#i need to be completely clear about the thrill

[candy69gurl]

Noncon w gojo but reader is resisting the whole time so he ends up tying them down. And he’s not even trying to be nice about it, he’s degrading her and choking her all that stuff 🤭

BREAKPOINT

PAIRING yandere Gojo Satoru x f!reader

WARNING non/con, unhealthy relationship (red flag Gojo), use of vulgar words, manipulation, humiliation, fingering on kitchen counter, bondage (hands only), blowjob, cumming in mouth, raw sex, breeding kink, orgasm denial, forcing to say stuffs, clit rubbing, pussy eating, nipple play, choking, degradation, lactation kink, multiple orgasms, oversensitivity, creampie, manhandling, so much yanderee

NOTE twitter link here.. sorry for posting late

Dating Gojo, the incredibly good-looking and powerful guy, isn't as simple as you'd think. He frequently reminds you of your perceived inferiority compared to him, and that he could find someone better.

Every time you're with him, he's makes you feel insecure. He keeps putting you down for your mistakes and flaws, always reminding you of all the things he can do that you can only dream about. He often says mean things about how you look and what you can do, making you feel like you're not good enough for him. Even though he's rude and acts like he doesn't care, Gojo still wants you around, making sure you know he's more important in your life.

He's always flirting with other people, which makes it clear he doesn't respect you. When he's with his friends, he completely ignores you, leaving you feeling invisible and unimportant. Your feelings never seem to be a priority for him. It's clear he's more focused on other things, yet he still wants you to stay. You're beginning to realize this relationship isn't healthy for you, but you still crave his approval and validation, hoping he'll see you as worthy.

Your best friend advises, 'You should leave him, girl.'"

"But I love him," you counter.

"But does he love you?"

You stay quiet. Gojo's words may say one thing, but his actions speak differently. Your best friend is right; you realize you need to do something about it. So you send him a text asking to meet at your place, you need to talk to him over this.

Satoru arrives at your house, his long legs carrying him up to the door with an air of confidence. Knowing he's the strongest sorcerer in the world makes him feel untouchable. As he knocks on the door, a thrill of excitement courses through him, anticipating what awaits inside. The familiar scent of your perfume greets him as you open the door, and he smirks, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

He takes off his dark blue jacket, tossing it carelessly onto a nearby chair. His gaze lingers on you for a moment, taking in your appearance before he speaks in a low voice, ... "Been missing my dick, huh?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you snap, glaring at him. He smirks, stepping closer to you, his body heat enveloping you as he looms over you.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" Satoru repeats, a hint of amusement in his voice. He raises an eyebrow, letting the question hang between them, challenging you to elaborate. When he doesn't get an immediate response, he crosses his arms, sitting on your couch and regarding you with a cocky grin.

"So, why the fuck did you call me if you're gonna give me this attitude? " he asks, feigning ignorance. His eyes gleam mischievously, daring you to confront him about your issues head-on.

You stand there, silent for a moment, searching for the words to express your frustration. Before you can say anything, Satoru turns away, sauntering towards your kitchen like he owns the place. He opens the fridge, pulling out a beer and cracking it open with a satisfying sound. Your heart pounds in your chest, your frustration mounting as he drinks it so casually.

As he turns back to you, he raises an eyebrow, the unopened beer in his hand. "You gonna talk, or are you just gonna stand there?" he asks.

"This...this relationship isn't working," you finally manage to utter, your voice wavering slightly. Satoru freezes mid-drink, the beer halfway to his lips. The surprise in his eyes fades quickly, replaced with a cold, hard stare. He sets the beer down on the counter, taking a step towards you.

"Break up?" He repeats, the word hanging in the air like a challenge. "You think you can just toss me aside like an old toy?" He growls, his eyes burning with anger. The force of his personality filled the room, making it hard to breathe. Satoru leans in, his face inches from yours, his blue eyes burning with a fire that matched his temper.

"You better think twice about this, princess," He snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "Once you break things off with me, you'll be all alone. No one is going to love you."

"I'm sure," you say firmly, standing your ground despite the fear in your chest. Satoru's eyes narrow, a dangerous glint flickering in their depths. He steps back, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.

"Did you find someone better than me?" He asks, his voice dripping with disbelief and accusation. The air around you thickens, the tension palpable. Satoru crosses his arms, leaning against the counter, his expression a mix of amusement and contempt. "Tell me... Is his dick bigger than mine?"

You shake your head, your voice trembling as you reply, "No, I just..." Satoru cuts you off, gripping your wrist harshly and pulling you towards the counter. You gasp in surprise, trying to pull away, but his grip is too strong.

He pushes you down on the counter, his dick pressing against your ass, the intensity of the contact leaving you breathless. His eyes bore into yours, the challenge in them undeniable. "Does he fuck you better than me?" he growls, his lips grazing your ear.

You struggle against him, your heart racing as you beg him to let you go. "Please, Satoru...let me go!" You plead, your voice shaking with fear and desperation. Satoru chuckles, his grip tightening around your wrist.

"Not until you realise, what a huge mistake you did by making me mad." he growls, grinding his erection against your ass harder. His eyes bore into yours, daring you to defy him.

Satoru pulls down your pants, revealing your ass. He smacks it hard, the sting of his hand making you yelp in shock. Before you can react, he slides his long, cold fingers inside you, groaning softly at the wetness he finds. His eyes gleam with satisfaction as he mocks you, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, well, looks like someone wants more of my cock even after saying she wants a break." He chuckles, twisting his fingers inside you roughly. His eyes are full of malicious.

You can't help but moan in spite of yourself, your body betraying your intentions. Your mind screams at you to fight back, but your body responds to his touch, betraying your resolve. Satoru's grin widens, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

"Looks like you can't resist me, princess," he taunts, thrusting his fingers deeper inside you. "Maybe you don't want a break, maybe you just want me to praise you while I go down on you."

Satoru grips your head tighter against the counter, his fingers thrusting into you relentlessly. Your body buckles under the onslaught, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. You moan loudly, unable to hold back your pleasure.

Within moments, you're screaming his name, your body convulsing as you cum hard. Satoru watches you with a satisfied smirk, his thumb rubbing your clit in time with his fingers. He continues to thrust into you, milking every last drop of your pleasure.

Satoru carries you mercilessly to your bedroom, leaving you with no time to rest. He quickly sets you down on the bed and his hands rich to unzip his pants. Desperate to get away, you try to crawl away, but he grabs your ankle and uses his weight to pin you down. With a flick of his wrist, he removes his blindfold, revealing his piercing blue eyes. Your heart races, fear and desire warring within you as he takes his blindfold and ties your hands above your head, effectively immobilizing you.

"Please, stop!" you plead, tears streaming down your face as you beg him to release you. "I'm sorry, I take back everything I said! I don't want this!" Your words hang in the air, heavy with regret and fear.

Satoru leans down, his gaze hard and unwavering. "The only sorry I accept is by your mouth showing me how sorry it is by sucking me off." He growls, his finger tracing the shape of your lips. Your heart races and your body trembles at the command.

He pulls himself in front of your head, and you hesitate, your heart racing in your chest. The room spins around you, and the scent of him overwhelms you. You understand you have no choice but to obey, swallow your pride, and submit.

Taking a deep breath, you wrap your lips around his shaft and reluctantly start sucking him off. Satoru growls in approval, his hand entwined in your hair, guiding you. Your mind screams at you to resist, but your body obeys him, your mouth moving rhythmically, pleasing him.

As you continue to suck him off, Satoru's grip in your hair tightens. His movements become more erratic, his breaths growing heavier. Your heart races, a mixture of fear and arousal coursing through you. You're determined to make this quick, hoping he'll release you soon.

You rest your head, waiting for him to untie you. But instead, he parts your legs, grinning wickedly as he rubs his cock against your clit. You flinch, but he doesn't hesitate. With a swift movement, he pushes into you, stretching you painfully. A cry escapes your lips, tears streaming down your face. You beg him, your voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Please, be gentle..."

Gojo grins, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Well, well, I thought you'd be fucking other guys, but you're still tight as hell." He says, thrusting harder into you. "Feels so fucking good." His voice is thick with lust, his movements becoming more aggressive.

Your body tenses, your mind spinning in the turmoil of conflicting emotions. You're angry, yet you can't deny the pleasure he brings you. His words fill you with shame, your skin burning with embarrassment. Despite your struggles, his grip on you is ironclad. You moan, a mixture of pain and pleasure washing over you as he continues to thrust into you. Your mind screams for him to stop, but your body betrays you, responding to his touch.

Every thrust is a reminder of your weakness, your inability to resist him. You can't help but wonder who else he's been with, who else has shared in this intimacy. A wave of jealousy washes over you, your heart beating wildly.

"Fuck, you're gushing," he growls, his hips thrusting into you with increasing intensity. He reaches down, pushing your top along with bra up, his fingers roughly pinching your nipple, twisting it. Your eyes widen, a gasp escaping your lips. "Yet you say you don't want it?" He grunts, his voice thick with dominance.

You can't help but moan, your body betraying your anger. His words echo in your mind, reminding you of your place. Despite your struggling, your body responds to his touch, your clit throbbing with each thrust.

Gojo mocks you, his voice dripping with venom. "What's that, are you enjoying it, slut?" He asks, his movements becoming more frenzied. "You think you can find someone better than me? Someone who fucks you better than me?"

His words cut deep, your heart racing with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. You can't help but moan, your body betraying your anger. He laughs, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"Look at you, begging for my cock, you worthless slut." Gojo sneers, his movements growing rougher. "I'm the strongest sorcerer in the world, and you think you can insult me? Ha!" He laughs, his eyes shining with malicious delight. "Listen up", he slows down his thrust making sure you listen to him instead of moaning, "Don't you dare bring that break up again, I own you, I own this pussy, I own your fucking heart, I know it, you love my baby and I love you too.. So let's.. let's be like before, me and you, together.. We can have a baby too, our own family .. so beautiful.", with that he starts pumping into you again hard and fast, desperate to fill you with his fertile seed.

Your cheeks burn with shame, your toes curling as his thrusts grow stronger and rougher, and just before you hit your orgasm, he pulls out, "That's what you get for disobeying me."

You gasp, your pussy gripping on to him as he pulls out. "That's what you get for disobeying me," he growls, his eyes blazing with anger. You feel a wave of disappointment wash over you, your orgasm cut short.

He stands over you, his chest heaving, his gaze locked on your face. You shrink under his gaze not daring to question him why he stopped, you know everything is your fault. NO, he made you believe everything is your fault, but you cannot help but accept it, you cannot help but accept his cock inside you.

Gojo leans down, his eyes gleaming with malicious delight. "Look at you, clenching around nothing, desperate for my cock." He mocks, his hands gripping your thighs. "Worthless slut."

He licks your clit, a cruel smirk on his face. You whimper, your body trembling with need. His tongue teases your clit, your moans growing louder. He chuckles, enjoying your helplessness.

Gojo's hand glides over your body, his touch electric. "Do you want me to finish you off?" His voice is a combination of cruelty and seduction.

Your heart races, your body trembling with need. You nod, unable to speak, your mind filled with a mix of shame and lust. He grins, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Gojo raises an eyebrow, his gaze locked on your face. "Beg for it, slut." He demands, his voice thick with lust.

You hesitate, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. He slaps your pussy, making you jolt. "Beg," he repeats, his voice cold.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding, "please, make me cum..." You whisper, your voice barely audible.

Gojo's eyes squint, "Hmm, how about you say you love me 69 times then I will think of it."

Your eyes widen, your heart racing with a mix of anger and desperation. You know you have to do it. "I love you," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." Your voice grows stronger as you continue, each 'I love you' more genuine than the last.

Gojo watches you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He leans down, his tongue darting out to trace the curve of your clit. "Keep going.." He orders, his voice rough with desire

You nod, your face heating up with desire and shame. "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." You repeat, your voice growing stronger with each word.

Gojo's tongue traces your clit, his movements slow and deliberate. You moan, your body trembling with need. He smiles, his eyes locked on your face. "Good girl," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

He slips two fingers inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. "Keep going..."

Your heart races, your body trembling, "I love you... I love you... I love Satoru..." You repeat, your voice growing stronger with each word.

Gojo's fingers slide inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. You moan, your body shaking with need. He smiles, his eyes locked on your face. "Yes.. yes" He encourages, his voice rough with desire.

You continue to profess your love, your body trembling with a mix of desire and shame.

After what feels like an eternity, Gojo slides his fingers out, replacing them with his tongue. You whimper, your body trembling with anticipation.

He licks your clit, his tongue tracing the curve of your most sensitive spot. "Good girl," he praises you, his voice thick with lust. "Sixty-nine times, I counted each 'I love you.'" He chuckles, his eyes locked on your face. "That's a lot of love for me, baby," he teases, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Now, let's make you cum."

His tongue traces the your walls, his movements slow and deliberate. His eyes locked on your face for your reaction. "You taste so good, so wet and needy."

Your abdomen shaking as you move your hips against his face, you cry out, your body trembling with pleasure as you cum. You collapse there, your heart pounding with a mix of ecstasy and shame.

"Untie me now," you plead, your voice shaking with emotion. But Gojo shakes his head, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, "Nah uh, not till I cum, filling your little pussy."

He inserts himself back inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. Your pussy is oversensitive, making you cry out in pain. "No more," you beg, your voice filled with desperation.

Gojo grits his teeth, his eyes squeezing shut as he feels your walls clenching around him uncontrollably. He slows his pace, allowing you time to adjust to your oversensitivity.

As you recover, he starts thrusting into you, his movements slow and deliberate at first. His pace gradually increases, his eyes locked on your face. "You like being a slut for your boyfriend, isn't it?" He growls, his voice thick with lust.

You moan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and pain. "Yes," you admit, not caring about your self respect anymore.

As he thrusts into you, his movements become faster, his eyes locked on your face. "Good girl," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "You're such a good little whore, aren't you?"

You moan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and pain. "Yes," you admit, not caring about your self-respect anymore. "I'm your little slut."

Gojo chuckles, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Hmphh, keep squeezing me.. A-ah," he growls, his pace increasing even more.

Your eyes roll at the way he's choking and fucking you like a monster, his hands around your neck, his thrusts relentless. Gojo leans down, his lips colliding with yours in a rough kiss.

You moan into his mouth, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and fear. He pulls back, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Hah! You gonna cum again?," he mocks.

You groan, your body trembling with a mix of pleasure and fear. "Yes.. Hngh- please I am gonna cum again" You admit, your voice shaking with emotion.

As he thrusts into you, his movements become frenzied. "Y/N, let's... try it again.. together... Can't you imagine? How lovely you will look with your tummy swollen and round with my baby, and milk flowing from your breasts. Just think of it", he bites his lips imaging all of that. He unties your hands, letting them grip onto anything they find.

Your mind is unable to make out his words, you just nod, taking his cock like a doll.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your skin as he sucks on your nipple. "Gonna fill you, hmmph," whimpers escape his lips, "You are so obedient for me baby."

As Gojo nears his climax, his thrusts become frantic, his movements fierce. You cry out, your body trembling with pleasure and pain.

His thrusts become stronger, his movements more intense. Your walls clench around him, milking him as you cum again. He roars, his eyes locked on your face. "Yes, cum for me, baby, cum for your strongest boyfriend," he growls, his voice thick with lust.

He fills you with his seed, his movements slowing as he finishes. "You did well, baby," he pants, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He loosens his grip on your neck, allowing you to breathe.

You collapse against him, your heart racing with a mix of pleasure and fear. "F' me, am your little.. slut.. ." You whisper, before passing out .

Gojo's lips caress your bruised neck, licking them before giving you a small peck on your lips. "I love you, Y/N, I appreciate you," he mutters, his voice thick with lust. "But I ain't gonna spoil you."

He wraps his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Both of you fall asleep in each other's arms, exhausted from the passionate night.

In the darkness of the night, he whispers in your ear, "Never gonna let you escape me, my little play thing."

[requiemforthepoets]

hii do you write for franco? if yes can i request a fic where reader is short and insecure about her height so she’s afraid their relationship won’t survive his “f1 career” cause of the lifestyle and all the girls he’s going to meet so despite really loving him she tries to breakup with him but he won’t let her?

tell me that you’re still mine, tell me that we’ll be just fine 𖦹 FC43

PAIRINGS: franco colapinto x female!reader

SUMMARY: when you found out that franco will be racing for williams racing, you were so proud of him. though at the back of your mind, you can’t help but overthink about your relationship with him now that he’s finally in f1.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: hi! thank you so much for sending your request. it’s my first time writing for franco, but i really had fun. i hope you’ll like this one and it’s up to what you were expecting. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, insecurities (mostly comparing self to others), cursing, low self esteem, overthinking, anxiety, and no use of y/n

As you stand in the Williams garage, you can clearly hear the hum of the whole circuit buzzing all around, and you can’t help but feel so proud. Franco had just achieved what he had been dreaming of since childhood—his first official race in Formula 1. It should have been one of the happiest moments of your life, watching him stand there, helmet in hand, chatting animatedly with the engineers, that wide grin plastered on his face. You knew how hard he worked for this, how many nights you spent listening to his dreams, encouraging him through the frustrations of karting, and celebrating every win, every milestone. You were there through it all, and here he was now—your Franco, living his dream.

However, alongside the pride that you were feeling, a bitter feeling also crept in. It had been lurking at the back of your mind for days now, only growing stronger with each passing moment. It was not about Franco’s career, but more about where you fit into his new world. The glitz and glamor, cameras that seemed to follow every move, the polished and perfect people that surrounded him—people you had never imagined yourself fitting in with.

Lily, Alex’s girlfriend, had been nothing but sweet to you all weekend. You bonded with her quickly, her kind words and warmth is a welcoming comfort amidst the chaos. Yet, as much as you liked her, being around someone so gorgeous and effortlessly poised had only made you feel even smaller. You weren’t tall or glamorous like her or the other WAGs, nor were you used to the attention, and you barely have a successful career. You were just…you. A university student trying to get by through her classes, someone who barely knew what to do when a camera pointed your way, and someone who couldn’t help but wonder if you were truly cut out for this kind of life.

When Franco finally made his way back to you, you could hardly breathe. He greeted you with that same wide smile and a soft tender kiss on the lips, his eyes still sparkling from the thrill of the race.

“Can you believe it?” He laughed, pulling you into a hug. “I can’t believe I just raced in F1. This is really insane.”

You smiled weakly, arms wrapped around him. Trying to steady your racing heart. “I’m so proud of you,” you murmured against his chest. But the words felt heavy, there was something you needed to say, something you dreaded.

After the media frenzy died down and the team began to clear out, you knew it was time. You asked Franco if the two of you can go to his driver’s room, away from the lights, cameras, and the noise. He nodded and led you towards his driver’s room, completely oblivious to the storm brewing inside of you.

When you reached his driver’s room, he locked the room to give you two some privacy. Franco quickly sensed that something was off with you, immediately frowning.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, as your hands shook as you fumbled with the words. “Franco…I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?” His voice is gentle but confused.

“This. All of this.” You gestured around vaguely. “I don’t belong in this kind of world. I don’t look like the other girls in this kind environment, I don’t act like them. I just feel like…I’m not cut out for this, you know. For you.”

He blinked at you, and then—he laughed. A soft incredulous sound that only made your chest tighten. “You’re joking, right?” But you just shook your head, throat tightening painfully. “I’m serious, Franco.”

His smile faltered, eyes searching your face, and then he grew serious. “You’re breaking up with me?” He sounded like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing at all.

You bit your lip, feeling your resolve crack under the weight of his words. “I think I have to.”

Franco stepped closer, shaking his head in disbelief. “No. No way. Hell no. You’re not doing this.” He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly. “Tell me why. What’s really going on?”

You stared at the ground, unable to meet his eyes. How could you even tell him? How could you put into words the overwhelming insecurities that you had been drowning in.

“I’m not enough for this life, for your life,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “I’m just…me. You deserve someone who can handle all of this, someone who doesn’t feel like they are drowning every time the cameras turn their way. I’m scared that this will change us, that it will change you.”

Franco squeezed your hands tighter, forcing you to look at him. “You’re scared?” He asked softly. “Of what exactly? That I’ll stop loving you because I’m in F1 now?”

You nodded, chest tightening as tears began to fill your eyes. “I’m not like them, Franco. I don’t belong here.”

He pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “Listen to me, and you listen well,” he whispered. “You’ve been with me through everything, literally everything. Since my karting days. You’re the one I want with me, not some random model, not someone from this kind of environment. You.” He gently cupped your face, making sure that you were looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not breaking up with you. Not because of this, not because of anything. I love you so much. If this life makes you uncomfortable, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

You shook your head, still overwhelmed with doubts. “But I don’t know how to—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted softly. “I don’t really care about any of that. All I care about is you. I’m not losing you just because you think that you’re not enough. You’ve always been more than enough for me.”

Tears finally spilled over, and Franco wiped them away with his thumb. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, okay?” He added.

You let out a choked laugh, burying your face in his chest. “Okay,” you whispered, feeling the weight of your fears slowly start to lift.

Franco kissed the top of your head as he kept you close, his voice soft but firm. “Look at me,” he said, lifting your chin so your eyes met his. “There’s no one else I see in my future but you. No one else who matters like you do. I don’t care about the noise or what other people say. Let them talk all they want, I don’t give a shit. You’re the most important person in my life.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket chasing away the chill of insecurity. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered, how much you wanted to believe him. “But people will judge, Franco. They already are.”

Franco shook his head, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I don’t care about them. They don’t know you like I do. I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve loved you through it all. That’s what matters, not their opinions.”

You bit your lip, trying to push away the lingering doubts. “It’s just I don’t want to hold you back. You deserve someone who—”

“I already have someone I deserve,” he cut you off, voice unwavering. “You’ve been there for me through everything, you believed in me when no one else did, even when I wasn’t sure I believed in myself. I’m not letting you go because of some stupid insecurities about fitting in with this world. I don’t need someone from this world. All I need is you.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time they weren’t from doubt or fear. They were from the overwhelming love you felt at that moment. “You’re sure?” You whispered, voice trembling. “You’re really sure?”

Franco smiled, the kind of smile that made everything else melt away. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. You’re my future, not them. Not anything else. Just you.”

As you stood there in his arms, you let yourself believe it. Because the way he looked at you, the way he spoke, it left no room for any doubts. You were the one he wanted, and that was enough.

After a long moment of silence, just feeling the comfort of being in his arms, you finally pulled back, wiping the last of your tears and giving him a small and sweet smile. The tension that had been weighing on you had lifted, already been replaced by the familiar warmth you always felt around Franco.

You wrinkled your nose playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Okay, as sweet as this moment is, you really need to freshen up. You stink.” You teased, giving him a playful nudge.

Franco let out a laugh, the sound light and easy. “What? No way, I smell like pure victory,” he grinned, pulling you back into his arms, purposely trying to rub his post-race sweat on you.

“Franco!” You squealed, trying to push him away. “Ew, Franco! You’re all sweaty!”

He laughed harder, his arms tightening around you for a second before he finally let you go, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’ll go and freshen up,” he said, his grin still wide. “But don’t think I didn’t notice how you were crying on me. If anything, you owe me for that.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, fine. I’ll owe you. Just go clean up before I regret taking you back,” you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from him.

Franco winked at you before heading off to freshen up, not forgetting to steal a kiss from you. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ve got plans for us to celebrate.” He threw a playful look over his shoulder.

You shook your head with a laugh, feeling lighter than you had in days. The doubts that once felt overwhelming now seemed small in comparison to the love you shared. Franco was right—together, you could figure out everything, just like how you both always do.

[buckets-and-trees]

Camaraderie

Characters/Pairings: raunchy!Bucky x curvy!female reader Word Count: 3.4k Summary: Meeting up with the impossibly hot guy from the thirsty to fuck dating app didn't turn out to be a one-time thing... Hooking up with Bucky Barnes wasn't healthy, and you couldn't quit the habit, but he's so good at what he does, you can't resist the itch for him when it needs to be scratched.

Content Warnings: modern AU, hook up culture/bootycall, established sexual relationship, explicit and rough smut, oral (male and female receiving)/deep throating, 69, vaginal fingering, some overstimulation, multiple orgasms, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, humiliation, degradation (use of "slut"/"whore"), use of "baby" as a term of endearment, praise, general dirty talk, cum play/marking, taking photos, aftercare

Author Notes: This is a follow-up to Parking Lot Chem, but can absolutely be read as a standalone and/or out of order.

Logistical Notes: My September/final offering for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo 23-24 using the ANTI-HERO and AFTERCARE prompts. I'm also submitting this for @steviebbboi's 200 Follower Celebration (kink prompts: oral sex, overstimulation, mild degradation, dialoge prompts bolded) and @mercurial-chuckles's SMUT-BER fest (prompt: marathon session).

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You know you should never text Bucky Barnes.

Daytime you knows he’s horrible for you.

A relationship would go nowhere with him.

You know it. He knows it.

You’ve both been very clear this is only sex.

Dirty, late night hook ups.

The next morning, you’re always resolved that last night was the last time.

But you don’t delete his number.

He gives you space. So much space. There’s no pressure, and that’s one of the reasons you don’t close the door completely.

Sometimes he initiates a conversation, sometimes it’s you. It goes about four to six weeks like clockwork.

And always after midnight.

Tonight it’s you who sent up the bat signal.

YOU: Hey! It’s been a while! How’ve you been?

HIM: Not bad… How’s life for you?

YOU: Also not bad. I moved - pretty close to where you work, actually…

YOU: You working tonight?

HIM: Got a new job actually. Still night shift, but building security downtown.

YOU: Oh, that’s good though, right?

HIM: Better gig, better pay. Still bad hours, but our fun doesn’t have to end…

YOU: Oh?

HIM: Let me come over when I get off and I’ll get you off.

There’s literally nothing romantic about it.

But you’re aching for a good fuck.

And that’s why you agreed to let this man you’ve been hooking up with in the dead of night in a parking lot for the last eight months to show up for a bootycall between two and three am.

Because it was going to be so late, you told him where the spare key was, told him to let himself in, to come to your bed, and to wake you up when he got there.

The forbidden thrill of that arrangement gave you a bit of a second wind, but when you’d tucked yourself back in bed and done a bit of doom-scrolling, your eyes had eventually drooped and you’d dropped into sleep.

You stir a little bit as you are nudged onto your back, but it’s when Bucky starts in on aggressively groping your breasts, having immediately pushed up the silk camisole you put on, that you groan and come to.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness. Bucky's silhouette looms over you, his calloused hands cold against your skin as he roughly kneads your tender flesh. A shiver runs through you, desire pooling low in your belly.

"Missed these tits," he growls, voice husky with desire.

You arch into his touch, your body responding even as your mind struggles to catch up. Bucky wastes no time, his hot mouth latching onto a nipple. You gasp at the sensation, your hands instinctively flying to Bucky's hair. He bites down, just hard enough to make you whimper, before soothing the sting with his tongue.

"Fuck, Bucky," you moan, already breathless.

He releases your breast with a wet pop, moving to give the other the same treatment. He sucks hard, teeth grazing your sensitive peak, and you whimper. His other hand slides down your body, groping at your pussy over your silk shorts.

“You put these on special for me, yeah?” he probes, and you nod. “Such a whore, though,” he continues. So desperate to let me use you that you told a fucking stranger how to get into your house so he could ruin you.”

His words make you clench around nothing, desperate for him to ruin you just like you know he can. Bucky chuckles darkly when you mewl as he grinds the heel of his palm over your clothed clit.

"Such a needy little slut," he murmurs approvingly. "Bet you've been thinking about my cock all night."

"Took you long enough to get here," you whine.

He doesn't respond, just crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. His stubble scratches your chin, sending tingles down your spine. You clutch onto his bulky arms. His mouth is minty - either gum or mouthwash or mints popped at the last minute - but the rest of him just smells like sweat and faint musk. You doubt he even owns cologne. His body and the way he uses yours are why you don’t fight the itch when it flares up for nights like this.

Bucky breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck. He bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder, surely leaving a mark. You gasp, arching into him.

"Gonna use you so good," he growls against your skin. "Gonna fuck you 'til you can't walk straight."

"God, yes," you moan, spreading your legs wider in invitation.

Bucky hooks his fingers into the waistband of your silk shorts, yanking them down roughly along with your panties. The cool air hits your heated core and you shiver. Bucky's hand slides up your inner thigh, his calloused fingers teasing your sensitive skin.

"Already so wet for me," he growls approvingly as he cups your sex. "Such a dirty girl."

You whimper as he slides two thick fingers inside you without warning, pumping them slowly. His thumb circles your clit, building the pressure steadily. Your hips buck against his hand, chasing more friction.

"Please," you gasp, clutching at his muscular shoulders.

"Please what?" Bucky asks, curling his fingers to hit that spot inside you that makes you lose all shreds of dignity around him.

"Please give me your fat cock, Bucky!” you beg.

He chuckles again. “I bet you’re such a good girl in the day where everyone else can see you, but you crave this - you crave the depraved things I do to you in the dark. That’s why you’re so fast to beg for me already.”

You moan, and your body trembles with anticipation as Bucky's other hand roams over your chest, then grips your neck, rough and possessive.

He squeezes slightly, and you whimper. “Please,” you croak out.

He withdraws for a moment, but you bite back any sounds of protest as you hear the rustling of fabric, clang of a belt, and the pull of a zipper as he quickly sheds his clothes.

He sits back on his heels, looking down at you as you squirm, holding his thick, hard cock. You lick your lips at the sight, your pussy clenching in anticipation. Bucky strokes himself a few times with the hand that had been in your cunt moments before, spreading your wetness along his length.

"Don’t worry, baby," Bucky coos. "I'm gonna give you exactly what you need."

With his other hand, he grips your arm and pulls you down so you lay sideways across the mattress. You’ve only ever hooked up in his truck, so the freedom of space adds an element of mystery to what hell do with you, and you love it. He kneels with thighs on either side of your head, looming over you, and then he slaps your face with his cock.

You gasp at the sudden contact, and he hits you with it a couple more times. Bucky grins down at you wickedly, clearly enjoying your shock.

"Open up, slut," he grunts.

You obey eagerly, parting your lips as he guides his cock into your mouth. He doesn't ease into it, instead shoving himself deep until you gag around his length. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to breathe through your nose.

Bucky holds your head in place with his thick thighs, his hips pistoning as he fucks your face mercilessly. The wet, obscene sounds of your gagging fill the room, mingling with Bucky's grunts of pleasure.

"That's it, take it all," he groans, pushing even deeper.

You relax your throat as best you can, letting him use your mouth with abandon. He leans forward, pushes your thighs apart, and buries his face in your cunt.

You moan around Bucky's cock as his tongue laps at your folds, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. He sucks hard on your clit, making your hips buck involuntarily. The dual sensations of his thick length stretching your throat and his skilled mouth on your pussy are overwhelming.

Bucky's stubble scrapes against your inner thighs as he devours you, his left hand gripping your hip to hold you in place. His flesh hand snakes up to squeeze and pinch your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure-pain through your body. You whimper and writhe beneath him, struggling to focus on pleasuring his cock as he rapidly brings you to the edge.

"Gonna cum for me, baby?" Bucky growls against your cunt, the vibrations making you shudder. "Want you to cum all over my face while I fuck that pretty little mouth."

You moan around him, the vibrations making him hiss in pleasure. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as he batters the back of your throat, but you don't pull away. You live for these moments when Bucky uses you roughly, treating you like you’re worthless, only a set of holes to be used, because you’re so tired of being good, of working hard, of over achieving, of living up to everyone’s expectations. The only thing he wants from you is your body, and it feels better than any guilty pleasure you’ve ever indulged in before.

Your orgasm hits you suddenly and forcefully. Your body convulses as waves of pleasure crash over you, muffled cries vibrating around Bucky's cock. He doesn't let up, continuing to lap at your oversensitive clit as you writhe beneath him.

Just as it becomes too much, Bucky pulls back, releasing your hips. He slides his cock from your mouth, leaving you gasping for air. Before you can catch your breath, he flips you onto your stomach and yanks your hips up.

"That's one," he growls. "Let's see how many more I can wring out of you before I'm done."

Without warning, he slams into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. You cry out, fingers clawing at the sheets as he sets a punishing pace. The wet sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room in the dead of night.

"This what you've been craving, sweetheart?" he taunts, pulling his cock out and rubbing the head of his it through your folds. "My cock splitting you open?"

"Yes, yes, Bucky!” you sound like a cliché porn star, but you know he loves it, and you don’t care about letting loose and going mindless and dumb around him. He doesn’t expect anything more from you.

Without warning, he slams back into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

You cry out, the stretch bordering on painful. Bucky doesn't give you time to adjust, he never does. He pursues a punishing pace, and now the headboard bangs against the wall with each powerful thrust.

"Fuck, you're so tight," Bucky grunts, his hips snapping against yours. "You always feel so good around me, baby. Such a perfect little cock sleeve."

His vulgar words send a thrill through you. You moan shamelessly, pushing back to meet his brutal thrusts. Bucky's metal hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise, while his flesh hand snakes around to rub harsh circles on your clit. The dual stimulation quickly builds the pressure in your core.

"That's it, take it slut," Bucky growls, his hips pistoning relentlessly. "You love being used like this, don't you?"

"Yes!" you cry out, beyond shame at this point. "God, yes, Bucky!"

He chuckles darkly, then suddenly pulls out. Before you can protest, he flips you onto your back and hooks your legs over his shoulders. He slides back in with a groan, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper.

"Wanna see your face when you cum on my cock," he pants, leaning down to lick a stripe lewdly up your face.

"Oh fuck, Bucky!" you cry out as he pounds into you relentlessly. The new angle has him hitting your g-spot with every thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

Bucky's eyes are dark with lust as he watches you come undone beneath him. One hand wraps around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your head swim. The other hand grips your hip bruisingly tight as he jackhammers into you.

"That's it, baby," he growls. "C'mon, don't you wanna be good for me?"

You nod frantically, unable to form words as the pressure builds inside you. Bucky's thumb finds your clit, rubbing harsh circles that have you seeing stars.

"Cum for me," he commands. "Now."

As if your body is conditioned to obey him, your walls clench around him rhythmically, but Bucky doesn't slow his pace. He fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging it until you're a trembling, oversensitive mess beneath him. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes from the intensity.

"That's two," Bucky growls, his hips still snapping against yours. "Think you can give me one more?"

You whimper as he squeezes your throat, starting to restrict your oxygen.

Your head swims as Bucky's hand tightens around your throat, his hips never slowing their relentless pace. The mix of pleasure and oxygen deprivation has you floating, barely aware of anything beyond the stretch of his cock inside you and the pressure of his fingers on your windpipe.

"Answer me," he growls, loosening his grip just enough for you to gasp out a response.

"Y-yes," you croak, your voice hoarse. "Please, Bucky..."

He grins wickedly, releasing your throat entirely. You gulp in air as he hooks his arms under your knees, folding you nearly in half as he drives even deeper. The new angle has you seeing stars, each thrust hitting spots inside you that make your toes curl.

“Let's see how much more you can take."

Bucky's pace becomes even more brutal, if possible. The headboard slams against the wall with each thrust, and you hope your neighbors are heavy sleepers. Every nerve of your body is on overdrive, overwrought.

You're trembling, overstimulated and overwhelmed, but Bucky shows no signs of slowing down. His cock pistons in and out of you relentlessly, the obscene wet sounds of your coupling filling the room as he keeps you folded in half. You're vaguely aware that you're babbling, a stream of "please" and "fuck" and "Bucky" falling from your lips.

His hot breath fans across your face as he looms over you, steel-blue eyes locked on yours with an intensity that makes you shiver.

"Look at you," he growls, voice rough with exertion. "So fucking desperate for my cock. You'd let me do anything to you, wouldn't you?"

You nod frantically, beyond words at this point. Bucky's hand comes down to rub harsh circles on your clit, and you cry out at the added stimulation. Your oversensitive body trembles, teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

"Cum for me again, baby," Bucky commands. "Show me how much of a slut you are for my cock.”

He pinches your clit harshly, and you scream into another orgasm. And still he fucks you as you shake and tremble beneath him. He’s too big and too strong for you to do anything but take it.

