged, one of his hands trailing along your spine.

The warmth grew until you felt like you were aflame, your whole body shuddering. You came with a cry, his mouth moving with you, continuing to push you through the overwhelming waves.

His hands were on your hips, holding you in place, as his lips ghosted over your ass, pressing open mouth kisses to each of your cheeks. The stubble on his face created a delicious friction against your soft flesh, making you shiver.

The wet head of his cock slid over your pussy, dragging through your slick and bumping over your clit. You whimpered, grinding back against him. He chuckled and delivered a sharp slap to your backside.

"On your back."

You turned over, your chest heaving. He bent down, grasping your thighs and pushing your knees up against your chest. He leaned over you, his lips brushing over yours, his eyes dark.

"I'm not usually this demanding in bed, but you have this effect on me," he rasped, his hands gripping your thighs as he rubbed his cock against you.

"What are you usually like?" You asked breathlessly, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down so his body was pressed against yours.

"I like to savor things. Women. Food. Wine," He explained, his voice thick with desire. "I like to take my time," his lips brushed over yours as he spoke.

"I'm not usually like this either," You admitted.

He smirked, and then captured your mouth, kissing you deeply. You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He positioned the tip of his cock at your entrance, and slowly eased inside you. You gasped, breaking the kiss. You closed your eyes, your back arching as he pushed deeper, stretching you open.

"Fuck," he breathed, his forehead resting against yours.

All you could do was moan in response, as his hips began to move, setting a slow and steady pace. Your hands moved down to his ass, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. He groaned, his lips finding yours once more.

He thrust harder, and you moaned into the kiss. You were completely consumed by him, by his scent, his taste, his touch. He felt so good, his cock filling you perfectly. His hands were planted on the bed beside your head, caging you in. Your pussy was clenching around his cock, your nails digging into his biceps.

You looked up into his eyes, and you were drawn into their dark pools of lust. He smiled, leaning in to kiss you hungrily, swallowing your moans.

"Listen to the sounds you make, sweetheart. You were made for me," He growled, the filthy wet sound of your bodies meeting filled the room as he pounded into you.

You were losing your mind, his cock stroking in and out of you perfectly, his face hovering over yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, desperate to be closer to him. Your toes were curling and your whole body was tingling, every nerve firing.

Your hands moved to his back, fingers digging into his shoulders as he fucked you, his body pressed against yours. His breathing was ragged, his muscles tensing. You could feel the warmth building again, the pressure mounting.

"Cum for me, sweetheart." He rasped.

His mouth was hot against you, his tongue tangling with yours. Your head fell back, his name falling from your lips as your orgasm crashed over you.

He was whispering to you, filthy words, promises and praise all mixed together. The weight of his body pressed you deeper into the mattress, his cock still hitting every sensitive spot. You whimpered and gasped, burying your face in his chest.

"That's it," He encouraged, his hips rocking against yours.

He began panting and you could feel him losing control, his thrusts becoming erratic. You clenched around him and he let out a deep groan, his cock throbbing. He pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as he came inside you.

He leaned in, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss. He kissed you with so much passion, you swore you saw stars. Your hearts beating in sync.

You were both breathing hard, your bodies glistening with sweat. He rolled onto his side, taking you with him. You rested your head on his chest, his arm wrapping around you, his fingers drawing lazy patterns on your back.

"Will you stay the night?" Elijah asked, his lips brushing against yours.

"Yes, please, sir" You sighed.

He chuckled, pulling you tightly against him. You laid tangled up in one another, sharing soft kisses and lingering touches.

You didn't expect to get caught up with your professor, but here you were. Wrapped in his sheets, in his arms. It was probably wrong, but you didn't care. He was completely irresistible, and you were hopelessly drawn to him.

This was definitely going to be an interesting semester.

♡ Do you guys want a part two?? cause I could definitely make this a whole series.. ♡

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