#so i emailed him to ask if office hours were canceled too (they were) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amaretigris · 11 months ago

Text

Developpe Ch. 9

1.7k words | Angst

A/n: Good news and bad news. Good news: I have a couple more chapters planned for this fic. Bad news: I only have a couple more chapters planned for this fic. 🥲

Taglist: @luna2034 @mylittlemermaid221 @notagreekgal28 @hopeisrising @justagirlthatlovedtoread

You've done two more performances of Don Quixote, to many applause. It was your dream come true: finally being able to perform as a professional ballerina, and having Jonah waiting on the side of the stage for you at each show. You couldn't be happier. Maybe it would stick this time. Maybe all of your hard work had finally paid off. You've only seen Jonah once more outside of school hours. You'd met him in his office for some snogging after a show. During the exploration of his hands and lips on your body, he'd assured you that you'd see each other again soon.

It was a sunny Monday winter morning, and you got up and started your morning routine. Getting dressed for class, you were just finishing tying up your ballet slippers when you heard a knock at your door. You turned your head toward the sound curiously. Who was knocking at your door this early? You got up to answer it with your brow furrowed. Unlocking and opening the door, you were surprised to see Ursula on the other side. The sight of her immediately put a fowl taste in your mouth.

"Hello? What can I do for you?" You were a little snippy.

"Good morning, (Y/N). I'm sure you're headed to class, so I won't hold you up for long. I was told to deliver this letter to you," she flicked her wrist with an envelope in hand.

"It seems that the Board got an anonymous tip that you are currently having outside relations with your ballet instructor, Mr. King. Funny," she put a finger on her chin as if in thought, "I thought you said you didn't know him well."

The knowing look she gave you sent chills down your spine. Clenching your jaw and carefully taking the letter out of her hand, you closed the door.

Shit. Your heart was beating out of your chest. What did this mean?

Ripping the envelope open, you grasped the top of the paper, reading carefully. It was a summons to meet with the Board tomorrow. No doubt to ask you detailed questions about your relationship with your instructor. Releasing a breath you didn't know you'd been holding, you dropped your hand holding the letter to your thigh. Your right hand scrubbed down your forehead and face. This was it. This was the risk that you'd taken. It was all about to come crashing down. All your hard work, and all of Jonah's, down the drain. You felt yourself start shaking with anxiety, sitting on the edge of your bed. You tried to center your breath, looking at your phone. You only had ten minutes until class. The walk there would take you five. You used the next five minutes to try to calm yourself.

Stepping into the studio, you were met with the sight of Jonah's back. The lights were on, but the room was empty. Running up to him and grabbing his arm, he turned to face you with wide eyes. You quickly dropped your hand.

"J- Mr. King. Is everything okay?"

You could tell from the look in his eyes that it wasn't.

Shaking his head and looking down, Jonah sighed.

"No, (Y/N). It's not. I sent out an email ten minutes ago. I had to cancel class today. I have a meeting with the Board," he trailed off.

"Jonah, I'm so sorry. I got a letter this morning, too. Ursula brought it to my room with a smug look on her face. She said they got an 'anonymous' tip," you whispered.

Tears soon filled your eyes. Jonah looked up when he heard you sniffle. Seeing the tears, he reached his hand out to soothe, but he suddenly stopped, dropping it back to his side.

"Please don't cry, (Y/N). I knew this was the risk. I just don't think we should be seen together right now. I've got to sort this all out," he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck awkwardly, not being able to touch you.

You nodded, trying to stop crying. You took a deep breath.

"They won't find out any information from me. They can't have much proof. I swear I won't say anything," you promised.

Jonah solemnly looked into your eyes and nodded.

"I know. I believe you. Now, please, go and try to enjoy your free time," he tried to give a small smile.

Nodding again, you took one last look at him before you turned and left. Trudging back to your room, you wanted to crawl under the covers in bed, and never come out again.

You were up early the next morning, anxious about your meeting. It was scheduled at 9:00 a.m. Creaking an eye open to look at your digital clock beside the bed, it only read 6:34. Groaning, you pulled the covers back over your head. You desperately wanted to go back to sleep, but you couldn't. Your thoughts were a whirlwind in your mind. You found yourself replaying events, thinking of every little detail that someone could have witnessed. There wasn't much of a trail. You and Jonah had been very careful.

You still felt an overwhelming sense of guilt, heavy in your chest. How could you let him risk this? How could you let yourself? You briefly pondered that if you could go back in time, if you'd do it over again. You knew that you would. There had been an undeniable connection between you and Jonah. It was no one's fault, you felt. Letting out a long, dramatic breath, you tried to go back to sleep.

You were shifting in your chair. You were extremely uncomfortable, waiting to go in. You were mentally preparing yourself for a barrage of questions. Trying to remember all the details you wanted to mention, you must've gone through the scenario a thousand times in your head by now. Finally seeing the door to your left open, a woman dressed in a pant suit and heels stepped out.

"Miss (Y/N), right this way," she said politely.

You stood from your seat, running shaky hands down your formal skirt to smooth it out. Walking into the room, you saw a tall, platformed desk at the front of the space. Four men sat behind it. There were traditional flag poles behind them. The woman shut the door and walked behind the desk to join them.

"Please, sit," she motioned to a chair at the center of the room.

Taking your seat, you shuffled your ankles nervously under the chair. One of the men spoke, peering at your over his glasses.

"(F/N)(L/N), you are here today to answer some questions about the nature of your relationship with your Advanced Ballet Instructor, Mr. King."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

"How would you describe your relationship with your instructor?" The man probed.

"Purely professional," you answered quickly.

"The person who submitted this tip said that they saw you hug Mr. King at your premier performance of Don Quixote," he stated blandly.

You quirked a brow.

"Yes, out of excitement. He's my instructor. We worked hard to get ready for the show. Plenty of athletes and dancers hug their coaches. I assure you, I'm not the first."

The man asking the questions nodded.

"Yes, well, this person also said that they believed the two of you saw each other outside of school hours one evening. Apparently, a car similar to Mr. King's was seen outside housing, picking you up. The witness also said that the one driving the vehicle beared a strong resemblance to your instructor," he seemed uninterested, reading off the paper.

"That was my friend Tristan. I can pull up his Facebook profile to show you. He owns a black BMW and has dark hair. He gave me a ride to a friend's house. He was doing me a favor," you shrugged.

Pulling up Tristan's profile, you held your phone up. The man waved his hand for you to bring it closer. Standing up and walking to the desk, you slid your phone up on the table for him to see. The man fixed his glasses and examined Tristan's account. The guy's profile picture showed his resemblance to Jonah, and he had a picture of his black BMW as his header. Nodding and handing the phone off to the other Board members to examine, the man cleared his throat.

"Has Mr. King ever, in any way, been unprofessional or inappropriate with you?"

You shook your head.

"No. Never."

Your phone was handed back to you.

"Alright, you may return to your seat," the man acquiesced.

Taking your seat again, you put your phone down in your lap, and crossed your legs.

"There has been a previous claim of misconduct filed against Mr. King. It was claimed that he sent inappropriate pictures to a colleague. Has Mr. King ever sent you any pictures?"

You held a neutral expression.

"No. You can check phone records if you'd like. I don't even have his number. There has never been any phone contact between Mr. King and I," you said plainly.

Nodding his head, the man interrogating you looked over his glasses to each of the other Board members. They all exchanged little nods.

"Alright. There seems to be no evidence of foul play or inappropriate activity between you and Mr. King. You are free to go, unless you have something you'd like to add."

Straightening your posture, you held your chin up.

"There is something I'd like to add. I'm assuming that the one who filed this complaint is Ursula, the costume designer. I say this because, during my costume fitting, she was bad mouthing Mr. King, and probing me for information. She was speaking to me about inappropriate matters. I find her to be extremely aggressive and unprofessional. It's my opinion that if anyone needs to face disciplinary action, it's her."

Shaking his head, the man took his glasses off of his face, setting them on the desk.

"Yes, well you're not the first to report that. That problem won't persist for much longer," he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Thank you for your time, Miss (Y/N)."

#the little mermaid 2023 #jonah hauer king #jonah hauer king x reader #jonah hauer king x y/n #jonah hauer king imagine #jonah hauer king fanfiction #jonah hauer king x fem reader #jonah hauer king x you #my stuff #jonah hauer king smut

12 notes · View notes

physalian · 12 days ago

Text

I’ll have Jon Stewart on in the background while I work on Tuesdays now, and just watched him debate a guy over DEI/wokeism and I am not here to say which of them I agree with. But I think a company like mine is a microcosm of why DEI, in theory, is something a lot of people support without the “DEI” label giving it Connotations. But DEI, in practice, isn’t effective.