He clamps a hand down on your throat again, and your vision starts to blur at the edges as this filthy god moves like a machine above you. The lack of oxygen intensifies every sensation - his cock pounding into you relentlessly, his thumb still circling your oversensitive clit, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.

Just as it becomes too much, Bucky pulls out. Your legs fall clumsily to the bed, and Bucky moves so he’s sitting on your chest, straddling just below your breasts, and pinning your arms down to your sides as well. He viciously strokes his cock, grunting for a few more moments, before he groans and shoots his load over your face and chest, ribbons of hot, sticky cum hitting your skin.

You gasp and pant, struggling to catch your breath as Bucky's cum cools on your skin. Your body feels like jelly, utterly spent from the intensity of your multiple orgasms. Bucky sits back on his heels, still straddling your chest, admiring his handiwork.

"Fuck, you look good like this," he growls, voice husky with satisfaction. "All marked up and used."

You whimper, too exhausted to form words. Bucky chuckles darkly, running a finger through the mess on your face and pushing it between your lips. You suck obediently, tasting the salty bitterness of his release.

"Such a good little cumslut," he praises, his other hand trailing down to tweak one of your nipples, making you yip beneath him.

Bucky's weight lifts off you as he shifts to the side, his breathing also heavy.

For a moment, there's only the sound of your combined panting filling the dark room. Then Bucky chuckles low in his throat. "That was better than the truck."

You manage a weak laugh in response, still too overwhelmed to form words. Bucky reaches over and flicks on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow. His eyes roam over your body, taking in the full mess he's made of you – the cum on your face and chest, the bruises already forming on your hips and thighs, the way your pussy is still clenching around nothing. He rolls off the bed and roots round in his discarded clothes, then stands once he’s found his phone.

"Hold still," Bucky commands, raising his phone. You hear the click of the camera as he captures your debauched state. "Something for me until next time."

You should protest, should demand he delete the photos. But a part of you thrills at the idea of Bucky having these reminders of you, of looking at them and getting hard thinking about using you again.

He disappears into the bathroom, returning moments later with a warm washcloth. To your surprise, he gently cleans you up, wiping away the evidence of your encounter from your skin. It's an unexpectedly tender gesture from someone who was just fucking you senseless.

"Thanks," you murmur, your voice hoarse.

Bucky just nods, tossing the washcloth aside when he's done. He starts gathering his clothes, pulling them on efficiently. You watch him silently, knowing there was no version of this where he stayed, and honestly you didn’t want him to. You wanted to sprawl freely in your bed and drift away into the few hours of blissful sleep you could steal before having to get up for work and didn’t want to deal with a morning after.

After hunching over and lacing up his boots, he stands, reaches for your hand and pulls you up and to the edge of the bed. “C’mon, get up,” he urges.

Too tired and bewildered to protest, you amble out of bed and follow as he tugs you along, leading you to the bathroom. He turns the shower on, grabs a towel and tosses it over the rod for you. He checks the water temperature, adjusts it slightly, then turns back to you.

He laughs, and you realize your face is broadcasting your confusion. “You’ll sleep better if you shower off the sex and sweat, baby.”

He steals a filthy kiss, licking slowly into your mouth, then ushers you into the shower. “See you next time.”

Next time. The words send a shiver through you, even as your body aches from the intensity of what he’s just done to you.

“I’ll lock the door behind me when I let myself out,” he says.

“Okay,” is all your exhausted mind and body can put together. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he echoes and smirks.

The hot water washes away the smell and grime of the debauchery, soothe your aching limbs, but they don’t wash away the memories of what he did, and you don’t want it to. They go into a collection of how he extracts pleasure from you, and those memories will tide you over for a while on some of the darker nights when you’re feeling particularly horny.

But he’s right.

You won't feel this way in the morning.

But there’ll be another next time, your middle of the night self will win out eventually, you’ll just put it off for a while. Besides, it’s due to be his turn to be he one to break first and put out the feelers for a bootycall.

You won’t say no.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[muletia]

[tfp] optimus prime x reader

summary: optimus handles the "would you still love me if i was a worm?" question a little too well

cw: fem!human!reader, fluff, optimus is fucking obsessed with you, bad writing, silliness

word count: 545

"Optimus?" you asked, breaking the silence.

Behemoth stopped working on his datapad, giving you his full attention. His private quarters were dimly lit, except for the soft blue glow of his patient optics, illuminating your figure, comfortably seated on his desk. Wrapped in a blanket and lying on the cozy couch that Optimus had personally brought in for you, you felt safe.

"Yes, my dearest?"

You couldn't quite explain what compelled you to speak the words that began to slip from your lips. Perhaps you just needed some validation in that moment, or maybe you were feeling a little down and wanted a mood boost. Whatever it was, it took over.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

"What is a 'worm'?"

Embarrassment washed over you. You shouldn't have said anything (even if part of you was curious to see how he would respond).

It didn’t help that he was staring at you with those big, puppy-like optics, patiently waiting for an explanation. Oh God, he took it completely seriously. It shouldn’t have surprised you, knowing who you were dealing with, but this wasn’t the kind of question to take seriously. You would've been thrilled if he just said a simple "yes."

You cleared your throat.

"Ermm, well, you know..."

He absorbed every word like a sponge, analyzing, debating within himself to find the right response, unaware of your sudden awkwardness. He didn’t consider your question childish; he wanted to give you an honest answer that reflected his feelings.

After several seconds of silence (though to you it felt like hours), his mouth moved, and the reply that came out was one you never expected.

"I would build you a large garden with the richest soil in the universe, decorate it with your favorite flowers and plants, so you could enjoy the view before you when you decide to leave your shelter. I would visit you at every free moment, sharing updates about life, discussing human craft that recently captivated me. At night, I would carefully lift you onto my servo, so we could gaze at the radiance of the night sky together. I would treat you as my equal, with unchanged gentleness, affection, and devotion, admiring your beauty beyond your physical form, speaking to your soul. And just as I do now, I would be devoted to you, ready to answer your every cry, gesture, and request, overjoyed simply by being able to help. I would love you as a worm, a plant, a stick, or a stone, nurturing my love for you until my final days, faithful only to you."

The look of astonishment on your face made him a little concerned.

"[Your name], is everything alright? Did I say something inappropriate?"

"Wow..." not the most eloquent response, but your brain was too fried to come up with anything better. You blinked a few times to regain your composure, but it didn’t stop the blush from spreading across your face. "That was... beautiful. No, really, I didn’t expect such a powerful answer."

Optimus surprised you again by sending a gentle smile your way, softening the metal contours of his face. And then, whether consciously or not, he fired a return shot.

"And would you still love me if I was a worm?"

[usagii-bun]

PART 3|| ⭑.ᐟ 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌| 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋 ! 𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝗑 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝟣𝟪+ [MDNI]

— (𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗂𝗆𝗒𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗑.)

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒...in which you are a cam girl and he is your favorite viewer OR in which you are a final year college student and he is your new professor ♡

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌... smut, rough sex, oral sex (f and m),possessive sex, hair-pulling, vaginal fingering, spanking, masturbating( f and m), doggy style, mating press, language (these warnings are for all 4 parts)

also, please do like, reblog, and comment. i love to hear your thoughts about this <33

word count: 10.2k

As you enter the college hall, a familiar blend of nerves and anticipation washes over you, a feeling that has lingered since last night. The memory of your earlier slip sends a wave of heat to your cheeks, and you struggle to reconcile the embarrassment with the thrill of the moment.

'Professor' you had moaned during your cam session, the words escaping your lips before you even realised what you had said. Lost in a whirlwind of illicit fantasies about Alhaitham, you hadn’t registered the slip until it was too late.

Great. They probably think I have a professor kink. A thought that, while tempting to entertain, is one you refuse to acknowledge fully. The mere idea of facing Professor Alhaitham after your indiscretion makes you want to combust or just fucking disappear.

Last night, you had surrendered to the allure of your fantasies about him—four times—each time caught in a delusion about a man who, in reality, would never see you as a viable partner.

One you are his student.

Two, he seems to possess an almost otherworldly quality, as if he has emerged from the ether without parents to guide him.

Three, he exudes an aura that suggests he wouldn’t be interested in dating someone younger than himself.

And four, he is your professor.

He embodies everything you desire in a man: handsome, intelligent, and caring. You shake your head, inhaling deeply to clear the clutter of thoughts centered solely on him. If you’re going to survive this day without embarrassing yourself in his presence, you need to rein in your thoughts and emotions. With a confident smile, you push the doors open, your gaze sweeping across the room until it settles on him at the front.

“Fuck.”

Your resolve crumbles as your eyes lock onto Professor Alhaitham, who appears even more captivating today. The sight of him—tall and composed, absorbed in his notes—takes your breath away. He is already there, exuding an air of calm as he flips through his documents, completely unfazed. Dressed in a crisp white button-up shirt, the top button undone, revealing a hint of his collarbone, and fitted black slacks, he looks effortlessly sophisticated.

His tousled hair frames his face perfectly, and his glasses perch on the bridge of his nose as he reads. 'Please bend me over your desk and take me like the—' Your thoughts freeze as his gaze suddenly meets yours. In that moment, something shifts. His expression remains largely unchanged, yet the flicker of recognition in his eyes sends a jolt through you, leaving your heart racing and your mind reeling.

“Well, well,” he remarked, a dry amusement threading through his voice as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. “It’s so nice to see you on time for once.” The memory of your first encounter flooded back, a moment etched in your mind when he had delivered a sharp insult that stung more than you’d like to admit.

Your cheeks burned with lingering embarrassment, but you couldn’t resist the urge to scoff, rolling your eyes dramatically as you made your way across the room to your usual seat.

“What can I say?” you retorted, a thick layer of sarcasm coating your words. “I wouldn’t want to deprive myself of another opportunity to bask in the brilliance of your lectures.”

A faint smirk danced at the corners of his mouth, his eyes glinting with an intelligence that was both sharp and playful. “Careful,” he replied, his voice smooth as silk, each word deliberately measured. “Too much sarcasm, and the first-years might start thinking you’re only here for my company.”

Maybe I am here only for your company, you thought, directing him a subtle glare that barely masked the tumult of thoughts swirling in your mind. Memories of last night crept in, and you fought to anchor yourself back in the present, pushing aside the alluring distractions that threatened to pull you under.

His casual yet cutting remark sent a wave of heat to your cheeks despite your best efforts to remain unfazed. You opened your mouth to shoot back a snarky response, but the way his gaze lingered on you—intense and probing—made you falter, if only for a fleeting moment.

There was an unmistakable energy in his eyes—a blend of challenge and teasing—that left you feeling slightly unsettled.

“You seem a bit on edge today,” Alhaitham observed, his tone casual, yet there was a note of curiosity beneath it. “Oh, I just didn’t sleep well last night,” you deflected, the lie slipping easily from your lips as you tried to mask the real reason behind your unease. “Too much caffeine before bed.”

Alhaitham hums thoughtfully, a knowing glint in his eyes that sends a shiver down your spine. “Caffeine, huh?” he muses, tilting his head slightly as if weighing your words.  “I suppose it’s easy to blame caffeine for sleepless nights. But you know, it’s often the mind that keeps us awake,” he replies, his voice smooth.

“Maybe you should try clearing your thoughts before bed instead.” He leans in slightly,  “Or do you have other distractions keeping you up?” His tone is casual, but the underlying implication sends your heart racing.

You couldn't show that his words affected you, your mind racing about last night. You felt paranoid like as if he knew but you knew that was impossible as you meet his gaze, a mixture of surprise and intrigue washing over you. “I guess you could say that,” you reply, your voice steady despite the flutter in your stomach. “But it’s not always easy to silence a restless mind, especially with everything going on.” You lean back slightly, trying to play it cool.

You wanted to high five yourself for the sleek answer as you watched his expression change, your eyes focused everywhere but on his. “What about you? You seem like someone who has it all figured out.” Alhaitham chuckles softly, the sound low and almost intimate. “Is that what you think?” he asks, his eyes never leaving you even as you pointedly avoid his gaze. “I might be good at keeping things in order, but even I can’t escape a wandering mind sometimes.” He pauses, watching you fidget slightly. “Though I find that facing what’s on your mind is often more effective than avoiding it,” he adds, his voice dipping just enough to make your pulse quicken.

You shift uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze, heart racing, before deciding to escape the tension. You force a nervous smile as you slowly inch your way towards your desk. "Haha, wise words from a wise man,” you say with a light laugh, hoping to ease the tension, but the moment the words leave your mouth, you cringe internally.

Alhaitham raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “That’s a bit of a shallow observation, don’t you think?” His tone is calm, but there’s an edge of intellectual superiority that stings. “I expected something more insightful.” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment as you finally reach your seat, sinking into it quickly.

You drop your bag onto the desk, hoping the conversation is over, feeling the weight of his comment linger as you try to brush it off. you dropped your bag onto the desk and slid into your seat, opening your laptop to prepare the slides for today’s lesson. The early morning email from Alhaitham had come as a surprise, his note brief and to the point, requesting you to compile his last-minute thoughts into a presentation. He didn’t have time to do it himself.

“You could have sent me this last night, I spent my whole morning putting this together for you.” you whined, the words had slipped out before you could catch them, an echo of your frustration. “Oh, I didn’t want to worry you,” he had replied, his tone deceptively nonchalant. “I kept you late last night with our little dinner.” There had been a pause, a shift in his words.

“You probably had other, more important things to do after that.” Again, your paranoia ate at you. The implications hung in the air like a heavy fog, and heat rushed to your cheeks as your mind drifted back to your cam session, remembering the way you’d moaned his title for your audience. You turned back to the slides, flustered, trying to focus on the task at hand but you couldn't help but reply back. “Well, I would have still had it done,” you said defiantly, straightening in your seat and meeting his gaze.

“Then you would have probably slept throughout the whole morning and ended up coming late for my first-year lecture,” he countered, his voice smooth and unbothered. “Better than listening to you drone on like a monotone robot,” you replied, a smirk tugging at your lips as you leaned back in your chair.

“Touché,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. He straightened up, a glint of something unreadable in his eyes. "But if I’m a robot, then that makes you my delightful assistant—crafted to enhance my teaching.” He says, his large body shadowing over yours as he stood infront of the desk you sat at, he tilts his head as if sizing you up.

“Crafted, huh?” you retorted, crossing your arms defiantly. “Maybe you should send me to a repair shop then; I’m definitely malfunctioning.” You raised an eyebrow, maintaining your playful stance, but the heat of his gaze made your heart race.

For a brief moment, the atmosphere shifted, the playful banter charged with an energy that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you draw your focus back on your laptop. You didn’t notice the subtle knowing smile that crept onto Alhaitham’s face as he walked around your desk, the air around him radiating warmth.

Then he stood behind you, leaning forward with one hand bracing the desk just beside your arm, the other slipping into his pocket. The proximity was almost suffocating, and before you could stop it, your mind drifted—back to last night, when you’d been in front of your camera, your body on display for your audience. Your face flushed at the memory, heart thudding wildly in your chest.

How could you think of it now? You’d been lost in your own little world last night, playing to the camera, murmuring 'Professor' in a breathy tone that was meant for faceless strangers.

But now, with him standing right here, close enough that you could smell his clean, woodsy scent, the recollection of your voice—his title—was all you could hear. Your breath hitched. The warmth of him, the way he leaned in just slightly, his scent swirling around you—it was almost too much.

Your heart raced, and for a second, the boundary between reality and fantasy blurred. You swallowed hard, biting your lip as your mind drifted to the idea of his body pressed behind you, his hands gripping your waist tightly— surely to leave his hand prints behind as he takes you from behind, the strong harsh thrusts of his hips slamming into your ass, his teeth biting into the exposed skin of your shoulder as he — A soft pat on your head jolted you back to reality, and you blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks.

The touch was so unexpected, so casual, that it shocked you back to the present. “Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “The slides look great. You’ve done well.” The praise hit you like a jolt of electricity, making your pulse stutter. There was something about the way he said it—calm, composed, yet laced with a teasing edge that made heat creep up your neck.

You could feel your entire body react, the tension coiling in your stomach as his hand lingered for just a moment longer than necessary before pulling away. You turned to look at him, to say thank you but instead your words were stuck in your throat. His face was inches away from yours, your eyes widen slightly.

“And also stop letting your mind wander while I talk to you; I’d prefer to think you’re hanging onto my every word,” Alhaitham said, his intense gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

You could hardly focus on the lecture as your mind spiraled into uncharted territory. 'Yeah, I’m actually thinking of hanging onto you as you push me against the wall and take control. ' The thought sent a rush of heat through your cheeks, and you quickly averted your gaze, trying to suppress the flustered smile threatening to break free.

“Right, because your words are the only thing worth hanging onto,” you shot back, attempting to sound more confident than you felt. “Next, you’ll be telling me you could give a TED talk on the art of monotony.” He chuckled softly, the sound low and amused.

“Monotony is a skill, you know. But perhaps I should consider changing my approach, just to keep your attention.” His smirk widened, and you could see a glint of mischief in his eyes as he added, “Or perhaps you need a more stimulating environment to stay engaged.” As he stepped back, the distance between you returned to its normal state, but the warmth lingered in your cheeks, along with the remnants of the heat his proximity had ignited.

For a second, you were grateful he couldn’t see your face when he turned his back towards you—flushed as it was with the sudden flood of thoughts—thoughts you shouldn’t be having in a classroom.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand, even as your heart raced, and your mind replayed his words. Good girl. You wanted to melt into the floor. The lecture began soon after, and despite your best efforts, your thoughts kept drifting.

Alhaitham’s voice was steady, commanding the room with his usual composed authority, but you found it hard to concentrate. Instead of taking notes, you doodled absently in the margins of your notebook, your mind wandering between the slides and the lingering warmth of his touch, the teasing praise he’d given you.

You had barely noticed the end of the lesson when the shuffle of students leaving the room pulled you back to reality. As you began to gather your things, Alhaitham, ever perceptive, leaned over and plucked the sheet of paper you’d been doodling on from the desk.

“Doodling, I see?” His voice carried that same air of dry amusement, his brow arching slightly as he looked at the aimless swirls of ink. “Not exactly an artistic masterpiece, I suppose you’d rather doodle than listen to me" he said, his voice smooth and teasing, “I could always give you a bunch of thesis papers to mark instead.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to resist. “Wouldn't want to ruin your flawless teaching reputation, Professor.” You gestured dramatically toward the stacks of papers on his desk. He tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eye.

“At least I’m not the one doodling during a lecture, potentially ruining my students’ futures.” He crossed his arms, feigning a look of mock disappointment. You let out a soft laugh, reaching to take the paper back, but he held it just out of reach, his expression maddeningly calm.

“I’m not here to make your lectures look good,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “I’m here because I have to be.” He gave a quiet chuckle, folding the paper and slipping it into his pocket like it was something valuable.

“Well,” he said, that same infuriating smirk tugging at his lips, “you’ve been doing quite well, as my assistant. Though I have to admit, your work ethic sometimes leaves room for improvement.” You narrowed your eyes at him, the subtle possessiveness in his tone slipping past you entirely.

“My work ethic?” you echoed, giving him an exaggerated look of mock offense. “I’d say you’re lucky to have me.” His smirk widened, the faintest hint of something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

“I never said otherwise.” There was a brief pause, and then, casually—almost too casually—he added, “I enjoyed your company last night.” Your heart skipped a beat.

He’d said it so smoothly, without a second thought, but it lingered in the air between you, heavy with implication. Your mind raced back to last night, the way he’d looked at you when you’d shared that quiet moment, the conversation last night felt just a little too intimate.

For a moment, you hesitated, unsure of how to respond. And then, with a small, teasing smile, you asked, “And... what would that make this, then? Another ‘company outing’?”

Does that mean he sees you more that his student ? Maybe he now saw you as a friend, that was a good step to getting closer to him ? Correct ?

He paused, his eyes flickering with something deeper, something darker. “Another… occasion for your assistance,” he replied smoothly, though the weight of his words seemed to carry a deeper meaning. “In a slightly different context.” Your breath caught at the subtle, suggestive undertone in his voice.

The way he said it—so calm, so controlled—made your heart race faster. “But not today. I have other plans for us,” Alhaitham said, his voice low and deliberate. Your brows furrowed as you processed his words, the weight of it hanging in the air.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Oh really? Should I be concerned or flattered?” you shot back, sarcasm lacing your tone, though the flutter in your chest betrayed your casual front.

Alhaitham’s lips curved slightly. “Depends on how much you enjoy surprises,” he replied, his gaze still holding yours, the tension between you unmistakable.

“But what kind of surprise?” you asked, a hint of sarcasm in your tone, raising an eyebrow at him. Alhaitham’s gaze remained steady, lips curving into a faint smirk.

“Marking,” he replied simply, his tone casual, though there was an edge to it you couldn’t quite place. You blinked, unimpressed.

“Marking? That’s the big surprise?” He shrugged, leaning back slightly. “What? It’s important work,” he said, his voice laced with amusement, but the way he said it made you feel like there was something more lurking beneath the surface.

The walk back to his office was thick with tension, the quiet hallway amplifying every footstep. The college was nearly deserted, only the hum of distant lighting and the faint echo of their steps filling the space. The cool evening air filtered through the open windows, contrasting with the warmth that radiated between them.

Alhaitham towered over you, the height difference making you feel small but far from insignificant in his presence. When he unlocked the door to his office and gestured for you to enter, you weren’t prepared for what you saw—a pool table, sleek and out of place, dominating the room.

His office was a mix of academic and personal space, bookshelves lining the walls, his desk neatly stacked with papers, but the pool table stole your attention. You raised an eyebrow, glancing at him.

"Oh well this is new...I didn’t exactly peg you for someone who plays pool." Alhaitham grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

"Professor...Kaveh’s doing. The idiot’s redoing his office and shoved it in here until he’s done." His tone was laced with annoyance as he shrugged off his coat, tossing it onto a nearby chair.

He moved with calculated ease, and when he turned to lock the door behind him, his gaze lingered on you, darker than usual. You stood there, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, feeling the weight of his attention.

You chuckled softly, taking a moment to admire the table’s polished surface. “I’ve never played before,” you confessed, glancing up at him. His usual detached demeanor softened slightly, something unfamiliar flickering in his eyes. "Well, why don’t I show you how it’s done? It’s Friday, after all. We can relax today instead of working." he said quietly, walking toward the table.

His voice was calm, but there was a dangerous undercurrent that made your pulse quicken.

"But what about the papers you wanted to mark ? 'The suprise' Don't you need to submit them soon?" you question, Alhaitham gazed back up at you and than at the clock on the wall.

"It's past my work hours. Once it hits five and I have no other obligations, I clock out." He says nonchalantly, your brows furrowed as you remember all those days he kept you way after 5 doing tedious and even sometimes silly tasks that kept you with him in his office till 7 or even later.

You didn't say anything as the thought of spending more time with him, just the two of you in this quiet office, sent a thrill through you. You glanced around, noticing how the dim lighting created a cozy atmosphere “You know what? Why not?” you replied, a grin spreading across your face as you finally relaxed to the idea or playing a simple game of pool with your professor.

Alhaitham smiled back, and you could feel the warmth of his gaze as he moved to set up the game. As he lined up the balls, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement.

This was an opportunity to see a different side of him, to explore the uncharted territory that lay between you. “Let’s see if you have any hidden talents,” he teased, a playful spark in his eyes a contrast to his usual dull and bored gaze.

You watched him as he lined up the balls, his movements so fluid and confident. There was no turning back now. The tension in the room seemed to thicken with every second as he handed you the cue stick, his fingers brushing against yours for a moment, sending a spark of electricity through your skin.

“Stand here,” he instructed, guiding you to the side of the table. “Grip the cue like this.” You tried to follow his directions, but your hands were unsteady, and your mind was racing too fast to fully focus on what he was saying. The room felt smaller, the air heavy and warm.

You could feel his presence behind you, the soft hum of his voice brushing against your ears as he explained the game. You attempted to hit the ball, but it only wobbled awkwardly across the table. Heat rose to your cheeks as you let out a nervous laugh, glancing at him sheepishly.

“I told you I wasn’t any good at this.” Alhaitham didn’t laugh. Instead, he stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours in a way that made your breath catch. “It’s alright,” he murmured, his voice lower now, almost a whisper.

He walks towards you but pauses. "Can I show you how to postion yourself?” His words were simple but they made your heartbeat faster. With just a simple nod of your head, Alhaitham slid behind you, you felt the warmth of his body pressed against yours— his chest pressed against your back as his hand reaches for yours that held the cue.

Your heart pounding in your chest as your hands turned clammy, trembling slightly under the weight of his. His large hand enveloped yours on the cue, steadying it. Your legs felt weak beneath you, and the strong scent of him washed over you like a wave, almost intoxicating. His chest pressed against your back—much closer than necessary—much closer than needed and the warmth of his breath ghosted across the nape of your neck, sending a cascade of goosebumps down your spine.

His grip tightened around your hand, guiding the cue, while his other hand held yours at the end of it. He bent forward, pressing his body against yours even more as he aligned you with the ball, leaving no space between the two of you. Your eyes widened, the sudden realization hitting you that you were completely caged beneath him, his strength and presence overwhelming.

Your mind raced, thoughts spinning out of control, each one more dangerous than the last. You were dangerously close to your professor, in a position you shouldn't even be in, it felt very intimate.

You had to leave before you overthought things, before you said or did something you'd regret.

“P-Pr-professor, it’s getting late,” you stammered nervously, trying to find your voice, but it came out as little more than a squeak. Instead of releasing you, his grip on your hands tightened, keeping you firmly in place as he aimed the cue at the ball.

“Oh?” he murmured, his voice deep and unsettlingly calm. He leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear as he added, “Late, you say?”

Before you could respond, he cut you off with a chilling whisper.

“Are you getting late to go record yourself?”

Your heart stuttered, skipping a beat as your body went numb. A cold shiver ran down your spine. “W-what?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, as panic surged through you. He smirked, the curve of his lips brushing your ear as he readied your hands and his to hit the ball.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” His voice was smooth, teasing. “Maybe I should be clearer. Are you getting late to go record yourself... and play with your cunt while thinking about your professor?” Your breath caught in your throat, a gasp stuck in your chest at the revelation of his words and the use of such a profanity coming out of his mouth.

As if on cue, he suddenly hit the ball, the clinking sound of the collision echoing in the tense silence. You stood there, frozen, pale as a ghost, your mind struggling to process what he had just said.

“H-how?” you whispered, your voice weak, barely holding on. “I’ve known you as Ms. Bunny for a while now. Three months, to be exact.” His voice was low, almost conversational, as if he were discussing something mundane. “I was never into things like cam girls, but you... you caught my eye. And as if fate threw the ball into my court, you walked right into my hands. My perfect little bunny.” Your breath hitched, your grip loosening on the cue as it clattered softly against the table.

His hands slid slowly, deliberately down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips, sending another wave of shivers through you. His lips hovered near the nape of your neck, so close you could feel the warmth of his breath, as if he were on the verge of kissing you. And in that moment, everything in you screamed to run, but you couldn’t move—trapped beneath him, caged by his words and touch. You were like a bunny caught in a wolf’s den—small, trembling, and helpless, every instinct telling you to flee, but your body refused to respond.

Your pulse thudded in your ears, drowning out everything else as your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps. His presence towered over you, predatory, his touch both dangerous and deliberate, pinning you in place as if he could snap you up in an instant.

The air around you thickened, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in. His breath on your neck, hot and teasing, sent another shiver coursing through you. You felt exposed, vulnerable, as though you were laid bare in front of him, no escape in sight.

His every movement was controlled, his hands firm and sure, while you were frozen, like prey paralyzed under the hunter's gaze, knowing you were outmatched yet powerless to resist. You felt his hands tighten around your waist as he suddenly turned you to face him, the movement both swift and controlled.

Your heart pounded violently, and before you could catch your breath, his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, pressing gently. His gaze locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, as if he could see through every defense you tried to put up.

"You're going to report me to the college ?" your voice trembling as tears threatening to spill from your eyes as your whole life flashed before your eyes—ruined.

“Report you?” he murmured, voice smooth like velvet, but the underlying tone was sharp, dangerously confident. “Why would I do that to my favorite student… and cam girl?” His thumb pressed a little harder against your lip, teasing, his eyes dragging slowly over your face as if savoring your reaction.

You were trembling, every inch of you on high alert, but then his next words slipped past his lips, low and intimate, sending a wave of heat straight to your core.

“You’re too valuable to me in both of your roles,” he whispered, leaning closer, his breath grazing your skin. “But I wonder…” He paused, his thumb pulling at your lip ever so slightly.

“Do you tremble like this when you’re thinking of me late at night?” Your thighs squeezed together involuntarily, the tension overwhelming, a response you couldn’t hide from him.

He smirked, clearly aware of the effect he had on you, his gaze never leaving yours as he leaned in closer, his presence suffocating in its intensity. Your stomach dropped, your entire body flushing with heat as you remembered last night—your body tangled in sheets, your lips parting with a moan as you fantasized about him.

You had no idea he was watching, no idea that he was aware of how deeply you wanted him. His eyes darkened with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.Your mind raced, a whirlwind of shock and confusion.

You felt exposed, vulnerable, as heat rushed to your cheeks. His gaze burned into yours, every word he said weaving a thread of tension that seemed to wrap tighter and tighter around the two of you.

“Every moan, every sigh,” he whispered, his voice dark and dangerously soft, “it intrigued me. You’ve always had a way of captivating an audience, captivating me.” The air between you crackled, the heat of his body so close to yours igniting every nerve.

His pale turquoise eyes, ringed with that striking shade of orange, roamed your face, lingering on your parted lips, on the flush of your cheeks, and the way your breath hitched in anticipation. His thumb traced your jawline slowly, sending shivers down your spine.

You couldn’t move, couldn’t think—only feel the magnetic pull of his presence, the intensity of his gaze. “I know you desire me as much as I desire you,” he stated, voice deep and sure, his eyes drinking in your reaction, locking onto the tears that glossed your wide eyes.

His words sent a surge of heat rushing through you, and before you could deny or confirm, his hand was already moving, trailing down your neck, fingers grazing the edge of your shirt. The tension built with each passing second, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it any longer, he leaned in.

His lips hovered over yours, his breath warm and teasing against your mouth. You felt every inch of him so close, his chest brushing against yours, the heat of his body seeping into yours. He hesitated for only a heartbeat, giving you a moment to pull away if you wanted to—but you didn’t.

Instead, you found yourself leaning in, closing the gap as if drawn by an invisible force. And then his lips captured yours. The kiss was slow at first, his mouth moving gently against yours, testing, teasing. But the moment you responded, his grip on you tightened, pulling you closer, the kiss deepening with an intensity that sent your heart racing.

His other hand slipped to the small of your back, fingers pressing against the fabric of your shirt, urging you closer to him. As Alhaitham’s lips moved against yours, the kiss deepened. His tongue slid between your parted lips, meeting yours in a slow, sensual dance. The heat of the moment overwhelmed you, and you responded instinctively, your tongue tangling with his in a battle for dominance that made your head spin.

Every touch of his tongue against yours sent shockwaves through your body, a fire igniting in your core as you pressed closer to him, seeking more. His large hands roamed over your back, one sliding up to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as he kissed you deeper, almost possessively. His other hand trailed down your side, fingers grazing the edge of your exposed skin, sending goosebumps across your body.

The kiss was intoxicating, and every movement of his tongue against yours sent a surge of electricity through your veins. His lips parted slightly, and his tongue dipped back into your mouth, exploring you with an almost deliberate slowness that made you weak in the knees. The warmth of his breath mixed with yours, the taste of him lingering on your lips as he pressed his body closer, trapping you against him.

You moaned softly into the kiss, the sound swallowed by his mouth as his hand moved to your waist, pulling you against him in a way that made your heart race even faster. His grip tightened as his tongue teased yours, the sensation of it sliding against yours both tender and demanding, filling you with a longing you hadn’t felt before.

You felt utterly consumed by him, the tension between you unbearable as his mouth worked expertly against yours, stealing every thought from your mind. Just as he reached to unhook your bra, his lips still pressed against yours, there was a knock at the door. Alhaitham paused for a moment, but instead of pulling away, he groaned lowly against your lips, his tongue still teasing yours as he kept you trapped in the kiss.

His hand, which had been ready to undo the clasp of your bra, stayed firmly in place as he pulled you even closer, as if refusing to be interrupted. He clearly wasn’t finished yet. You whimpered softly, the knock on the door barely registering as your senses were overwhelmed by his touch and the intoxicating way his tongue moved against yours.

Another knock echoed through the room, louder this time. Alhaitham swore under his breath, finally pulling away from the kiss but not letting go of you. His forehead rested against yours for a brief moment, his warm breath mingling with yours. "I locked the door," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, as if to reassure you that no one could just walk in.

But the knock persisted. With a frustrated sigh, Alhaitham glanced toward the door, clearly annoyed at the interruption. His eyes, now darker with unspoken desire, flickered back to you. "Get under the desk," he ordered softly, his voice carrying a weight that left no room for argument.

"You’re not exactly in a presentable state." You scrambled to obey, quickly adjusting your half-open shirt and ducking under his desk. The tension in the room was palpable, your heart still pounding from the kiss as you crouched down, hidden from view.

Alhaitham straightened himself up, his movements smooth and composed, though you could tell he was still agitated. His fingers combed through his hair, and with a deep breath, he crossed the room, unlocking the door and opening it to reveal Kaveh on the other side.

Kaveh strolled in uninvited, his presence filling the room like an obnoxious breeze. His platinum blonde hair caught the dim light of the office, gleaming as he leaned against the doorframe. He wore sleek trousers, the fabric light and fine, like silk. They crinkled softly as he shifted his weight, standing with one hip cocked. His shirt, loosely untucked, made him look both casual and out of place at this hour. The texture of his trousers was smooth, almost shimmering with the light sheen that played across the fabric, emphasizing the ease with which Kaveh carried himself.

Alhaitham’s jaw tightened in irritation. Without missing a beat, he subtly moved back toward his desk, his eyes glancing down at you hidden beneath it. Your heart raced, pulse quickening as you pressed yourself further into the shadows.

"Really, Kaveh," Alhaitham said, his voice carefully composed though laced with clear annoyance, "was there something urgent you needed?" He casually lowered himself into the desk chair, positioning himself in front of you.

As he did, his thighs brushed against either side of your face, enclosing your head between them. Your breath hitched, eyes widening in shock at how intimately close you suddenly were. The warmth of his body radiated against you, and the scent of him was stronger here, enveloping you entirely.

Your cheeks flushed with heat, your pulse racing at this unexpected situation, and you had to fight to stay still, afraid even the slightest movement would give you away. From above, Alhaitham sat calmly, looking at Kaveh with practiced nonchalance, though the tension in the room was palpable.

He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back slightly in his chair, though the motion pressed the hard surface of his leg brushing against your chest as you tucked yourself away.

The space was small, the cool wood above your head a stark contrast to the warmth radiating from Alhaitham’s body. Your breath was shallow, heart pounding as you tried to settle into the cramped space. You could feel the steady rhythm of his pulse under your palm where it rested on his thigh, the taut muscle flexing as he moved to close the gap between his chair and the desk.

His thigh muscles were hard under your hand, and the scent of his clean, crisp cologne was intoxicating in such proximity. The subtle shift of fabric against your cheek made you hyperaware of how close you were to his crotch. “Alhaitham,” Kaveh huffed our, annoyed, “What’re you still doing here? I figured you’d have packed up like everyone else. Or are you hoping to sulk in solitude all night?” Alhaitham’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I prefer quiet. Unlike some people.”

Kaveh’s gaze darted to the pool table shoved against the far wall. “Speaking of quiet, how’s your student? I haven’t seen her around. Skipping out on you already?” He smirked, and Alhaitham’s jaw tightened. “She’s too busy working on her ‘mediocre distractions’ to bother showing up,” Alhaitham quipped dryly, a hint of annoyance bleeding into his voice.

He clearly didn’t like being put on the spot, and the casual insult about you grated on your nerves. Without thinking, you bit down on his thigh—just enough for him to feel it, just enough to remind him you were still there, listening.

He jolted, his leg twitching under your bite, a low gasp escaping his lips. The sudden rush of sensation caused his composure to falter, his fingers gripping the edge of the desk briefly. His sharp intake of breath made his pulse quicken, and you felt it through the taut muscles under your fingers.

Kaveh’s eyes narrowed, catching the subtle shift in Alhaitham’s expression. “Did you just hurt yourself sitting down? You’re not that old, are you?” Kaveh teased, eyes flicking from Alhaitham’s tightly clenched hands back to his face. “I... hit my knee,” Alhaitham muttered, the words forced, as if he were struggling to keep his voice steady.

“Waiting for you to leave is apparently hazardous to my health.” Kaveh scoffed, but his eyes twinkled with amusement. “It’s amazing you even have any patience left. Though, you really shouldn’t insult your assistant. From what I’ve seen, she does all the heavy lifting around here.” A wave of irritation surged through you, but your biting had only seemed to amuse Alhaitham more.

His thigh tensed beneath you as his fingers briefly brushed against the underside of the desk, almost as if warning you to stop. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, torn between the embarrassment of the situation and the thrill of knowing that Kaveh was completely oblivious to your presence, hidden between Alhaitham’s legs.

“You’ve got no room to talk, Kaveh,” Alhaitham retorted coolly, trying to regain his composure despite the lingering sensation of your teeth on his skin.

“How are your selfcations going? Found anyone to tolerate you for longer than five minutes yet?” Kaveh’s face twisted into a mock pout. “I won’t grace you with my presence for a week, so enjoy the silence. And don’t forget to water my plants while I’m away.”

As Kaveh turned to leave, his eyes lingering on the desk for a moment longer than comfortable, Alhaitham shifted in his seat, pulling his chair closer to ensure you stayed completely hidden. You were tucked tightly between his thighs, your lips so close to the heat of his growing arousal that you could almost feel it through his trousers. The tension was unbearable, your heart thundering in your chest as you struggled to stay still, your mind racing with the illicit nature of it all.

Kaveh finally let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I’ll leave you to your brooding. But don’t think you can insult your student without consequences. She’s probably the best thing you’ve got going for you.”

With a wave, Kaveh sauntered out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Alhaitham exhaled heavily, his body relaxing only slightly. His hand fell to your head, fingers threading into your hair, gripping just tight enough to send a shiver down your spine. You looked up at him from your position between his thighs, your face flushed, breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

When he glanced down at you, there was no mischievous glint in his eyes—only something darker, more consuming. His gaze roamed over your swollen lips, the rise and fall of your chest, and the way you still knelt between his legs, completely at his mercy.

“And you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shudder through you, “biting my thigh like that—what were you thinking?”

The look in his eyes was intense, magnetic, pulling you in. His fingers tightened their hold on your hair, tugging lightly as he leaned forward just enough that your breaths mingled, warm and shallow.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, “Maybe I wanted to see how you’d react.”

His lips quirked up, not in amusement, but in acknowledgment of the challenge. “Dangerous game, little one,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against the corner of your lip, smearing the remnants of your earlier kiss. 

Alhaitham leaned back in his chair, the creak of the leather barely audible over the heavy, charged silence in the room. The air felt thick with tension, your face now so close to his growing arousal that your breaths mingled with the scent of him. The heat radiating from him made your pulse quicken, and when his hand moved to his belt, your heart stuttered in your chest.

His hand was steady, the fingers long, elegant but strong, with a certain grace as they worked the leather through the buckle. The light from the overhead lamp cast shadows across the veins on the back of his hand, tracing the subtle ridges of muscle. The buckle clicked open, and his fingers deftly undid the button of his trousers, the fabric parting to reveal the dark material of his boxers beneath.

He was thick and large underneath the thin material, your eyes trailing from the tip and towards the end— where his heavy balls with with cum laid beneath the thin material that covered it.

He paused, his eyes dropping to meet yours. There was no hesitation in his movements, but his gaze—intense and searching—lingered on you, as though he were gauging your reaction, watching for the smallest flicker of apprehension. But your eyes, heavy with arousal, met his in silent understanding, the tension crackling between you like a live wire.

His voice was deep, low as he commanded, “Just your mouth.”

A spark of nervousness shot through you at his words, and before you could stop yourself, you whispered, “What if someone walks in?”

A quiet, almost condescending chuckle slipped from his lips as his fingers slid into your hair, gripping just firmly enough to send a shiver down your spine. “You seem to thrive on the thrill of it,” he murmured, his tone as sharp as ever but layered with something darker, something that made the ache between your thighs all the more unbearable. “Now use that smart mouth of yours efficiently.”

His words settled over you like a challenge, and despite the flush of nerves still heating your skin, you leaned forward. Your lips ghosted over the soft fabric of his boxers, a tentative kiss pressed to the tip of the hard cock beneath. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tensed under your touch, but his grip on your hair remained steady, guiding, controlling. His breath hitched as your lips moved lower, your mouth parting to mouth along the outline of him, and you could feel the power shift in the way his fingers flexed in your hair.

This was different from anything you'd ever experienced before. The intimacy of it, the raw tension—it was overwhelming, and yet, you found yourself craving more, your pulse pounding in your ears as the space between you dissolved into something electric.

The fabric of his boxers was soft against your lips, but beneath it, the hardness of his cock was undeniable, pulsing with heat. You could feel his body tensing with every kiss and suckle you placed along his length, teasing, testing. The scent of him filled your senses, heady and intoxicating, and the weight of his hand in your hair kept you grounded, pulling you deeper into the moment.

Alhaitham’s breath came out in a slow, controlled exhale, but there was a tension to it, a subtle hitch that betrayed his usually calm exterior. He leaned back further in his chair, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he watched you. His grip tightened, fingers threading deeper into your hair, guiding you, though not forcefully. It was a subtle command, the unspoken desire behind it clear as his thumb grazed along your scalp, sending shivers down your spine.

You pressed another kiss to his boxers, this time bolder, your lips lingering a little longer. The heat radiating from his skin was almost overwhelming, and you could feel your own pulse quicken in response. Your heart raced, your body humming with a mix of nerves and anticipation as you leaned closer, letting your breath warm the space just above the waistband.

"Good," he murmured, voice low, vibrating with something restrained. His other hand had moved to his side, resting casually on the arm of his chair, but his fingers twitched, betraying the tension running through him. "But don’t be afraid to commit. I didn’t peg you for someone who holds back."

Your breath hitched at the sharp edge to his words, his usual intelligence now infused with a sensuality that made your knees feel weak. You pressed your lips more firmly against him, the friction of the fabric between you and his skin making your core throb with desire.

Without a word, you let your hands move to his thighs, your fingers sinking into the fabric of his trousers. The texture was smooth, fine, yet beneath it, the hard muscle of his legs tensed under your touch. You couldn’t help but bite your lip, the sensation of his powerful body so close making your pulse race, your thoughts scatter.

Your lips brushed lower, tracing the waistband with delicate, feather-light kisses. You could feel him shift, his grip in your hair tightening slightly, his breath coming faster, though he tried to keep it controlled. The anticipation in the air between you both was almost suffocating.

You let your teeth sink into the waistband tugging at it lightly as Alhaitham lifts his hips to help you remove the material. His hard cock gently tapped agaisnt your cheek when you had pulled the boxers down, precum streaked your rose tinted cheek. 

Your eyes widen at the site of his cock that was mere inches away from your drooling mouth. The vein around his shaft throbbed in arousal, the pearly white liquid of his precum threatened to spill as his heavy balls pulsed with the need for your attention.

"Just like that," he whispered, the approval in his voice sending a wave of heat through you. His thumb grazed the nape of your neck, gentle but insistent, a subtle reminder of who held control, even as he unraveled beneath your touch.

You couldn’t believe this was happening, couldn’t believe that the man you had admired from a distance, the professor who had always seemed so untouchable, was now leaning back in his chair with his belt undone, his hand in your hair, letting you unravel him piece by piece. His dark eyes bore into yours, full of something that made your stomach flutter and your breath catch in your throat.

"Now," he said softly, his voice a low growl that sent shivers through your entire body, "let's see if you can use that mouth for more than just smart remarks." His fingers flexed in your hair, his gaze never leaving yours as he waited, tension coiling in the air between you both, thick and electric.

Your lips part, breath catching in your throat as you first press a gentle kiss on the rosy tip of his cock, your tongue peeked out from between your lips as you gave his slit a gentle kick, Alhaitham hissed at this fingers tighten around your hair, your eyes stare up at him with innocent as he groans.

You now decide to let your mouth to wrap around the mushroom tip, your tongue swirled around it, tasting the precum.

“fuck, your mouth’s so warm, bunny.” groaning so lowly, Alhaitham leaned his head back on the leather chair. caressing the top of your hair, strands in between his long digits, heavy breathing — and quiet whimpering. 

You decide to be bolder as you let the whole length slide into your mouth and down your throat, your eyes briming with tears as his cock twitched in your mouth as you tightened your lips around his length and pulled back up, licking the beautiful rosy tip, kitty-like, right on the line of it while you looked at his teal-eyes from under his desk. 

 You carefully moved to not let any of your saliva nor his pre-and-soon-cum spill on his pants as you take him once again, the weight of him pressing heavily against your cheek. He’s thicker, heavier than you imagined—far more than any of the toys you’ve ever used—and the heat radiating off him is intoxicating. For a brief moment, uncertainty flickers through you, but when his fingers tighten in your hair, drawing your attention back to him, that hesitation melts away.

The warmth of his skin seeps into your mouth as you stretch your lips around him, taking in as much as you can. The reality of him, so solid and present, fills your senses, overwhelming in the best way. He twitches against your tongue as you move, and the way he lets out a low, satisfied sigh makes something stir deep inside you. “That’s it… just like that,” he murmurs, voice thick and breathless, his fingers flexing in your hair as he gently guides your movements.

You can feel the tension in his thighs as you press your nails into them, steadying yourself, but also earning a sharp intake of breath from him. The sensation of your teeth lightly grazing him causes him to tense, his hips jerking slightly in response. You try to take him deeper, but there’s no way to fit all of him—he’s too much and he didn't want you to use your hands on his cock— just your mouth, you work him slowly, savoring every reaction he gives you, every rough inhale as his hips move in rhythm with your mouth.

His voice is a low rumble above you, his words like velvet. “You’re even better than I imagined…” he mutters, his gaze fixed on you, dark and intense. His eyes drink in every detail—your lips stretched around his cock, the soft flush spreading across your cheeks. “All those nights watching… and now I have you here, real, and mine.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, heat pooling in your stomach as you moan softly against him, the vibration pulling another low groan from his chest. His reaction is instant—his hips pressing forward as he sinks deeper into your mouth, his fingers tightening their hold. You can feel him twitching against your tongue, responding to every little movement, every swirl of your lips.

Then, without warning, you feel something press firmly against the apex of your thighs—on your clothed cunt. The tip of his shoe, pressing into you through your clothes, the pressure sudden and overwhelming. Your eyes widen, a gasp caught in your throat as pleasure jolts through you. The heat between your legs intensifies, and you instinctively grind against the pressure, trying to relieve the ache building inside you. It’s too much, too soon, and your mind spins from the intensity of it all.

His voice drips with control, low and commanding as his hips begin to move faster. “You like that, don’t you? The thrill of being caught… the thrill of being under me.” He’s watching you closely, every flicker of your eyes, every twitch of your body, his own arousal spiking at the sight of you on your knees, lips wrapped around him. 

Suddenly, his cock is deeply down your throat as you gag repeatedly. his fingers wrapped around your hair, holding it still while thrusting his hips up and beneath him, the ultimate choking mess, gasping for air, mumbling all sorts of pleading languidly — on the verge of tears and apparent faintness from the feeling of Alhaitham in your throat and the stimulation on your cunt.

 "keep still and let me cum in your mouth pretty mouth, my sweet bunny." Alhaitham grunted, his eyes taking in the site of you. 

Sweat beading up up along your forehead, your mouth shoved with his cock, your eyes blurring with tears, shirt hanging on your body exposing your bra, your fingers digging into his thighs and the site of you rutting your cunt against the sole of his shoe is what tips Alhaitham to the edge. 

His release is sudden, hot and thick, spilling into your mouth. You struggle to swallow it all, the salty taste flooding your senses, but you do your best, even as it becomes difficult to breathe. You can feel him throbbing in your mouth, your lips still wrapped around him as his hips stutter to a stop, his chest heaving above you. His cock still in your mouth as it slowly softens but not completely. Your tongue desperately lapping up at his tip and he hisses from the overstimulation.

Alhaitham looked down to stare at your disheveled self, reddish swollen lips, doe eyes, watery eyelashes and finally letting you breath, patting your head. a string of saliva — and semen — connecting your lips to his tip, as you still rutted agaisnt his shoe, your arousal evident as it slowly leaked from beneath your skirt and glistened alongside your thigh. 

When he finally pulls away, your mouth feels empty, your lips swollen and wet. You’re dazed, your heart still racing from the intensity of it all. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip, tracing the wetness there, his gaze dark and heavy as he takes in the sight of you—your face flushed, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath.

“You did well,” he murmurs, his voice soft but full of satisfaction. The praise going straight to your cunt. 

 A small smirk plays at the corner of his mouth. “Better than I could have imagined. I’ve waited for this… and it was worth every second.”

As you catch your breath, his thumb lingers against your lip, pressing down gently as if to remind you of what just happened. You’re still trembling slightly, your legs weak beneath you, your body still buzzing with a mix of lingering pleasure and adrenaline. His gaze doesn’t leave yours, and when his hand falls from your lips, it moves to your hair, fingers threading through it, pulling you just a bit closer.

His leg, still pressed firmly against your sensitive core, shifts, sending another wave of heat rushing through you. But before you can fully register it, his hands slide down to your waist, gripping you tightly and pulling you up from your knees. Your body moves as if on instinct, and suddenly, you're on his lap, straddling him, your thighs bracketing his hips as he settles you against him as you felt his cock agaisnt your clothed pussy. 

The world around you feels like it’s spinning—his hands are warm and strong as they hold you, his touch both commanding and careful, guiding your every movement. Your breath hitches as you feel the firmness of his chest against yours, his shirt slightly rumpled from how hurried everything had been. His belt is still undone, pants half-open, and the closeness of your bodies ignites something deeper within you. The friction of his cock brushing against your clothed mound as he adjusts you sends sparks up your spine, causing you to let out a soft, involuntary gasp.

His hands splay across your lower back, holding you flush against him, and the warmth of his body sears through the thin layers of fabric between you. His gaze never leaves yours—those sharp, intelligent eyes darkened by desire, searching your face, watching your every reaction. His lips quirk slightly, the hint of a smirk on his face, but there’s something else in his expression now—something raw, almost hungry.

You can feel his breath on your lips, warm and teasing, as he leans in closer, his fingers trailing up your spine, settling just between your shoulder blades. His mouth hovers near yours, but he doesn’t kiss you—not yet. He’s waiting, drawing out the moment, letting the tension coil tighter between you. Your heart pounds in your chest, every beat echoing in your ears as the heat between your legs grows, your body responding to his closeness, his touch.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. His eyes flick down to your slightly parted lips, swollen from the earlier kiss, then back up to meet yours. “I knew you’d feel like this… but having you here, in my lap, like this… it’s better than anything I could have imagined.”

His words send a rush of warmth through your body, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. You’re acutely aware of the way his leg presses against you, the friction building with every slight shift of your hips. His hands, firm and confident, guide your movements as he leans back in his chair, settling you more comfortably against him. The pressure between your legs is almost unbearable now, and the way his body responds to yours—his growing arousal pressed against you—only heightens the sensation.

As your hips move slightly, the friction intensifies, and a soft moan escapes your lips before you can stop it. His gaze sharpens, his fingers tightening their grip on your waist as his cock presses up against you, sending another pulse of heat through your core. His smirk grows, eyes gleaming with that knowing look as his fingers trace slow, deliberate patterns along your back.

“You like that?” His voice is a soft tease, laced with amusement, but also something deeper, more commanding. “The way I touch you… the way your body reacts.” His lips brush against your ear, the heat of his breath sending chills across your skin. “You’ve wanted this for a while, haven’t you? To be here, with me.”

His words stir something within you, a mix of excitement and vulnerability. Your body answers before your mind does—your hips rolling instinctively against him, chasing that friction, that warmth. His hands guide you, controlling the pace, slow but deliberate, teasing you, making you want more.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a near whisper. His eyes flick down to your lips once more before he closes the distance, finally pressing his mouth to yours in a kiss that’s slow and deep. The kiss feels different this time—more deliberate, more consuming. His lips move against yours with a steady, confident rhythm, and you melt into him, letting the kiss drown out everything else.

The room around you seems to fade away—there’s only him, the heat of his body, the way his lips claim yours, and the delicious pressure of his cock gainst your most sensitive spot. Every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of him, the scent of him, the sound of his breath mingling with yours.

When he finally pulls back, his thumb brushes gently across your bottom lip, swollen and slick from the kiss. 

 The silence in the room was thick, a comfortable intimacy hanging in the air between you, making every heartbeat feel amplified. 

As you looked into his captivating light turquoise eyes, you didn't think before you let the words slip past your lips.

“Would you like to watch me stream in person?” 

[munsonsmixtapes]

Take Care of Me

Eddie Munson x inexperienced!fem!reader

summary: Eddie decides to tease you in the bedroom when he knows that you're needy. Little does he know that you also have a few tricks up your sleeve.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v), unprotected sex (wrap it before your smack it) masturbation (both f and m), touch denial, voyeurism, oral (m receiving) bondage, dom!eddie, dom!reader

part one part two part four

You had been extra needy ever since you and Eddie started sleeping together. You had been in between your sheets almost every night, but then work got busy for him and he was working late so it had been hard for him to come see you. So you had gone almost a week without him and you were starting to get desperate.

You had been using your vibrator like it was your job and had thought about sleeping with other people, but it wouldn't have been the same. Eddie had made it clear that you weren't exclusive and that you could do whatever you wanted, but it was hard to sleep with anyone else when he was just so good at what he did no matter what it was.

So, everything just came to a complete stop as you had waited for him to become available, staring at your phone screen to see if you had even gotta a text. When you didn't, you'd just lie in bed, pleasuring yourself, pretending that your fingers were Eddie's even though they didn't compare. you could get yourself there, but nearly as quick and it wasn't as fun doing it alone.

So one night you just texted him, getting so desperate that you felt like you were going to explode. You needed him and you needed him right then.

I need you so bad daddy

The message was sent in an instant as your need outweighed your usual nerves when it came to talking to Eddie. And he had replied immediately, your face lighting up when you saw he had responded, but your smile quickly faded once you saw what he had replied.

How bad?

He was such an ass sometimes, but you would have been lying if you said you didn't like it. All of the teasing was so exciting and new since Steve always gave you whatever you asked for on a silver platter.

Do you want me to send you a picture of how wet I am?

You were now growing frustrated with him, always seeming to walk right into his trap.

wow you really are needy

another text

keep your pants on alright I'm on my way

He seemed to have shown up at your door in record seep, knocking on it feverishly and you ripped it open, pulling him inside before pushing him onto the bed before crawling on top of him. Shit, you really were needy.

"Uh uh uh," he tisked as he held you at arms length, seeing your eyes getting hungry with desire. If he was going to fuck you, he was at least going to have some fun first.

“Gotta beg for me, baby,” he told you, a smirk playing on his pink lips.

“Beg?” You scoffed, climbing off of him, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m not begging.”

“Then I guess I’m just gonna have to show you what you’re missing.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of fuzzy handcuffs you had remembered seeing in his room. He unlocked them with his key then snapped, pointing to the bed.

“Bed,” he demanded and you felt a thrill rush through you as you followed his command. You lied flat on the mattress and Eddie moved to straddle your waist so you couldn’t go anywhere and raised your wrists above your head, pinning them to your headboard before locking them in place so you couldn’t go anywhere.

“You’re going to watch me get myself off and I want to hear you beg for me like your life depends on it, understand?”

“Yes,” you nodded, but Eddie didn’t seem to like your response.

“Yes what?” You immediately realized your mistake and knew you needed to fix it.

“Yes daddy,” you corrected and Eddie smiled down at you, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek.

“Good girl,” he responded before pressing his lips to yours. He then got off of you before moving to stand in front of your dresser that was right across from your bedside table so that you could see him perfectly.

He slowly removed all of his clothes as if he was performing a strip tease and you already found yourself to be filled with nothing but want. Knowing that you couldn’t have him drove you crazy, but you knew that the end would be so worth it.

His boxers were the last to go and he let them fall to the floor on top of his other clothes that were in a messy pile. As he reached for the lube bottle that was at the edge of the bed, you took your time to let your eyes rake over his body, still wondering how you were always able to get someone as hot as him into bed with you.

He sat on the edge of the bed so he was out of view and brought his lubed up hand up to his cock, giving it a few slow pumps, making sure to let out some dramatic moans. He chuckled to himself as he heard you attempt to get free.

“Easy there, baby. I’m just getting started.” His movements picked up as he pumped even faster, real moans falling from his mouth this time. His head fell back and you could see his eyes shutting tight as he got himself off.

“Eddie please,” you whined, wanting to finish the job for him, but it proved to be not that easy. He just shushed you then had the audacity to stand up from the bed, placing himself in your desk chair, wanting to give you a full view of what you were missing.

“Gonna need a little more from you. I don’t think you want it enough.”

“I want it. Want you so bad, daddy.”

“Just a little more,” he responded as he gave himself a few more quick pumps, already feeling like he was reaching his peak.

“Wanna suck you off so bad. My mouth is watering just look at you.” And it was. You could feel saliva pooling in your mouth at the thought of finally tasting him for yourself.

And watching him get himself off seemed to make you want him even more. He was so hot sitting there jacking off, his loud moans filling your ears. The whole thing was definitely going to be living in your head rent free.

That seemed to do the trick because Eddie had finally reached his orgasm. You felt yourself getting wet at the sight and you were almost satisfied just watching him, but your need to have your way with him outweighed it.

His cock leaked with cum and you were now drooling, thinking about licking up every last drop and swallowing it down like you had been wanting to for so long.

“Alright,” he sighed once he had come down from his orgasm. He then grabbed the key from his pants and unlocked the handcuffs, freeing you.

He took you by the hands then pulled you over to the edge of the bed, sitting down on it while he forced you down onto your knees, loving how your eyes were filling with lust.

“Since you were so good. I think you deserve a treat.” He spread his legs wide and you couldn’t help but let your gaze move to his rock hard cock, cum smeared all over the head. “Go ahead,” he nodded his head towards it. You earned.”

You slowly moved towards him as he leaned back onto the bed with the palms of his hands, looking down at you knowingly. You had only given a few blowjobs in your lifetime so you weren’t exactly sure what to do, but you hoped that Eddie would have helped you if you did it wrong.

You wrapped one of your hands around the base and slowly inched the head towards your mouth, slipping it inside and letting your tongue swirl around it to get used to it. Eddie let out a gasp which was followed by another as you began to suck hard, trying to focus on what you remembered from doing it to other guys.

“Jesus, relax,” Eddie laughed. “God, you really did want me, huh?”

All you could do was nod as you licked and sucked on the head, finally getting comfortable and confident in what you were doing. And Eddie seemed to enjoy us as another moan fell from his lips. You glanced up at him and his eyes you were closed as he hummed in pleasure.

“Think you can take more of me?” He asked. “Bet it could all fit if you tried.” You weren’t sure, but you thought you could at least trying.

So you took a little more of him inch by inch as you continued to lick and suck on his cock, wanting to make sure that none of it went untouched by your tongue.

“That’s a good girl,” he cooed. “Just like that. Yep, just a little more.” You hadn’t even realized that you had gotten it all in until you were practically gagging on it, your nose practically brushing the hair right above the base.

You continued to lick and suck on him as he as he grabbed onto the back of your head, pushing his cock in and out of your mouth as you tried to keep up with him. He was close. You could see it as he eyes were practically rolling into the back of his head.

“So this is the only way to keep you quiet, hm?” He asked. “Gotta fuck your mouth like this so you’ll stop being such a whiny brat.” And soon after that, he moaned so loudly that you were sure that your neighbors could hear it as his cum leaked onto your tongue. You pulled him out of your mouth and looked up at him as you swallowed, the stuff feeling a bit weird as it went down.

Eddie collapsed onto the bed as he came down from his orgasm and you stood up, an idea suddenly coming to you.

You helped him sit up then grabbed onto he back of his head, forcing him to look you in the eye.

“Want a taste?” You asked as you raised your chin where there were still remnants of his cum still there. “C’mon, know you want to.”

You brought his face closer to yours and he stuck his tongue out, bringing it to your chin, giving it a few slow strokes which was unusual for him.

“Now c’mon, baby, you can do better than that. More enthusiasm.”

Eddie really liked seeing that side of you, how you were able to take charge so easily after the few times you’d slept together. Maybe the student really was becoming the master.

“See?” You asked as he got more rough licking your chin. “See how good your taste?”

And he had to agree. Completely unlike anything he had ever tasted before. But he was pretty sure that most of the good taste was just you.

He tongue moved up and tried to move into your mouth, but you pushed him back with a shake of your head.

“I think you deserve a taste of your own medicine,” you told him and his mouth fell open as he started to realize that he had created a monster.

You began to strip, slowly removing your clothes and touching yourself in the ways that you knew he loved to touch you.

You watched him slowly sit up as you unbuttoned your cardigan, revealing the lacy black bra underneath. The cardigan was tossed to the floor and you moved your hand up to your bra, removing both of the straps from your shoulders then reaching back to undo the clasp.

The bra fell to the floor and then you reached up and brought your thumb up to your nipple, moving it in a circular motion until it was hard, moaning dramatically just like Eddie did before moving onto the other one.

You had him right where you wanted him as you watched his mouth fall open, nothing but whines spilling from it. You then pulled down your skirt and let it pool at your ankles, leaving you in nothing but your thong.

Your fingers pressed against the middle of your tits then slowly moved down to your thong, putting a thumb in each of the bands and pulling down, your body now fully naked. Eddie went to stand up, but you just pushed him back down, your eyes darkening as you did so.

“Uh uh uh,” you shook your head. “Gotta watch the show first.”

Your fingers went straight for your cunt and it took everything in Eddie not to take you right there against the dresser. He watched your every move, your moans mixing together as you pumped your fingers in and out of you and he watched. God, what he would have given to have those be his fingers.

He could practically feel how wet you were and felt himself getting hard all over again. And once you reached your orgasm, your pulled your fingers from your cunt, licking them clean before moving towards Eddie.

You pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him, slowly sinking onto him as you began to ride him, finally taking the reins on being on top for once.

“Is this okay?” You asked and he nodded furiously. “Yep, I’m good.”’

“Me too. And I’m on birth control.”

He bucked against your hips as your pace picked up, loving how he looked underneath you as you pinned his wrists to the bed.

“Don’t I look better on top?” You asked. “Don’t you just love when I take control?”

“I do, I really do. Who knew you’d be the one who was dominant?”

Your pace picked up, but you could see that he was already spent, fighting to put in the work. You honestly never thought he’d be the one who couldn’t hold out. And that was fine. You just wanted to make sure that he was fully conscious and enthusiastic.

“Alright,” you sighed, climbing off of him. “Bed time.”

“No,” he whined, making grabby hands at you as you tossed his boxers at him.

“Baby, you’re slurring you told him. Now put on your boxers and I promise I’ll rock your world in the morning.”

“Deal,” he slurred and the two of you got into bed as you looked forward for what Eddie had in store next.

[luludeluluramblings]

Dick Grayson's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader

A/N: Why dialogue hard? Why so hard? Y'all I tried, once again. I saved Dick for last because I really really really did not want to screw up his character. I did end up adding a scene from Part Seven in here. Just to give it some pizzazz.

A/N: Part Eight is in the works, but it’s either gonna be massive or I’m going to have to divide it up. Also, people be posting so straight up fire in the Yandere Bat tags lately. Good stuff, I needed that.

Warnings: Yandere themes, physical affection.

Out of everyone, Dick was the most enthusiastic about Reader coming to Wayne manor, while also being the most melancholic. The tragedy of their arrival wasn't lost on him, despite the thrill he had over the thought of having another person to add to hi life. Already, the need and wanted to smoother them in comfort and care was there. But, the life experiences he had allowed him to realize it was probably best not to overwhelm them.

Therefore, it came out in short burst of staggering affection at times. But, only when he was visiting. (There was no denying the fact that he was extremely tempted to call them on the phone just to make sure they were settling in just fine. And, that he fought that temptation every single night.)

That didn't stop him from feeling some minor annoyance with Bruce for keeping the fact that they existed a secret. Dick had seen the affects of this life and even felt them, but to let the family nearly miss out on something so honeyed with normalcy was cruel. (It would have been preferred if they didn't have to lose their parents in order to join the rest of the family, but it was hard to think like with how busy his schedule was and soft they felt in his arms.)

Admittedly he may have latched on to them too hard in the beginning. They felt stiff the first time his arms wrapped around them. The guilt of it gurgled in his throat, which is why he cut it short and went about his business. But, he couldn't stop the urge to do so each time they crossed each other's paths in the manor halls.

And, much to his glee, they start to soften. Slowly, but surly, they start to cling to him a little longer when his arms wrap around them. They start to depend on him. For once the thought of someone so conventional depending on him as Dick rather than as Nightwing, because everyone seems to depend on him as Nightwing, doesn't fill him with anxiety. It makes his chest flutter in a different way. Not with anxious butterflies, but with a flicker of a warmth.

It's completely innocent, the way the craving starts. He has to talk himself out of rearranging his entire schedule to be around them. Especially after the kidnapping incident. But, the Rouge break out gives him plenty of work to distract himself, and more frequent chances to find them in the manor for a dose of his new source of comfort.

His feelings finally start to become clear when rather than holding him longer and tighter, they finally reach for him themselves.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

“And, how is my favorite person today?” Already Dick has his arms opened wide for you when you walk out of the kitchen. He always appears from the depths of the manor, before he wraps around you like a slow creeping vine blooming with all sorts of sentiments.

"Alfred was doing good last I saw." But, by now you've grown to appreciate the way the tendrils curl around your limbs and burrow themselves into you. A small grin forming on your face at the chance to finally have someone to talk to, even if he isn't consistent company.

"Alfred isn't my favorite person, and you know it." The banter between them enjoyable and the undertones of his words ignorable in your obliviousness. "But, seriously, how are you doing today? You look like you have something on your mind. If it is you can tell me, you know that right?" The concern pouring put of his lips, as his grip tightens.

He had seen you through the cameras and had overheard the longing phone calls. The fact that your birthday was coming up had crossed his mind, and the realization that this would be your first without your parents did register in his brain. (But, it would also be you first with them. With him.) Bringing it up to you seemed like a bad idea. But, he would still try to encourage you to spill your feelings to him.

"No, no. It's nothing I promise." Your reply was soft and dismissive. But, the dishonesty was noticeable in it still.

Dick's arms seemed to tighten around you as you spoke, as if he was trying to decode the root of your troubles from the way your heart was beating against his chest. Eventually, he does loosen his limbs around you.

As he looks down, you known and he knows you’re lying. For a moment you think he going to push. To try to choke the words out of your lungs with another tight squeeze. But, he doesn't. Instead he lets you breathe.

"Okay," is all he says.

No extra nor unnecessary words. No constant reassurance that he'll always be there for you. Just a single word and the room to breathe. Those other things have already been said. Multiple times, in fact.

It's this one instance where he lets you breath that somehow gives you lungs the air it needs to blurt out what's bothering you as he pulls away.

"I wanna go home." The words escape your lips when you finally exhale and reach for him. The words coarse. "I just really want to go home for a bit. I miss home. I miss my family. I just—“

Dick doesn't even let you get halfway before he's enveloping you again. A slight tremble in his hands as he sprouts around you once more.

This. This is what he's wanted. You coming to him with your raw feelings. And, he knows he's the first person you've said this to at all.

"How can I help you?" He asks instead of questioning the statement.

"Can you help me convince Bruce to let me go, please, Dick?” The tentative way you ask and look up at him has him caving immediately.

"Of course!" Perhaps it was a good thing you didn't grow up in Wayne manor. If Bruce hadn't spoiled you, he most definitely would have. "I'll bring it up to B as soon as he gets back."

"He's gone?" You hadn't been informed of him even leaving, but then again, you were hardly every informed about anything it seems.

"Yeah, work emergency. It wasn't a big deal, but he'll be back soon." Dick can sense the mild tone shift, but manages to shift it back to something more lighthearted. "I'll make sure to butter him up for you. I swear. Puppy-dog eyes and everything."

It works, because before he can even clutch you to his chest you already wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled yourself towards him. Just the way you hug him tells him how genuine this type of embrace is. This is how you hold people. And, now, this is how you hold him.

"Thank you, Dick. Thank you." Comes your muffled reply into his chest.

The way you nuzzle into him like that's where you belong, because that's where you do belong, and the way you say his name causes his heart to melt. And, his mind to slowly sinks into the puddle it became.

Dick could stay like this for hours, but you start to pull away after a solid minute.

"I should let you get going. I know you got a lot of stuff to do." Your words sound so hopeful and understanding as you him go. The way you look up at him like he is your hero just for this simple small thing is touching.

Inwardly, he curses. The criminals of Gotham. The criminals of Blüdhaven, the team, the family, his schedule. Everything. He curses it all for that moment, because he could be holding you to his chest longer and having you look up at him like that instead. But, he lets it pass. He manages to let it go just as you pull away.

"Yeah, I do. But, don't think I'm going to brush off helping my favorite person in the world." Plastering on a well practiced pretty smile as he speaks.

"So, that means you got somebody more important off world? I see how it is." You tease in return as you fall for the practiced charm.

"Maybe." Dick lets the banter easy his mind. In reality, even off this world, you're probably his favorite, still. It should scare him, but it doesn't. "I'll let you know how Bruce takes the request. But, I'm prepared to sneak you out of here if necessary."

"I'll get the spy music ready, just incase." Things are starting to look up, and it's nice to have someone in your corner in this massive estate.

"Mission Impossible theme?" His grin become less practiced at the thoughts of having an adventure with you.

"Nah, the Pink Panther one. Just for the shenanigans." Your own grin growing wider and wider.

"Now I want to sneak you out just for fun." And, he means it. Already mentally planning your trip back home with him escorting you. And, then you possibly coming and staying in Blüdhaven with him in his guest room. Just to get you out of the manor, of course. Clearly you need it.

He can't ignore the way his pocket keeps buzzing, though. Clearly the others are in the cave waiting for him. But, they can wait a bit longer, he thinks diving in for one last embrace.

As you wholeheartedly reciprocate, he can see one of the secret security camera out the corner of his eye and he can't stop the smug smile from forming on his face as his gives you one last squeeze in front of it.

With the way his phone stills, he can tell the rest of them saw. It's not his fault they're too scared of physical affection to actually hug you. But, it does give him a monopoly on it with you.

As he makes his way down to the Batcave there's a skip in his step and that smug smile is still on his face.

He makes sure to look at everyone's faces as he joins them. Soaking up their envy. All of that wasn't to make them jealous, but it's kind of nice to have.

"Was all that necessary, Grayson?" Damian being the first to break the silence by practically spitting the words out through his gritted teeth. Even with his perfect poster the tension coiling in his limbs is visible to the untrained eye.

"Someone's got to be the one to do it, little D. And, clearly, they needed it." Dick's tone was placating, but his smile wasn't. The way he stands in the center of the room reminiscent of an orchestra conductor.

"Don't use them as an excuse for your touch-starved tendencies, Dick." Barbara retorted, rolling in her chair towards another computer. She immediately began typing on it at a furious pace, clearly trying to distract herself.

"Low blow, Babs." He whistled in return. Everyone else seemed focused on giving him the silent treatment causing his grin to widen further. "I can't help that I'm a naturally-"

"I just texted Bruce about it." Duke suddenly says, looking up from his phone with a smug grin. He face had been blank before, but the way his eyes glanced up at Dick and the others when there heads jerk towards him showed off a hint of self-satisfaction.

"That's cheating." Childishly spills from Dick's mouth. This was suppose to be his favor to them. His. Not anyone else's.

"Bruce doesn't get text while in the Watchtower." Stephanie points out while uncurling from her seat, but the damage is done.