I volunteered—volunteered—to sit on my company’s shiny new DEI council a while back. I was not getting paid any extra for this extra work and any work I did outside my normal working hours, I only got paid for if I also did OT for my actual job.

Well. I left my seat on the council because one of the men in charge, a very conservative Christian, gave me shit for wanting to include secular Christmas traditions for a holiday campaign we were doing. You know. Because Christmas isn’t just celebrated by fundamental Christians. I made all the internal marketing content, from scratch, for no extra pay, so I got my way and then quit before they had time to find someone else to redo it. (which is just. Par for the course. Him: Only what I care about matters. Me: How about I spotlight the things we both care about equally? Him: No.) Of the 8 sentences for the "Christmas" description, seculars got 2 of them.

I had looped in my company’s shiny new CPO (chief people officer) as she’s the head of the DEI group, on my resignation email, and then had a nice long private chat with her ripping the guy to pieces. He’s been with the company forever, so I knew he wouldn’t get any consequences, but it was very, very clear that he was on the council to keep us from doing anything upsetting.

In our candid conversation, this very nice lady who had no idea what she signed up for joining my super conservative company, talked about how sensitive some employees were about all kinds of things and how frustrating it was trying to do nice culture things even beyond DEI. Like, can’t have a pie eating contest because somebody’s diabetic and is offended (who wasn’t going to participate anyway, when the option to buy a special pie just for them was offered). Just constantly being met with opposition for the most asinine reasons. I hate the hot dog eating contest, to the point that I’d likely get sick just watching or listening or even smelling hotdogs, it's triggering—guess what? I can just. Leave the room while it happens. But somebody got offended so the pies were cancelled.

Other things, too, like including any perceived "white people blaming" for various holiday awareness campaigns. Like Pride, or Native American History Month, or Black History Month. It all had to be sanitized so it didn't "bring down the mood". Looped right back around to being racist and patronizing.

And when she asked me what I’d do better to change the council, first of all I’d make it paid, even a tiny stipend, because asking those of us in the company who are already marginalized to dedicate more time and effort for no extra money just to be seen, meanwhile those sitting comfy do absolutely nothing, is ass-backwards.

But the thing I tried to explain to her was this: Putting up Pride flags once a year is great and all, but the bones of this company are the problem. The people you continue to hire are the problem. The personalities you look for in your salespeople are the problem. The “work hard/play hard” toxic work culture you spout is the problem. Raises consistently falling behind inflation is the problem. Making it painfully, explicitly clear that the big boss only gives a shit about sales, to an entire office filled with people who run his company, to our faces, is the problem. I wouldn't care about the kindergarten-friendly culture campaigns if you weren't also patting yourselves on the back for being so inclusive and progressive.

Of course you’re going to meet opposition from people with zero incentive to care, who know they’re protected by the “we’re a family” company culture. Of course your cutesy little marketing campaigns will land on deaf ears when they require no active participation and offer no incentive to pay attention to. I mean, I guess it’s better than nothing, but you’re trying to drive a Pride float with flat tires and broken axels. Yeah, it’s a float, it sure is glittery, but it’s not gonna go anywhere.

Get C-suite to show they give a shit, first, and that they’re going to make some real changes to help their employees not be marginalized to necessitate a whole council in the first place. Otherwise, all the company parties in the world don’t mean a thing when I have to literally live an entire city away from my office because I can’t afford rent within driving distance.

#dei #toxic work culture #jon stewart #physh be rambling

5 notes · View notes

lucysweatslove · 1 year ago

Text

I have way too much on my plate and am in such a bad mood.

Last night my parents decided to have another argument over my dad’s new speakers. For context, he got his old set in the 90s. He started looking into a new setup a couple years ago. This was a huge source of strife in their definitely not super rocky marriage (sarcasm) where my dad would go to Best Buy just to listen to cool speakers and have to hide it from my mom. Note that both my parents are working professionals and have more than enough money for new speakers. They have a very nice retirement nest egg and are well off enough to literally pay for my med school without any issues. They paid off their home years ago.

My dad is also huge into music. For as long as I can remember, his music collection has been super prized and special. Once I took one of his CDs and almost lost it, and it was so distressing to him that he moved his entire collection away from the family’s. He would put loud surfer music on to relax when I was a kid and spent a lot of time watching music performances from the 60s and 70s. He got Sirius XM when I was in middle school and would routinely quiz me on the music, saying I should just be able to recognize a band from their style. When I was a young teen, he shared another album with me when I was sick, and that was like, the most special way he knew how to connect.

My point being, music isn’t a new hobby and my parents have more than enough money to get him a fancy hifi set. My mom just kept refusing because why aren’t the “top of the line” speakers from the 90s good enough?

Well my dad finally got his new speakers but decided to move them to his (home) office. So he did. And that set off another argument with threats of divorce.

And they brought my little sister into the middle of it using hugely manipulative language. Yeah my sis is now technically an adult, but she’s still their child and it’s grossly inappropriate to put your child in between the two of you. She’s a human, not a pawn.

So I woke up in a shit mood already, and I had a busy day of a doctor’s appointment, a therapy appointment, clinical medicine workshop, then a class where I have to give a stupid chalk talk which I’ve been so sick and so busy that I just. Haven’t had time to prepare at all.

And as I start getting dressed, I realize I have no idea if I’m expected to be in professional dress for the workshop because there is no indication online if we have guest panelists or speakers or sim patients. But the professional clothes are all overstimulating and itchy and I was like *this close* to mini meltdown status, so I emailed the course lead to ask… put on clothes that were just comfortable in the mean time… packed a bag with professional clothes to change into if needed..

I get an email back that doesn’t even answer the question, stating that professional attire is required for patients, sim patients, speakers, and panelists. Which I knew. I didn’t know if we had another of those today, because there isn’t any info about it online. I emailed back but haven’t heard back.

My doctor is now running 45 min late (I’ve been here for over an hour), I had to turn off the lights in the exam room because they were too bright, and I had to cancel/reschedule therapy because it was supposed to start at 11.

I’m not mad at anybody in particular other than my parents. I’m just annoyed and overstimulated and want to crawl into a dark pit and sob.

And of course in the car to the hospital, I was practicing telling the nurse I would like to decline being weighed. Because I know it would be triggering. But when she grabbed me, I couldn’t do it.

8 notes · View notes

existentialfantasy · 1 year ago

Text

Sansa Got A Reward

Sansa was nervous, she had emailed her editor, Petyr, the article she just finished. Best case scenario was him suggesting a few changes, worst case would be to get called to his office and be told what a useless writer she was. She wanted to avoid the worst case scenario as she was already running late for a date. She went to the washroom to wash her face, applied some make up to look presentable and got back to her desk, waiting for his email. She texted her date that she might be running late. She was hoping she wouldn’t have to cancel and finally Petyr called her into his office.

She texted the date to wait for her message and walked in to the office bracing for the worst. Petyr was staring into his monitor, reading intently as he signalled her to sit down. She sat down waiting for him to say something.

After a bit more of an awkward silence Petyr said “This is really pathetic work Sansa. I expected better from you, please discard this draft and redo the whole thing. I need it in an hour. When I hired you I expected you to get better pretty fast, but you seem to be regressing with each passing day.”

“Can you please tell me what is wrong with it?” Sansa asked looking him the eye.

“Everything is wrong, the whole point of view is totally biased. So, please think about it again and write. I need it an hour, I don’t like working long hours just because you can’t do your job properly”, Petyr sounded irritated.

“Tell me what I need to do, so that I don’t have to go through this constant criticism from you sir”, Sansa wanted answers.

“Do your job well, don’t wait for me to point out mistakes. Learn from your colleagues who write so well. Margaery is slightly senior to you, but she writes so well. I barely have to correct her” Petyr chided her.

Sansa decided to take matters into her own hands, she got up from the chair and went closer to Petyr. She stood close to him where he could smell her perfume and said “I can work hard in other ways sir, please let me. Just correct my articles, whichever way you see fit. I promise I’ll make you happy”.