"Could we contact Father in the Watchtower?" Damian practically leaps from his seat and rushes to the Batcomputer where Tim sits. Alliances quickly being drawn up.

"He'd be pissed if we contacted him for something like this." Jason adds with a grin. He doesn't bother looking up from cleaning his guns, just not at all bothered by the prospect of pissing Bruce off.

"But, then message would be logged into the League data base." Comes Barbara's stern voice from her computer, her typing coming to a pause. Tim still keeps at whatever he was working on before Dick walked into the cave, but on the screen there is a flash of airline websites so it's fairly easy to conclude what his plan of persuasion is.

Cassandra watches the exchange reading the emotions through everyone's movements. Silently, she throws her bid in as well. Choosing to slide over to Stephanie and signing the making of a plan.

From there it spirals into an all out argument between each and every member of the family. Debating logistics and exchanging petty insults that seems to go on for hours. Hardly anything gets done while words are being thrown around like bullets.

In the back of his mind, Dick once again curses everyone and everything for ruining this for him. But, he reassures himself, the banter from earlier comes back to him.

It's a decent plan, he thinks. Sneaking Reader out of the manor. Convincing Bruce would be ideal, but it wouldn't be the first time he's broken the rules. And, it's for their happiness and well being. They need him. They asked him for his help. Not the other's. Not anyone else's. His. Bruce will understand.

Besides, it would be nice to see the Smalltown they grew up in. It sounds like a quaint little place. What could possibly be wrong with it?

[flickering-chandelier]

In Real Life

Pairing: Azriel x Real world! Reader

Summary: Reader's life in the real world is wearing down on her. So when she accidentally ends up in the world of ACOTAR and in Azriel's arms, she starts to wonder if she even needs to get home at all.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, light smut (I did NOT know where this one was going when I started 😂 😭)

Word count: 4.5k

The stress of the last few days eased significantly as you walked into the library that you knew better than the back of your hand, the one you had practically grown up in.

Your lips curled up into a small smile as you lightly traced your hands along the familiar spines of the books, taking in the atmosphere.

As a kid, your mom had often told you stories about how this library was magical. That it could take you to new places, places that wouldn't normally be within our reach in the real world.

Of course, now you knew that she was referring to the magic of books, how you could be whisked away somewhere entirely different without leaving your chair. Still though, you often thought about the stories she told when you came back here, about how reading near the old well out back could transport you into the book you were reading.

You had tried it countless times as a kid, and unsurprisingly, it had never worked.

Today, though, you were feeling just nostalgic enough and just stressed enough that you thought it couldn't hurt to give it a try, for old time's sake. Surely wherever you could end up would be better than here.

After skimming the shelves for a bit, you picked up the second installment of a fantasy series that you had started a few weeks prior. You couldn't deny that you were intrigued.

You checked out the book and took it out to the garden that very few people ever frequented, in your experience. It was completely empty today, so you enjoyed the peace and quiet as you settled in on the bench near the well, your back pressed up against its side.

The birds were chirping, the tree branches rustling lightly as you dove into the story, and pretty much immediately, you were hooked, thrilled by the characters and the setting.

“I would not mind taking a trip to Velaris,” you murmured, eyeing the well conspiratorially.

For a moment, nothing happened. But then the wind picked up suddenly, sending the pages of your book flying, the pages turning faster and faster, and you just watched, memorized.

It was a sensation you had never felt before. You truly couldn't avert your gaze to anything else.

Then the wind died as suddenly as it had started, and your trance was broken.

When you looked up, your breath was completely caught in your throat. You weren't in the library's garden anymore, that much was clear.

You staggered back against a wall as people bustled around you. Beyond them, you could see a river, and just beyond that were jagged mountains.

Surely, it couldn't be…

You tried your best to focus on the people in front of you, and when you did, you noticed the pointed ears, the elegance that everyone who passed you possessed.

Somewhat self consciously, you reached up to your own ears, only to find that they were now pointed as well. Were you technically one of the fae now?

It was completely impossible, and yet… It was the only explanation.

The well had taken you to Velaris.

You wandered the streets somewhat aimlessly, trying to take it all in, and yet hardly believing your eyes.

Before long, your eyes locked on a man with large black wings, the siphons strapped to his body glowing blue, shadows dancing around him.

Your heart thundered in your chest. Azriel.

It hadn't occurred to you until then that not only had you been taken to this place, but the characters were here, too.

It felt completely impossible to tear your eyes from him. He moved with an assurance you could never hope to achieve. It was breathtaking, really.

The breath was completely stolen from your throat when those gorgeous hazel eyes locked with yours.

He cocked his head to the side slightly, like he was trying to place you.

Azriel seemed to change his course, heading for you, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration.

He towered over you, his eyes assessing your face. You tried not to squirm as he asked, “Do I… know you?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Did he somehow recognize that you were the reader, that you knew him?

This was getting way more complicated than you had ever intended.

Finally, you just said, “I don't think so?”

His eyes narrowed, his shadows curling up towards his ear, most likely communicating with him. Informing him that you weren't completely telling the truth.

“Try again,” he said after a moment, his eyes not wavering from yours.

You sighed anxiously. “Okay, the truth is I don't know if you know me. But I do know you.”

He stared at you for another moment, his eyebrow raised as he scrutinized you. “You're not from here, are you?”

“No,” you said quietly.

As his eyes continued to pierce yours, you understood why he was the spymaster, why he was the one sent to get information out of people. He was foreboding as hell.

“You seem so familiar to me,” he murmured so quietly that you honestly weren't sure if he was even talking to you.

“I'm not sure if I can explain that,” you winced.

He looked at you quizzically, then seemed to come to some kind of decision.

“If I ask you to come with me, will you do it willingly?” He asked.

“The alternative being?”

The side of his mouth turned up into the slightest smile and your knees went slightly weak. “I sling you over my shoulder and force you to come with me.”

You honestly debated longer than you should have. Maybe you should have him carry you out of here, just for fun. Azriel was an intriguing and gorgeous character, after all.

But you also were a little afraid of pissing him off, especially since you had no idea how long you would be here or how to get home.

Decisions, decisions.

Fuck it. When else would you have the opportunity to flirt with a hot Illyrian?

Your lips curled up into a smile and you blinked up at him, fluttering your lashes a little. “I think I'll take option two.”

He just looked at you for a moment, but then he laughed quietly, his eyes lighting up and you felt so proud that it was you that made him look like that.

Shaking his head as if in disbelief, he carefully wrapped his arm around your waist… and then you were inside a house.

Damn it. You forgot about winnowing.

You arched your brow at him and he smirked at you. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes at the shadowsinger, you took in your surroundings and came to the conclusion that you must be in Rhysand’s town house.

You couldn't help but take a step back as Rhysand, Cassian, and Feyre walked into the room, looking at you curiously.

Shit, they're intimidating in real life.

As their eyes seemed to scrutinize every inch of you, you took another step backward, running right into Azriel’s taut body.

He steadied you with a hand on your waist, but you didn't exactly feel comforted. This wasn't really what you had in mind. What had you gotten yourself into?

“Why did you bring her here?” Rhysand asked Azriel, his brow furrowing as he studied you.

“She seems… familiar,” Cassian said, his eyes lighting up slightly with recognition. “Have we threatened you before?”

You let out a shaky laugh. “No, not exactly.”

“That's why I brought her,” Azriel said, looking down at you. “There's something off about her, like she shouldn't be here.”

“Look,” you sighed, trying not to shrink back under the weight of so many powerful people. “I don't mean any harm. I'm here by accident.”

They looked between each other, like they were trying to decide if they believed you.

“Explain, then,” Rhysand said, in what must have been his high lord voice. “How did you get here?”

Your mind whirred, trying to find the words. “You wouldn't believe me if I told you…” but he would if he saw it.

You sighed. You weren't sure what the repercussions could be for you in the real world, but you were here for now, and this might be the only way for them to actually believe you.

“You can look,” you said quietly to Rhysand. “I can't explain it, but you can look.”

He raised an eyebrow, surprised, but he took a step towards you, his eyes locked on yours.

“Just look,” you clarified.

He smirked at you. “Smart girl.”

Then you felt the black talons at the edge of your mind, searching inside your head, and you showed him the library, the book, the well, and you showing up on the streets of Velaris.

Rhysand took a step back the moment he exited your mind, his eyes wide in surprise, his body tense.

He just stared at you as everyone watched him curiously, waiting for him to explain.

“I told you,” you said quietly.

Feyre’s eyes widened slightly. Clearly she received the message from Rhys.

“She's not from here,” Rhysand told Cassian and Azriel, his eyes narrowing slightly as he continued to stare at you like he was trying to make sense of it all. “I … think we should sit down.”

Despite everything, you couldn't help but laugh. You had stunned the high lord into silence.

The five of you sat around a large table, everyone's eyes fixed to your face now. You tried not to shrink back from it.

“A… book,” Azriel said slowly, his eyebrow raised in question.

You nodded slowly. “In my world, you're all fictional characters. And Velaris, Prythian, magic … all of it is fictional.”

Cassian let out a snort. “You expect us to believe that magic doesn't exist in your world, and yet you showed up here?”

You opened your mouth to retort back, but quickly clamped it shut. He had a point.

“And everyone is human?” Feyre asked somewhat skeptically.

You nodded.

“Sounds dull,” Rhysand mused.

“It can be,” you laughed. “That's why we read books about… you,” you gestured at them.

For what seemed like hours, you talked through it, what had happened at the well, details about your world that they wanted to know. They mused and debated for ages about how you could possibly get back home, but not coming up with any real answers.

It was getting late by then, and when you had yawned several times in a row, they seemed to take pity on you, and Azriel was given the duty to lead you to your room.

He leaned against the wall outside your room, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“I think so,” you said cautiously. You hadn't really let yourself think about it yet, how you would get home, how long it would take. “Who knows, maybe I'll wake up at home,” you shrugged, feigning nonchalance.

Azriel's mouth quirked up into the ghost of a smile. “That would be a shame,” he murmured.

Heat rushed instantly to your cheeks and his smile widened slightly as he cleared his throat. “If you need anything, I'm next door, okay?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice to speak.

His eyes held yours for another moment before he backed away, disappearing into his own room.

You did not, in fact, wake up at home, and you honestly couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not.

After raiding the armoire, you got dressed in a black tunic that was way more comfortable than the clothes you were used to, and wandered downstairs, where everyone was eating breakfast at the same table where Rhysand told everyone your story last night.

They looked up at you expectantly.

“Still here, huh?” Cassian asked, nodding to the seat in between him and Azriel.

“I guess so,” you said, gratefully sitting down at the table and piling food onto your plate.

You felt Azriel's eyes on you and you were suddenly glad that you were still here.

After a minute, they started conversing as if you weren't there at all, and it was surreal to find yourself a fly on the wall during a conversation from people you knew so well, yet were seeing in a completely new way.

Azriel's eyes met yours as breakfast came to a close. “So, in the stories that you were told, about the magic in the library, no one ever mentioned how to get back home?”

“No,” you said. “That part didn't seem important when the stories were just fairy tales.”

“Fairy tales,” he repeated, raising a brow.

You laughed. “Right. I'm literally in a fairy tale.”

He just looked at you for a moment, amused. “I can help you,” he said quietly. “If you want.”

“Help me?” You asked.

“Get home,” he clarified. “Or at least, I can help you look for answers.”

“You would do that?” You felt a swell of emotion in your chest that was nearly impossible to stomp down.

He nodded. “I have an idea.”

Your curiosity definitely peaked as you followed Azriel into a massive underground library, where the priestesses took their refuge.

“If we have the answers, they'll be here,” Azriel said softly over his shoulder.

You hung back slightly as he spoke quietly with the priestess at the front desk. It warmed your heart to see his demeanor change in the library: his voice was remarkably soft, his body language made him look almost gentle, rather than the merciless shadowsinger.

The priestesses brought you a few books and the two of you got settled in comfy chairs, reading in comfortable silence.

A few hours later though, you weren’t any closer to finding answers, and you found yourself more and more frustrated.

You sighed, resting your head on the back of your chair, shifting your gaze over to Azriel, who looked very focused on what he was reading. He was distracted enough that you allowed yourself the time to study him a little longer than you would have otherwise. Your gaze caught on his biceps, on the veins on his forearms, his hands holding the book in his lap.

He looked up at you when your breath caught, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Let’s take a break,” you sighed, blinking away the hearts in your eyes. “We’re not getting anywhere, and I want to see more of Velaris before I figure out how to get home anyway.”

“You want company?” he asked.

You couldn’t help but smile. “Of course I do.”

The streets weren’t as busy as they had been the previous day, and Azriel had more room for his wings, you noticed.

He turned to you as you watched him. “The wings can be tricky when it’s crowded,” he explained.

“Have you ever hit anybody accidentally?”

Red dusted his cheeks slightly and he looked away. “No comment.”

You threw your head back laughing, picturing the scene, and when you finally looked back at him, he was smiling at you in a way that made your heart race.

Azriel took you all over the city, but the artists’ quarter was what really took your breath away. You stopped at the edge of the Rainbow, taking in the scene before you, letting the beauty wash over you.

It was somewhat overwhelming as you walked through the quarter, Azriel’s shadow never far behind. Your attention was consistently being pulled from one side of the street to the other, and you heard Azriel laugh quietly behind you as you gasped and beelined to an artist weaving a gorgeous tapestry.

It was nearly two hours by the time the two of you made it out of the Rainbow, and your heart felt lighter than it had in months.

“That was amazing,” you beamed, and Azriel steered you away from a group of fae walking in the opposite direction with a hand on your waist. You hadn’t even noticed them in your excitement. “That was what I needed. That’s why I made the wish to the well in the first place.”

Azriel looked at you quizzically. “Things aren’t going well at home?”

You sighed. “It’s not that exactly. It’s just… exhausting. And life doesn’t look the way that I always thought that it would.”

He nodded, his shoulder bumping into yours momentarily as he worked to avoid running into some clearly inebriated fae. “I know the feeling.”

That shouldn’t have surprised you, you supposed, based on what you knew about him, but still. He seemed so in control all the time, it was difficult to believe that he had ever felt unsteady.

“Can we stop and get a drink?” you asked suddenly.

Azriel blinked in surprise, but agreed, leading you to a bar closeby.

You looked quizzically at the drink menu, unfamiliar with any of the offerings. “I don't know what any of this is,” you whispered to Azriel.

He laughed and ordered for you when the bartender came around.

As you looked around the bar, you subconsciously leaned into Azriel a bit, noticing that there were plenty of male fae eyes on you.

Azriel's hand found its way to your hip, pulling you in even closer to him. “It's okay, they won't bother you as long as I'm here,” he murmured against your ear.

His breath on your neck made you shiver, and you placed your hand over his arm where it rested on the bar. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

Your eyes met for a moment and you could have sworn that you saw some heat there, but then he blinked and it was gone as the bartender put your drinks in front of you.

Azriel watched you intently as you took a tentative sip of the mysterious cocktail, which immediately had you coughing and sputtering rather embarrassingly.

He laughed as he watched you, sliding the hand that rested on your waist up to your back. “Are you alright?”

You nodded, trying to control your breathing. “Did you purposely get me the worst thing on the menu?”

Azriel raised his eyebrows in amusement. “That's the most tame drink we have in Velaris.”

“It is not,” you countered. “I'm not exactly a lightweight, but this…” you scowled. “It tastes like lighter fluid.”

“I don't know what that is, but I promise that's the one that should be least likely to make you hurt in the morning.”

You sighed, and eventually worked up the nerve to take another sip. It was still awful, but since you were prepared for it, it went down a little easier.

“Nicely done,” Azriel said, and you could've sworn there was a hint of real pride in his voice.

The two of you talked nonsense as you got towards the bottom of your glass, his thumb tracing small circles on your back.

There must have been something serious in that drink, because by the time you had finished it, you were feeling pleasantly buzzed.

You smiled at Azriel and he grinned back at you, tightening his grip just slightly. “Feeling good?” He asked.

You nodded, letting out a mortifying giggle and laying your head on his shoulder.

He surprised you when he laid his head gently on top of yours. You had half expected him to pull away from you.

This was crazy. You were drinking and flirting with Azriel in Velaris. Why did you want to go home again?

Azriel shifted slightly next to you, and pressed a light kiss to the top of your head before cuddling into you again. It was so gentle, so unexpected, you suddenly wanted to cry.

“Why do you think I seemed familiar to you?” You asked quietly, trying to calm your racing heart.

“I don't know,” he said. “Maybe I could sense you when you were reading the book?”

“Hmmm. Maybe,” you said, unable to resist running your hand lightly over his arm.

“Or maybe you were meant to end up here,” he said even quieter, like he was unsure if he should be saying it at all.

You detangled yourself from his arms to look up at him. “You think so?”

He smiled a little sadly. “Maybe it's wishful thinking on my part.”

It felt like a jolt of electricity rocked your body. “Azriel,” you murmured.

He gazed at you for another moment before he slowly leaned forward, kissing your lips with such gentleness that you could hardly believe it.

You could hardly believe any of this.

After a moment, you leaned into the kiss, opening your mouth to him and he instantly took advantage, slipping his tongue against yours with a quiet groan, his hands weaving into your hair.

“Az,” you moaned quietly, “we should go home.”

He grunted, fishing money out of his pocket and slamming it on the table without breaking the kiss.

He stood up then, his eyes locked on yours and your hand cradled in his, and within the blink of an eye, you were standing in his bedroom at the town house.

You blinked, looking up at him in surprise. “God, I wish we could do that at home.”

Azriel chuckled, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you again.

You ran your hand down his chest, heat spiking through you as you felt each toned muscle tighten and flex at your touch.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, tangled up in each other, until you started tugging at his shirt, desperately trying to raise it above his head.

He stopped your hands with his, breaking the kiss to look at you, his expression suddenly serious, his eyes softening. “Are you sure you want to go further? You were drinking --”

“Azriel,” you said firmly, and he blinked in surprise. “You are my biggest fictional crush, the man of my wildest fantasies, except now you're not fictional, and we're in your bedroom and …” you trailed off, your breath escaping you as he smirked at you, his eyes shining with a bit of wonder and no small amount of smugness. “Just -- please take your shirt off.”

He laughed and the deep rumble of it went straight between your legs. He stepped back, out of your reach, his eyes not wavering from yours as he tugged his shirt up and over his head.

Silently, he looked at you expectantly, still just out of arm's reach.

You were pretty sure you were actually drooling. His muscles… you had never seen a man look like that in real life before. His enormous wings stretched out behind him, and you never thought you would be the type of person who was into that kind of thing, but with him standing there like that -- it just made him look all the more formidable, untouchable.

But for right now, somehow, he was all yours.

You gulped audibly and his smirk only grew. “And… your pants.”

Without breaking eye contact, he let his pants drop to the ground, and you felt the air completely leave your lungs.

Holy shit.

His eyes softened, “We don't have to--”

“Stop saying that,” you breathed, rushing forward to kiss him.

“This feels a little unfair,” he mumbled against your mouth, sliding his hand down your fully clothed side.

“Then fix it,” you replied, occupied with running your hands down his back, kissing anywhere on his chest that you could reach.

He wasted no time, stripping you bare in a matter of moments.

Slowly, like he was trying to memorize you, he traced the lines and curves of your body with his scarred hands, his eyes tracking their path.

You had never felt like this before, so wanted, so important, and it made your heart ache.

He kissed lightly up your neck while his hands continued their exploration of you, murmuring with a low gravelly tone as he reached your ear, “the man of your wildest fantasies?”

You flushed, suddenly embarrassed. “Is that what I said?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, his lips still against your ear, his thumb lightly circling your nipple.

“Well,” you tried to form a coherent response, but it was impossible when he was touching you like that. You leaned your head back, giving him access to lick across your collarbone, your back arching.

“What happens in these fantasies of yours?” He asked, sliding his hands down to grip your ass, then effortlessly lifting you up into his arms, bringing the two of you face to face as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Mmm… about like this,” you said breathlessly, leaning in to kiss him.

“Yeah? What else?” he murmured between kisses.

You groaned, burying your face in his neck.

He chuckled, squeezing your ass teasingly. “Oh, c’mon, don't get shy on me now.”

Your cheeks heated, even though he couldn't see it.

“Something like… this?” He asked, lining himself up so his tip was teasing your entrance.

You gasped, raising your head to gawk at him.

“What?” He laughed.

“You're not gonna fit,” you blurted dumbly, immediately clamping your mouth shut in regret.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Trust me, I'll fit. I'll go slow. Unless you want to stop--”

Azriel pulled his hips back, leaving you aching. “No,” you cried.

Slowly, he brought his hips back to yours, gently teasing your clit with his length, a contrast to the sweet kiss he placed on your forehead.

He backed you up against the wall, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly, slowly, pushed himself into you inch by inch, giving you time to adjust with sweet kisses until he was fully inside you.

He was heaven.

And you couldn't get enough.

Hours later, exhausted and content, you laid in Azriel's bed, your head on his chest, sleepily tracing the lines of his tattoos.

“Tell me about your world,” he said quietly, pressing a kiss into your hair.

You hummed, trying to think of something that might interest him. Finally you settled on trying to describe transportation. Cars and planes fascinated him, and you felt bad that you weren't equipped to answer all his questions about how those things actually worked.

You told him about your house, your job, your life. He asked endless questions, and it warmed your heart that he cared at all.

Eventually, Azriel either ran out of questions or noticed how tired you were, and he stroked your hair gently until you fell into blissful sleep.

In the morning, you woke before Azriel did, and you watched him sleep, his eyelids fluttering slightly now and then as he dreamed.

God, he was a dream.

You had no idea how to get home. In this moment, you weren't even sure you wanted to.

For now, you had Azriel and his friends looking out for you in the beautiful city of Velaris.

And for now, that was enough.

@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria @marina468 @hanuh @owala678

[eczlipse]

your stalker - h.j.

summary : jisung has been your stalker for god knows long— you both get paired in class for a project and he tricks you into coming over at his place.

pairing : stalker/perv!jisung x fem!reader

warnings : smut! oral, fem!receiving, needy reader, stressed out (soothing you) , picture taking, lowercase intended. lmk if i missed any!!

wc: 1.6k

jisung didn’t like to call himself your stalker, preferably your admirer. he’d been very secretive about his excessive interest in you. had he followed you home sometimes? yes. had he stolen some clothes from you? yes. would he harm you in any way? that, he absolutely wouldn’t do.

after all, you were his twisted fantasy. and now, he had to face you. you two were put together in class for a science project. unlucky you, you hadn’t paid attention in class, making you have to talk to the brunette beside you.

- hi, jisung. im y/n! nice to meet you.

that angelic voice of yours never failed to make jisung melt. he’d been so interested in you for so long, yet, seeing you and hearing you from up close mesmerized him even more.

he cleared his throat and began,

- nice to meet you.

he tried to play it off cool although inside he was thrilled to speak to you.

- do you know what to do? cause’ i really don’t—

you chuckled, almost feeling embarrassed of your inattentive behaviour in class. you hoped he knew what had been assigned to-do in class today.

- ah— don’t worry about’ it, i can work on it. also um, the teacher did say we had to complete it by midnight though. maybe you could uh- come over and work on it together at mine’s after school?

jisung had lied to you completely. the teacher hadn’t said that you needed to complete it by midnight, he just wanted you over. so clueless, you answered him positively.

- sure, why not? it’d be easier if we bussed back together then… i don’t think have my city bus card on me though.

- no worries, i can pay for both of us.

he seemed excited to pay, excited to be at service to you. jisung smiled, waiting for you to accept his offer.

- alright then, if you insist!

you’d never had really noticed jisung but, from this interaction, he was nothing but a nice guy— right? you hoped to get to know more about, either if it were in class or in the bus— the bell rung, abruptly stopping your train of thought.

it had been last period so you followed along jisung to get to his house. first you both stopped by his locker then followed over to yours, it hadn’t been too far away. as the crowd was so big, you held onto his backpack and attempted to duck down and follow his lead.

luckily enough, you both made it safetly into the bus as he paid for both you and himself. found yourselves a seat, and sat down side by side.

- god, that was so much. you have to deal with that everyday?

you’d been almost out of breath because of the quick movements from earlier.

- yeah— but i’ve gotten pretty used to it, sorry should’ve warned you… this route takes a while so you can sleep if you want.

sleep, the word you’d wanted to hear all day. you’d given him a nod and slowly put your head on his shoulder. falling asleep to the commotion around you, the outside view from the other windows and a surprisingly warm, comfortable shoulder.

jisung had been speechless the whole ride, a part of him wanted to spend the whole ride gazing at you. the other wanted to put his head on your head too, but, he knew that wouldn’t be something you’d want. he’d sneak a couple pictures of you, not in any bad intentions, he genuinely just found you very alluring. even when you were asleep. he’d do other things with other pictures he’d taken of you, not the sleeping ones—

after a while, you both arrive to jisung’s stop and he slowly woke you up, tapping on your arm and gently lifting your head. this action did infact awake you and you got up very quickly. he almost chuckled at your initiative and made you follow him out the bus. getting off, you couldn’t help but notice how captivating his neighborhood was.

- it’s so pretty here, are we going to have to walk a while?

- thanks, and no we’re only a couple houses down.

he assured. checking the time it read 5pm, his parents wouldn’t be home— perfect. a part of him felt guilty for dragging you out here but, it was a friday and he promised himself to offer you an uber to get back. as you both walked under the magnificent sunset, you followed his steps. the walk may have been silent but it felt peaceful.

this had probably been jisung’s dream : hanging out with the girl he’s obsessed with.

- this is it… my parents aren’t home either.

he whispered while he opened the front door, let you in and closed it behind you.

- oh, okay! this is beautiful— where do we set our things down?

- uhm, i guess we could just chill in my room.

- okay, that’s fine.

you both went up the stairs and into jisung’s bedroom. his room had been decorated with posters, figurines and even a couple mangas. it had been so cool to see. you’d been able to recognize a few anime figures, some looking a bit more suggestive than others atleast—

- this is so cool.

you hummed, he smiled at you and grabbed your things as you both sat down on his bed. he opened both of your science books and lended you a pencil to start working.

he couldn’t contain himself from looking at you so much. your beauty had been blissful to him. the way you curved your lip a bit when you were writing, how you fidgeted with your lip if you were stressed or how your eyebrows would curve up if you didn’t understand something. to him, you were the most captivating girl.

as time passed by, he noticed that you’d been stuck on a question. almost as if you were stressing yourself out, constantly writing and erasing, checking your answers and more.

- hey, what’s going on? do you need help? you seem stressed.

he questioned, putting a hand on your hand attempting to soothe you.

- it’s just this uh— question. i keep getting it wrong and— i keep trying to mm’ restart? nothings work—

- maybe you just need to, relax.

he cut off your stuttering and confusion, only to confuse you more…

- how? how can i relax?

you spoke, breathy because of your ranting from earlier.

at that he slowly placed down your homework and lied you down on his bed. then grew a smirk on jisung’s face. did he want to…? you couldn’t lie to yourself and say he was unattractive. because, he really was cute to you. you let him lie you down until he asked you a simple question.

- maybe i can calm you down, hm?

it’s like you were seeing another side to him, you were more vulnerable to him. you knew what he meant by calming you down, especially with the way he cooed at you—

- um, y— yes, sure.

you shuddered, what kind of affect did he have on you? the way he’d been speaking, that grin— that grin had been once sweet, now so enticing.

you let him slowly unzip your jeans, the wetness between your legs growing. he held eye contact with you, just to see how much you’d squirm or if your face would change in any manner.

as you slid off your pants, he began rubbing his hand over your underwear, making you let out a whimper. jisung’s touch was driving you crazy, and you couldn't get enough of him.

not only were you getting wet, but jisung’s erection had been growing since you’d entered the room. he slowly pulled your panties to the side as you felt the first brush of his fingers against your clit. his smirk never left his face as he’d seen you gasp at his touch.

- you’re so wet for me, need more?

you hummed, curving your eyebrows up. he’d melted at your reaction, that face of yours. he’d finally be seeing you aroused, in front of him. for him.

he began slowly rubbing, his fingers dipping into your wet folds. you moaned, digging your head into his shoulder. he then moved himself down to you, now in between your legs. you could see the hunger in his eyes before finally darting his tongue into you in order to taste you. your hips bucked up, moaning his name.

- fu- fuck, jisung—

he licked and sucked, his tongue working at a perfect pace, you couldn’t help but pull on his hair wanting him deeper in you. his pace increased, your moans and his filling up the room. his erection only grew more, palming himself as he pleasured you. this had been his dream, having you, being in between your legs and making you feel weak over him.

- i’ve wanted you for’ so long—

he groaned in between your legs, fastening his pace. you felt your body tighten as you whimpered, tightening your grip on his hair.

- m’ so close—

you cried out, his hand now gripping onto your thigh. with a loud moan, you came, your orgasm washing over you. your body had been shaken, as you heard jisung’s moans of pleasure, tasting you. he pulled back, his lips glistening in your cum, a stain now evident on his pants.

he finally had you to himself.

[perfectlyoongi]

THE FEELING OF BEING ALIVE

ㅤ↬┊synopsis ... of all the emotions you've ever felt, none were worthy of making you feel alive; that is, until you invited your best friend over to your house after a night out.

ㅤ⚘.fandom ... bts. ㅤㅤಇ.ft. ... jungkook x afab!reader. ㅤ⚘.genre ... long-shot. ㅤㅤಇ.content ... smut (make-out, dry humping, tit play, bitting, cúm play, mi thinks a liiiil masturbatíon (m receiving), needy jk. if u squint u see that he likes u) - mdni pls !!, alcohol, mature language, best friends to ???, pet names (angel, love). i swear this is not angsty !! ㅤㅤಇ.word count ... 3.8k. ㅤ⚘.cole's note ... this was so f-ing hard oh god hope it's decent lol ♡ enjoy !! - not proof read, eng is not my 1st language xx

What does it feel like to be alive?

All your life you have sought the thrill of feeling alive. Between complex relationships and obscene adventures, years of your existence were dedicated to searching for the answer to that question that tormented your mind so much.

It was impossible not to think about something else – you always felt empty, like a puppet in the hands of a destiny that had little interest in you. Any emotion you felt, you felt vaguely, there really was nothing that made you happy or left you crying. You were simply hollow. Nothing existed in you.

As such, you were searching. You desperately searched for emotions and stories that could bring a little meaning to your life. You didn't ask for much, just a small sensation that would make you finally understand why you were here, why you were alive. However, until now, nothing lived up to your expectations – you continued to live day after day with the hope of a change that never seemed to come. But you weren't going to give up.

For now, you just wanted to have fun – who knows; maybe it was in the loud melodies of the club or in the sweet drops of your drink that you would find what you were looking for most. Or even in the hands of your best friend that didn't seem to let go of your body.

The club was full, noisy. The intense smell of alcohol invaded the space, drowned out by the loud and absurd music that echoed through the walls of the place. Different people participated in jovial rituals between rhythmic movements and colorful drinks, filling the club with pure entertainment and euphoria. And you were one of those people.

With your left hand you held a half-empty glass, moving it above your head according to the rhythm of the music that was playing. Your right hand was resting on Jungkook's shoulder, who, with both of his hands, held your hips as he helped you sway to his favorite song.

Jungkook had arrived today from his tour. It was your custom to meet up whenever he returned home, spending hours talking about the singer's adventures, recounting everything he had missed while he was away from your life. And, as usual, you always ended up in a bar or club, wanting to end your day completely drunk on pure ecstasy.

For some time now your words had lost all meaning. Both you and Jungkook were too focused on the alcohol coursing through your veins to hold any conversation. Not that it was necessary. Between you and Jungkook, there was no need to exchange words – a simple look was enough to understand each other.

The song was coming to an end, Jungkook slowing your movements as he held your left hand and pulled your glass towards him. After sipping your sweet drink, Jungkook brought his face closer to yours, his lips almost kissing your ear to make himself heard in the midst of that commotion.

“It’s already three in the morning.”

You nodded and, after finishing your drink, you held Jungkook's hand and left the club, bypassing men and women who still insisted on having a good time.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Jungkook wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling you close to him before starting to walk through the city towards your house.

The night was beautiful. Sky clear of any clouds, some stars shining shyly around a single, full moon. Silence soaked in a gentle summer breeze, the whole city asleep as you and your best friend walked the sleepy streets that led you home.

Small laughs escaped your mouths. Not because any jokes were being told, but because Jungkook insisted on hindering your steps, wanting you to stumble in the air for his entertainment. The path to your house was short, a little bumpy with so much laughter and pushing, but it was genuine, covered with a blanket of pure comfort.

“Wanna come in?”

You were looking for your keys while waiting for a response from Jungkook; with his hands in the pockets of his pants, looking at the building before him, Jungkook smiled openly at your question, having secretly wished that you would invite him in – he had just missed you too much.

In the elevator of your building, you laid your head next to Jungkook, closing your eyes for a moment, as you felt his hand grab your waist to keep you safe. The silence between you was comforting, enveloping you in a small hug of serenity and warmth; in the peace between you, you felt safe, Jungkook's hand always attached to you reminding you that, with him, you had nothing to fear – and that was just one of the many reasons that made you like Jungkook so much.

You turned on the light in your apartment with a tired sigh.

Upon entering your house, your body instantly guided you to the kitchen where you took two beers from your fridge and gave one to Jungkook. After a small sip, you held your friend's hand and took him to your room, where the stereo was eager to make you dance one last time.

You turned on the music quickly, lowering the sound a little as not to disturb the neighbors, and, still drunk with the emotions of the club, you let your body move slowly to the sound of the music.

Jungkook sat on your bed, drinking his beer while replying to messages that had been on his phone since the beginning of the night. He rocked his body unconsciously, his thumb tapping quickly on his cell phone screen, wanting to ditch his obligations as a friend so he could focus entirely on the beer, on the music, on you.

“T’night feels long,” you smiled as you changed the song, your head bobbing to the beat. “In a good way, ‘course.”

“The night only started when we arrived at the club,” Jungkook let out a small laugh and threw his cell phone to the other side of the bed. “If you wan’, we can extend it ‘till dawn.”

You looked at Jungkook and smiled – you sealed his suggestion with a simple curve of your lips and a flutter of your eyelashes.

Even before Jungkook got up, you placed your beer on your bedside table and placed yourself in front of your best friend. Jungkook gently tilted his head to look at you, smile on his lips, tenderness in his hands as he placed them gently on your waist.

You placed your forehead against his while your body slowly danced to the music that echoed throughout the room. Your smile was big, but not bigger than Jungkook's who was still looking at you tenderly, the sparkle in his eyes making him even more adorable.

You had drunk too much – that's what you believed, that's what you repeated to yourself when your hands fell on Jungkook's shoulders and your body decided to sensualize your movements. And Jungkook let you dance. Taking his hands off of you, Jungkook just stared at you as he watched you move so slowly and sensually to the music.

He opened his legs on instinct and you placed yourself between them, rotating your body. You bent down gently, your ass brushing against Jungkook in a movement that was too quick for his liking. He just smiled, his tongue touching his cheek in an attempt to control himself as he saw you turn your body again and take the beer out of his hand and place it next to yours.

You were smiling yourself, teasing Jungkook with your tempting lips. And even before you walked away from him, Jungkook grabbed your hips again, pulling you towards him.

Your foreheads came together once again, your smiles still stuck on your lips. And a silence followed, only broken by the music from your stereo. However, between you and Jungkook, there was no need to exchange words – a simple look was enough to understand each other. And, as such, you and Jungkook leaned in at the same time for a kiss.

It started slowly, Jungkook tasting your lips, while he gently squeezed your body; but he quickly became thirsty, hungrier for you. Your hands held Jungkook's face, your fingers caressing your friend's silky hair as he pulled you closer to him, more than was possible.

You moved a little away from Jungkook to breathe, your lips so close that you could still taste him. One tease, two teases and, before you could tease Jungkook's lips a third time, he quickly brought your lips together again, using his tongue to accommodate itself in your mouth.

Jungkook guided you to his lap with his hands, making you sit on his legs and pulling, over and over again, your body close to his. His lips separated from yours and trailed your face, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. Jungkook's lips worshipped your neck, leaving wet kisses on your skin, making you sigh as he gently sucked your essence. Your hand tangled in Jungkook's dark hair, gently pulling some strands when his kisses felt more enjoyable, making him smile against your neck.