Petyr had an idea what she was hinting at, but he didn’t want to get into any trouble. He wasn’t new to pretty young things trying to lure him, and he had been successful at staying away. He loved his wife after all and wanted to keep it that way. He stayed calm and replied “Just do your actual job properly, that’s all I need. I don’t need you to work hard in any other ways.”

“Are you sure sir, I think I caught you staring at my ass a couple of times. I do wear the tight pencil skirts for your viewing pleasure after all, aren’t they enticing you enough”, Sansa moved closer and sat on his desk.

“I love my wife, so you better get back to your desk and start reworking on the article”, Petyr could hear the weakness creeping in his mind and words.

“But my hard work lies here sir, let me prove how hard I can work” Sansa said as she pulled Petyr closer and kissed him, her hand touching his crotch.

Feeling her wet lips on his lips melted any final resistance Petyr had left and he was kissing her back with equal vigour as she started rubbing the hardness growing inside his trousers. His tongue was wrestling with hers, her hands running all over his back inside his shirt.

“Someone might walk in, we might get caught”, Petyr warned her.

” Let them walk in, let them see how hard I work for you editor. Let them see how much I want your approval” she whispered in his ears as she nibbled on his ears.

“I’ll let you work now, let me get back to work too. Do remember this is our secret, nobody has to know” she smiled and got below his desk.

He tried to act as if he was working in case someone walked in, but her hands were moving too fast and before he knew it his cock was in her hands, being stroked so good.

“Oh fuck! I can’t believe you’re making me do this” he moaned, trying to keep his voice low.

Sansa licked his shaft from the head all the way down, getting it all wet, stroking it like a favourite pet. Her pet was responding to her touch and soon enough it was fully grown and ready for more. She took his dick head in her mouth, sucked on it and then pulled out. She looked up into his eyes, he had his eyes closed, trying not to moan too loud. She was stroking him harder and sucking on it like her favourite lollipop, in and out, in and out of her juicy mouth. Her sloppy sucking made him hold on to the chair hard, resist the urge to talk dirty to her as he could still hear people around the office.

“Am I working hard enough now sir? Do you think I’m a better writer than Margaery now?” she teased him before taking him fully inside her, his cock hitting the depths of her throat.

“Oh yes! You are a much better writer than Margaery ever will be” Petyr had no other response for her.

“You will always love my writing and will praise me before everyone going forward, won’t you sir?” Sansa was now taking advantage of his weakness as his cock hit her cheeks, harder and harder.

“Yes, of course. I will ensure your writing is the best of all your colleagues”, Petyr hadn’t felt this turned on ever.

Sansa was now pulling his cock harder, making it hit her throat and cheeks as she massaged his balls. There was a knock on the door and the office boy walked in. Sansa stayed still and didn’t make any noise, it took a great deal of effort for Petyr to stay calm and send him away. He made the boy, lock the door behind him so that nobody would enter again. Once the door was shut again, Sansa was back to sucking her favourite lollipop, playing with his ball sack at the bottom. She knew he could burst any minute, but she wanted him inside her.

“How do you like my hard work sir” she quizzed him as she got back up from below the desk, his throbbing cock still outside his trousers as she pushed his chair back and sat on the desk. Her feet were now on his cock, her pointed heels hurting him.

“Do you like my work sir, tell me you do. Please tell me sir, or I will work harder”, she almost warned him.

“I love your work, you don’t need to work any harder”, Petyr replied as he winced in pain.

Sansa made sure the door was locked and then unbuttoned her blouse, letting it loose as her gorgeous cleavage was now teasing Petyr. She hiked her skirt all the way up and spread her legs, giving him a good look at her red thong.

“Do you like my dressing sense sir?” she asked him, as she squeezed her tits, rubbed her pussy, her heels still pressing down on his cock.

“Yes, I love it” Petyr replied. It was getting hard for him to resist, as she was putting on quite a show for him.

“Then you must reward me for my hard work sir. A nice incentive would only encourage me to work harder for you every day sir. It would make me work weekends too, I’d never leave office at all sir”, Sansa pressed her leg further on his cock.

“Enough hard work, now please stop hurting me. I’ll do as you say always”, Petyr pleaded with her.

“I hope you are a man of your word sir” Sansa smiled at the tortured look on his face. She got up and sat on his lap, spreading her legs around him, kissing his mouth wildly, biting his lips and sucking his tongue. She hugged him tightly and started jumping up and down, grinding on his manhood, arousing him further as she tugged at his hair. Petyr knew he was getting late for a movie with the wife, but in that moment all he wanted to do was to pound Sansa, show her who the boss really was.

“Touch my wet pussy sir, see how hard I worked for you, how wet I got for your thick cock sir”, Sansa whispered in his ears as he bit her lips and grabbed her ass, squeezing it, slapping it as she grinded on his cock.

“Oh I’ll do more than just touch it, I want to do a great many things to it” Petyr was finally finding his mojo as she was within his grasp.

“Please do it sir, I can’t wait to find out what those great many things are” she took his fingers in her mouth and sucked on them.

He moved down to her collarbone, sucking and biting on it as he slapped her ass, pulling down her bra and letting her gorgeous titties loose. They looked far too inviting for him to stay away. He squeezed them together and took them in his mouth, sucking and licking. He dug his teeth into them as she held him by the hair and pushed him deeper into her cleavage, moaning as he devoured her succulent breasts.

“Oh sir! I want you to fuck me so hard, I want you to make me your little bitch and pound my wet needy pussy. Can you do that sir?” she moaned as he sucked and bit her tits harder.

He hiked her skirt all the way up to her waist, now started rubbing his cock up against her pussy lips, getting them wetter and wetter. Her moans were growing louder as his hand found its way down, searching and then rubbing his clit.

“Oh fuck! Your touch feels so good sir. I wonder how your cock would feel against my pussy” she moaned into his ears.

He rubbed her clit harder, as she rocked her hips, grinding down on his cock, hugging him so tight not allowing even air to get between them.

“Fuck me sir, please. My pussy deserves to be rewarded for all its hard work” she didn’t want to wait any longer.

He held her around his waist and kissing her, got up from the chair and made her sit on the desk. He spread her legs wide and pulled down her thong, rubbing her wet pussy, as he sucked her taut nipples, driving her crazy. Her moans and gasps, egging him on as he rubbed her clit, getting her ready for the hardness that awaited her. She pulled him closer and held his cock, rubbing it on her pussy lips, inviting him to take advantage of her. But he wasn’t ready yet, he took his fingers wet from her juices and sucked on them as she looked him in the eye.

“You taste so good” he mouthed as his fingers went back down to get wet again, this time giving it to her. He made her taste the wetness that oozed out of her, making her hornier than ever. Her body was shivering uncontrollably now, feverishly awaiting his final assault. He decided to not tease her any longer and pulled her closer, kissing her, sucking and licking her neck as his cock was rubbing up against her wet pussy lips, waiting for the opportune moment to make a grand entrance. Her legs were wrapped around his waist as he moved in, still kissing and sucking, entering her smoothly as her wet pussy engulfed his thick cock.

“Ah fuck! Yes sir, you made me wait so long for this. Now reward me, fuck me with your thick married cock. Fuck me like your dirty little bitch. Fuck me like you own this pussy” she moaned as he went deeper, filling her up, stretching her to the limit.

He pulled out and pulled her closer, hitting her harder this time. She dug her nails into his back as his cock thumped her wet pussy. The look on her face and her moans told him how much she was loving it. He held her tightly and started thrusting in deliberate short thrusts, hitting her pussy like he owned it.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck. Just like that, fuck me harder sir. Make me your whore” she moaned and bit his lips as his thrusts were relentless.

She put her hands on his ass, pulling him deeper into her, making him treat her like his personal office bitch. The look in her eyes, driving him to get nastier, choking her neck as he pounded her pussy. He found her clit again and rubbed it non stop, her pussy and clit both being pleasured in equal measure. A heady cocktail of pleasure coursing through every inch of her body, making her throw her head back. She was enjoying the symphony of his tongue, his cock, his fingers all over her naked body, pushing her to the edge where she was trying to hold on for as long as she could.

“Oh Sir! I love how well you reward me for my hard work, please reward me everyday. I want to be your side pussy sir” she moaned as the pressure inside his balls was building up. He slowed down for a few seconds and bit her nipples, making her moan louder, then starting to drill her again. Her entire body was now writhing in intense pleasure, as his cock was truly giving her pussy a reward to remember.