Jungkook still had his hands on you, but he wanted more.

Still lost in your scent and focused on your neck, Jungkook's hands went down to your thighs, squeezing you gently before moving them up again, hiding them under your clothes. You sighed when you felt Jungkook's warm fingers on your skin — the way he squeezed you gently made you feel important.

“Kookie…”

“Hm?” He moved his lips back, following the same path as before, loving every corner of your skin. “Tell me, angel.”

You opened your mouth slightly, letting a new sigh escape your lips when Jungkook squeezed you again and pulled you towards him, your intimacy very slightly feeling Jungkook becoming hard.

“We’ still friends, right?”

He kissed you a first time and smiled. He kissed you a second time and ran his hands up your back. He kissed you a third time and nodded.

“Best friends,” he corrected you, smile stuck on his lips, fingers stroking your back.

“Good,” you kissed Jungkook again desperately, as if he were the answer to all the questions that clouded your mind. You were greedy. You only wanted him. You just wanted more of him.

Your hands grabbed Jungkook's shirt and, as quickly as you could, freed him from the fabric, throwing it roughly to the floor of your room. You could finally feel him. Your fingers lingered on your best friend's chest; caressing Jungkook made you feel lost, totally intoxicated by the softness of his skin, by the absurdity of the whole situation – what were you doing?

You decided to be the one to love this time, your lips getting lost on Jungkook's neck while kisses were left as memories of a fantastic night. In the crook of Jungkook's neck, your teeth sank into his hot skin, making him let out a small sigh that lingered forever in your room. More. You wanted to hear more.

Without realizing it, you started to move your hips, resting your forehead on Jungkook's shoulder, the friction forced by you making you sigh softly. And him too. Jungkook held your thighs again, helping your movements, sighing with his eyes closed at the feeling of having you so close to him.

Jungkook was starting to get impatient. He wanted more of you. He needed more of you.

He quickly took off your shirt, wasting no time admiring your body, kissing your skin immediately as his hands toke off your bra. With your breasts exposed, Jungkook became hungrier. His lips began to kiss your collarbone, trailing along your soft skin in paths unknown to him; it was only a matter of time before Jungkook found himself with your breasts.

You let a small moan escape your mouth when Jungkook began worshiping your breasts. Your friend's tender lips kissed your boob thirstily, gently sucking on your skin, carefully biting your very appetizing nipple. Jungkook's mouth was an expert at worshiping you. And you could only moan softly, gently. One of Jungkook's hands squeezed your other breast, his slender fingers pinching, teasing your exposed nipple. He seemed starving, completely hungry for you; Jungkook just wanted more of you, more of your smooth skin, more of your sensual moans.

He lingered on your breasts, making sure every corner of your skin was marked with his saliva. Your moans filled the room, motivating Jungkook to continue, to not stop worshiping you. He was completely intoxicated with you.

“Kook…” your voice came out weak, in a whisper, covered in small moans and teasing sighs. “Jung…kook…”

“Yea, my angel,” Jungkook moved slightly away from your chest, now looking at you for the first time since he had undressed you. His sweet eyes roamed every inch of your skin, admiring how naturally beautiful you really were, feeling more and more needy with each passing second.

You gently moved your hips, pressing your intimacy to Jungkook's, causing you both to let out a small groan.

“Can we…” Jungkook’s fingers traced your body, outlining every curve and mark with a provocative delicacy that only left you sighing deeply. “Can we do… more?”

Jungkook's response came in the form of a kiss, massaging your lips once again while his big hands slid to your ass and squeezed it tightly. You moaned softly when Jungkook bit your neck hard, marking his devotion on your skin, leaving you a memory of a night that had become magical.

Your hands quickly grabbed Jungkook's pants, impatiently unbolting them, causing Jungkook to laugh a little. But you didn't care; you hadn't even fully heard him. You needed more of Jungkook, you just wanted more of Jungkook.

In a quick maneuver you pulled Jungkook's pants, leaving them lying on the floor surrounding his feet, and looked at him. Your eyes shone with desire. Wherever you focused your gaze, you could only see fascination painted on Jungkook's face; his lips were slightly open, begging for one more kiss from you, begging for one more contact with your body; his eyes, so sweet and bright, now consumed by the greed that ran through his body, were locked on you, silently asking you if you wanted more, if you should continue.

For a moment, everything was static.

Your hands were resting on Jungkook's shoulders. Jungkook's hands were resting on your hips. Your eyes were lost in Jungkook’s attractive features. Jungkook's eyes were lost in your delicate features.

Just a moment. Just a second.

You were going to continue. You just wanted to continue.

You rushed in for an intense kiss, answering the question dictated by your best friend's eyes. As he kissed you, completely soaked in your essence, intoxicated with your fragrance, Jungkook's hands looked for the button of your pants, wanting to undress you as quickly as possible – he wanted to feel you.

You left Jungkook's lap for mere moments, just long enough for your pants to fall to the floor. You didn't have time to waste. Every second was precious when shared with Jungkook.

When you sat down on Jungkook's lap again, he let out a groan. You were wet, a lot. Your fluids passed through the fabric of your panties. And Jungkook felt it. Through his boxers, Jungkook felt your excitement.

Your hand went down to your friend's boxers as your lips seduced his neck. Above the fabric, your hand caressed Jungkook's penis, feeling how hard he was – because of you. Your thumb gently pressed the tip of Jungkook's cock, gently caressing it stimulated by the pre-cum that painted his boxers.

“F…fuck, ugh!” He could only groan. Feeling your touch, even if it was blocked by a cloth, drove him insane. With his head tilted and his eyes closed, Jungkook allowed himself to be pampered by you.

His mind was completely covered with pure pleasure and euphoria. Your lips kissed Jungkook's neck, your hand caressed Jungkook's cock, and Jungkook felt special at that moment, important.

“I want…” Jungkook’s voice was lost in his moans, trying to release words beyond the profanities that trapped his lips. “I want… you. Agh! More… please.”

You held Jungkook's shoulders with your hands again and, now stimulated by the fluids that stained your underwear, your hips began to move gently. The friction you caused seemed divine, guiding your mind to paths of pure pleasure and desire, creating moans in your mouth that were released weakly. Your voice stuck to Jungkook's skin, fixing the euphoria that ran throughout your body in his chest.

With his hands, Jungkook caressed your thighs. Feeling your soft skin in his hands as you brushed against him drove Jungkook crazy. Sighs and moans filled your room, completely drowning out the music that insisted on dictating the rhythm of your movements – but you didn't hear it, you were too focused on Jungkook to notice what was happening around you.

You kissed Jungkook again, your hands pressing down on his body. Jungkook let himself be guided by you, ending up laying down on your bed while he delighted in your intense kisses and precise movements. Your lips were poisonous, corrupting Jungkook's composure, forcing him to moan into your mouth, to squeeze your thighs, to get harder and harder.

“Jungkook…”

How divine it was to hear his name being pronounced by your sinful lips, adorned by the pleasurable sighs that escaped you. “Yea, my love?” And how sublime it was to call you that word with his hoarse voice, immersed in the desire that was trapped in his intense sighs.

“Tell me…” you moved away from Jungkook’s lips and approached his ear, your lips almost caressing it, your tongue teasing his sensitive skin. “Tell me when you’re close.”

You kissed Jungkook's neck, once, twice, three times, and after marking your teeth in the crook of his neck once more, you straightened your back, freely rocking your body on top of Jungkook.

Your friend's eyes were locked on you, completely mesmerized by your sensual movements. There was something about the way your hips moved, the way you brushed against Jungkook so perfectly, that made him impatient for more, completely desperate for you. But he just looked at you, admiring your every movement, retaining in his memory every sound that came out of you.

You were covered in pleasure. Even though you didn't feel Jungkook's penis in its entirety, you were excited – the friction was good, too good, making your intimacy increasingly wet, increasingly thirsty for Jungkook. You wanted more, you wanted much more. But you just brought your hands to your breasts, caressing them with the memory of Jungkook's touch in your mind, moving your hips faster.

Beautiful. You were simply beautiful. With your eyes closed, head tilted back and lips slightly open, you looked magnificent. With hands on your breasts and intimacy soaked, you were divine. Unique. That image was unique to Jungkook. Something he felt was not for his eyes, too lewd for him to be aware of. But, fuck!, how perfect you were.

“I’m…” Jungkook swallowed a moan before speaking, taking a deep breath when you touched the head of his cock. “I’m… agh!, close… close…!”

You smiled at yourself. So fast it was. So hungry he was.

You kissed Jungkook again once, twice, three times, and before separating your lips from his, your hands held Jungkook's, guiding them to your ass, making you smile.

“Use me however you want.” Your voice sounded so low, so perverse in Jungkook's ear that he couldn't stifle a new moan. You were too much for him.

Squeezing your ass, Jungkook helped increase the speed of your movements, making the pressure on him more intense for both of you.

Both you and Jungkook were out of control. Lost in each other's moans, disoriented by the exaltation that coursed through your bodies as part of you. You hid your face in the crook of Jungkook's neck, his fragrance mixed with his sweat clouding your mind. Nothing else existed at that moment. You felt nothing else at that moment other than the excess pleasure that Jungkook gave you with each pressure on your intimacy.

“Jung… fuck! Jungkook, I’m…”

“I’m close,” he repeated, breathlessly, not fully hearing you. His mind was stuck on the way you stained his boxers, completely focused on how perfectly you caressed his penis. “Close…”

“Fuck! Agh, Jung… U-ugh!” You bit Jungkook again when you felt a knot in your stomach, your head spinning when you finally came. A feeling of freedom washed over you, trapping your lips and staining your panties.

You felt good at that moment, completely fulfilled while Jungkook still kept pace, caressing your intimacy excessively, forcing you to let out moans and meaningless words, totally drunk with pleasure.

“Please…” your voice was hoarse, low, not wanting to be heard in its entirety so well you were feeling. “Jungkook, please, aghn!”

“Again,” Jungkook asked between moans, feeling his limit approaching faster and faster. “My… ugh… name!… again.”

You obeyed out of instinct.

“Jungkook.”

Like an enchantment hovering in the air, Jungkook's name sounded once again, embellished by your tired voice, framed by the pleasure he caused you. And that was all it took. Enticed by your voice, Jungkook couldn't contain his euphoria – pearl strands marked stains on his dark boxers, a long, low grunt accompanying Jungkook's climax as he slowed down his movements until he left you motionless on top of him.

Both you and Jungkook were panting.

Still processing the ecstasy that completely washed over your bodies, you and Jungkook remained lying with your eyes closed – your head resting on Jungkook's chest, his hands still resting on your ass. There was a moment of pause. Brief seconds of silence that were cut by music that was too pure for the occasion.

You finally smiled.

You gently lifted your torso and moved a little away from Jungkook's intimacy, just enough to be able to tease him. Your fingers invaded Jungkook's privacy driven by curiosity and were quickly bathed in his essence. You let that white fluid paint your fingers as you created art on Jungkook's penis with his own essence – up, down, on the head, along the entire length.

A small moan sounded between Jungkook's smile, his head lifting a little to see you.

“What’re you doin’?”

“I just wanna see the damage I did,” you shrugged and continued to stimulate Jungkook with his own cum as you smiled to yourself.

“If you continue, you’ll have to take responsibility.”

“Doesn’t seem that bad.”

You looked at Jungkook innocently, the contrast in your wicked smile being enough to drive your friend crazy once again.

All your life you have sought the thrill of feeling alive. And that night, when held in your best friend's arms and drunk on the pleasure he gave you, you almost found the feeling of being alive.

Maybe, but just maybe, the feeling of being alive was similar to the feeling of being worshipped by Jungkook.

ㅤㅤ♡ feedback is appreciated ♡

[lostfracturess]

─── games and matches | ch. 03

pairing — satoru gojo x suguru's daughter reader

summary — after a night of partying and drinking, you run into none other than satoru gojo — your dad's infuriatingly hot best friend who you haven't seen in years. blame it on the alcohol, but you start flirting with him. and he flirts back. so, can it really be that wrong to want to fuck your dad's best friend? after all, what happens in the kitchen at 3AM stays in the kitchen, right?

word count — 12.5 k (chapter 3/3)

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, light angst, age difference, unprotected sex, public sex, sad sex?, masturbation, penetration, oral (female receiving), in need of heavy daddy issues to enjoy this.

author's note — hello again !! we've reached the final chapter of our story. brace yourselves for a bit of angst and emotion, but don't worry, a happy ending is on the horizon. so, get comfy, grab your fave snack, and let's jump into this last chapter & happy reading <3

masterlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | completed ✓

In the days following the party, your father had been livid. 

He'd ranted and raved, furious at what he saw as Satoru's betrayal and your reckless naivety. He'd had a long, serious talk with you, demanding that you end things with Satoru immediately and return to college to focus on your studies.

But the truth was, there hadn't been anything to end with Satoru. 

Not really. 

You'd tried to reason with him, to make him understand that Satoru was not using you and you wanted it too. But he'd been unmovable, insisting that he knew what was best for you, that Satoru was too old, too experienced, too much of a player to ever take you seriously.

Your dad was usually a gentle man at heart.

But you'd never seen him so angry.

But despite his anger towards Satoru, your dad couldn't find it in himself to be truly angry with you. Still, you could see the disappointment in his eyes, so you'd had no choice but to capitulate, agreeing to return to college and focus on your studies, putting some distance between yourself and Satoru. 

But somehow, you couldn't stop thinking about him.

You went through the motions of college life, attending classes and studying late into the night, all the while your thoughts wander back to the man that changed your whole world in mere days.

You counted the days until break, until you could see him again, touch him again, lose yourself in the heat of him again.

It was stupid, really.

You've known him your entire life, but this thing between you, it's new.

And it's irrational, illogical, and yet, you can't help but be drawn to him like a moth to a flame, craving his presence, his touch, as if you'd never realized what you were missing until now. 

It doesn't make sense.

And then, one night as you lay in your dorm room, your roommate out at some party or another — your phone rang. Your heart leapt into your throat when you saw Satoru's name on the screen, your pulse picking up speed as you fumbled to answer.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite lawyer," you drawled, a smile already on your lips. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this late-night call?"

"What, a man can't just call his favorite girl?"

"Aw, you're making me blush. But seriously, what's up?"

"Just wanted to hear your voice, check in on you. That's all."

Your smile softened, your free hand absently playing with the hem of your shirt. 

Oh, his voice.

There was something about his voice that always managed to put you at ease, no matter how stressed you were feeling. It was like a soothing balm, washing over you and melting away all your worries. 

You could listen to him talk for hours, getting lost in the rich timbre of his voice, the way it seemed to wrap around you like a warm embrace. 

Again.

It was stupid, really.

"I'm okay. I mean, Dad's still not thrilled about...us, but he's coming around. He could never stay mad at me for long. You, on the other hand...you might want to steer clear of him for a while,” you said after a pause.

“Yeah, I figured as much. My jaw still hurts like hell. Can't say I blame him though. If I had a daughter, I'd probably want to throttle any man who looked at her twice, too."

“Flatterer. You're just trying to butter me up so I'll send you dirty pictures or something."

"Love, I don't need to butter you up for that. I've got a whole album on my phone that says you're more than happy to oblige me without any sweet talking necessary."

You could hear the grin in his voice, and you huffed out a laugh. "Shut up. I still can't believe I let you talk me into that."

"Oh, I didn't have to do much talking, if I recall. In fact, I'm pretty sure it was your idea to—"

"Anyway," you interrupted. "Other than missing my revealing pictures, how have you been? How's work?"

Are you seriously asking him about work right now? 

Stupid, really.

But somehow you genuinely wanted to know, wanted to know what's happening in his life.

Satoru hummed, and you could picture him stretching out on his bed, one arm tucked behind his head. "Work is work. Busy, stressful, the usual. But I'd rather hear about you. How are classes? How's tennis? Any campus heartthrobs I need to come beat up for sniffing around my girl?"

You smiled, your heart warming at the fond possessiveness in his voice, the easy way he called you 'his girl'. Like it was a foregone conclusion, like there could never be anyone else for either of you.

You laid back more on the bed, starring up the ceiling. “Things are fine. Classes are kicking my ass, but I'm surviving. And tennis is... tennis. Lots of training and sore muscles. The usual."

"Sore muscles huh, there's an image," Satoru purred, his voice dipping low, taking on that gravelly edge that never failed to raise goosebumps on your skin. "You know, if you ever need help with that, I'm more than happy to volunteer my ser—"

"Like what?"

"Oh, you know what I mean."

"You're stupid."

"You love it."

"Mm. Debatable."

"Liar." But he was laughing as he said it, bright and boyish, and the ache in your chest eased a bit.

God, you'd missed this. 

Missed him?

No. That can’t be. 

He’s just an affair, right?

A beat of comfortable silence settled over the line, broken only by the soft sounds of your matched breathing. You closed your eyes, letting yourself pretend, just for a moment, that he was there with you. That if you rolled over, you'd find him sprawled out beside you, all tousled hair and sleepy eyes.

"I miss you," Satoru said quietly, breaking you out of your reverie. 

Your heart clenched, your throat going tight.

For what felt like an eternity, you held your breath.

“You miss fucking me,” you say eventually, needing to break the intensity with a quip, a tease. "That's what this is really about. You're hard up and looking for a steamy bedtime story."

"Oh, I definitely want to fuck you," he agreed readily, his voice pitching lower, darker. "It makes me lose my mind, if I'm being honest. But love, if that was all this was, I'd be watching porn and taking matters into my own hands, so to speak. When I say I miss you... I mean you. Your mind, your heart, your ridiculous snort-laugh that makes you sound like a drunken piglet."

"Rude."

"The point is," he continued, barreling past your interruption, "I miss all of you. The sex is just a very, very nice bonus."

You were glad he couldn't see your face in that moment, because you were fairly certain you were grinning like an idiot. "Wow. I think you missed your calling. You should have been a poet, not a lawyer."

"But then I wouldn't get to argue for a living. Where's the fun in that?"

"Yeah, true. The courtroom would be way too quiet without you there to stir things up."

"Exactly. Plus, I look quite good in a suit."

"Wow, so humble, aren't you?"

"Just spitting facts. But you know, I bet I'd look even better with you by my side."

"Is that so?"

"Definitely. We'd be the ultimate power couple. Me, the godly lawyer, and you, the brilliant and smoking hot...wait, what was it you were studying again?"

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn't see you. "Nice try, Satoru. You know damn well what I'm studying."

"Mmm, it's not coming to me. Guess you'll have to refresh my memory...preferably in person."

"You're such a pain in the ass, you know that?"

"Yeah, but you love me just the way I am."

His words echoed in your mind, 'you love me', and suddenly it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Your throat went tight, your chest constricting as the weight of those words sank in.

He’s just an affair.

You had to remind yourself of it, because otherwise—

No. It could never possibly be.

For a long moment, you just listened to each other breathe, the silence comfortable and charged all at once. It felt like something was building, some inevitable tide that would sweep you both away if you let it.

"Are you alone?" Satoru asked abruptly.

You blinked, snapping back to reality as you glanced around your empty dorm room, taking in the half-cracked textbooks and rumpled bedding, the scatter of discarded clothing littering every surface. You knew your roommate was with her boyfriend tonight, likely wouldn't be home until morning, if at all.

"Yeah," you confirmed. "Just me and a truly alarming amount of dirty laundry."

"Perfect. Put me on speaker."

You paused for a second, but then anticipation rose in your blood, a thrilling shiver running down your spine at the low, suggestive tone of his voice. You did as instructed, placed the phone on your pillow and lay back on the soft bed.

"Take off your pants for me, love.”

You shivered, fingers already working at the tie of your sleep shorts. "You too. I want to hear your voice."

The rustle of fabric and the clank of a belt buckle echoed through the phone, followed by Satoru's drawn-out sigh of relief. "Fuck, that's better," he groaned, sounding almost pained. "I've been hard since the second I heard your voice, just aching to get a hand on myself. You drive me so crazy, you know that? Make me throb and leak, desperate to bury myself in you."

"God, Satoru," you whimpered, heat pulsing between your thighs. Your own pants were long gone, kicked somewhere off the bed. "Don't say things like that. I can't stand how much I need you. I'm already so wet just thinking about you."

"Fuck, such a needy little thing," he groaned. "Put your fingers in that pretty mouth for me. Get them nice and wet for me, love. Pretend it's my cock you're sucking on, my cum you're tasting on your tongue."

You hastened to obey, sliding two fingers past your parted lips. You swirled your tongue around the digits, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked, picturing Satoru's thick length sliding over your tongue, heavy and hard and leaking at the tip.

"God, you’re such a good girl," Satoru breathed, the slick sound of flesh on flesh suggesting his hand had found its destination. "Now trail those wet fingers down your throat, over your chest. Pluck and roll your nipples for me, let me hear those moans."

You did as told, your back arching off the bed as you circled and tugged at the aching peaks. Satoru's labored breathing and low curses spilled from the speaker, causing your core to clench.

"Satoru," you mewled, pinching harder, hips starting to circle restlessly against the empty air. 

"Slide that hand lower, love. Drag your fingertips through your slick folds, feel how wet you are for me. Circle your clit, get it nice and hot and ready for my tongue."

A broken moan tumbled from your lips as you touched yourself as directed, your hips bucking up to chase more of the pressure. Your clit throbbed under the pads of your fingers, aching and needy.

"Wish it was my mouth on you," Satoru panted, the slick, rhythmic glide of his hand over his cock filling the air. "Wish I could bury my face between your thighs and lick up every drop of you. Fuck, the way you taste, the sounds you make—”

"Satoru, please," you whined, two fingers dipping lower to circle your entrance, thighs fallen open. "I want to feel you inside me, want you to fuck me so bad."

"Do it," he commanded breathlessly. "Fuck yourself on your fingers, nice and deep. Picture me there, hovering over you, my cock sinking into you inch by inch. Feel me stretching you wide, filling you up, making you mine."

You obeyed, plunging your fingers knuckle-deep, your free hand flying to your mouth to muffle your cry. You started up a desperate rhythm, hips rolling into every thrust, the wet sounds of your own penetration mixing with Satoru's heavy breathing and latching groans.

"Good girl. Ride those fingers like you'd ride my dick. Fast and hard and greedy, taking every inch. Fuck, if you could see what you're doing to me right now.” His voice was absolutely wrecked, cracking and catching like he was barely hanging on to his control. “I'm so hard it hurts, leaking all over my fist. I'm fucking close already.”

You whimpered, your hips bucking into your hand as his words made your core clench harder. "Tell me, Satoru. Tell me what you're doing, how you're stroking yourself. I want to hear it, want to picture it so clearly it's like I'm there with you."

Satoru groaned. "I've got my cock in a tight grip, love. Squeezing the base hard to stave off my orgasm, because I'll be damned if I come before you do. Want to time it just right, want to hear you fall apart and know it's my voice that pushed you over the edge."

You moaned brokenly, thighs starting to tremble as your climax approached. "Close," you managed to gasp out, your free hand fisting in your sweat-dampened sheets. "Satoru, fuck, I'm so fucking close—"

"Come with me, love," he encouraged, voice breaking on a moan. "Rub your clit just how I know you like, just how I would with my tongue. Fuck, I can practically taste you, can feel you clenching around my fingers, my cock—"

And then his low, throaty groan cut through the air, and the sound — so intimate, so hot, so fucking reminiscent of all the times he'd spilled inside you — shoved you violently over the edge.

With a wordless cry, you shattered, your core rippling and gushing around your buried fingers. Distantly, you heard Satoru praising you through his own desperate grunts and moans, heard the rhythmic slap of his hand as it pumped his twitching cock through the aftershocks.

For long, panting moments, you just trembled and gasped in the aftermath, boneless and buzzing, your heart pounding against your ribs. Your skin felt too tight, your body alive and electric in a way only Satoru could cause — even from miles away.

"Fuck, what you do to me, woman," Satoru said after a moment, his words hitching a bit like he'd just stretched out real good. "You should see the mess I made over here. I'm covered in my own cum, it's all over my stomach and chest. Fuck, I haven't come that hard from just my hand in years."

"I wish I could see that.” You slipped your fingers out of your core and reached for a tissue before collapsing back onto the bed. “Wish I could watch you come, see every drop spill onto your skin. God, I'd lick it all up, every fucking drop, nice and slow."

"Fuck," Satoru choked out, and you could practically hear him trembling through the phone. "You're killing me here, you know that? I'm too old to get it up again this fast, but fuck if you aren't making me want to try."

You laughed. "Sorry, sorry. I'll behave. For now."

"You, behave?" Satoru scoffed, but you could hear the smile in his voice. "I'll believe that when I see it."

"Guess you'll just have to keep me in line then, won't you?"

"Careful what you wish for. Next time I get my hands on you, I might not let you go for days."

"Hm. I’m scared,” you teased.

"Oh, love. You have no idea what you're in for. I'm gonna fuck you so hard and so long that we're gonna break that tiny dorm bed of yours, just you wait."

"Promises, promises, counselor,” you said even as a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. God, you couldn't wait to have him in your bed, in your body, surrounding you with his heat and scent.

Suddenly, your phone chimed with a message notification. You pulled it away from your ear to check the screen and for a moment you forgot how to breathe.

It was a picture from Satoru — or rather his lap.

His sculpted abs and muscular thighs framed the shot and in the center a very familiar thick, generously proportioned cock, red and swollen and covered in milky cum, a pearly bead of liquid welling from the slit. 

Damn. 

He really had made a mess. 

"Fuck, Satoru. Warn a girl before you go sending porn of yourself, would you?”

"What, you don't like your presents? And here I put so much effort into the lighting and angles."

You huffed out a laugh, your cheeks flushing hot as you continued to stare at the picture. "Oh, I didn't say that. Trust me, this is going in the top tier spank bank folder. Might even make it my new background, so I can stare at your dick all day during boring lectures."

"Don't you dare. My cock is for your eyes only, got it? No sharing with the class."

"Aww, you're no fun.”

"Oh, I'll show you fun.”

“You know—” You rolled onto your side and hugged a pillow to your chest. "You should come visit me sometime."

There was a beat of surprised silence, then a sharp inhale. "You want me to come to your college?"

You shrugged even though he couldn't see it. "I mean... yeah. Why not?”

"But what about Suguru? I thought he made it pretty clear he didn't want me within a hundred miles of you.”

"My dad's not here though, is he? He can't exactly stalk our every move when I'm hours away at school. And besides, I'm a grown woman. He doesn't get to tell me who I can and can't see."

"You're really trying to give your old man a heart attack, huh?"

"To be fair, I think we both are," you said with a chuckle. "So, is that a promise? You'll come see me?"

"Sure. I'll drive up this weekend. We can grab dinner, take a walk around campus, whatever you want."

"And then barricade ourselves in my dorm room and not come up for air until Sunday night, right?"

A low, strangled groan echoed over the line. "God, I can't wait to get my hands on you. My mouth on you. Wanna make you scream so loud, the whole damn dorm knows exactly how well you're being taken care of.”

Your face hurt from how hard you were smiling. "Looks like we both have our work cut out for us then. Good thing we've got all weekend to cross some things off the to-do list, because I've already got a few ideas."

"Oh, really? What ideas?”

"Mm, that would be telling.”

"You goddamn tease," he laughed, the sound warm and rich and god, you'd never tire of hearing it.

A beat of comfortable silence fell between you, filled only with the soft sounds of your matched breathing over the line. It was intimate in its own way, just existing together in this quiet moment.

"I miss you," Satoru said quietly, “really miss you.”

You inhaled shakily, your heart racing in your chest. "I miss you too.”

Another pause, heavy with unspoken emotion.

"Sleep well, love," Satoru murmured finally, a soft smile in his voice. "Dream of me."

"Yeah, you too, counselor," you whispered back. "See you soon."

And then he was gone, the line clicking off, leaving you alone with the pounding of your heart and the swirling mess of your thoughts.

You rolled onto your back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the emotions churning in your gut. This thing with Satoru—it was supposed to be casual. Fun. Just a hot little affair between two consenting adults, no strings or expectations.

Just really good sex.

Mind-blowingly good sex, sure, but still just sex. 

But the way he'd sounded just now, so soft and earnest, the way your pulse raced and your skin tingled at just the thought of seeing him, being near him—

God, what was this feeling? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the tiny, traitorous voice whispering that it was so much more than that.

It couldn't be. 

You couldn't let it be.

Because you were married to tennis. And Satoru, with his high-powered career, was always jetting off to handle cases abroad.

This, whatever this was between you, it had an expiration date. 

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

The sun beat down on the back of your neck as you bounced lightly on the balls of your feet, racket at the ready. Your hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, a few sticky strands clinging to your sweaty face.

You'd been out on the court for over an hour, serving balls and perfecting your moves. It was tough as hell, but damn did it feel good to push yourself, to feel the satisfying burn in your muscles.

Tennis was your escape, your passion. 

When you were on the court, nothing else mattered. Not school, not picking a major, not deciding if you should chase your pro athlete dreams.

Out here, it was just you, your racket, and the ball. 

Pure and simple.

You were so focused on your practice, so absorbed in the steady back and forth of the ball, that you completely missed the fact that you had an audience. At least, until a very familiar voice called out, cutting through the regular court sounds.

"Hey there, superstar."

You turned around, to see Satoru walking towards you, a rakish grin on his unfairly handsome face. He was dressed casually in dark slacks and a light sage button down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscular forearms.

"Satoru?" you gasped, your heart racing. "What are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming 'til tomorrow."

He shrugged, tucking his hands in his pockets as he got closer. "Couldn't wait that long. Kept picturing you out here, all alone, in that little skirt..." His eyes raked over you, hot and heavy, lingering on your bare legs. "Let's just say it was a bit too much for my poor imagination to handle."

You flushed, a thrill chasing down your spine at the blatant appreciation in his gaze. Suddenly, you were acutely aware of your skimpy tennis dress, of the way the thin, sweat-soaked fabric clung to your curves.

"So what, you just decided to drive all night and ambush me on the court in broad daylight?" You crossed your arms, trying to look stern even though you were fighting back a smile.

"Ambush? I prefer 'surprise’, or maybe 'make your whole day’, given the way you're looking at me right now."

You scoffed, but couldn't stop the grin that broke free. "Awful sure of yourself, aren't you counselor?"

"With good reason." He reached out and cupped your face in one big, warm hand, his thumb stroking over your cheek so tenderly it made your breath hitch. "After all, I have it on very good authority that you've been pining for me. Yearning, even."

"Oh, is that so?" You leaned into his touch, your skin sparking at even this simple contact. 

God, you'd missed him. 

Missed this easy back and forth, the simmering tension that always stretched between you.

"Mhm." He dipped his head, his nose brushing against yours, his breath fanning hot over your parted lips. "A little birdie might have mentioned something about you sighing wistfully and doodling my name in hearts all over your notes. Very high school of you, by the way."

You huffed, giving his chest a playful shove even as you felt your face heat up. "In your dreams."

"Mm, always." His other hand found your hip, fingers slipping under the hem of your skirt to stroke over the smooth, sweaty skin there. "But looks like reality's even better this time around."

Your breath hitched, need spiking through you sudden and sharp. Your hands fisted in his shirt, tugging him closer, wanting to feel more of his heat. "Satoru," you warned, but it came out breathy, wanting. "We're in public. Anyone could see..."

"Fuck it, let them," he said, his grip tightening on your hip, his eyes going dark and intense in a way that made your knees weak. "Let the whole damn world know who you belong to. How fucking gone I am for you."

You nearly moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair, torn between dragging him closer and pushing him away. "But I can't suck you off in public now, can I?" 

"Fuckin' tease. You're going to pay for that.”

"Mm, can't wait. But for now, I've still got practice to finish up."

"Look at you, being all responsible." His lips trailed down your neck, making you shiver. 

"I mean, if I'm gonna go pro, I can't slack off, right?"

He pulled back a little to look you in the eye, his smile going soft. "You're really serious about that, huh? Going pro?"

You shrugged, feeling suddenly shy under the warmth of his gaze. "Yeah, I mean...it's not like, a totally crazy dream, right?"

"Not even a little bit, love. You can do anything you set your mind to. And I'll be right there in the front row, cheering you on every step of the way."

God, the sincerity in his voice, the absolute faith shining in his eyes. It made your throat go tight and your heart feel like it was ten sizes too big for your chest.

"Satoru, you..."

"—are incredible? I know," he cut in with a cheeky grin.

You just smiled, a soft, tender thing that felt too big for your face. 

Yeah, he really was incredible. 

He smiled in return, leaning in to press a quick, sweet kiss to the tip of your nose. "Now, what do you say, we see if I remember how to swing a racket, hm? I'll even let you beat me, since you've been practicing so hard and all."

"Oh, you'll let me beat you? That's adorable. Try to keep up, old man. I remember you playing real bad.”

“Oh, is that so?” 

“Pretty bad, yeah.” You grinned, giving his chest a little shove with your racket. "Bring it, counselor. First to five wins and the loser owes the winner any favor of their choosing."

Satoru's smile was slow, wicked. "Any favor, huh? Dangerous words, love. You sure you wanna give me that kind of power? I might make you regret it later."

"Or maybe I'll make you eat those words," you teased, already backing towards your side of the court, adrenaline buzzing through your veins. "Guess we'll just have to see how it plays out."

"Brat.” He shook his head, huffing out a laugh as he moved into position. "Alright, challenge accepted. Just remember—" His grin turned downright feral. "When I win? And I will win, I'm gonna collect on that favor so hard, you won't be able to walk straight for a week."

A shiver chased down your spine, your core clenching at the blatant heat in his gaze. But you just smiled, slow and sure, adrenaline already thrumming through your veins.

This. 

Him. 

The push and pull, the electric charge that always crackled between you — god, it was everything. Invigorating and addictive and so, so right.

"Oh, I'm counting on it, counselor.” You bounced lightly on your toes as you readied your first serve. With a wide smile, you tossed the ball skyward. And then the sharp thwack of the ball as it met your strings, the satisfying smack as it hit the court on his side.

Game fucking on.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You did win, of course.

And Satoru wasted no time in making good on his forfeit.

"Fuck, don’t stop," you panted, your hips rolling shamelessly against his face, "feels so fucking good."

Satoru’s hands were firmly on your hips as you rode his face. Your core gliding over his lips and tongue, painting his face with your arousal. The obscene wet sounds of him licking and suckling filled the room, mingling with your breathy moans and sighs.

Satoru licked and sucked and nibbled at your clit, alternating between broad, flat strokes of his tongue and delicate flicks over your throbbing nub. He explored every inch, delving into your tight core and fucking you with the slick muscle until you were keening and thrashing above him.

Your hands moved from the headboard to his hair, tangling in the soft white strands, holding him in place as you started to move faster, grinding your clit against his nose, his chin, his lips.

"Satoru," you chanted mindlessly. "God, yes, just like that. Don't stop, don't fucking stop, I can’t—ah."

He groaned long and low, the sound muffled against your core, and doubled his efforts. His tongue delved deep, curling inside you in a maddening motion that made your vision blur at the edges. His nose rubbed your clit with every rock and grind of your hips, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Without warning, he pressed two thick fingers into your clenching heat, curling forward to rub over that spot just how you liked it. At the same time, Satoru sealed his lips around your clit and sucked.

It was too much, too intense. 

Your orgasm that had been building at the base of your spine, in the quivering pit of your stomach, exploded outwards. You bucked and writhed on his face, practically screaming as pure bliss crashed through you, pulsing out from your core in searing waves. Your core spasmed around his fingers, gushing release over his chin and his nose.

Through it all, Satoru worked you mercilessly, his mouth and hand never faltering, wringing out every last shudder until you collapsed forward, clinging weakly to the headboard. Your thighs trembled on either side of his head, shiny and sticky with your spend, the occasional residual clench making you whimper.

"Holy shit," you managed, still panting. "I'm so fucking glad you suck at tennis."

"Ouch," he said with a laugh. "I'd say I scored at least one point there."

"Yeah, because I let you.”

"Double ouch.”

Slowly, carefully, he eased you off his face and back onto the bed, shifting to hover over you on his elbows. His cheeks and chin were drenched, glistening with your release. 