“You better stay back late every night, we have to work on your skills”, he kissed her neck as he drew closer to the edge too. He held her firmly down by her shoulders and now pounded her mercilessly, the pleasure hitting its zenith as she could sense the end nearing for him. And after plundering her a little while longer, he sprayed his seed deep inside her with a loud grunt.

He knew she wasn’t over the edge yet and quickly got down, rubbing her clit, licking her pussy filled with his cum. A few licks and rubs later, she exploded too, her body enveloped by the most amazing orgasm she had ever tasted. His face was dripping with her juices as he looked up and smiled at her. “You just made my wife very angry, I missed my date with her”, he admonished her. “I missed a date for you sir, so let’s call it even” she winked and pulled him up for a sloppy kiss. “If you tell anybody about this, I will get fired” he warned her. “Oh don’t you worry sir! This will be our dirty little secret” she spread her legs, rubbing her wet pussy and then licking her wet fingers.

#Petyr X Sansa #PxS #PetSan #creepyship #creepyshipping #modern setting #smut #fan fic

17 notes · View notes

spades4cards · 2 days ago

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

It had been a week since my almost-kiss with y/n and despite my never-ending meetings and my mountainous amount of work, the only thing spinning through my mind and burning all focus like a wildfire was y/n. How she looked when she admitted our relationship didn't feel work-related, the way she squirmed; turned on by our power dynamic. It took every single fucking ounce to not take her lips in mine and claim that sweet little cunt as my own. I stopped typing up emails for a moment and glanced at y/n in the corner; eyebrows furrowed in concentration, her lip getting ground against her teeth, clicking her pen as she focused on something on her computer.

Never thought I'd be jealous about a damn piece of technology, but here we are. I wonder if she was as affected by that night as I was. I hope it haunts her as it does to me; I need that moment to drive her crazy until all she knows is me. Maybe I was being a little possessive, but what's mine is mine, and I can't have her thinking about another guy, especially not in the same room as me. I guess she noticed that there weren't any more typing sounds on my side, because she looked over at me. I stared back and our surroundings warped and dissipated around us until it was just me and her. Then she looked away, and reality slowly started coming together; piece by piece.

She was clearly scared. Had I pushed too far when I grabbed her wrist the other day? But she also walked to me first or had I misinterpreted the situation? Is she already in a relationship? But Booth didn't report that she was with any guy, and the CCTV cameras had shown she didn't take a guy back to her apartment-

Ding!

Reminder: Zoom Meeting in 5 Minutes

The big, bold words popped up on my computer screen and yanked me out of my tornado of thoughts. Y/n had (very awkwardly) given me my files earlier, so I already had that under control. The only thing I didn't have under control were my thoughts of y/n.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

I have never hated work more. Every single stare, every accidental touch, every word had tension wildly erupting from it and filling my lungs; suffocating me and restricting my breathing. I have never held my breath so much in my life as I had this week. And that one night- that one motherfucking night was the cause of all this. Why would I walk up to him and why the fuck would he pull me back? The angel on my right told me to keep my distance as I was now, and the devil on the left told me I should confront but be all sexy about it and sleep with him. I don't know whose voice is louder, which says a lot. Thankfully, work has been so busy I managed to drown out the mischievous voices in my head and drown myself in my ocean of tasks.

What I wasn't thankful for, however, was late nights at the office. It was 9:46 p.m. and most of the employees clocked out at around 5-8 p.m., leaving me and Christian alone again. This was the time when we didn't even glance at each other and pretend we didn't exist unless Christian needed something.

Ring, ring, ring!

It was Jules calling in our group chat with Bridget and Ava. I picked up and walked out of his office just in case Christian could hear Jules', er, unorthodox way of talking. Thankfully, all she had to say was that she couldn't come to happy hour this week, so everyone decided not to go. I came back to see Christian glaring at me. That's odd, he's never this pissed when I take calls.

"Who was that?" He asked, his eyes digging up mine as if trying to uncover the truth.

"No one," why did he have to know about my personal life?

"Was it a guy?"

There's no fucking way he just asked me that.

"Yes," no.

"Is he your boyfriend?" He interrogated, standing up and walking over.

He walked over to me, I took steps back, "My date."

Eventually, my back bumped into the wall and he was right in front of me; serving as a barrier from the rest of the world.

"Cancel it," he demanded.

"Why?" My face was a picture of innocence.

He tilted my chin up, and my pulse jumped, "Because I said so."

"Why do I have to listen to you?" My eyes bore into his with fiery defiance.

"Because if you don't, I'm going to gut that fucking guy from the inside out."

That sentence shouldn't have turned me on, but I could practically feel my blood heat up.

"I didn't know you liked me that much," I said as my gaze drifted to his lips.

"I liked you- no, I was fucking obsessed with you as soon as you stepped foot in my office and I swear to god hiring you was the biggest mistake because ever since I did it's only you running through my mind and blocking all my focus."

That was all it took. We didn't both lean into the kiss—no, we rushed to it, ran to it before it could warp into thin air like all of our other interactions. I could've sworn a ghost had possessed my body because the need inside of me was so wild and controlling that I couldn't believe it was mine. I hastily unbuttoned his shirt; he tore my blouse, I dragged his pants off and he yanked my pencil skirt to the side. All of our clothes fell into a heap under us until we were both clad in our undergarments. He hoisted me to his chest so I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried us to his room. I was never allowed in his room, and it looked exactly as I expected it would: lush, grey bedsheets and blankets, modern paintings hung neatly on the walls, and green plants to round the atmosphere. He laid me on the grey bed and dragged his gaze across my body.

I could feel his eyes burning into every valley and crook of me; feel them linger at the swell of my breasts and my panty line before going up to take in my flushed skin and tousled hair as if it was caressing and teasing me. We were so frantic and in need that we didn't stop and look at each other- stop and see each other.

"Tell me what you want," he rasped as his hand trailed up my inner thigh. When I didn't respond, he yanked my panty line, making me arch at the sting of pain, "I said tell me what you want."

"I- I want you," I whimpered breathlessly.

"Want me to what?" His fingers found my wetness, grazing, and teasing but never touching.

"I want you to fuck me with your fingers."

Normally I would've been ashamed of my words but I was so hazed with need and pent-up sexual frustration I couldn't find the ability to care. His thumb reached my clit as he inserted two digits and I whimpered, arching into his fingers; desperate for more friction. He pumped in and out, eliciting moans and whimpers that paired with the filthy squelching sounds of his fingers in me. I could feel my climax build at the base of my spine; creeping and creeping...

When he pressed on my g-spot and applied pressure to my clit, tidal waves of pleasure ran through me until I was drowning so badly I didn't think I would ever see the shore again. He kept pumping, drawing out my orgasm until I was a limbless heap of post-orgasmic bliss. Before I could even lift my head up, warm, large hands grabbed my thighs and spread them.

Riiip!

Foil tore and that was the only warning I got before fullness enveloped me, making stars burst behind my eyelids. I cried out and threw my head back; overwhelmed by how good it hurt. He made an inhuman, deep growl as he thrusted in long, powerful strokes. I could feel each moment wash through me; it was like happiness in how it pleasantly rose in my chest, fear in how it engulfed me, except it was buoyant where it lacked and overdoing where it lacked. A knot formed low in my stomach and loosened with each thrust until it fell free, causing me to yell so loudly it felt like the sound echoed off the walls. Christian kept going; gentler now, and more shallow until he came with a guttural groan. After a few moments and ragged breaths, he drew out and threw his condom somewhere to the side before laying down. I was too sated to care if I should leave or not, so I just fell asleep right there with a soft, content smile playing on my lips.

-ˋˏ✄————————————————————————————————

I woke up with crusted drool smeared at the edge of my mouth and puffy, tired eyes. I yawned and stretched before pausing at the nudeness my blanket revealed when it fell. Wait a minute, that wasn't my cheetah print blanket...

Realization slammed into me and shattered me into a million pieces as I looked at the room and my memories pieced together.

Oh my fucking god.

I just slept with my boss who I betrayed less than two weeks ago.

#ana huang #twisted series #twisted lies #x reader smut #fem reader #x reader #reader smut #christian harper #smut writing #x you smut #smut #straight smut

0 notes

watchmegetobsessed · 3 years ago

Text

WILDEST FANTASIES (part 8)

⚫️A/N: alrighty, i feel like its a part we have all been waiting for, so i won't keep you guys up any longer! the credits for the inspo of the last scene goes out to that anon who sent me a prompt about it, i really loved it and decided to use it 👀

⚫️PAIRING: Professor!Harry X Reader

⚫️WARNING: sexual content

⚫️WORD COUNT: 7.7k

SERIES MASTERPOST

Something is off with you, Harry can feel it. Your text yesterday about having fun was so out of the blue and he couldn’t really put the pieces together. He didn’t tell you about the farewell dinner so you couldn’t possibly know he was going anywhere. If he is being honest, he was contemplating canceling just to be with you for a few hours, if it’s even just sitting in his car in a parking lot, but then Nina asked if she could ride with him so he had to go.

He tried to text you a few more times throughout the evening, but you ignored them all and then sent him a vague reply saying you had a lot to study. He had no reason to question if you were telling the truth or not, but it just didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.

You haven’t texted him all day and it’s odd not to hear anything from you for so long. He is starting to worry that he did something to hurt you or what’s worse, you changed your mind about him.

“Alright, the final assignment is due tomorrow, please make sure to upload it in time, I don’t want to read excuse emails all weekend,” he sighs as he finishes his second to last class of the day. Students start packing and chatter fills the room as he sits back to his chair to gather his notes as well. As everyone flows out of the room they say their goodbye to the professor and he smiles back at the warmly.

Grabbing his phone he checks the screen but sees no new message from you so he decides to text you again.

HARRY: Having a busy day? Anyway, I’m thinking about you. As always.

As soon as he hits send, he cringes a bit. Was it too much? Is it why you’re so distant? Because he is being too intimate and not at all casual?

He stares at the message thread for a while, waiting for the three little dots to pop up as you type, but you don’t even open the message. Groaning, he locks the phone and gathering his stuff he heads back to his office. Nearing the building, he notices your figure lingering at the entrance, you seem like you’re debating whether you should go in or not. As far as he knows, you don’t have any classes in that building, so the only reason why you’d be here is to see him. However, it doesn’t make much sense after avoiding his texts all day.

As a sudden idea, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and dials your number, hiding behind a tree from where he can see you but you won’t spot him. He watches you get your phone from your coat’s pocket, staring down at the screen for way longer than Harry would like you to contemplate answering the call and just when he is sure you’ll decline the call you finally accept it.

“Hey,” he hears your voice only through the line, you’re standing too far from him to actually hear your voice.

“Hey, what’s up? Haven’t heard from you all day,” he clears his throat, trying to sound as casual as possible. His eyes are glued to you as you move to the edge of the pavement so you’re not in the way of anyone passing by.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve been pretty busy with studying and everything…” you trail off, kicking the dirt around, crossing your free arm across your body as you keep the phone at your ear with the other. Even from afar, you seem stressed and maybe even uncomfortable to be talking to him, but he has no idea what happened that changed the dynamic between the two of you.

“Are you sure it’s just that? Don’t mean to be nosy, but you sound a little off. You know you can talk to me, right?”

You stay still, staring down at your feet before he sees you shaking your head and running a hand through your hair. Now he knows something is up and he is determined to figure out what it is.

“Do I know?” you ask back and it’s like a punch in his stomach. “I mean, I didn’t know we were doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Like… the talking and… connecting.”

This is not making sense to him, last time you saw each other was in class and you were your usual self, but now… it’s like you’re trying to keep him at an arm’s distance for some reason, but he has no idea why.

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” he breathes out, panic rising in his guts.

“No, what are we doing?” you snap back and he sees how you spin around angrily. “I just…”

“Talk to me, please! Because I really don’t know where this is heading and it’s stressing me out.”

“That’s the thing, where is this heading, Harry? What is this exactly?”

“Is that what’s bothering you? That there’s no label on it?”

“Honest to God, I have no idea what’s bothering me exactly,” you admit. “It’s all just a mess in my head.”

“But what messed it up? You seemed alright just yesterday, did something happen?”

You hesitate and he fights the urge to just walk over to you and talk in person. It would look creepy though if he just appeared and talking so openly is not a bright idea either around here.

“Maybe… we should talk things out,” you offer and though it’s not an answer to his question, it’s still something he can work with.

“Yes, of course. Are you free right now?” he asks, his heart hammering in his chest as he stares at your figure in the distance. You glance up at the building and then turning around you start walking away, his heart sinking.

“No, not really. But I can drop by your office tomorrow late afternoon.”

“Alright, sure. If you want, you can spend tomorrow night at my place too, we can extend your stay,” he says, as you walk out of his sight.

“I’m not sure about that. But I have to go now.”

“Okay, take care.”

“You too. Bye.”

The line goes dead before he could look at the screen.

Keeping yourself away from Harry is like staying away from chocolate when you’re on diet. Torturous.

It’s not what you want, but you figured it’s what you need. Jealousy has been eating you away since you heard him and Professor Alvarez in his office and you know it’s immature not to talk to him, but you feel like you need time to think it through before actually having a conversation with him. His phone call surprised you yesterday, especially because you were just in front of the building where his office is, contemplating to see if he is there. Hearing his voice almost broke your tough act, you wanted nothing else than to throw yourself into his arms, but you need to be rational now.

You can’t jump into this head first if he is not even on the same page as you. You’re aware you never agreed that this would be something exclusive, that neither of you will be seeing other people, but it felt like you had a silent agreement.

Guess you were wrong.

Keeping yourself away for a bit from Harry was necessary because you didn’t want to act out of anger and pure jealousy, making yourself look like an immature baby. No, you want to approach the matter like an adult, a grown woman you want Harry to see you as.

Making it through Friday is a pain in the ass. You keep checking the time every five minutes even though you’re not meeting him until just late in the afternoon. You wanted to think out everything you’re gonna say and ask, but as the day carries on, your mind empties out and you have no idea how this is going to go down.

You’re still planning to go to Zion’s birthday party today, right after meeting Harry so you can just go straight to the bar and get shitfaced right away in case your conversation with him doesn’t end well.

When your classes finally end you rush home to change and get ready for the evening. You’ve already planned out what you want to wear and you’d be lying if you said the outfit was meant to get Zion’s attention. You’re more curious to see Harry’s face when he sees you in a black corset, a black, sheer long sleeve top underneath and your favorite tight jeans with knee-high, black boots. The corset is your secret weapon, only wear it on special occasions and today you want Harry to regret ever even thinking about another woman.

Is it petty? Probably, but you still want it.

You look hot. As you stare at your reflection in your full body length mirror, you come to the conclusion that if Harry won’t be affected by just seeing you in this outfit, he is not worth the stress and time you’ve been wasting on him.

“You’ve got this,” you nod at yourself before grabbing your coat and heading out.

Harry has finished his last class a while ago and has been sitting in his office anxiously waiting around for you to show up, unable to focus on anything. It’s been a struggle he’s been facing since you’ve came into his life for sure, he feels like a lovesick teenager having a crush and dreaming about her day and night.

But for fuck’s sake, he is thirty-two, a grown man, and yet, he still has his knickers in a twist even at just the thought of you, he needs to get his shit together. Hopefully, this situation will be sorted out today.

He fights the urge to text you to see if you’re already on your way to his office, he is not trying to look like a desperate loser though he definitely feels like one. Busying himself with sorting out one of his shelves, putting the books he doesn’t need into a box that’s been lying on the floor for weeks, he is able to get his thoughts off of you just for the shortest time. That is until he realizes he is standing right where he had you pinned against the shelves not long ago the day when you left your second writing on his car. He will never forget the way you begged him to just think about giving you a chance. He was so close to fucking you right then at that moment, just press you against the shelves, have your legs hook around his hips and pound into you. Nothing has ever needed that much of his self-control in his life and if only Nina didn’t interrupt the moment, he would have snapped.

Now that the turning point has happened and he has had a taste of you, he is hooked. Completely intoxicated by you and he hasn’t even fucked you. He knows that when the moment comes, it’ll be the end of him.

When he hears footsteps approaching his office he knows it’s you. He is not sure if it’s because he recognizes your steps or it’s just a sixth sense he has developed to always be aware of your presence, but he takes a deep breath running a hand through his hair right when he hears the knocking on the door.

“Come in!” he calls out. The doorknob turns and when the door opens and he sees your figure behind it, the air gets caught in his throat.

The corset. The damn corset. He is not sure if he wants to rip it off of your body or wants nothing else but that on you while he fucks you until you forget your own name.

“Hey,” you breathe out as you walk inside, closing the door behind you, taking a few steps further into the room, seemingly feeling out of place.