You reached out to swipe a thumb over his slick skin, wiping away some of the mess you'd made. "You've got a little something there.”

"Oh, do I?" He turned his head to nip playfully at your finger, his tongue darting out to lick your arousal from the digit. "Hmm, wonder what that could be. Certainly not the evidence of you coming apart on my tongue. Multiple times, even. But who's counting?"

"Smug doesn't suit you, Satoru.”

He chuckled, low and warm, then sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. You watched as he stood and stretched, the lean muscles of his back rippling under perfect skin. He was completely unselfconscious in his nudity, utterly at ease with your heated gaze tracing over every inch of him.

Satoru padded across your dorm room, his footsteps silent on the thin carpet. He came to a stop in front of your bookshelf, his head tilting as he examined the various trophies and medals displayed there.

"Impressive collection you've got here.” He reached out to pick up a particularly shiny trophy, turning it over in his hands. "This from the championship last year?"

You sat up, hugging the sheet to your chest. “Yeah, that was a hell of a match. Went to three sets, thought my lungs were going to give out on me by the end of it."

He hummed, setting the trophy back in its place with care. "I remember. I was stuck in a conference room, listening to some blowhard drone on about market fluctuations, but all I could think about was you. Must've refreshed the score update page a hundred times, nearly wore out my phone battery."

Your heart stumbled in your chest, your breath catching. "You...you kept up with my matches? Even when you were abroad?"

Satoru glanced over his shoulder at you, his eyes warm and bright in the golden afternoon light filtering through your blinds. “Of course I did. I've always admired your determination and drive, ever since you started college and made it clear tennis was your dream. You think I could focus on anything else when I knew you were out there absolutely crushing it on the court?"

Your heart raced. The idea of him, thousands of miles away, still cheering you on, still invested in your passion, your success—

It meant more than you could ever put into words.

"You know, it was strange for me, seeing you again after so long," Satoru admitted, trailing his fingers absently over a polaroid photo that lay beside your trophies — you, sweaty and beaming, holding a massive trophy aloft. "You'd grown into this incredible, self-assured athlete.” He turned to look at you. “Who would have thought we'd end up like this one day?"

"Not me, that's for sure. But just to be clear, I was always an incredible, self-assured athlete. You've just gotten old, Satoru. I mean, is your hair even more white than before or is it just me?"

"And here I thought I was being sweet."

You smiled slowly. "You are. Kinda."

He raised an eyebrow. "Kinda? Just kinda? Damn, tough crowd."

You grinned, stretching languorously against the pillows. "Can't let that ego get too big, or your head won't fit through the door."

"Oh, I think we both know it's not my head you need to worry about fitting, love.”

"You're ridiculous. Why do I put up with you again?"

Satoru walked back over to the bed, leaning down until he was hovering over you, his face mere inches from yours. "Don't even try to pretend you don't love it.”

"In your dreams.”

He cupped your face in his large, calloused hand, his thumb stroking tenderly over your cheekbone before he dipped his head to press a soft kiss to your mouth and you immediately melted into him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, your body arching up to meet his, before you tugged him down onto the mattress.

The kiss deepened, growing wetter, hotter, more urgent. Satoru's tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and when you parted for him, it was with a low, needy moan that made his lips move even greedier against yours.

His hand slid from your face to tangle in your hair, his fingers twisting in the strands as he tilted your head just right to deepen the kiss. His body pressed closer, heavier, his knees pushing your thighs apart as he settled between your legs.

"Not so fast," you breathed against his lips, your hands splayed across his firm chest. With a deft twist of your hips, you rolled him beneath you in one swift motion, straddling his waist.

Satoru blinked up at you, momentarily stunned. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a knowing smirk, his large hands coming to rest on your bare thighs, his thumbs stroking circles over your skin. 

"Oh, so you wanna take control now, huh? Be the boss?"

"Please, you know you love it when I'm on top." Your hips began a slow, teasing grind against the rigid length of him nestled between your thighs. 

Satoru's breath hitched, his fingers digging into your thighs as you circled your hips just right, the slick drag of your wet core sliding over his aching cock. "You flatter me, love, because I lose my mind in any position with you. But you know, two can play this game."

His hands suddenly shot to your hips, gripping bruisingly tight. With a sharp jerk and a low, purposeful grind, he rocked you against him hard, the pressure on your clit just shy of painful in the most delicious way.

You gasped, your back arching, your nails raking down his sweat-slicked chest. "Fuck, Satoru," you whimpered, your hips moving of their own accord, chasing the delicious friction. "Don't stop." 

"What happened to being in control, hm?"

"Oh, shut up”

Every drag of your slick folds over his thick length made you shiver and gasp, lit you up from the inside. You could see the desperation in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched and his chest heaved with each teasing glide of your hips. 

He looked so needy beneath you, his hands gripping your thighs painfully tight, his hips moving against yours, seeking more of your friction.

"So, when do you want to end this torture?" he asked.

"What, can't you take a little teasing?"

"Oh, I can, but right now, I'm losing my mind here. If you don't let me fuck you already—"

"Then do it," you say breathlessly, your own need reaching a fever pitch.

He didn’t need to hear more.

One broad palm abandoned your hip to notch underneath your thigh, spreading you wider as the other hand delved between your rocking bodies to grasp his shaft, lining the thick head up with your entrance.

With a moan, you sank down onto him, your body accepting the slow invasion inch by thick inch. When he bottomed out, when the coarse brush of his pelvis met your clit, you both groaned low and long, lost to the connection, the perfect completeness of your bodies finally joined.

"God, you feel so incredible," Satoru gritted out, his fingers digging into your hips as he fought the urge to simply buck up into you, to set a bruising pace and chase his pleasure selfishly. "So damn tight and hot and perfect. Never gonna get over how good you take my cock."

"Fuck, Satoru," you panted. "You're so deep like this—"

Your babbling dissolved into a whimpering keen as he moved his hips, grinding the thick root of him against your G-spot. You braced your hands on his sweat-slick chest and started to move, rising up until just the tip of him kissed your entrance before slamming back down, a scream catching in your throat at the maddening stretch of him.

"Just like that," Satoru urged breathlessly, his neck corded with strain, his teeth sunk into his lower lip as he watched you bounce on his cock through a haze of desperate lust. "Ride me, love. Take this dick, milk me fucking dry. Wanna feel you come on me, soak my cock in it, fucking ruin me."

Your movements grew faster, more desperate, your cries becoming higher pitched and broken as you chased your rapidly approaching climax. 

Suddenly, Satoru sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. The shift in angle made you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly for balance as he sank even deeper inside you.

"Fuck, Satoru," you whimpered. “Feel so good—"

"Shhh, I've got you." One large hand splayed across your lower back, the other tenderly cupping your cheek, his touch unexpectedly gentle. "I'll always have you, love. No matter what."

Then his hips started moving in a slow, rolling rhythm again, each thrust sending heat straight to your core, making you temporarily forget his sincere words. You clung to him, your foreheads pressed together, your breaths mingling in the narrow space between your lips.

"You're everything to me, you know that?" Satoru murmured softly.

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. 

But before you could fully process it, his hands slid down to grab your ass, grinding you harder against him. A gasp escaped your throat at the sudden increase in pace as you rolled your hips faster to meet his thrusts, your clit rubbing maddingly against him with every downward motion.

In one smooth move, Satoru rolled you both onto your sides, your back flush against his solid chest, still intimately joined. The new position made you moan out, the angle allowing him to sink even further into you.

"Please tell me we'll never stop doing this," he moaned, his lips on your ear.

“No, never, Satoru. God, please never stop.”

One muscular arm banded across your waist, holding you firmly against him as he started to move. His free hand reached up your sweat-slicked body to tighten around your throat, arching your head back to rest against his shoulder.

"Satoru," you panted, reaching back to thread your fingers through his hair, keeping him close as he trailed open-mouthed kisses along the column of your neck. "God, please never stop fucking me.”

"Never, love," he murmured against your skin, his hand drifting lower, fingertips ghosting over your quivering stomach. "I’m never gonna stop fucking you, wanna feel you come apart on my cock again and again until you can't take it anymore."

He rolled his hips just right, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your core clench. At the same time, his clever fingers found your aching center. A broken moan tore from your throat, your head falling back against his shoulder.

You were close, so fucking close.

But Satoru, god, he knew your body so well, knew exactly how to keep you riding that sweet, torturous edge without letting you fall. Every time you thought you couldn't possibly handle any more, he would change his angle or vary his rhythm, keeping you suspended in an endless loop of blissful torture that had you shaking and gasping his name.

“God, you take me so fucking good.” His teeth sank into the curve of your shoulder as the thick head of his cock slammed into you at that perfect angle. "You feel so amazing, so perfect around me, fuck, gonna fill you up so fuckin' full—"

His words were your undoing. 

With a sharp cry, your release crashed over you, your body clenching and pulsing around him as wave after wave consumed you. Your inner muscles clamped down on him, rippling and fluttering and milking his cock for all you were worth.

Satoru fucked you through it relentlessly, prolonging your pleasure until it bordered on pain, all while he chased his own release.

Without warning, Satoru flipped you over onto your stomach, his body covering yours as he pushed back inside you with a deep, almost desperate thrust. One of his hands snaked around to grip your throat lightly, his chest molding to your back as he set a punishing pace, driving into you with abandon.

"Oh fuck, love, I'm gonna—shit, you feel so fucking good—" His words dissolved into incoherent moans, his hips starting to lose their steady rhythm as his climax approached.

He pounded into you harder, faster, the force of his thrusts pushing you up the bed, your hands scrabbling for purchase on the sheets. And then, with a guttural groan, he let go, his release flooding you, painting your walls with his seed.

You could feel every twitch and throb of his cock as he emptied himself deep inside you, your own clenching core greedily milking him for every last drop.

For long, blissful moments, you simply shook and shuddered together, his cock still buried to the hilt, hearts pounding in sync. Satoru's arms tightened around you, his face buried between your shoulder blades, his ragged breaths gusting over your sweat-dampened skin.

"I swear it gets better every goddamn time,” he mused against your lips. “Never gonna get enough of you, never gonna stop craving the way you feel around me.”

You huffed, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the sudden tightness in your chest. "Yeah, you've really ruined me for all other dicks, just so you know." You turned your head to catch his eyes.

A slow smile spread across his face. He straightened up, his hands wandering over the curve of your ass before delivering a light, playful spank.

“Hey!" you yelped.

Grinning unrepentantly, he leaned down and playfully bit one of your buttocks. "God, I can't wait to see this ass in your little tennis skirts again," he growled, soothing the sting with a kiss.

"What, that gets you all hot and bothered?"

"Yeah, totally. I'm hard the second you shimmy into one of those tiny things."

"Well, good thing you'll be seeing me in them a lot more often then.”

"I’m counting on it. Can’t wait to see you in those skirts winning matches all over the world.”

You bit your lip, a sudden wave of uncertainty crashing over you. "Dad wants me to have a backup plan, you know? In case the whole tennis thing doesn't pan out."

"And since when do you give a fuck what he thinks?" Satoru challenged, his fingers trailing up your spine, making you shiver.

"Fair point," you conceded, your lips twitching. But the smile faded quickly, replaced by a frown. "I mean, It's a nice dream, but...what are the odds, really? It's not exactly a realistic goal."

Slowly, gently, he slipped out of you, both of you moaning at the loss of contact. He pulled you close, tucking you into the curve of his body like you belonged there.

"Says who?" he demanded, his voice fierce, almost angry. "You're incredible. You have just as much chance as anyone else, if not more so. You shouldn't give up on your dreams just because the path isn't easy."

Your heart clenched, your throat suddenly tight. "You really think I could do it?" you whispered, hating how small, how uncertain you sounded.

"I know you could." He cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking over your bottom lip with a tenderness that made your breath catch. "You're so strong, love. On the court and off. When you set your mind to something, nothing can stand in your way. It's one of the things I lo—" He caught himself, clearing his throat roughly. "One of the things I admire most about you."

Your heart stuttered at his little slip, at the unspoken four-letter-word lingering in the air between you. But you pushed it aside, convinced you must have misheard him. There was no way he was about to say what you thought he was—right?

No, it couldn't be. 

This thing between you, it was just physical. Just a bit of fun, a way to blow off steam. You needed to remember that, needed to cling to that truth like a lifeline.

You swallowed hard.

"I mean it, love," Satoru continued softly, his hand coming up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "You should look at schools with top tennis programs. Places with the right coaches, the right resources to help you improve your skills and get noticed by the pros.”

"Yeah, I should," you said slowly.

"Wherever you want to go, I'm with you. But please, just choose a university with a remotely decent law firm nearby. Otherwise, I'm gonna be bored as fuck.”

Your heart stopped. 

You pushed back from him slightly, needing space, needing air. "What? Why?" you croaked, certain you'd misheard, misunderstood. Because surely he couldn't mean—

God, he couldn't—he didn't really—

Did he?

Conflicting emotions crashed through you, painful in their intensity. Disbelief and wonder, longing and panic, hope and fear, and a strange, bubbling rush that felt dangerously close to—

No. 

No, it was too soon, too much. 

This thing between you, it was just physical. Just a casual affair, a temporary outlet for the attraction that crackled between you.

Wasn't it?

"I thought this was casual between us," you said.

As his words hung in the air between you, a flicker of something raw and vulnerable passed over Satoru’s features before he could mask it with casual nonchalance. For a moment, he looked almost — wounded. 

As if your dismissal of this thing between you had struck a physical blow, knocking the air from his lungs and the hope from his heart.

But you couldn't let yourself dwell on it, couldn't let the ache in your chest sway you from your chosen path. Because this—tennis, your future, your dreams—it was everything. The driving force that had gotten you through countless early mornings and grueling practices, through blisters and bruises and the bone-deep exhaustion that came with pushing your body to its limits day after day.

It was your passion, your purpose. 

The one thing in your life that made sense, that gave you direction and drive.

You had to choose.

And as much as it killed you, as much as it felt like ripping your own heart out with your bare hands—

You knew which choice you had to make. Which path you had to take, no matter how steep and lonely it might be. Because tennis was your future. Your purpose, your calling, the one thing you'd built your entire identity around.

And Satoru — god, Satoru was a beautiful dream.

But he was only a dream.

And you can’t chase two dreams.

God, this was so fucking unfair. So cruel and confusing and utterly, devastatingly unfair.

Because you wanted him. Wanted him so badly it felt like a physical ache, a hollow void in the center of your chest that only his touch, his kiss, his love could fill.

But you wanted tennis too.

Wanted tennis more.

And you couldn't risk it.

Because falling for him, letting yourself want more than stolen moments and secret meetings — it was a distraction. A beautiful, tempting, utterly destructive distraction.

"I need to focus on my training, you know? I can't afford any...complications right now,” you said quietly.

Satoru's eyes closed for a second, his jaw clenching as if he were physically biting back the words that wanted to spill out. When he opened them again, his gaze was shuttered, unreadable.

"Yeah, you're right. You should focus on your career, on getting everything you want out of life.” Satoru cleared his throat, his hand sliding down to grip your hip, his thumb tracing idle patterns on your sweat-cooled skin. "Well then, Now that we've got that settled...what do you say we move on to more pressing matters?"

"Pressing...matters?"

Satoru's smile sharpened. "Mhm. Like round three...or is it four now? I've lost count."

Your breath caught in your throat as he settled between your parted thighs, the thick, heavy weight of his length pressing against your entrance. 

"Satoru," you managed, your hands coming up to grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin. "I think we—"

"Shh," he interrupted, his gaze so intense that any reply died on your lips. "Don't speak. Just feel."

And then he was pushing forward, the broad head of his cock breaching your entrance, splitting you open inch by maddening inch until he bottomed out.

For a suspended moment, he held himself still, his forehead pressed to yours, his breath mingling with your own. And in that pause, that infinite stretch of time, something shifted between you. 

When he started to move, it was with a desperate urgency, a possessive edge that bordered on rough. His kisses turned bruising, almost punishing, his fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks, to brand you as his own.

It was hot and messy, frantic and almost frightening in its intensity. 

He fucked you like he was trying to imprint himself on every inch of your skin, to make you his in a way that went far beyond the physical. Like he knew, with a brutal, aching certainty, that he would never have the chance to touch you like this again. 

Never feel your heat, your softness, the perfect give of your body beneath his own.

And despite yourself, despite the sickening knowledge that this would only make things harder in the end — you wanted it. 

Wanted him, all of him, in a way that defied logic and reason. 

Even if it was selfish, even if it would hurt him more in the long run, you couldn't bring yourself to stop. Couldn't deny yourself this one last taste of paradise, this fleeting glimpse of a future you knew you could never have.

So you clung to him, your hands scrabbling over the sweat-slick expanse of his back, your legs winding around his waist to pull him deeper, harder. 

You let him take you apart with ruthless precision, let him wring cry after broken cry from your lips as he pounded into you again and again, chasing oblivion, chasing connection, chasing the impossible dream of forever.

Even if it was just for one night.

Later, as you lay tangled together in the sheets, your body aching and spent. He gathered you close and held you like he never wanted to let go. Like he could keep you there, in the circle of his arms, in the warmth of his bed, if he just held on tight enough.

He stayed the night, his face buried in the crook of your neck as you drifted off to sleep. 

But when you woke the next morning, he was gone. 

The sheets were cold beside you, the indentation of his head on the pillow the only sign he'd ever been there at all. 

A note on the nightstand said something had come up at work.

He was a terrible liar.

And could you blame him, really? After all, you'd been the one to set the terms, to draw the lines. You'd been the one to put your career, your ambition, your lifelong dream ahead of your heart. Ahead of him.

So what right did you have to feel betrayed, to feel abandoned, when he was just following your lead?

No right at all. 

But that didn't stop the ache in your chest.

But it was too late now.

You'd made your choice. 

And it wasn't him.

No matter how badly you wished it could be.

Game. Set.

Goodbye.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

In the weeks that followed, life returned to its usual rhythms. 

Classes, practice, the endless cycle of drills and conditioning that made up your days. You threw yourself into your training with a single-minded focus, determined to chase your dreams, to reach the pinnacle of your sport.

But even as you went through the motions, even as you pushed your body to its limits and lost yourself in the familiar burn of exertion — something felt off. 

Different, in a way you couldn't quite put your finger on.

It was like a constant itch beneath your skin, a restless energy that had you tossing and turning at night, your mind churning with thoughts you couldn't seem to quiet. Thoughts of him, of the way he'd touched you, tasted you, the way he'd looked at you.

You couldn't seem to shake the memory of his hands on your skin, his lips on your neck. The way he'd held you, like you were something precious, something cherished.

Like you were his everything.

And god, how you ached for it. How you longed for his touch, his presence. For the easy banter and the heated glances, the way he could make you laugh even as he set your blood on fire.

For the way he made you feel seen, known. Understood, in a way no one else ever had. Like he could look into your eyes and see straight to your soul, to the heart of you. Like he knew you, inside and out.

But he was busy, consumed by his work. 

At least, that's what he told you.

Not that you had a right to complain.

You’d made your choice, and now you had to live with it. Tennis was your dream, your passion, and you couldn't let anything or anyone distract you from that. 

Not even him. 

You buried yourself in your training, in the familiar rhythms of the court. In the thwack of the ball against your racket, the burn of your muscles as you pushed yourself harder, faster. 

As you chased the high of victory, the rush of dominance. The sweet satisfaction of a point well-played, a match well-won.

But even as you poured your heart out on the court, even as you fought for every point, every game, every set — you couldn't escape your own head. The doubts, the second-guesses, the nagging sense that maybe, just maybe, you had made a terrible mistake. 

That in choosing your dream, you had lost something far more precious. And slowly, inevitably, you began to realize.

But god, there were so many reasons why you shouldn't.

He was so much older than you. 

He was your father's best friend.

And then there was your career, your dream. 

The goal you'd been chasing since you first picked up a racket, the future you'd sacrificed so much for. Could you really risk it all, put it all on the line for a man you'd only just begun to really know, to love?

Your head said no. 

Said it was too reckless.

That you had worked too hard, come too far, to throw it all away now. 

But your heart—

Oh your treacherous heart, whispered a different story. Whispered that maybe, just maybe, he was worth the risk. Worth the sacrifice.

And so, torn between your head and your heart, you found yourself at a crossroads. Caught between the dream you had always chased and the love you had never expected to find. 

So with a deep breath and a racing heart, you made your decision.

Heart over head.

For the very first time in your life.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

You stood outside Satoru's office, heart pounding in your chest as you raised your hand to knock on the door. The seconds seemed to drag on forever before you finally heard his voice, muffled but unmistakable, calling out, "Yeah, come on in."

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. Satoru glanced up from his desk, his eyes widening. "Wha—What are you doing here?"

You held up a small, prettily wrapped box. "I brought you macarons.”

"Oh, uh...thanks, that's really sweet. But I've got a meeting coming up soon, and I'm not sure now's the best time, you know?"

You walked further into the room, letting the door swing shut behind you with a soft click. "Yeah, I know. I checked with your secretary about your schedule."

"You did?” 

“Yeah.” You walked towards him, setting the box of macarons down on his desk. "I wanted to talk to you."

He leaned back in his leather chair, his eyes searching your face, like he was trying to read between the lines. "You know your dad's got an office here too, right? If he sees us together, he's gonna be—"

"I know," you interrupted. "That's why I asked for his schedule too. Looks like we’ve got at least 30 minutes to ourselves, give or take."

Silence fell over the room like a heavy blanket, as you stared at each other across the expanse of his desk. Your heart was a wild thing in your chest, your palms clammy with nerves and anticipation.

"I'm going to Stanford," you blurted out.

Satoru blinked. "I thought you were set on Princeton."

"But Stanford's got better law firms.”

His brow furrowed, confusion written all over his unfairly handsome face. "But what's that got to do with—"

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage, your resolve. And then you stepped around the desk, coming to stand before him, so close you could feel the heat of his body, the whisper of his breath against your skin.

"Move there with me," you said.

His brows furrowed. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying...I want you. Want this, want us. Together, for real. Not just for sex, but...but a real relationship.”

His eyes went wide, his mouth falling open in shock. For a second, he just stared at you, like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Like he thought maybe he was dreaming, or hallucinating, or—

"Are you serious? You really want that? Want...us?"

“Yes.”

"Are you sure?" he asked again, as if he's genuinely not able to believe it, hesitant even as his hands came up to settle on your hips, to tug you closer. "Because if we do this, if we go down this road...there's no going back.”

You nodded, your fingers sliding into his hair, anchoring him to you. "I'm sure. I'm all in, Satoru.”

He let out a shaky breath, his hands tightening on your hips. And then he was surging up, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that seared your very soul, that branded you as his own. 

You melted into him, into the heat and strength of his body, the desperate clutch of his hands on your waist. Into the slick slide of his tongue against yours, the nip of his teeth on your bottom lip. Into the sheer, overwhelming rightness of being in his arms, of being wholly and completely his. 

Body, heart, and soul.

And as you lost yourself in him, in the taste and feel and perfect inevitability of loving him — you knew.

Knew that this was where you belonged, where you were always meant to be. 

In his arms, in his heart.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your arms winding around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair. Tugging him closer, ever closer, until there was no space left between your bodies. Until you were pressed against him from chest to hip.

He walked you backwards, never breaking the kiss, until you felt the edge of his desk digging into your backside. Without breaking the kiss, he lifted you effortlessly, settling you on the edge of his desk.

Papers scattered, pens clattered to the floor, but neither of you paid any mind. 

You gasped into his mouth, your legs parting instinctively to make room for him between them. He stepped into the cradle of your hips like he belonged there, like he'd finally found his way home.

Like you were his missing piece, his perfect fit. 

Frantic hands tugged at clothing, desperate for the feel of skin on skin. Your fingers made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing the fabric off his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor, baring the smooth expanse of his chest to your touch.

Satoru's own hands were just as busy, slipping beneath the hem of your top and skimming up your sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You lifted your arms, allowing him to strip the fabric over your head and toss it aside.

"God, you're beautiful," he rasped, one hand coming up to trace the curve of your cheek, to tangle in your hair. "So fucking beautiful, it hurts to look at you sometimes."

Your heart stuttered, emotion welling up thick and fast in your throat. "Satoru," you whispered, your own hands sliding up his arms, over the strong, solid breadth of his shoulders. "You know we don’t have much time, remember?."

“Yeah, you’re right.”

He claimed your mouth again, his kiss hot and deep and filled with barely restrained need. Hasty hands fumbled with the fastenings of pants, shoving fabric down and out of the way with an almost frantic urgency. 

And then he was stepping between your spread thighs, the hot, heavy weight of his erection pressing against your core, parting you, teasing you. You wrapped your legs around him, hooking your ankles at the small of his back to urge him closer. 

“You know, family dinners are going to be really awkward from now on."

"God, Satoru, don't say that now—" you began, but your words cut off on a sharp gasp as he surged forward, his hard length sliding home in one smooth, powerful thrust.

As Satoru thrust into you, each deep stroke hitting that perfect spot inside you, it struck you just how right this felt. Despite the age difference, despite how unconventional your relationship was, being with him like this — it was like coming home. 

Like your bodies were made to fit together, two halves of a whole.

It wasn't just the physical pleasure, though god knows there was plenty of that. It was the way he looked at you, the way he touched you, like you were the most precious thing in his world. The way he made you feel cherished, adored, safe and wanted and so incredibly loved.

He was your home, your heart, your everything.

"Satoru," you suddenly gasped out. "I love you."

His rhythm faltered, his eyes flying to yours. For a second you panicked, thinking you'd scared him off, ruined the moment. But then a slow, beautiful smile spread across his face, his gaze so full of tenderness it took your breath away.

"I love you too," he rasped. "God, you have no idea how much. I'm so fucking in love with you."

He leaned down to kiss you, messy and desperate, pouring all his love and longing into the press of his lips. You kissed him back just as fiercely, and soon you were both moving again, chasing that peak together.

It wasn't going to be easy, you knew that. 

There would be plenty of people who wouldn't understand, who would judge and condemn. But wrapped up in his arms, lost in the bliss of his body moving with yours, none of that seemed to matter.

This was right. 

This was real. 

This love you shared, it was the kind that could weather any storm, overcome any obstacle. As long as you had each other, you could face anything.

It wouldn't be a conventional life, by any means. But it would be yours. Yours and his, together. And really, that's all that mattered.

Because in the end, love was worth fighting for. And this love? This crazy, complicated, wonderful, once-in-a-lifetime love?

It was everything.

── ࣪˖  ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

"You nervous?" 

Satoru's voice pulled you back from your thoughts, his sky blue eyes framed by snowy lashes capturing your attention. For a moment, you forgot how to breathe, lost in his gaze, but then you inhaled deeply, centering yourself. 

Nervous?

You considered the question, searching within for the telltale flutter of butterflies, the icy clench of anxiety. But there was only calm, a steely determination, and a quiet confidence in your abilities.

"No," you replied, a hint of surprise in your voice. "I'm not, actually."

Your eyes wandered back to the court, where the final preparations were underway. The electric atmosphere enveloped you, the excitement of the crowd palpable in the air. This was it — the Wimbledon final, the culmination of years of blood, sweat, and tears. 

Turning back to Satoru, you shook your head. "I should be though, right? I mean, it's the Wimbledon final. Feel like I should be nervous."

Satoru's smile was warm and proud, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek. "You don't have to be anything you don't want to be. If you're not nervous, then that's okay. Trust your instincts, trust all the work you've put in. You've got this."

"Thank you," you whispered, leaning into his touch. "For being here, for always believing in me. I couldn't have done this without you."

"Yes, you could have. You're the strongest, most resilient person I know. But I'm damn lucky I get to be here to watch you shine."

Your lips twitched into a faint smile.

Footsteps approached, and you turned to see your dad, a water bottle in hand and a slightly anxious furrow between his brows. "Hey, champ," he said, handing you the water. "How you holding up? Nerves kicking in yet?" 

Before you could answer, Satoru chimed in, a playful grin on his face. "She hasn't decided yet. But either way, she's got this. Our girl's a champion, through and through." 

You shot him a look, cursing him a little for his choice of words.

Your dad's gaze flickered between you, and for a moment, you braced yourself for the inevitable awkwardness, the unspoken judgment. But then he smiled, warm and genuine, and clapped Satoru on the shoulder. 

"Damn right she is," he agreed, his voice filled with pride. "And we're here to support her every step of the way."

And in that exact moment, looking into their eyes, filled with unwavering belief, you knew one thing for sure — even if you lost today, you'd already won in all the ways that truly mattered. 

And really, what could be better than that?

Then, the announcement came for the players to take their positions. 

Satoru turned to you. "Alright, love, this is it. Time to show the world what you're made of. Get out there and crush it, yeah? You've got this." 

You nodded. "Yeah, let's do this."

Satoru's answering smile was proud and just a little wicked. He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around your waist as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. Melting into him, your mouth opened under his as the kiss deepened, turning hot and hungry. 

His tongue swept into your mouth, tangling with yours in a dance that set your blood on fire, nearly making you moan into his mouth, forgetting, for just a moment, where you were and what you were about to do.

A pointed cough from your dad broke the spell. Satoru pulled back with a roguish grin, wholly unrepentant. 

You were breathing hard, your lips tingling and your heart racing, but there was no nervousness, no uncertainty. Only the bone-deep knowledge that you were exactly where you were meant to be, doing exactly what you were born to do.

Satoru's hands slid down to your hips, his touch lingering, electric. "Go get them, love." 

You flashed him a final smile, then turned to make your way onto the court. Satoru's hand found your ass one last time to give you a playful, proprietary slap as you walked away. You didn't see it, but you were sure your dad gave him a death glare for that.

The sun peeked through the clouds as you strode forward, the place buzzing with energy. 

It was the finale, and you'd be lying if you said it didn't feel like a dream come true. People screaming your name, the realization that you were really here, in this moment, living your passion.

As you took your place on the baseline, racket in hand, stretching one last time, adrenaline singing through your veins, you risked a final glance over to the sidelines. 

Satoru was watching you, his gaze intense and full of so much love and pride it took your breath away. When he caught your eye, he winked.

Your dad rolled his eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. "Will I ever get used to seeing you two like this?" he asked, the question directed at his lifelong best friend, but also, perhaps, at himself.

Satoru chuckled, his eyes still trained on you. "You're getting better. I remember the first few months, you constantly looked like you were about to lose your shit and murder me in my sleep. But you're managing okay now."

"Yeah, I still can't quite believe it. My best friend and my daughter… I'm not sure I'll ever fully come to terms with it."

"I know it's unconventional. I know it's not what you would have chosen for her. But I swear to you, I love that girl with everything I have. I'd do anything for her, be anything she needs me to be. She's it for me. The one."

Your dad was silent for a long moment, his gaze tracking your progress across the court. "I know you do. And that's the only reason I haven't killed you yet." 

Satoru barked out a laugh. "Well, thank you for your restraint.”

"Seriously though," your dad continued. "She's happy. Happier than I've ever seen her. And that's all that matters to me." 

They both watched as you stepped onto the court, your head held high. You began your pre-match routine, circling your wrists to loosen up. Your eyes were already locked on your opponent across the net.

As you moved through your stretches, reaching down to touch your toes, twisting at the waist, rolling your shoulders, Satoru's gaze never wavered from your form. A slow smile spread across his face as he watched you.

"Will you accept the offer they gave you?"

"Huh?" Satoru responded distractedly, his focus still on you.

"The offer to lecture at Stanford.”

"Oh, right," Satoru said, finally tearing his gaze away from you to look at Suguru. He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, maybe. I haven't really decided yet."

Your dad huffed out a laugh. "You're probably the only person in the world who would even consider turning down an honor like that."

Satoru chuckled, his attention drifting back to you as you took your position on the court. "Ah, you know I never cared about prestige. And to be honest, I'm currently enjoying being a tennis husband. There's still so many places we haven't explored together, you know?"

"You're not a husband yet, though," your dad pointed out.

"Am I not?" Satoru grinned, fumbling with the back pocket of his pants. He pulled out a small case and held it up for Suguru to see, flipping it open.

Suguru's eyes widened. "You serious?"

Satoru's smile only grew wider, his gaze drifting back to you on the court. "I'm gonna ask her after she wins."

"And what if she doesn't win?"

A laugh escaped Satoru's lips. "C'mon, we both know she's got this in the bag."

Your dad was quiet for a long moment, his gaze distant and thoughtful as he watched the shiny ring in the case. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "I'm damn glad she has you, Satoru. I really am. Even if you are a pain in the ass sometimes."

Satoru blinked rapidly. "Wow. That's maybe the nicest thing you've ever said to me. I'm touched, truly."

"Yeah, well, don't let it go to your head," Suguru grumbled. "You know I'll still kill you if you hurt her."

"Yeah, figured," Satoru grinned, slipping the ring box back into his pocket. "But trust me, that's never gonna happen."

"Good."

Satoru watched you for a moment, then turned to Suguru once more. "By the way, should I've asked you for permission or something? You know, since you're her dad and all."

Suguru rolled his eyes. "Don't make this any weirder than it already is."

"I can start calling you dad from now on, right? Or maybe pops? What do you think?"

"Absolutely not. Don't even think about it."

"Aw, come on," Satoru pushed, his grin growing wider. "We're practically family now, right? I mean, I'm going to be your son-in-law soon."

"Satoru..." Suguru warned, his tone dangerous.

"Ooh, I know! How about father-in-law dearest? That's got a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

"I swear to god, Satoru, if you don't stop right now—"

"Okay, okay, fine," Satoru relented, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'll stop. But just so you know, I expect you to give a heartfelt speech at the wedding. Something about how you always knew I was the one for your little girl, even when we were kids."

Suguru stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached out and clapped a hand on Satoru's shoulder, his grip just a little too tight for comfort.

"Satoru," he said, his voice deceptively calm. "If you don't shut up right now, there will be no wedding because you'll be six feet under."

"Jeez, no need to get violent," Satoru said, wincing under Suguru's iron grip.

"Then not another word about being my son-in-law, got it?" Suguru smirked, releasing his hold on Satoru's shoulder. "Just promise me you'll make her happy."

"Always," Satoru said, rubbing his shoulder. "I swear it."

"Great. Now, let's watch the match, shall we?" Suguru said, returning to his composed self in a split second.

"Please," Satoru agreed, still massaging his shoulder as he turned his attention back to the court, back to you, ready to cheer you on to victory.

Because you both knew that no matter what challenges the future might bring, no matter where this crazy, beautiful life might take you—

As long as you had each other, you could handle anything.

And that? That was a pretty damn beautiful thing.

Game, set, love.

Forever.

<- prev chapter | completed ✓

author's note: wooooaaa here it is, the happy ever after for these two adorable idiots !! hope you enjoyed this fun short little story as much as i enjoyed writing it. so thank you for sticking with me and leaving all those lovely comments and messages, they always bring the biggest smile to my face !!

and please ignore any inaccuracies regarding american universities. i have no clue and just widly came up with things haha.

once again, thank you for reading, and i hope our paths cross again in another story. have the most wonderful day !! <3

🏷️ @alwaysfreakingout @gojoluvs @bbyxxm @myahfig4 @nanamis-baker

@reagan707 @corrupted-jp3g @starmapz @chilichopsticks @ri-sa20

@starlostwish @dra-ahsticlove @dollcest @uziwork @sxnkuna

@rideofthevalkyriess @alygator77 @moonlightlexie @snwvie @httparchives

@madaqueue @dabisdolly @s3r-en-d1p-ity @4y3sh4 @hachixko

@enaalespenai @sukunaspillow @browrm @fluttershyfangs @yoghurtbrand

@gojoful @levin4nami @lovebittenbyevans @sad-darksoul @tbzzluvr

@neo404 @lucilles-witchery @13psunnyday @nekonanamii @bunnystrm

@nazmeeehh @shennnaia @abiiebibie @assbutt-inlove-with-koreans

@stantwicr @zoeyflower @chanaaaannel @bunnisanblog @billiondollarworth

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[madridfangirl]

A Weekend in Ibiza - Part 1

(Jude Bellingham blurb)

(Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

1.3k words. Jude*female reader. Suggestive language in parts.

A/n - When we don't get Jude holiday content, we make shit up

.................................................................................