“Hi! You look… uhh, you look amazing, Y/N,” he says as he can’t take his eyes off of the way the corset pushes your breasts up, the swell of them on showcase through the sheer top. His mouth salivates.

“Thanks,” you nod, chewing on your bottom lip and he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth curls up the slightest.

Rounding his desk he gets to the front of it and leans against it, hands holding onto the edge as he looks at you, not quite sure how to start this.

“So, will you tell me what I did that upset you?” he asks softly.

“You didn’t do anything you shouldn’t have,” you start, thinking your words through carefully as you speak. “I guess I just put things into a different lighting.”

“Do you mind explaining that to me? Because I’m a little lost right now.”

Before you could answer, your phone starts ringing and letting out a sigh you fish it out of your purse, seeing Zion’s name on the screen.

“Just give me a second,” you tell Harry as you answer the call. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey, when are you planning to arrive?” he asks, judging from his voice he is quite enjoying himself, maybe he has already started pre-gaming for the party.

“Um, not sure, I have to take care of something quickly.”

Harry catches most of what Zion says on the other end of the line and he is not at all pleased that you’re talking to another guy when you’re supposed to be talking to him. Jealousy bubbles in his chest and it clouds his mind more than he could control. Clenching his jaw, he keeps listening to your conversation.

“Do you need a ride? I can get one of my friends come and get you if you want.”

“No need, I’m alright. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay, just let me know if you change your mind. Can’t wait to see you!”

“Thank you, see you soon. Bye,” you say quickly before ending the call. When you look back at Harry you see the change in him loud and clear. The way he stands, how he is looking at you, it’s not how he welcomed you just moments ago into his office.

“You’re seeing someone tonight?” he asks, the sass in his tone is impossible to miss.

“I have plans,” you nod shortly.

“With the same guy from the gala?” he cocks his head to the side and you don’t like the attitude he is giving you right now, as if you did something wrong.

“Yes, I’m seeing Zion tonight. Is there a problem with that?” you sass back.

“So you’re seeing the guy you were on a date earlier. That says a lot,” he nods pursing his lips and you already know where this is heading.

“I told you, that wasn’t a date. And you’re the last one to hold shit like that against me, Harry.”

“What does that supposed to mean? I’m not parading around dressed like this, begging for every man’s attention on campus!” he snaps and he regrets his words the moment they roll off his tongue. It was harsh, way meaner than he intended, but he can’t take them back and the look on your face now feels like a punch into his stomach.

“Well, that was a nice way to call me a whore, thank you. I’m out of here.”

You turn on your heels and march up to the door as Harry calls after you frantically, but you have no intention of stopping. You came here with a plan to talk it out maturely, you mustered up all your courage and rationality to have this conversation in an effective way and he threw that right out the window, so now you have to get away from him before you say something you might regret.

“Y/N! Y/N, wait!” he calls after you, but you don’t even react. “Fuck,” he mumbles as running back to his desk he grabs his stuff, locks the office and bolts after you.

You’re out of the building by the time he catches up with you and now that you’re out in the public, the situation just became a lot more limited. Harry finally reaches you and grabbing a hold of your arm he pulls you back, turning you around.

“Hey, don’t walk away when we are having a conversation!”

“It’s not a conversation I want to keep having, if you haven’t realized,” you snap back, but realize you should keep your voice down before someone catches onto what’s happening.

“I didn’t mean it like that, okay? It came out entirely wrong, I just…”

“You just what?” you hiss back at him. “You just assumed shit about me from the tiniest fraction of information and didn’t even let me explain myself!”

“It was a mistake, okay? Can we actually talk this out? Because—“

“Hello, Professor Styles!”

A group of girls walk past the two of you, interrupting the heated conversation. Harry’s jaw clenches as he takes a tiny step away from you, shooting a tightlipped smile towards the girls.

“Hello, Brooklyn,” he grumbles, nodding his head. The girls seem giddy by getting noticed by him and you want to claw their eyes out seeing the way they are gawking at him. The two of you wait in silence until they are out of hearing range before he leans back closer to you.

“Come to my place, we can talk there.”

“I don’t have the time,” you answer right away, keeping up the tough act.

“Don’t fucking tell me you’re gonna be late to meeting him,” he growls, his eyes on fire as he exhales sharply through his nose.

“Or what? Feels shitty when you’re not the only one, huh?”

He picks up on the spite in your tone, but he can’t put the picture together just yet. However, he knows he has to get to the end of it or he’ll lose his mind.

“Get in my car, now,” he orders and starts walking towards his car that’s parked near the building, in sight from where you’re standing. You follow him to the car, but don’t make an attempt to get in and Harry notices right away. Walking around the vehicle he opens the passenger side’s door and looks around to make sure the air is clear before he steps so close to you, his chest is almost pressing up against yours. “Get in there or I’ll do it myself, Y/N. I don’t fucking care who you’re trying to fuck tonight, we’re gonna have this talk.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the threat and it definitely ignites a fire between your legs. You hate yourself for loving it so much when he is so dominant and bossy, makes you want to fall to your knees for him no matter what.

Running your tongue over your lips you keep eye contact with him for a few more seconds before climbing into the car. Harry shuts the door angrily and the sound of it makes you jump a little. He gets behind the wheel a moment later and you leave the parking lot in complete silence.

You feel like a kid who got into trouble and her dad had to come pick her up, but it’s ridiculous, because you didn’t even do anything. If someone is in trouble, it should be him for going on casual dates with Professor Alvarez and then getting mad when you’re seeing other people as well, even though you’re not interested in hooking up with Zion again, he is genuinely just a friend.

Arriving to Harry’s house he parks down without a word and gets out of the car, heading to the front door without even checking if you’re following. The childish part of you would love to throw a tantrum for the lack of attention, but you’re also very confused about what’s gonna happen now. Folding your arms on your chest you drag yourself after him, reaching him just when he opens the door and he holds it open for you to walk in first, still a gentleman. Nothing has changed since the last time you were here last weekend, but it still feels like it’s been an eternity since you sucked his dick while the pasta was boiling that evening.

You shimmy yourself out of your coat and drape it across the back of the couch and you lean against it as well, staring back at him, waiting for him to make the next step, because he was the one who basically dragged you here like an absolute caveman.

Harry has gotten rid of his own coat and he is now standing a few feet away from you, hands on his hips as he is seemingly trying to figure out what to do or say.

“What did you mean when you said it feels shitty when you’re not the only one?” he then finally asks, eyes snapping up to meet your gaze. His stare is so intense, you have to look away from him, because you feel it in your guts.

“I meant that it’s bold of you to get mad at me for spending time with someone else when you’ve been going on little dates with Professor Alvarez.”

“With Nina?!” he asks in confusion and you hate it that he calls her by her first name.

“So she’s just Nina to you, huh?” you scoff, though deep down you know you’re being petty.

“She is just a friend of mine, Y/N. I thought we were over this, that dinner was nothing but something to pass time with while you were here that day.”

“I’m not talking about only that. I heard the two of you the other day, don’t try to lie to me,” you spite back, finally looking at him as your anger bubbles in your chest.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t go to dinner with her on Wednesday, I heard her in your office, when you talked about going together and how excited she was about the place you were going to,” you scoff, mocking her voice as you speak.

“Y/N, we did go to dinner, but not just the two of us. It was Dr. Kennedy’s retirement dinner with a bunch of other people from the department!”

All blood rushes out of your head as you realize that you’ve fucked up. Big time. You were the one to assume first from hearing just a few words of a conversation and it didn’t even occur to you that it was something entirely different than what you thought.

“Well,” you start, holding onto the remainder of your pride, “I might have been wrong, but that doesn’t change the fact that she wants more than just friendship from you.”

“First of all, she doesn’t,” he replies and you roll your eyes at him, he is such a blind, gullible man. “Second, if she does, that has nothing to do with me, because I don’t want her like that, we are just good friends, won’t be anything else.”

“Oh, so you can spend time with people who want to fuck you, but I can’t?” you point out pursing your lips, pretending to be thinking hard about how all of this is fair.

“But I never fucked Nina! You can’t say the same thing about your little friend!” he snaps back.

“And what does that have to do with you, huh? We never even agreed on what this is, you don’t have the right to tell me who I can meet!”

“We never agreed because you never even gave me the chance to bring it up, you’ve been fucking avoiding me for days, telling me you have shit to do when you’re literally in front of the building when we’re on the phone!”