Ibiza had been your dream destination for as long as you could remember. Sun, clear blue waters, great vibe and amazing food - what more could a girl want.

So when you got a free Friday in the middle of a long work trip in Amsterdam, you lapped up the opportunity to spend three days of glorious July summer on the shores of this paradise. Decided to splurge a little with a fancy resort - 3 years in McKinsey post university had sucked your energy but also given you this wiggle room.

The resort was full to the brim, the staff called it peak summer rush. But you found a cute little spot at the seaside cafe, ordered an unhealthy burger with fries, sipped on sangria and drowned yourself in a novel.

Your peace was short lived. A waiter brought over a glass of some fancy red wine (you couldn’t even pronounce the name), along with a note on a tissue, and pointed in the direction of a large entourage occupying the reserved section of the cafe. 

‘Wanna join us?’

Irritated by the disruption, you adjusted your eyes in the sun to look in the direction the waiter was pointing at.

A man nodded at you, with a half-wave and a half-smile, beckoning you over. A very good-looking, bare-chested man, with an air about him, the kind who knew how hot he was. The irritation you felt was suddenly replaced by mild annoyance. 

You could tell he was famous, with the way the other tables kept looking in their direction. Particularly women. If it weren’t for the staff, some would have jumped the barrier to get to him.

‘Who is he, some supermodel or something?’

‘No ma’am. He’s Jude Bellingham, a very famous footballer.’

The said man was still looking at her, waiting for her move she presumed. 

She scribbled her response below his note & sent it back along with the wine.

‘Sorry - just need some alone time without any spotlight.’

He read the note, which was then snatched away by his mates, who teased him for being turned down. Coz it wasn’t a common occurrence. He usually got what he wanted. Who he wanted. 

Jude returned the playful banter, and jostled to get back the note, reading it again.

Did she not want the spotlight or did she not want him either? It was worth finding out.

The girl had caught his attention when he walked past her table earlier. Her cream lace kaftan, long brown hair, big eyes, caramel skin, purple danglers, and complete indifference to her surroundings - all lent an air of uniqueness & mystery to her. Plus, her turning him down made her more interesting. A challenge, which he relished. The others had been way too easy, especially now.

Meanwhile, you played with the hem of your kaftan, telling yourself you did the right thing. He was a stranger. A fancy footballer for crying out loud (gorgeousness notwithstanding). Plus his entourage icked you out for some reason.

The waiter returned with another note. And a choco fudge brownie. Your favourite.

‘Can I have your number? Promise you won’t regret it.’

You looked up & your eyes met. This time, he flashed a full smile. And you felt your resolve melt in real time. 

The idea of a little harmless conversation with him was oddly thrilling, you couldn’t deny. Plus you were on an international temp number, what’s the worst that could happen? Sangria provided some added liquid courage.

Two mins later, your phone flashed with an unknown number. God, pls don’t let him be dry. 

‘Thanks for the number.’

You could feel his gaze on yourself as you texted back. 

‘Thanks for not sauntering over here & turn all eyes on me.’

Jude chuckled to himself, as his friends looked at him oddly. 

‘Attention is a problem, then?’

‘Attention that would come with you or because of you is the problem.’

Just the thought of being splashed all over tabloids and social media was revolting. You wouldn’t know how to show up for work on Monday. Or face your family. 

‘What if I take that out of the equation?’

‘As in?’

‘We’re moving to a yacht in 10. Will be more private. Join us there?’

He wasn’t wasting any time. Cutting straight to the chase. She should have seen that coming, should have known that a conversation is not what he wanted.

‘Gonna have to pass. Have fun.’

Jude racked his brain at her response. Had he misread the situation in sensing her attraction & interest? 

‘Is there someone else?'

You laughed at the assumption & entitlement oozing out of those words. Did he really think the only reason a girl would say no to him is if she were with someone else? Maybe that’s the reality he lived in, but you weren’t gonna be a part of it. And he was gonna hear it loud and clear.

‘Look, I am not the right person for what you want.’

‘Yeah, and what’s that?’

‘A hook up? A romp around the yacht? Correct me if I am wrong.’

‘You’re not wrong.’

‘Well, there you go.’

‘Not fully right either.’

‘Urmm what?’

‘You are exactly the right person. I want you.’

‘And how did you figure that?’

‘Gimme 15 mins and I will show you how.’

Oh, you should be mad. Bursting with anger at his audacity. And you were. Somewhat. Well, you were trying to be.

You were burning up. Maybe coz the sun was too harsh.

Your hands were trembling. Maybe one too many sangrias. 

You turned in your seat, hiding from his line of sight, and adjusted your hat to further shield your face.

‘I said I don’t want this. Don’t want you.’

‘Lying to me or yourself?’

‘What’s your problem? Jeez why can’t you focus on the woman next to you, who’s been pathetically trying to climb into your lap?’

You regretted the message & the subtext as soon as you hit send. 

‘How about this? Tell me the real reason and I’d leave you alone.’

Not that you owed him any explanation, but he was making you nervous and you wanted to rid yourself of this feeing. Of him. 

‘I don’t do casual sex. Or one night stands. Never done them before. There, happy now?’

You gulped the entire remaining glass of sangria like cold water, as you waited for what you hoped (feared) would be his final response.

‘Appreciate the honesty. Gotta go, the yacht is waiting. And the girl too. Will fuck her now, picturing you.’

The glass dropped from your hand, falling on the table, thankfully not breaking. Gobsmacked, you blinked at the screen, half convinced you had hallucinated the whole thing. Coz how could any of this be real? You sat there in that blank state, lost to a myriad of emotions.

A period of time later (you had completely lost track), the ping from your phone brought you out of your reverie.

You stared at the now familiar number, convinced it was a temp one. No way he was gonna be this brash from his real number.

It was a photo with a caption. After hovering over the notification for a good while, you finally clicked on it.

The photo was of a tiny yacht bed, empty and messy. Completely undone. With the caption below.

‘Going for round 2 soon. Unless you wanna come claim your place.’

You ran to your room, unable to trust yourself in a public setup anymore, and quickly got under a cold shower. To stop your body from burning the way it did. To stop your mind from hyperventilating the way it did.

This boy was trouble. And he wasn’t giving up.

.......................................................................

There may or may not be a Part 2 here, depends on inspiration :)

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ I DON’T SMOKE kim chaewon x reader

↳ warnings richgirl!yn, read these two parts before this one if you haven’t already, aespa girlies coming in clutch, kazuha being amazing, everything is …., pov switch’s between yn and chaewon, swearing, mentions of this work

CHAEWON WASN'T GONNA LIE , she’s been trying to erase what happened the other day with her stupid decision to kiss yn from her mind.

what was she thinking? of course that wouldn’t make yn think she didn’t like her. it definitely bosted the girls ego and chaewon couldn’t stand it.

and today is a prime example of that.

“yn, if you don’t hurry up right now I’ll-”

“you’ll what kiss me?” the girl cut chaewon off flashing the leader a cocky smile, “shiver me timbers.”

“you should be glad, I’m actually getting ready faster than I usually do, if you guys would’ve let me install my own washroom this wouldn’t be a problem.”

chaewon shut her eyes and tried to calm down her breathing, how privileged can this girl get?

“you are insufferable,” chaewon said clenching her fists, “I’ll just see if yunjin is done with the other washroom.”

“yeah, you go do that, I’m gonna need like another hour,”

chaewon groan was heard as she left the washroom door way and went down the hall and yn couldn’t help but smile to herself at the sound, she found it amusing how worked up chaewon got, but it was all fun and games right? no way chaewon hated her that passionately.

yn wasn’t gonna lie, as much as she didn’t show it, she was getting pretty in her head about that kiss, she got the same feeling in her chest that she gets when she’s teasing chaewon when they kissed.

she always get’s that feeling in her chest when it comes to chaewon, but she’s learned to just shake it off, taking it as the thrill of not giving chaewon the satisfaction of seeing her hurt by her words.

because she wasn’t hurt, at least that’s what yn would tell herself.

yn wasn’t lying when she said she needed another hour, the girls were going out to lunch and to be honest outside of group activities yn didn’t hang out with the girls much, she mostly hung out with four certain girls under sm entertainment, but this time kazuha said she had to come, so here she is.

an hour has passed and yn still isn’t ready, she adjusted the headband on her head as she looked through the washroom to see if her eyeliner was in there, she hadn’t seen it since she leant to kazuha the other night.

she had her outfit and everything on but she just needed her eyeliner.

she headed outside the washroom, deciding it would be better to just ask kazuha where her eyeliner was, she could hear all the girls voices in the living room, probably waiting for her.

as she walked closer their muffled voices became more clear.

“she mentioned getting a washroom in her room again,” chaewons voice was clear, “it sounded so pretentious.”

yn couldn’t help but furrow her eyebrows at the leaders words, she mentioned how they didn’t let her get one, it wasn’t like she was complaining, at least she hoped it didn’t sound like she was.

she softened when she heard kazuha’s voice, “she was probably joking, you know yn, she loves getting on your nerves.”

“oh I know yn, she’s a spoiled brat.”

yn fidgeted at how chaewon voice sounded, she was ready to walk in there and put on a show and act like she didn’t hear the familiar words of chaewon’s but then she heard yunjin’s voice.

“did you hear about her being requested to be on one of nayeon sunbae’s new songs for her comeback, I heard her talking about it on the phone with ningning.”

yn cringed at the way yunjin’s voice sounded, was that her voice always sounded when she wasn’t around? she was planning on telling them the good news at lunch but she’s kinda glad she didn’t just hearing the sounds they made at yunjin’s words.

“that’s so good,” kazuha replied , “yn’s so talented of course they would reach out to her.” the girl said causing yn to smile a little, hearing her friends words but it’s completely wiped off by yunjin’s response.

“yeah….but,” yunjin trails off, “I wonder if her dad had something to do with it, I mean a member of twice asking for a collab?”

yn scrunched up her face, just listening to the girls words, her father has had nothing to do with her music, he was too focused on his business to care.

she wanted to leave and go back to her room, but she couldn’t find herself to move.

“yn’s been on high demand though,” kazuha says coming to yn’s defence, “everyone loves her, artists and the general public of course she’s gonna be asked to be on a song.”

“I’m kinda with yunjin,” sakura says, her and yn didn’t have the closet relationship but it still stung hearing her elders words, “yn has been on like four songs this year, and how many brands has she done stuff with? it’s gotta be-”

“daddy’s money.” chaewon finishes for sakura, “it’s obvious, the only people that I actually believe are obsessed with yn are the men in this country, they all see her as some sick joke, a toy that they can play with, just look at when we filmed knowing bros.”

yn clenched her fists at the mention of the show, that day was humiliating, she was glad that karina came to her rescue because if not, she didn’t know what she would do.

yunjin laughed at the memory, “that joke was kinda funny though, yn can be on the slow side sometimes.”

her words made eunchae giggle, “yeah that was funny.” she said copying yunjin’s words.

“that was not funny at all.” kazuha said her voice firm, “they were making fun of her, like some sick joke.”

“is it a joke if it’s true?” chaewon said with amusement in her tone, “yn isn’t the brightest star.”

yn couldn’t believe she was here listening to her members trash talk her like this, while they think she’s in the other room, if could physically let herself cry she would right now, but she can’t, she won’t embarrass herself like that.

“yn went to one of most prestigious schools to exist, no idol has ever been to that school,” kazuha says coming to yn’s defence again.

“and who do you think got her into the school?” chaewon asked, “daddy of course.”

the girls laughed at chaewon’s words, “I honestly think she was kinda sensitive during knowing bros, she didn’t laugh at one joke.”

“why would she?” kazuha said yn could hear the annoyance in her friends voice, “the whole show was just them sexualizing her and making fun of her.”

“oh, stop being dramatic.” both sakura and yunjin said at the same time.

is it dramatic to say yn was in shock at her members words, did they have no sympathy? that was one of the worst days of yn’s life, the whole time she was just treated horribly while everyone laughed, she can bet if it was one of the other girls they wouldn’t have found it amusing.

she can remember the day like yesterday, as soon as they got back to the dorms yn and called one of her dads drivers go drive her to aespa’s dorms, telling them what happened, and they sure didn’t find it amusing like her members did.

her nails were starting to create marks in her hands as she listened to girls call kazuha dramatic.

she wonders what more have they said about her, when she wasn’t around.

“okay, I’m done listening to you guys act like assholes, I’m gonna go check to see if yn’s ready.”

yn couldn’t move fast, she flinched back when she came face to face with kazuha who paled when she saw yn.

“yn?”

“yeah,” with the way yn’s voice sounded who would’ve never guessed she was just listening to her group members shit on her.

“did you hear anything that was said?” kazuha asked searching yn’s face for any hint of sadness or hurt.

“hear what?” yn said cheerfully, playfully pinching kazuha’s cheek, “are you planning me a surprise or something?”

yn didn’t know how she could quickly act like everything was okay, especially since this is the worst she’s ever felt in a while, I guess she has just grown used to doing this a lot.

kazuha opened her mouth to respond but yn cut her off, “have you seen my eyeliner, I’ve been trying to look for it.”

“oh.” kazuha says, “it’s on my desk.”

“okay let me just get that, and then I’ll be ready, feel free to tell the girls,” yn says before speed walking towards kazuha’s room.

kazuha watched as yn walked away feeling a queasy frying her stomach, all she could think to herself is how much she just wanted yn to show her emotions and tell her how she truly feels.

yn felt like she was underwater all the talking muffled as her members talked amongst each other, she found it hard to engage after hearing their such strong opinions about her.

yn feels like she could smoke ten packs of cigarettes right now, just to feel numb to it all.

she felt a nudge on her shoulder and she turned to kazuha who looked at her with concern, “you good?” the girl asked a little bit too loud causing the table to quite down all their eyes on yn.

chaewon rolled her eyes at yn’s silence, definitely thinking about how much yn’s probably loving the attention right now, when it’s quite the opposite.

“yeah I’m good.” yn says, there’s still silence, “actually I think I’m gonna go.”

“woah what?” yunjin says watching yn grab her purse.

“why?” kazuha asked gripping yn’s arm.

“yeah, I totally forgot that I have some stuff to do with my dad.” yn says tugging her arm out of kazuha’s grip.

“such a daddy’s girl.” chaewon says causing eunchae to giggle.

“you can’t do it another time?” sakura asked.

yn tried her best to stop herself from glaring at them, they want her go stay after all the things they said about her? seriously?

“nope!” she responded, “sorry you know how he is, lunch is on me.” she says digging into her purse and slapping a stack of cash that could probably cover the lunch into kazuha’s hands who looked at her with even more concern.

“you don’t have too.” yunjin says looking at the money in kazuha’s hands, “we were just gonna pay.”

“no it’s okay, daddy’s money should cover it.” yn says a bit of bite in her tone causing chaewon to furrow her eyebrows.

“see you guys later.” she says giving kazuha a squeeze on her shoulder before leaving, ignoring the eyes of her members that were on her.

as she walked out the restaurant one of her dads divers were outside waiting for her, she texted him 10 minutes before she told the girls she was leaving, she couldn’t take it in there anymore, she felt suffocated.

“where to?” the diver asked as she sat in the backseat.

“you already know.” yn said as the man nodded.

yn immediately pulled out her phone and texted yizhuo everything that went down.

yiz baby 🎀 wtf?????

yiz baby 🎀 that’s insane

yiz baby 🎀 what did you ever do to them

she sighed at her friends text messages and looked out the window watching the buildings pass, she couldn’t help but think maybe she did do something to them.

she wasn’t even supposed to be in the lesserafim lineup but got added last minute, she moved around a lot, she was a sm trainee and was apart of the aespa lineup, then she moved to hybe after her dad started business with them, she got taken from source and moved to ador just for source to take her back and quickly add her to the lesserafim lineup, she was an intruder.

she wasn’t meant to be apart of this family, maybe they do have the right to be mean, she just came out of know where and probably ruined everything for them.

yn knew if she closed her eyes tears would fall so she kept them open until a familiar building came to view.

aespa’s dorm.

she got of the car and thanked the driver and make her way into the building.

as she made it to the door she knocked three times and it immediately opened to reveal yizhuo who wrapped her arms around yn.

“what the hell, yn.”

“I know.”

yizhuo dragged yn inside and closed the door walking the girl over to the living room where the rest of aespa sat looking at the tv.

aeri noticed her first, “yn!” she cheered getting up from the couch causing jimin and minjeong to get up as well all three of them giving yn a hug at the same time.

“yizhuo showed us the texts.” jimin said wrapping her arm around yn’s shoulder and leading her to couches.

“yeah…”

“what the hell is there problem?” aeri asked with anger in her voice, “you’ve done nothing wrong.” she said watching yn leaning into jimin’s side and burying her face into the girls neck.

“honestly I was thinking about it.” yn said her voice kind of muffled because of her being squished into jimin, “maybe I did do something to them.”

“what?!” all four girls yelled in disbelief at yn’s words.

she lifted herself from jimin’s side and looked at all of them, “I’m an intruder, I wasn’t supposed to be apart of their family, I came in and probably ruined everything for them, if anything they can mean as they want, hybe can be frustrating and I guess I’m the best person to take that frustration out on and that’s okay.”

“what the fuck yn” yizhuo says looking at her best friend as if she grew five heads, “what type of nonsense just came out of your mouth.”

yn’s mouth drops in offence and minjeong cuts in, “you’ve done nothing wrong yn, it’s pure jealousy, don’t ever blame yourself for this.”

jimin rubbed yn’s shoulder, “stop giving them the benefit of the doubt, they don’t deserve it after today.”

“and can you cry a little?” yizhuo asked, “you can’t keep bottling things up, it’s unhealthy.”

“that’s so embarrassing, never suggest that dumb shit to be again.” yn said to yizhuo firmly, “could imagine my mom and dad’s reaction if they saw me crying or my brothers, it’s crazy that you even suggested it.”

yizhuo shook her head at her best friend in disbelief, “I’m convinced you and your family are robots.”

that was the first time yn had fully laughed all day, she was happy that she had these four girls in her life, she didn’t know what she was gonna do when she has to go back her dorm.

“you should sleepover.” jimin suggested, “you already have clothes here, you need a break.”

all the girls nodded in agreement as yn thought about it.

“okay, I just need to text zuha.”

rich princess 💗staying at nings

kazuha frowned at the text, she just wanted to be there for yn.

“oh?” she flinched back at chaewon’s closeness, “so she’s a liar and a spoiled brat.” she says looking at kazuha’s phone, “blowing off your own group for another?”

“maybe she already did the stuff with her dad, you know she always goes to the aespa dorms after she goes out.” kazuha said coming to yn’s defence.

“why do you care anyways.”

chaewon swallowed at kazuha’s words.

“I don’t, why would I care?” she asked glaring at kazuha. but the way she said it kinda made it seem like she was saying to herself instead of kazuha.

why would I care about what yn does ?

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hi, i hope you're doing okay!

so look i know your requests are closed but i just had an ✨insight✨while reorganizing my room today and i couldn't stop thinking about it, so i decided to write it down here cause either i'd forget it like tomorrow. you don't need to do it, obviously, but if you will, take your time.

so. fem!reader and bucky, established relationship (maybe married) and she's pregnant but she doesn't know cause it's like, super early, she didn't even have morning sickness yet. and mr. super-soldier-enhanced-hearing can hear the baby's heart as soon as it starts beating and he's like confused at first but when he realizes what it is he starts crying and hugging her waist and she's like "buck? you okay love?" and he says "you're pregnant honey, we're having a baby!" bucky's super emotional and thrilled and beyond happy he starts laughing through the tears. he gets super protective of her and her belly but like always pampering her making sure she's drinking enough water and eating and going out at three am to but something shes craving and he's like, super excited to shout to the world he got his girl pregnant with his baby. and he starts sleeping with his head on her belly just listening to the baby's heartbeat as a lullaby.

(he's gonna be the best dad i just know it <3)

hii angel!! love it!! I did change some things, hope that’s okay. thanks for requesting and hope you like it💌

>requests now open<

EXTRA GRILLED CHEESE.

bucky barnes x fem!reader

word count. 1066

summary. bucky has suspicions that you might be pregnant

For the last week, Bucky had an expression you struggled to place - his face often pulled together with intrigue, brows quizically furrowed when around your company. At first, it seemed normal to you - his infamous resting bitch face, but the more he wore it around you, the more you started to worry. 

You often felt as though you were bothering him with your talking, the features on his face unusually hard and rigid as he listened to you. It was a silly thought, really - he's your husband. He'd tell you if he needed a minute of quiet. 

But the harder you looked, the more you began to realise his face wasn't that of judgment, but instead inspection - like he was analysing you.

Elbows resting on the kitchen island, you lean over the countertop, getting closer to Bucky sitting on the other side.

"Another one?" you ask, reaching for his empty plate.

He wryly smiles. "Only if you are."

"One is never enough," you chuckle sweetly, pulling the ingredients back out of the fridge - collecting everything you need for grilled cheese. "Might do a few more— been really hungry lately. That cool with you?"

Bucky hums softly, head tilted to the side as he watches you - completely smitten. That confusing expression long gone. 

"I got it," he stands, moving around the island to you on the other side. "I got the rest. You sit, honey."

You smile cutely, stepping aside and sitting on the countertop - allowing your husband's help. "What do you want to do tonight? Movie and snacks?"

He places the sandwiches in the pan and moves to stand between your legs - slotting his lower half between. Giving you a chaste kiss, he smiles, eyes soft as he looks over you. "Sounds good. Will have to go to the store though— don't have enough in."

"We can go after this?" you offer.

He hums, kissing you sweetly. He pulls back, eyes darting over you. "We'll stop past the pharmacy first. Gotta pick something up."

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Back within the comfort of home, you and Bucky begin to put away the items from the store - bags open on the worktop as you rummage through them, standing side by side. 

Bucky stills and turns to face you, reaching into his pocket. "I uh..." he pauses and clears his throat. "I picked this up while you were looking at things in the pharmacy," he starts, pulling out a small rectangular box. "Feels stupid, I don't know," he shrugs, not confident with the direction of his proposal. 

Your eyes flicker from the box in his hand and up to his face, looking over him inquisitively. "A pregnancy test?" you ask, taking it from his light hold.

"Feels like I'm insulting you," he chuckles bashfully, stepping closer to you. "It's just... I have this feeling," he says softly, extending his hands to rest on either side of your face. "You don't have to take it."

"No— no, I do— I think. I want to. It's just that..." you exhale faintly. "We haven't really spoken about this for a while. What if it's not the result we want? What if we don't like what we see on the test?" you ask anxiously, fiddling with the box.

Bucky pauses, a soft smile on his face as he tilts your face back up - making you look up at him again. "We have time," he says sweetly. "If we don't like what we see, there are changes— there's other options," he solidifies his reassurance with a kiss. "I'll be happy with either result."

"Should I do it now?" you ask, looking down at the box.

"You do it when you're ready, honey. Doesn't have to be now, doesn't have to be today."

Briefly reading over the writing, you feel a slight swell in your heart. It all felt so daunting. You knew this was something you'd both eventually want, but the idea of it beginning now was enough to make you feel queasy. Everything was going so well in your lives, and this was such a big step in your marriage - you were just scared of what the result would do to you both.

With a deep inhale, you shrug sweetly, feigning bravado. "Piece of cake."

"Piece of cake," he repeats, kissing your temple. 

Stepping aside, you walk into the bathroom - box clutched in hand as you read through the directions. The heavy thumping in your ears distracting you from understanding it all. 

After following the instructions, you place the stick aside on some toilet paper and call in your husband, moving to sit on the edge of the bath. Without missing a beat, Bucky steps into the small room, eyes focused on yours as he walks to sit beside you - slipping his hand into yours assuringly. His large hand enveloping yours. 

You sit in uneasy quiet for what feels like an hour, each of your brains whirling with thoughts and ideas and questions - the noise far too loud in your minds. 

Then, finally, after a while, your timer goes off, the obnoxious sound interrupting you both from your fazed-out states.

"You look."

"Are you sure?" he asks, holding your hand as you both stand.

You hum anxiously, nodding at him.

With one hand tightly in yours, the other reaches for the little stick - fingers loosely wrapping around it. Bucky stills, the features on his face slowly softening.

"What does it say?"

He nods faintly, his brows curving up in the middle. "Positive," he murmurs, the shock evident in the way his tone wavers. "It's positive."

"Positive?" you repeat, your expression widening.

He hums, enveloping you in a tight embrace - pressing kisses into your cheek. 

"We're having a baby," you mutter, voice cracking slightly.

"Yeah," he nods, pulling back to look over your face - checking you were okay with it all as he is. "We're having a baby," he echos you, cupping your cheeks.

"You're okay with this?" you ask, focus blurring from a few stray tears.

He nods firmly. "Of course," he chuckles, his tearline slowly filling. "Are you?"

"Yeah," you laugh lightly, nodding - the gentle grip of his hands moving with the soft motion of your head.

"I'll give you everything you want. Everything you need— I'll get you it all."

You already had everything you wanted.

[strawberrypoundtown]

Orc x Halforc!Fem!Reader

You're the clanleaders mixed race eldest daughter. Your older brother has one of his friends watch over you as you start to get eyed by other males in the clan, only for you to eye the rugged brute in charge of protecting you.

(Part 2 here)

Contains: sexual tension, nudity, mentions of biting and scratching

Being the clanleaders eldest daughter was difficult enough, but being a half orc made your daily life annoying. Your mother was a very beautiful and brave woman, especially considering your father was one of the most feared warriors in the world before meeting her. After they had met, your father doted on your mother constantly, and still does to this day. He's still a terrifying warrior, he just doesn't go on raids as much anymore.

However, as you got older, you realized that your parents had painted a picture of your innocence for you that made finding a a partner difficult. You had always been one of the best warriors among everyone else around your age when you were growing up, but your parents always acted like you were the most fragile little thing. So what if you broke your arm a few months ago while on a hunt that got out of hand? You didn't need to have your weapons and armor confiscated.

You let out a deep sigh and rubbed your eyes, before your tent flaps are rudely ripped open, earning a groan out of you. You stubbornly rolled over in your bed and pulled the blankets over your head, not even looking at who might have stumbled into your tent.

"Go away idiot. Let me sleep." You groaned, closing your eyes as you assumed it was one of your many siblings coming to wake you up way too early. You hear the person clear their throat and your eyes shoot open. 'That's not one of my siblings'

"Grobur asked me to come and get you. He wants to talk to you." You're thrown off by the deep voice that haunts your dreams and your cheeks flush. Why did your brother have to send him everytime?

Gan. You have had a crush on him for years. Almost as long as you can remember. He was only a couple year older than you and your brother Grobur's best friend since childhood. He was always so stoic and calm around you, even when you were kids. He was the only person that seemed to actually treat you like you could take care of yourself, while still being protective over you. You loved how protective he would get with you at times, making sure the other men stayed in their place when they went too far with you during practice. Seeing him spar and beat the crap out of the person that tried to beat you put a strange thrilling twist in your stomach. Watching him fight with no armor and barely any clothes, seeing his sweaty green skin glistening in the sun. Each muscle rippling as you would think about how gently he hugs you for a big brute like him. You had to stop watching him so much when you caught yourself drooling one day.

"Today, princess." He grumbled with a hint of sass, breaking you out of your daydream. It was his nickanem for you. It was his way of teasing you. He loved calling you princess, but you always wish he would call you his princess. You grunted and pout as you sat up in bed, staring up at him as you held the blanket up to cover your body. You had picked a bad night to go to bed naked.

"How about you get out so I can put on some clothes? I don't think Grobur would appreciate you parading me around camp naked." You giggled teasingly. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly agape before quickly coughing to cover his embarrassment and turning around to avert his eyes completely and to prevent pitching a tent of his own. He kinda wished you would show him your gorgeous, bountiful breasts, but then he quickly shoved that thought to the back of his head so he could speak

"I-I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. I'll be waiting outside for you." He said softly before leaving your tent. You sighed softly as you got up, slipping into some random clothes quickly, trying to calm your blushing face by rubbing your cheeks. After brushing your hair, you exit your tent and walk up to Gan. God he was massive. He was the largest male in the clan. Your eyes wander down his body briefly, wondering how big his di-

"Are you ready?" He asks you, interrupting your thoughts as you look back up at his face. He wasn't looking at you, seemingly trying to avoid looking at you while he took a step and started to walk ahead. You smile to yourself a little. Maybe you made him flustered?

"O-oh, uh, yes! Let's go." You stammer as you jump to follow him, doing a light jog to keep pace with him.

As you walk around camp, you don't notice the longing and lustful glances many of the males your age get on their faces as you walk by. The rugged orc leading you was the only male you had your eye on.

However, Gan does notice them. It infuriates him to no end that you're subjected to being seen by other males as a plaything, a trophy. None of them deserved you in his opinion. He could tell that in other males eyes, they just saw lust for you.

Gan made sure to look as intimidating as possible as he walked through camp with you, the other males quickly looking away from you when they saw him. When you started getting looks year ago, he started volunteering to escort you wherever you needed to go, under the guise of being sent there by your brother to make sure you were safe. He didn't trust anyone else to guard you, but him. Not like you particularly needed it. Your frame may only come up to his pecs, but you still had orc-like strength. You were strong even when you two were growing up, often besting him in sparring matches when you were little until he got too big for you to pin down.

His mind wanders until he remembers how your hair and clothes would get tousled around when you two had your last sparring match a few months ago. He loved it when you looked so determined in battle, licking and bearing your short, sharp tusks as you tried to catch your breath. Seeing you all sweaty, breathing heavily because of him drove him crazy. Your body was strong, but soft to the touch. Your curves drove him nuts and the muscles under your softness were to die for. You were so soft to him that it was like you could bruise at any moment, but you never did. He could throw you around for what felt like hours and you'd leave with barely a scratch, while he was left with your scratch marks and bites all over his arms and shoulders. Your sharp little tusks had left a few scars bethind over the years. You liked to fight dirty, and he loved it. He'd never admit it tho. He had to let you get him in a hold so he could tap out when he had noticed himself getting a bit too excited.

As you approached the large dining hall tent, you heard your brother and your parents talking happily at the head table, along with the rest of your siblings. Your brother is seated next to his wife, a stunningly beautiful female orc that waves to you with one hand, the other on her swollen pregnant belly.

"(Y/n)! Good morning!" She cheerfully greets. Everyone else at the table smiles at you and welcomes you to sit at the table. You wonder what they're so chipper about.

"Good morning everyone." You say softly before yawning, rubbing the last of the sleep from your eyes as you stood next to Gan.

"We have some good news for you sweetie." Your mom says with a smile. "You know how we've been worried about you getting a mate? Well, we decided to pick someone to watch over you-"

"Mom, I can take care of myself. I don't need someone watching over me all the time." You cut her off, already not wanting to entertain the idea of having a personal babysitter.

"(Y/n), we just want someone to keep an eye on you so no one tries to hurt you. We know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't have someone watching out for you." Your brother says before rolling his eyes, his wife harshly nudging him with her elbow, making him grunt and clutch his side.

"I don't understand why you're so worried about me all the time. I rarely ever see anyone try to look at me, let alone talk to me!" You threw your hands up in the air in frustration, having absolutely no idea that you were standing next to the reason why.

"I don't think you realize how some of the other males have been looking at you lately. You're more than old enough to find a mate now, so males are going to start trying to get your attention more. Some of them might end up getting dangerous..." your mother said softly, an empathetic look on her face as she looked at you. She knew this frustrated you, but she wanted to make sure you were protected if anything were to go wrong. You looked back into her eyes and sighed softly. You knew it was better to have protection than not, and you knew they all meant well.

"I understand. I just hope it's temporary." You say with a hopeful smile, and your father nods.

"It will be. We promise. Once you've found a mate, your guard will be dismissed." Your father states and you let out a sigh of relief.

"Who's the poor sucker that has to try and keep track of her?" Your 13 year old brother chuckled to himself before shoving more food into his mouth, earning a punch to his shoulder from your 16 year old sister.

"I will be." The voice next to you states in a low grumble, glancing at you briefly with what you could swear was a small smirk.

God damn it

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

I’M HERE TO HELP

Pairing - Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary - Your emotional instabilities and impulsive behaviours slowly kills all of your relationships. So you check yourself in for therapy with a doctor who uses unorthodox methods to fix you.

Warnings - BPD, mental illnesses, emotional and physical insecurities, emotional manipulation, emotional abuse, dubcon, dark, angst, p in v, oral both receiving, m! masterbation, daddy issues, toxic relationships, illegal methods, toxic reader.

Word count - A WHOPPING 8.9K

Notes - Heavily inspired by my own personal struggles with BPD. Very long, completely packed with angst and dark themes. A slight AU were Jonathan is your average therapist and not at Arkham. I don't really write longer pics so I'd really appreciative your thoughts. No fear toxin was used in the making.

Borderline Personality Disorder. 

There were no medications to cure you of this mental illness. The only treatments were exercises, meditation and talk therapy. 

Everyday, you experienced a series of insecurities, issues and habits that all stemmed from your childhood. A traumatic relationship with your father had left you to grow up to be yanked between emotionally codependent and unavailable. Your life was full of mood swings and feeling disconnected from who you were. All of your relationships were either short term or on and off. One minute you’d love them and the next you’d despise them. You had no control on how you felt about others. Their images were constantly changing like a series of short ads on the television. 

Everyone was black or white, they were either good or bad for your existence. It left your social interactions to be quite unstable and chaotic. Because you liked to push people away frequently to see how badly they cared for you. It was based on your skepticality and distrust in their words. But could you blame them for leaving with how often you’d self-sabotage your happiness? 

This whirlpool of intense emotions, thoughts and behaviors left you lost in your own mind. One day, you wished you never woke up and the next you'd be high on life. There was no stability in your life, you lived on impulses which you would quickly regret and those actions would replay in your mind for hours. 

You liked to binge drink, take drugs and partake in reckless sex. The thrill of living on the edge was the only feeling you wanted to feel for years. But when you accidentally formed a relationship with a mutual friend named Peter, you got too attached. It freaked you out and well, you acted impulsively and cheated on him. It painted your bad persona clearly to your friends. You were in desperate need of help. 

Your therapist, Doctor Jonathan Crane, was here to help. 

Sensitive, timid, hesitant. Those were your clear characteristics Doctor Crane saw within the first few minutes of meeting you, he jotted them in his notepad as soon as he could. Your initial shyness was cute, you were cute. Even underneath the oversized hoodie you chose to wear that day, which you immediately regretted when you saw him. 

Doctor Crane preferred the mind over the body. Human’s physicality has barriers. Its capability could only be reached so far. However, the mind could be explored to great depths. Every dot of matter in the brain could create a chain reaction in your physical actions. The mind truly ruled over the body. 

Your story was interesting to him, fascinating even. It was gripping for Doctor Crane to find out what made you who you were. How much of an impact your childhood had altered you, broken you. A tiny part of him felt sympathy for you and a large part felt empathy. You were a pretty face begging to be discovered, to be fixed. But he wasn’t even sure yet if he wanted to fix you, he liked the way you were torn. 

He wrote your list of fears on a separate page. 

Abandonment

Commitment

Vulnerability

Judgment

Rejection

Emotional Intimacy

You were no virgin, but emotional intimacy frightened you immensely. The idea of another knowing you completely felt too overwhelming. You had many promising suitors, but your standards seemed to be as high as a tower. So you’d partake in casual sex and sabotage any chance you had at finding true love. Contradictory, it left you feeling empty and alone. But the thought of being held by another, letting your emotions take toll over your body made you feel sick in your stomach. 

The emptiness inside of you begged you to do something, so you bit the bullet and decided to get help. Here you were now, sitting across from your therapist, awkwardly looking at the ground as his eyes lingered over your body. 

Today, you wore a plaid beige skirt that rested just above the knee, which didn’t fail to perfectly hug your soft thighs. The black blouse you wore was perfectly in between modest and sexy. Not to mention your polished mary jane shoes accompanied with the white socks made you look like a fucking naughty school girl begging to be bent over. 

At least, these were all a part of Doctor Crane’s observations. 

Today’s session was different however, he picked up on your behavior immediately when you kept your head low as he warmly welcomed you inside. Your honeyed voice lacked desire, you looked exhausted, broken perhaps?  