“You fucking saw me?” you gasp. “And you just pretended like you didn’t?”

“I wanted to see your reaction, because you weren’t saying shit to me,” he throws at you. “Turns out you were being distant because you were reconnecting with your fuck buddy!”

“I’m not trying to fuck Zion! The only person I’m trying to fuck is you!” At this point, you lose your temper and throw all your plans out the window to keep your cool and be mature. “I’m going insane thinking about you with anyone else, because why wouldn’t you want someone else, we never agreed that it’s exclusive and I’m not a mature, hot, age appropriate professor you work with, I literally had to beg you to even give me a chance! I’m trying to save myself from the pain for when you’ve had enough of me, when you get bored of me!”

With your chest heaving, you unload all your fears and doubts you couldn’t get rid of. In the meanwhile, he just stands there, completely still, staring back at you with his lips slightly parted.

“I can’t stop thinking about you and I’m so afraid that once you get what you want from me, you’ll just… throw me away.” By the end of the sentence your voice dies down and you stare back at Harry trying your best to hold your tears back that are threatening to spill. It’s the reason why you were so bothered by the thought of him and Professor Alvarez spending time together, because deep down you’ve convinced yourself that he would choose her in a heartbeat and you’d end up with a broken heart, because your feelings for him are more than just a physical attraction and it scares you that he might not return these feelings.

As you stare at Harry, you’re afraid this outburst just ruined all of your chances. That this is going to be the moment when he tells you to leave and never talk to him again and that will be the end of it. You’re bracing yourself for the worst, your insides trembling as he just keeps staring at you without a word and it’s making you lose your mind.

And then it all happens so fast.

One moment you’re about to start crying, the next he closes the distance between the two of you and his lips crash down against yours, hands grabbing onto the back of your thighs, urging you to jump and you obey blindly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he kisses you like his life depends on it.

You forget everything you just unloaded on him, the only thing that matters is the way your body is pressed up against his, his fingers digging into your thighs, lips devouring yours and his tongue is classing against yours violently. He is rushed and wild, not holding himself back at all as he starts walking, but you’re too busy kissing him back to check where he is taking you.

A moment later your ass lands on something hard and when he pulls back, gasping for air, you realize that you’re sitting on top of his dining table.

“Y/N, I can’t fucking stop thinking about you. You’re making me go crazy. If you think that I could even look at another woman, you’re out of your mind.”

With a growl, he is back at attacking your lips and you can’t hold your moan back as he jerks you forward, your core meeting his groin and you can already feel him hardening in his pants. His hands rush to the top of the corset, but with his mouth on yours he can’t figure out how to get it off of you.

“This fucking… thing,” he breathes out, tearing himself away from you as he focuses on the corset.

“They are just like bra hooks,” you chuckle out of breath, showing him how to get it off. Once he gets the hang of it, he is quick to unhook the whole thing and it falls from around your abdomen, leaving you only in your sheer top. The corset has enough support that you don’t need a bra underneath, so your breasts are now on full display in front of his greedy eyes. For a few long minutes, he is just staring at you, his breathing still rapid and heavy and then his gaze snaps up to meet yours.

“And you were gonna meet another guy like this?”

“Well, I had the corset on, so—“

You don’t get to finish, he kisses you again, hard, and he is quick to rid you of that sheer top before his mouth moves down the column of your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin until he reaches your breasts. He is leaning onto you so much that you’re almost lying on top of the table as his mouth covers your nipple, a deep moan rumbling through your chest at the feeling of his lips and tongue on you.

“Fuck! Oh my God,” you gasp for air, his hand kneading your other breast, pinching your nipple to rile you up more.

“Do you still want to meet your friend? You want to leave, Y/N?” he asks against your skin, eyes flickering up to you as he watches you come undone underneath him.

“No, I just want you!” you whine, so desperate for him like never before.

With a hand on your chest, he pushes you down until you’re actually lying on top of the table, he straightens up and takes a moment to just look at you, topless, completely gone for him. It’s a sight he could get used to for the end of time.

He takes off your boots, though mentally he is already thinking of the time he’ll fuck you in them and only them. Throwing to the side he unbuttons your pants and drags them off you, leaving you in only your simple black thong. It’s not as fancy as the one you had on last time you were here, but you couldn’t care less about your lingerie right now.

Feeling a bit too exposed with him still fully dressed, you involuntarily move an arm to cross over your chest, but he is quick to stop you, his hand wrapping around your wrist to keep it by your side.

“Don’t even think about covering up. I want to see what’s mine,” he growls and you gasp at his words.

His. You’re his.

“I want to see you too,” you beg him, maneuvering your hand until you can lace your fingers together with his, squeezing it.

Licking his lips, he leans down and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your stomach before he pulls back and takes his t-shirt off, revealing his naked torso with all the tattoos you want to trace with your fingers until you know them by heart. Keeping his gaze on you, he unbuttons his pants and takes his sweet time tugging them off, leaving him only in his boxer briefs, his cock deliciously hard against the elastic fabric.

Hooking his fingers into your underwear, he pulls them off of you, throwing it behind him before his hands push your knees apart, exposing you fully to him.

“This sweet little cunt has been stuck on my mind 24/7 these past weeks,” he murmurs, bringing a finger to your pussy, slowly running it between your wet folds, teasing you with how gentle he is when all you want is to be ruined by him. “I don’t want anyone else to even think about having you like this. I want to be the only one.”

“You are the only one!” you gasp, when he starts to draw circles to your sensitive clit, smearing your arousal across your soft skin.

“Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N? Is that what you want?”

“Yes! Please!” you cry out, when he pushes one single finger into you, knowing how crazy he is driving you with not giving you what you want. Deep down you know it’s kind of a punishment.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, professor! Please, fuck me!”

“Good girl, knows exactly what I want to hear,” he smiles at you wickedly before he leans down and brings you joy with that perfect mouth of his.

“Oh, fuck!” you gasp, because he is not holding back on you, sucking and licking as if you were his favorite treat. Boys you’ve been with kind of just pretended like they knew what they were doing when they went down on you, but Harry is a fucking professional, could make you come with just his mouth and tongue in minutes.

You cry out in pain when he stops abruptly, but you don’t have much chance to protest, he scoops you up from the bed until you have your arms and legs wrapped around him and he takes you straight to his bedroom while you kiss him wherever you can reach, his neck, jawline, biting his earlobe gently before he throws you to his med, climbing on top of you, his lips crashing down against yours right away. Running your hands down his back, you grab onto his ass, bringing him closer to you, both of you moaning when his erection presses against your wet cunt.

“Impatient, huh?” he growls against your mouth, nibbling on your bottom lip.

“This foreplay needs to end,” you breathe out, making him chuckle, but it quickly turns into a moan, when you bring a hand to his crotch and palm him through his underwear. Hooking your fingers into the elastic, you drag it down just enough to free him and while your hand wraps around his cock, he gets rid of the last piece of clothing he was wearing. Holding himself up above you, his head falls forward, forehead resting against your chest as you start pumping him, imagining what it’ll feel like to finally have him inside of you.

Harry reaches to the nightstand and grabs a condom from the drawer. His cock slips out from your hold as he kneels up, tearing the package open with his teeth. He watches you intently as he rolls the condom on and you’re on the verge of passing out, that’s how badly you want him. This moment has been keeping you on the edge for so long now, it almost appears like another of your fantasies.

“I’m only doing this if you tell me you’re mine. I will not be sharing you with anyone, Y/N. I’m a very jealous man, if you haven’t realized it.”

He just stares down at you, his chest rising and falling heavily as he holds his cock with one hand, ready to finally take you.

“I’m yours. All yours,” you gasp, your hips buckling at the sight of him. He exhales sharply through this nose, his hand that’s not busy with his cock grabs onto your thigh and he digs his fingers into the trembling muscles.

“Fuck, you are ruining me, Y/N,” he breathes out as he lines himself up with you, but only pushes the head inside. He stops and then comes back on top of you, his chest pressing against yours as his lips capture your mouth in a searing kiss, his hips moving forward slowly as he fills you up entirely.

“Oh my God,” you moan into his mouth, his big, thick cock stretching your walls out slowly and he gives you time to adjust to his size, staying still as he kisses your face all over, murmuring sweet nothings as you focus on your breathing.

“You’re fucking perfect. So perfect for me, Y/N. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”

His hand squeezes your hip, moving up your side and ribs, kneading your burning body as you finally feel confident that you’ll be able to take him.