“How are you feeling today? You look quite… Taciturn…” Doctor Crane pointed out as he looked your appearance up and down. He leant back in his seat and straightened his shirt. His slender index finger pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

A weak smile spread across your lips momentarily, he wanted to know how you were. No, stop thinking that way… Your mood was like a sheet strung up to a clothesline in the wind. Constantly switching up on you, blinding you on what was right and wrong. 

You had been seeing Doctor Crane for months now. A friend of a friend recommended him and his bio did not fail to describe his level of expertise. In fact you were afraid you wouldn’t be able to get a slot in with him. The therapy started off well, great even. It was worth the pot of anxiety that stewed in your stomach before you built up the courage to get out of your car. 

However, he was wickedly gorgeous. It was like he was made with poison and the more you admired his charm the more it destroyed you emotionally and mentally. Doctors were only meant to be attractive in soap operas or pornos. Real therapists were supposed to be old and borderline creepy. However, Doctor Crane almost looked too young to have his doctorate and a record of accolades that hung from his wall. His beauty was immensely intimidating, his high levels of confidence was a reflection of how little you had in yourself. 

Your psychiatrist certainly had a way with words. It was almost as if he knew you better than you did. The zone was free from any spec of judgment and you fell completely open to him over a short few sessions. Before every session, you found yourself pairing the best outfit you could to try to catch his attention. Apply your makeup as seductively yet modestly as you could. You trusted him completely without realizing. That’s when he knew the real treatment could begin. 

-

The exercises came into play by your sixth session together. That session, your therapist presented a new floor length mirror he had brought. It was odd, but you admired the piece nevertheless. When your session was half way through, he instructed you to stand.  

“Now, I believe you’re ready for some physical exercises” he smiled innocently to you. 

It was simple, stand in the mirror and look at yourself. At first, it was funny, but quickly the discomfort grew as the silence sank in the room. Then you were staring at yourself with pure disgust. Your arms gradually wrapped around your waist as you blinked more frequently, your body swayed gently. 

“What do you see?” He asked eventually, still sitting on his seat, notepad and pen in hand. 

“Myself” you mumbled as you tugged your skirt down as much as you could. 

“Could you be a bit more descriptive?” He cocked an eyebrow towards you, a drip of humor on his tongue.

Shortly after, you came clean on what was on your mind. “I look filthy. It’s disgusting” you admitted shamefully, looking down to the floor. 

“And why do you feel disgusted?” your therapist inquired as he wrote down his observations. 

“Because, look at me… I’m hideous” you answered, your cheeks feeling flustered. 

You weren’t asking for compliments, your honesty was raw emotions. Sometimes you’d look at yourself and see a complete stranger and you’d wonder how people could ever talk to you, let alone want you. You blinked back your tears and stood on wobbly feet. His words were falling deaf on your ears again, you were too focused on your thoughts. He sighed and placed his notepad down on the table. 

“Look at how insecure you still are…” Doctor Crane cooed in a slightly demeaning way as he stood up from his seat and gradually stood behind you. 

There was silence for a long time. The both of you looked at each other through the mirror, almost as if you were both daring each other to make the next move. 

“Do you see someone lovable?” He asked, his face slowly inching closer to your ear. 

“No” you replied, emotionless. 

“Why not?” He furrowed his eyebrows, his body almost pressing up against yours. 

“Because I don’t deserve it” you answered. 

You felt dull again, the emptiness had ripped a hole in your body yet again. Doctor Crane analyzed your stern, lifeless expression. It could happen so easily, your switch up. It was enthralling with how many triggers you had, you were a tennis ball being whacked from one emotion to the other. 

“You’re too harsh on yourself… Far too harsh” your therapist tutted his light scold at you. One of his hands rests on your shoulder to comfort you. 

“What do you see?” You asked him, raising your chin up in an act of hope. 

“Don’t look away from the mirror” was his answer in an emotionless yet stern tone. 

A swift look of confusion planted on your expression. But regardless you obeyed his simple order and remained silent as you stared at him through the mirror. 

His hand slipped from your shoulder to across your chest in an anticipating speed, his pressed fingers spread apart at the same pace. Even though his hand was running across your upper torso, your heart was thudding in your chest so powerfully that he could feel it pump that far away. His hand stopped on your opposing shoulder and gently tugged you back to his chest. 

“What are you doing?” You croaked out, your throat dry and tight as you looked at the two of you. It was almost as if you were in a headlock, but it was gentle.  

“An exercise. I’m helping you get comfortable with yourself” he answered confidently, his cold face pressed against your heated one. 

Your body was as stiff as a board. He sighed to himself when his free hand ran down your body. 

“Relax… For once, let go of the thoughts and focus on your physicality” he ordered softly, almost sounding like a beg instead. His tone was soothing, almost hypnotic. 

So your mind obeyed him immediately. You body fell back into his like your bones had snapped into jelly, he was practically a crutch at this point, you’d fall to the ground if he let go of you. His hands gently caressed your hip, it felt soothing, comforting, secure. 

“Wanna know what I see?” He murmured. 

You murmured back and nodded your head. There was this mixture of fear and thrill painted across your expression. Both of you could see how badly you wanted to know, but how frightening the process was. Yet it was clear with how much it aroused you by how your cheeks darkened. 

“I see a pretty girl, who needs to be looked after. Taken care of. Someone who only wants to be held by another” he answered honestly. 

Your eyes swelled up with tears at his simplicity. When your breathing got rougher as the thoughts swarmed in your mind like a thunderstorm he whispered soothing tones by your ear. Both of you were still staring into the mirror. 

“Look at how smooth your skin is. Your face is faultless. And these curves… They are so sexy, is that an improper word to use?” Jonathan grinned at you, a slight chuckle at his deviant comment, both hands now planted on your hips.

His crotch was pressed against your rear, but he wasn’t erect. Honestly, you weren’t sure if it was reassuring or if it made you more insecure. His lips rested against your ear as you steadied your breathing. 

“Why are you saying this?” You gasped lightly. 

“I told you, it’s an exercise” he answered with a shrug of the shoulders. 

-

That was the day you learnt that Doctor Jonathan Crane was far from your traditional psychiatrist. He tested the modern norms and values of therapy. He used distinctive methods to assist with your progression. Methods that were best kept behind closed doors for both of your reputations. At first you were reluctant to a lot of them, stiff in the bones at the ideas of it. But he persuaded you otherwise, all you had to do was trust him, because it was for your benefit. 

So, you turned your head to the uneasiness of his treatment and trusted him. At the end of every session, you’d end up in a physical or emotional exercise. Some exercises were far more concerning than others. 

Which now, had led you to be so whipped by him, so mesmerized by. A common thread in people with BPD was for them to have a person that they depend on emotionally, for comfort and validation. They called it a favorite person. 

You grew very attached to your psychiatrist who eagerly wanted to help you and you rued at it every night. It wasn’t the type of love you craved it to be, it was obsessive. The both of you knew it. You’d think about him constantly, smile as you recall your past encounters together. Then you’d find yourself crying over the fact that you could never have him. You didn’t love him, you loved the person your mind had created him to be, yet you did love him. Your mind felt like a thunderstorm of confusion with him. No matter how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t let go of him.

You liked the routine you had with him. The security you felt when his arms were around your body eased all of your anxieties. Even though it was always only momentarily. You knew what he asked of you wasn’t right, especially when you’d count the times that he had purposely made you cry, but you did it anyway. Because he wanted you, even though it was only for the moment. 

Doctor Crane clicked his fingers to snap you back to reality. You blinked heavily and looked up to him. It was intimidating with how stern his expression was right now. You already knew that he was trying to piece you together like a puzzle. 

“Yeah, I’m alright” you replied to your psychiatrist. Typical for your response to be vague, you sounded tired, he jotted that down.  

But your smile wasn’t real. It was obvious by the way you were fiddling with the end of your skirt, something was irritating you. He noticed this habit from your first session together.

Doctor Crane was not stupid, but apparently you were dumb enough to think he was. The game was already in motion and you were waiting for the perfect opportunity to cut him off. Being sick was off the table, you would have canceled if you were, actually, you probably wouldn’t have given your condition. 

Regardless, he knew what moves were up your sleeves. The same cards you played on everyone. You wanted him to see you this way. Another desperate cry out for attention, for reassurance, as per usual. Mentally you had to be begging for him to drop to his knees for you. You were self sabotaging again. But it was the first time you had ever tried to do it with him. 

Last week, Doctor Crane canceled your appointment an hour before it should have commenced. A family emergency. Like he had anyone important enough for that. It was just a little experiment of his, to see how truly attached he already knew you were. 

It must have driven you insane. He wished he got to see how much you cried, or how out of touch you were for days. Because despite him constantly claiming otherwise, you thought he was wrapped around your finger by this point and it saddened you to remember how restricted your relationship was with him. His theory looked to be revealingly correct.

“Something’s on your mind… Did you want to tell me?” He asked, tilting his head towards you like you were a dog begging for attention. 

Oh how you hated the way his attitude could switch up on you. One minute he was loving, the next he was neglectful. Little did you realize, he was acting how you’d act to everyone else. 

“Yeah” you murmured with a gentle nod. 

He nodded for you to continue on. When you didn’t continue on, by your voice being stuck in your throat, his left eyebrow cocked. “I want this to be our last session together” you spat out your confession, gulping down your fear as you finally made eye contact with you.

You wanted to read his initial reaction, but the man’s face was carved by stone. It only overfilled your stomach with dreading anxiety and made your heart pound in your chest heavier.  

“Oh really? But I enjoyed our sessions” Doctor Crane pouted to you, he closed his notepad and placed it on the coffee table. 

His legs were crossed in a slutty manner as he tilted his head to you. You laughed nervously, he was always toying with you now, you couldn’t let your emotions persuade you otherwise. 

“So did I” you replied quietly, you face cringing at your response straight after, your thighs pressed together. Now with that, you caught his perfect blue eyes linger down to your thighs, only for a quick second. It could have been missed if you blinked at the wrong time. 

“So, what’s the reason?” He questioned. His fingers continued to tap on his knee as he watched you nervously bat your eyes around. 

“Because I’m going to work it out with Jaime” you spat out before you could think. 

-

Jaime was this guy you started seeing during your sessions with Doctor Crane. He was a coworker of yours and the tension had slowly been brewing over time. With your therapist’s help, you felt like you should try to open yourself to others besides him. So you did, you went on continuous dates. Yet you were too scared to tell Doctor Crane, this gut feeling told you he wouldn’t like it. 

When you were confident enough to share the information in your next session, you did not expect to walk out of the clinic with a flipped opinion on Jaime. Doctor Crane pointed out the facts. You liked the idea of him. He was promising, he looked at you in awe and not in desire. He cared about your future together. Jaime was the type of guy you’d take home to meet your parents. He was financially responsible, family oriented, involved in the community and took care of you. 

So Jaime ticked all of the appropriate factors, but Doctor Crane questioned what you really liked about Jaime. It left you lost for words, what previously you felt you could write an essay about, your mind fell blank. 

He followed this up on your fear of being sexual with him still. 

“You’re not into him. Four dates and still nothing? You’re just trying to fill the loneliness inside of you” He sighed, sounding disappointed in your actions. 

“No… No…” You defended pathetically. 

Your mind was racing at this point and there was no emergency stop lever. Hands rubbing together in an anxious manner as you blinked hard. 

“Fine, let’s do an exercise then” he clapped his hands together dramatically. 

You looked at him confused as he moved over to the lounge sofa. His hand gestured for you to follow, hesitantly you did and sat next to him. Through a stiff posture, you looked over to him as he casually leant back into the cushioning, his hands caressing his thighs. 

It came out before you could properly process it. A part of you thought it was a joke and then the next thought it was a hallucination. You stared down in a transfix, your throat clogged and mouth dry. 

“Pretty… Isn’t it?” He hummed as he stroked his huge size, his gaze panning up to you. A sly smirk was planted under his dark eyes. 

As your logic broke out, you whimpered and went to stand up but his hand latched onto your thigh quicker. 

“Relax, I don’t want you to touch me. I just want you to watch me” he clarified, as if it made this any better. “Don’t take your eyes off of me, okay?” He mumbled his demand as his eyes moved back down to his length. 

He was larger than most. A vein that poked out of his sensitive skin, which looked to be a couple of centimeters long. Typically, he was cleanly shaved as his hand wrapped around his firm member. All you could do was stare, in desire, in disgust, in disorder, in awe. 

You therapist looked back up to you, he pictured you dropping to your knees, humping your soaked cunt on his polished shoe as you begged him to fuck you, to make you orgasm. Fantasied you screaming his name out as he buried himself deep inside of you. 

He had to bite onto his lower lip to hold back his groans. As your thighs pressed together, you felt your core tingle, the vibrations grew bigger around your sensitive area. Both of your eyes shot up to each other simultaneously.

“You like this? Watching me stroke myself” he murmured, a wicked grin on his face as he observed your wide eyes. 

“Y-yeah” you shuddered, your head nodding in agreement. This massive urge inside of you fought to wrap your hands around his size, but you felt too intimidated to do it. 

“Dirty girl” he moaned lightly as he picked up his speed. 

As his climax almost reached its peak and his cock twitched, he swiftly let go of his member and maneuvered you onto your back. You gasped out in a mixture of shock, fear and pleasure as he roughly pulled up your top and aimed his length at your stomach. 

After a couple of vicious strokes, Doctor Crane snarled as his white ropes sprayed across your soft flesh. Your eyes darted up to his blue eyes and down to his throbbing member repetitively, your body stiff underneath him. He hummed in a low tone as his strokes came to a halt. 

He tilted his head at the pretty sight and breathed out. Your eyes connected once more and he chuckled to you.  

“See, how could you be into him? You just watched me masterbate and let me finish on you” he spoke in a nonchalant tone. 

-

He was calling your bluff, but the fact that you had the audacity to bring up his name angered him. Made him feel a wave of jealousy even. Nevertheless, he would still be up for the challenge. He snorted to you, his eyes studying your facial expressions. There was nothing you could do but awkwardly rub your chin and look away from your therapist. 

“You’re a horrible liar” he pointed out with a sly look. All you could do was lower your head in shame. “I thought I was helping you” he hummed, head tilted to the side as he waited for you to look back over to him. 

“I don't want to see you anymore” you divulged with a grunt, growing frustrated with his investigations. 

“Why not?” 

“I just don’t want to” you spoke slowly, every word had your jaw clenching. 

“This hasn’t got something to do with our last session together, does it?” He asked, a cynical smile growing on his lips. 

All you could do was shake your head. He was getting under your skin, he was meant to be a therapist for crying out loud. Why was he being so mean to you? Why did this have to mean so much to him? 

The matter in question was your last session together. 

-

You walked into the room highly overstimulated, unfocused, irritated with your burden of a reality. The past few nights you had been crying endlessly. The thought of him was constantly on your mind. He was an enigma, the impossible puzzle in stores that no one even bothered to attempt. Every move you made with him had you stepping back twice as far. Thinking of him made you so overwhelmed, because you didn’t know what he wanted from you. It was some twisted game in his mind and you were too naive in the beginning to think it was something else. 

He touched you, held you, caressed you, whispered sweet words into your ear, kissed you. Your therapist had explored almost every inch of your skin. His hips had rocked in sync with yours. You’ve seen him in completely vulnerable positions. Yet there was nothing that kept you together except for you booking in another appointment. 

He continued to remind you that he didn’t want you at the end of every session without saying as he walked you out the door. A constant reminder that these were only exercises. You were exhausted and ready to raise the flag. 

There was something real hidden underneath all of this. A twisted sensation that connected you both as one. It was a gut feeling, and you’d be damned if you tried to wait the sensation out of your body. At this point, it was all or nothing. 

“Act on it” he told you with an approving nod. 

You had just opened up to him with your scenario. Which he instantly knew was based around him despite you being highly vague. He read your expressions and body language clearly. You were overwhelmed, emotional, depressed, anxious and aroused. 

“What?” You frowned at him, a mixture of confusion and hope. 

“Act on your impulses” he clarified, straightening himself in his seat. There was a pause as you tried to read his expression, questioning if he was implying what you truly wanted to do. “Do it” he encouraged, flashing you a toothy grin. 

His legs spreaded on the chair, his hand tapping gently on his thigh, you could see it from where you were seated, the bulge in his trousers. Hesitantly you stood from your seat, he nodded to reassure you. Through a wobbly stance, you gradually approached your therapist, your heart pounded and thoughts raced like hotrods. 

As you stood before him, he admired the fear painted on you. You gulped down your thoughts and closed your eyes as you straddled him, his hands crept up to your hips as you took his short dark locks of hair in your hands. 

This was different from last time, you held the reins right now. Too afraid to look at him this closely, you leant down and kissed him. He welcomed your tongue into his mouth as his hands slid up and down your lower back, sending sensational shocks amongst your nerves. 

You moaned into his mouth and gently tugged at his roots. His hands wrapped around your back and he rocked his hips up and down slowly. When you finally opened your eyes again, he was looking right into you, as if he was studying every single thing you were doing. It discouraged you and you separated your lips and gulped, your hand wiped around your mouth. 

“Don’t be afraid… I’m right here, I’ll look after you” he promised you gently. 

You weakly smiled at him and found yourself slowly slipping down off of him. As you landed on your knees, your hands ran up and down his thin thighs. He sighed quietly as he watched you undo his leather belt. He helped you by raising his hips so you could tug down at pants, his cock flopped out onto his stomach. 

You’ve never touched it before and it sent vibrations up your core. It felt suspenseful, the quick look you gave before you wrapped your hands around him. He moved forward on the seat and you gave him a couple of lazy pumps. Slowly, your lips pressed against his tip and he groaned in approval. 

You closed your eyes as his length slipped into your mouth. Quickly, his hands gently held onto your cheeks. 

“No no… Don’t look away from me, I want to see those pretty eyes of yours” he ordered kindly, a sweet smile on his mouth.

Your eyes fluttered open and your mouth smiled around his length. As you hummed around his size, it sent vibrations down his sensitive member. At a slow pace, your mouth bobbed up and down, taking in a little more than the last time. His hands looped into your loose, soft hair as he encouraged you to go a little bit faster. Doctor Crane liked it when you thrummed around him, how you’d hollow your cheeks and the way you batted your eyes up to him. 

“Oh, such a good girl… You’re doing a fantastic job” he praised in a mixed tone of condescending and admiration which made your thighs press together.  He carefully lifted his body up from the chair and his trousers started to slip to his ankles. His legs stood apart as he guided your head. Your hands ran up the back of his thighs and rested just below his glutes.

One hand slipped out of your hair so he could untighten his tie enough so he could pull it off. His hands slowly pulled your mouth off of him, you made a pop sound and for a second he thought he was going to finish right there and then. Even though you were breathing heavily, you were smiling so gleefully at him, he couldn’t help but to look at you in awe momentarily. 

“Here… Wear this, it’ll make you look even prettier” he requested as he slipped and tightened his red tie around your gorgeous neck. 

His hand wrapped from the tip of the tie and gently tugged your mouth back towards his throbbing, wet member. Eagerly, you took him back into your mouth completely. Your fingernails tickled at his hamstrings as you found a smooth rhythm to bob at. 

“You’re so good at this… Can I go a bit rougher?” He gasped out. 

He didn’t even give you a moment to respond. He tugged the tie harshly towards him repetitively as his tip would hit the back of your throat. Your nails dug into his flesh as you squint your eyes shut, tears naturally swelled up. 

“No, I told you to look at me” he ordered more firmly this time, his free head patting your cheek to get your attention. 

You obeyed, but blunk repetitively to try to wash away your tears. He was groaning out gently, he didn’t expect you to look so beautiful this way. It felt almost native to him to have you here in this state. 

His size was twitching frequently in your mouth, he could feel how close he was. As his mouth fell open in pleasure, you couldn’t help but to smile again despite the painful speed you were going at. Because you were pleasing him, he was happy. 

“Can I finish in your mouth darling?” He asked in a gasp. 

Immediately you moaned around his shaft and even though Doctor Crane didn’t know what you were trying to spit out, he took it as a yes. When he felt his climax tip over, he pulled your face to his lower region, your nose pressed against his lower abdomen as he held you still there. His seed shot straight down your throat, only a couple of ropes got caught on your tongue. 

His blue eyes rolled back and he moaned out loudly. As his hand around the tie instinctively pulled as far as he could and his other hand slipped back into your hair and caressed your scalp. When his eyes fluttered back to reality and his post orgasm state settled in, he still held you around him, wanting it to last one more longer. 

Gradually, the tie slipped out of his hand and he tugged you off of him. Your body slumped down as you breathed out hard and swallowed the remainder of his semen. You took off the tie and rubbed the friction burn around your neck and soreness that pulsed on your mouth. 

However, when you looked back up to him, your smile quickly faded. 

“And that’s time…” He spoke emotionlessly, his eyes glued onto his watch. 

He had already tucked himself back into his trousers. Whilst you sat on your knees looking like a sweating mess. When he held his hand out, you mistook it for a kind gesture of helping you up. But he only wanted his tie back. As he tied it back around his neck, you sat frozen on knees, head laying low. 

His voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Sweetheart, come on. I have another appointment” he sighed, his voice sounding distant. 

When you looked up, he was by the door, his hips leant to the left with his hands resting above them. You blinked away your tears and stood up on wobbly feet. Quickly you grabbed your belongings and sniffled as you approached him. 

As you went to open the door, his hand rested on your shoulder. You couldn’t help but to look up to him with a sliver of hope. 

“That was good progress today, I’ll see you next week” he nodded to you, his expression emotionless. 

He opened the door for you before you could even try to utter a word. As you walked out and turned around to see him one more time, he shut the door before you could. 

When he canceled on you the week after, reality hit you like a train traveling at high speed. He was using you, you were only a playtoy and it was a matter of time until he grew bored of you. The irony was how your therapist was destroying you instead of fixing you.  

You drove recklessly the whole time, wishing that you would just end up in a fatal crash. He told you to stay away from recreational drugs and alcohol early on. But that weekend you went out and impulsively took more than you should have. You ended up grinding with strangers, closing your eyes and picturing him and then you’d drink more to try to forget about him, even though it was just for the night. 

You don’t know how you got home the next morning, better yet how you didn’t have a single scratch on your body. It felt a sign that you needed to let him go. That he was the toxic venom in your life and loving him would kill you. 

He was the two end balls on Newton's cradle, his behavior to you was constantly switching. The way he kissed you, held you, caressed you. It all meant nothing. Especially when it came to comparison of how he’d shout at you, belittle you, scream even on occasions. Some sessions you’d end up having a complete meltdown in his arms and he’d apologize for taking the exercise too intensely. 

Everything he was doing to you was illegal. This wasn’t normal, this wasn’t healthy, this wasn’t proper treatment. He was only making your condition worse. He was taking advantage of you and you had been stupid enough to allow it for so long. It was time to take off the rose tinted glasses. 

-

Doctor Crane was correct yet again. You were not back in contact with Jaime. You only needed an excuse to get out of this cobweb of painful emotions and it was the best idea you had. His blue eyes were shooting daggers at you as he waited for your answer. 

“You could have canceled over the phone but you’re here… Why?” He frowned towards you, moving forward in his seat to get a view. 

You clicked your tongue and blinked back your tears. Your body was running high on adrenaline, it was hard for you to process anything that was happening around you. Doctor Crane could see how overstimulated you were, how hard this must have been for you. 

Your head remained low as you began to speak. “I will-”

“Look at me when you’re talking” he resisted his snarl through his demand as he cut you off. 

As you clicked your tongue again, your head shot up in anger. He couldn’t help but to grin, you’ve never looked at him with such fury. The fire inside of you made the blood run to his cock. 

A thousand words stormed through your brain. Everything that you wanted to scream at him banged against the walls, desperately trying to break out. It was hard to know what you wanted to say first. But then a thought of reflection sparked and within a click, your angered expression disappeared. Your torso relaxed as you blinked at him. His dark eyebrows furrowed to you as you calmed your breathing. 

“Goodbye Doctor Crane” you exhaled, a soft satisfied smile on your lips. 

For once, you could read his expression enough, he was taken aback. His eyes widened, only slightly, but nevertheless they widened. As his mouth slowly opened and head tilted, as his mind raced to spit something out, you stood up from your seat and turned to the door, gulping down all of your nerves. 

For a moment, he couldn’t help but to admire you walking away, the way your hips would swing. He couldn’t deny the fact that he was proud of you, for finally standing up for yourself. But he knew one thing, you were going to walk out that door and never return. 

Doctor Crane would be damned if he allowed you to leave him, especially on your own terms. A quick flash of fear mixed with excitement washed over his face and he acted impulsively for once. A sudden rush of desperation and desire compelled his thoughts. He jumped from his chair like a predator in pursuit of its prey. 

Before you could reach for the knob, you’re forced up against the door, not softly yet not too roughly to leave a mark. You gasp out as his hands run over your body animalistically. Doctor Crane’s mouth pressed to your jaw as his arms tangled around your body. 

“Doctor-” you whimpered and he couldn’t help but to moan out your name. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked quietly by your ear, his words hissing like a viper. 

Tears begin to shed again from your sore eyes. Why couldn’t he just let you leave and move on. 

“Stop…” you chortled, shaking your head at the thought of staying in this any longer. 

“Let’s talk about this” he pleaded in a humorous tone as he tried to guide you back to the middle of the room. 

But you stood firmly, your hand could just hold onto the doorknob. When you shook your head again he grunted and kissed your neck. 

“I don’t want to” you shivered, you wanted to sound confident but your emotions were failing you.

Doctor Crane kissed your neck repeatedly to try to convince you otherwise. It only made you whine and struggle against him. His lips pressed to your ear as his head nuzzled against yours, your knees couldn’t help but to buckle. 

“I thought you liked me…” 

“I can’t do this” you bit back your moan as you felt his erection hump against your ass. 

Naturally, your back began to arch as you pushed your head back against his. Whilst being under this seductive trance, he pulled you back towards his chair and fell back onto it. You sat on his lap, you back pressed against his front and his tongue rolled over your earlobe. 

“You’re so overstimulated right now… I can feel it running through your skin. You can’t even see how badly you’re acting. I bet you can hardly process what I’m saying” he grinned as his hands ran up and down your body, too greedy to stick to one spot. 

“No! Let go of me please! I want to leave!” You cried out, his fingers swiftly swam into your mouth to silence you. 

“Darling… Darling, you’re not okay. I need to help you. I legally can’t let you leave in this state, for your safety and others” he disclosed, a mischief look on his face. 

As his free hand snaked up to your tits as the other continued to pump his fingers into and out of your mouth. Your body squirmed on his, but you didn’t try to jump off of him, your body felt tired and aroused. 

“Fuuuck, you wore such a slutty outfit today. You must have really wanted to get my attention” he snickered as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and you gasped out. 

“Doctor please… Please let me go. I-I” you stuttered as your eyes remained shut. 

“Stop thinking… Let your impulses take over” he spoke calmly. 

“No I can’t!” you argued, shaking your head at the thought of submitting to him again. 

You hated yourself. Because for days you were so determined on ridding him out of your mind. Finally letting go of his abuse. You were going to fix the part that he purposely broke in you. But here you were again, back on his lap. 

He sighed out and kissed your heated cheek again. 

“Look at how emotional you are. My poor insecure girl, I bet you’re all built up down there” he exhaled deeply as his wet fingers traveled down under your skirt and your body froze. 

“No… Stop, you’re upsetting me” you sobbed as his hand danced around your panties. 

He breathed out, his hand slid down to your thigh as he pressed his forehead to your hair. Silence filled the room as he hummed quietly, you sniffled a couple of times. 

“I know… If it changes anything, I’m sorry” he admitted, his arms wrapped around your waist. 

A beat. 

“Really?” You asked in a hopeful tone, your head turned back to him. 

Doctor Crane’s expression was completely emotionless except for his eyes as he slowly nodded. They were wide and glistening. Slowly, your body shifted back around to face him and his hands rested on your lower back. 

“Yes, I fail to remember how subconscious you can be” he explained, his fingertips playing with the end of your skirt. You felt skeptical, but he looked so innocent with his eyes raw with emotion, how could you not forgive that. “Let me make it up to you” he whispered as he leant in to kiss you. 

You allowed it, your arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed you passionately. You whimpered, your body shivering as his hands ran up your thighs to your ass. 

“I don’t want to do another exercise” you gasped as you broke the kiss. 

“This isn’t an exercise” he said sternly, his hands squeezing your rear. 

“What is it?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Something far more memorable” he shrugged his shoulders gently as his fingers unbutton your blouse. “Now, let’s get you out of this pretty outfit” he instructed. As you pulled your shirt off, his fingers trailed over the perfect blue bra you wore. “So arresting” he admired, his top teeth grazing over his lower lip. 

He kindly ordered you to stand up as he unclasped your bra. His blue eyes lingered on your bare torso as he dropped to his knees to unbuckle your shoes. After he assisted you to take off your socks, he slowly pulled down your skirt and panties as one to the floor. 

He breathed out as he looked up to take in your perfectly imperfect figure. Your existence was like a piece of kintsukuroi, you turned to be more beautiful after being broken. 

He had never seen you naked before. Never seen anything besides the beauty of your stomach or thighs. Your body shivered and subconsciously you pulled your arms to your chest and your thighs crossed over as you watched his dark eyes, dripping with lust scan over you. After you did that, his eyes snapped up to yours and he tutted to you 

“No, no… Never hide yourself from me, ever” he commanded firmly as his arms reached up and repositioned yours back to your sides.

You whimpered but nodded regardlessly as his hands met in between your thighs and pushed them apart. He admired your cleanly shaved region and his hot breath fanned you momentarily before his cold lips pressed to your gushing folds. 

“Tastes so delightful” he complimented before kissing you there again. 

You held back your moan, it got stuck in your throat and he looked up to you. Purely wanting to see your reaction as he flicked his tongue over your clit. You mumbled out, your hands instinctively gripped into his hair for support. As his hands caressed your glutes, you couldn’t help but to feel a similitude to your last encounter together. His tongue lapped at your entrance, zigzagged up and down your folds as your eyes began to roll back. Naturally your hips rocked and fingertips massaged his scalp as he began to kiss your cunt in a sloppy manner. 

“Such a cute pussy” he commented in a lustful tone before his tongue shot inside of you. 

You cried out as you roughly tugged at his roots. His slippery tongue was darting in and out of you. The vibrations were sparking up your nerves as you couldn’t try to hide your moans any longer. Your toes were curling on the floorboards, breathing unsteady as your eyes blinked heavily. 

“I-I need… I need to” you stammered out, lost for words as your sight began to blur.

“Need to finish? You’ll ask nicely then” he demanded with a grin as he looked back up to you. 

You cried out in frustration as you heaved. “Please… Can I come” you whimpered softly. 

Usually, he’d prefer to tease a bit longer. But you looked so sweet, he couldn’t find a reason to say no. 

“Come on then, let me taste your sweet orgasm” he encouraged before his tongue attacked your bundle of nerves again. 

Shortly after, you screamed out, your back arched, head snapped back, toes tried to dig into the floor as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. It was music to his ears, as he greedily ate you out completely. You were whimpering words as he licked your cunt clean, your eyes forced shut from pleasure. 

Doctor Crane slowly stood up and rubbed his bulge, smiling at your post orgasm state. It wasn’t until you felt the cool sensation of the desk on your rear when you relaxed how far in the room you had moved. Your back fell onto the wood as you breathed out, his pants open enough for his throbbing cock to hang out and be stroked in his hand. 

“You go so mindless when you climax, it’s quite fascinating” he pointed out as he lifted your legs over his shoulders. 

You smelt of jasmine and rose, the perfect mixture of sweet floral and seductive muskiness which made his nostrils flare. Whilst he smelt of a perfect blend of rose petals, musk, precious woods and floral citrus which made Jonathan feel like he was the aftermath of a rain shower to you. 

You gulped as he pressed his tip to your recovering core. “Do you like me?” You blurted out as a wave of doubt crashed over you. 

“I fuck all of my patients” he chuckled lightly which made your face drop. “That was a joke” he sighed as he pressed the back of his hand to your heated cheek. “You certainly have my attention” he admitted with a soft smile as he lined his cock to your entrance.  

He wasn’t even sure if he was capable of those emotions, at least in a traditional sense. He knew that he loved every bit you hated of yourself, addicted even. There was this primal urge to take care of you, to look after you felt like a captivity he desired to be in. 

He liked how much you subconsciously feared him, which always resulted in you wanting to please him, to get some form of reassurance, of love. It was nice, knowing that someone was addicted to him like he was a drug. The feeling of being loved was comforting, in his own taboo way. 

As he roughly thrusted himself instead of you, your hands fell back and you knocked something off the desk. Your head snapped back to see what but his hand turned your face back to his serious expression. 

“How many times do I have to tell you. Keep your eyes on me” he warned as he continued to fuck you.

“But-” you opposed as you leant back more and gripped onto the edge of the desk. 

“Don’t worry about it” he grunted with his hips pistoning into you. 

You nodded eagerly with your mouth wide open. 

It was as if your eyes could speak the way he looked at you. The inquisitiveness in him always wanted to know what you were thinking. But at the same time, he merely liked to look into your pretty eyes. It almost gave him comfort that he was finally truly seen by another. 

You were alluring to him. Apparently made from the same toxin he was, because he was an addict for you. He was obsessed with discovering every single atom of you. It felt like his life mission to know everything there was to know about you. Yes, he took it too far with you on many occasions. But he just needed to uncover your triggers. He needed to know what to protect you from and how to keep you attached to him. 

His arms straightened besides your shoulders. “That’s my good fucking girl” he praised as his cock twitched inside of you. 

By the force he was going at, it was hurting you, but regardless, you felt your cunt drip immensely. His mouth hung open as his blue eyes fluttered lightly. 

“What do you call me?”

“Huh?” 

Doctor Crane repeated his words sternly after every thrust. You blinked and stammered for a moment, his cock distracting you from the correct answer. 

“Daddy?” You guessed unsurely. 

“No… Your father left you. But not me, I’m right here sweetheart. Call me by my name, because that’s what lovers do, isn’t it?” Jonathan smirked as his pace picked up, his own eyes began to roll back. 

You whimpered and called him by his name. In return, he moaned back your name and called you a good girl before kissing you. Through swollen eyes, you panted underneath him, his mouth pressed to your jaw. 

“You can be so mean to me” you whined pathetically as you struggled to keep your eyes on him. 

“I know” he replied blankly. 

“Why?” 

“It’s all a part of your treatment” he sighed, silencing you with his lips before you could ask any further questions. 

When your lips eventually separated, his hips were still thrusting into you viciously. Your region felt full and another orgasm was trying to latch onto your sensitive nerves. One arm shot up to latch around his neck, holding his face closer to yours as you stared deeply into his eyes. 

“I love you” you admitted in a trance of lust, comfort and pure raw emotion.

“I already knew that” Jonathan groaned back to you. 

You were dreaming if you believed you’d be able to get a confession out of him. If anything, you should be grateful enough to get this much out of him. But Jonathan couldn’t deny his attraction, his fixation towards you. 

You were in his dreams quite frequently. Jonathan saw you at home, being a perfect housewife and an exceptional lover for him. He had thought of going back to teaching at the university instead, that way you’d be able to make him breakfast, pack his lunch and have dinner ready for him by the time he returned home. His salary would be enough to protect you both financially, so you’d be able to quit your job and focus your life purely on him. Just as your condition compelled you to. This way, he’d be able to look after you always, and you'd be able to look after him. 

“I’m so fucking addicted to you. You’re my favorite little obsession” he confessed with a wicked smile. 

The type of look that made your stomach turn, realizing how big of a hole you had dug yourself, you may just never be able to climb back out of it. As a natural instinct urged you to get up and make a run for it, Jonathan forced you completely onto your back. 

You grunt out from the pain as he pressed himself completely inside of your pulsing walls. Jonathan’s tongue ran down your face. 

“You know BPD is incurable? You’re always going to need someone to look after you” he implied as his movements turned slow and painful as your cunt clenched around his size. 

“You scare me so much” you admitted through a wobbly lower lip. 

“Darling… That’s the whole point of it all” he replied calmly. 

“But don’t stress, I’ll always be here to help you” Jonathan assured your insecurities.