“You can move,” you tell him, your voice barely more than just a whisper.

“I’m gonna start slow,” he tells you, his lips brushing against yours and you nod. “And then I’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

Just as the words roll off his tongues, he pulls back and thrusts forward again, starting off in a slow rhythm just as he promised. You pull your knees up and hook a leg around his waist, your heel digging into his perky ass as the muscles keep flexing with his movements.

When you thought about this moment before, you were convinced you’d freak out at least a bit, feel like it’s all just a dream, but now that it’s actually happening, you’ve gone to a zone where nothing else exists, just you and Harry.

“Fuck, you’re so big, Harry,” you moan, when he starts to pick his pace up a bit, his hips slapping against yours in a sturdy rhythm.

“Bigger than you imagined, hm?” he growls into your neck before biting the soft skin under your jaw.

“So much bigger!”

Hooking an arm under your left leg, he lifts it until he can put it to his shoulder, reaching a whole new angle now, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N. It’s like you were made for me,” he moans, his stray curls falling to his forehead as he keeps pounding into you and he is so deep inside you with each thrusts that your orgasm is threatening to set you on fire sooner than it ever happened.

“Harry, I’m gonna come!” you warn him, fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Come for me, baby. Want to feel you come so I can give you more,” he urges you, his mouth capturing your lips in a greedy kiss and relief rips through your insides, your walls tightening around his cock as he keeps fucking you, even when you scream his name. “So fucking pretty, I want to see you like this every day,” he pants as you try to catch your breath and he stops for a bit, letting your leg drop from his shoulder so he can wedge himself fully onto you, kissing you deep and hard, still inside you.

You’re seeing stars, this was better than any fantasy you’ve had of him, and it’s not even over yet.

Harry pushes himself up and you whine painfully when his cock slips out of you. You’re still sensitive after your orgasm, but also ready to take whatever he is about to do to you.

“Turn around for me. I want to see that pretty ass,” he tells you as he sits back to his heels, giving you space to move. Your muscles protest as you roll over to your stomach, getting yourself up on all four, your ass sticking up to the air for him and Harry swears he has never seen anything prettier than that. Your delicious ass, your wet folds and pink, glistening pussy, waiting to be fucked just by him. He could cry.

“If only I knew you’ve been sitting on this ass in my class…” he sighs as he kneels up, his hands kneading your ass cheeks, admiring the view in front of him, even giving it a smack, making you gasp at the impact.

“What would have you done, professor?” you coo, glancing over your shoulder and you almost squirm as you see him there, behind you, watching you with a hunger in his eyes you’ve never seen.

“This,” he growls and with one swift movement, he thrusts into you.

Grabbing onto your hips he starts off in a quick pace this time, not bothering to build it up like before. Now he is going rough, his hips slapping against your ass every time his cock buried balls deep inside you.

“Go as hard as you want,” you pant, even though your thighs are aching and you just know his fingers are digging into you so harshly, you’ll have marks on you in the morning. But it doesn’t matter, all you want is to please him better than anyone has ever, to leave a mark in him so he’ll never forget you.

“Y/N,” he grunts as one of his hands come to your back and he pushes you down until your face presses into the pillow, your knees slipping out from underneath you, but you try to keep your ass up for him as he fucks you so good. He holds himself up on his hands on either side of your head and brings one of yours behind you until you reach his hips and hold onto him while he pounds into you relentlessly.

“Harry, I’m getting close again,” you gasp, feeling your second orgasm building up in the pit of your tummy.

At your words, he pushes himself up and off of you, but this time he pulls you with him, your back smacking against his chest, your skin sticking to his as your sweat mixes. He wraps his arms around your abdomen, the two of you working together to find the best position possible. You settle on his lap, arching your back so he can still go deep inside you, your head falls back to his shoulder and his hands come up to your breasts as he starts thrusting again.

“God, Y/N, I can’t fucking believe you,” he moans, sucking in your throat, your whole body shaking at this point. “You’re mine, all of you. Mine.”

“Yes, Harry! Oh my—Ah!” You reach behind him with one hand, grabbing onto his hair harshly while your other one comes to his thigh, the roughness of his hair feels so good underneath your palm, you dig your fingers into the muscles almost exactly where his tiger tattoo is.

“Come for me again, Y/N!” he grunts and you turn your head until your lips could meet his, just when your relief washes over you so suddenly, you forget to breathe for a moment. “Oh my God, I feel your pussy tighten around me, so fucking good,” he cries out and as you remember to breathe again, his thrusts fall out of rhythm and he comes, hard and loud, one hand groping your breast, the other one clasping your stomach as he holds onto you desperately, your mouths melting together, his moan becoming yours and vice versa.

At last, he stops moving, but stays inside of you, and once he has caught his breath, he starts peppering the side of your face, your neck and shoulder with soft kisses. You feel like a ragdoll, your limbs are sore and your pussy is completely destroyed, but you’ve also never felt better.

Harry carefully pulls his softening cock out of you, a whine slipping through your swollen lips as he maneuvers the two of you until you’re lying comfortably on the mattress.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He gets rid of the used condom, throwing it to the little bin next to his night stand before he cradles you into his arms and you gladly cuddle to his side, laying your head onto his chest. As you’re mindlessly drawing around his butterfly tattoo with your finger, a smirk tugs on your lips, growing wider and wider with each passing moment while Harry’s hand is gently rubbing your naked back. Lifting your head you look at him, your chest practically bursting from happiness.

“What got you so smiley?” he chuckles softly, his hand coming from your back to the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair.

“You.”

“Okay,” he smirks.

“So… what does all of this mean?” you ask the question that didn’t get discussed before he jumped at you.

“I’ve told you I’m not the type to do casual. I don’t want that with you either.”

“Then what do you want?” you ask cheekily.

“All of you,” he answers simply.

“So like… I would be your girlfriend?” you ask, feeling like a giddy teenager who is about to have her first boyfriend.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. I want you to be mine.”

“And you would be mine?”

“Absolutely,” he nods, a warm smile spreading across his face as he cranes his neck and you push yourself up until your lips meet in a sweet, chaste kiss. Laying your head back to his chest you sigh happily, you still haven’t wrapped your head entirely around everything that just happened, but it’s slowly settling inside you.

Your hand wanders down his stomach until you find his cock that’s already stiffening again. This man has the stamina of an athlete in his twenties, it’s unbelievable. Driven by a sudden idea, you push yourself up and straddle him with a coy smile.

“What are you doing, hm?” he hums, hands coming to rub your thighs on his sides. You wrap a hand around his cock to help him get fully hard as you bore your eyes into his.

“I want to do something. And I want to do it raw. I’m on the pill and I trust you,” you say, giving him the chance to protest. You would have told him to ditch the condom earlier, but you were so in the zone, you couldn’t have gotten a word out.

“I trust you too,” he nods and then watches you as you lift yourself up just enough to position him to your entrance and then you slowly ease yourself down, his cock filling you up again.

“I’m gonna spell out who my pussy belongs to,” you smirk, biting into your bottom lip as his eyebrows rise up curiously.

“Oh, yeah?” he chuckles and you nod. “Okay, let’s see then.”

You steady yourself, hands on his abdomen on either side of the butterfly tattoo before you start moving your hips carefully, a moan slipping through your lips from feeling him moving inside you.

“H…” he murmurs the first letter and you keep moving. “A...”

“Mhmm,” you giggle softly.

“R… R…”

“Very good,” you praise him, gasping as your walls tighten around him while you draw the last letter out with your hips.

“And… Y.”

“So, who does my pussy belong to?” you ask coyly, lying down on top of him, your chest pressing against his while he is still inside you. His arms come to wrap around you as you cup his face in your hands. Harry pulls his knees up and starts thrusting upwards, his uncovered cock gliding perfectly inside you.

“Mine,” he breathes out. “All mine.”

NEXT PART

Thank you for reading! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #professor!harry #wildest fantasies #harry styles smut

1K notes · View notes

redheadspark · 2 years ago

Note

for druig

come here, come sit in my lap and tell me about your day.

[ COAX ] sender knows receiver has had a lot on their mind, so they hold them for a while to help them relax and hopefully open up.

A/N: Oh darling @multixfandomwriter, this is perfect! Thank you!

Rest Awhile

Summary: Your work day was chaotic, thinking it was never going to end. Luckily, your boyfriend knew how to make your worries melt away

Warnings: a small sliver of angst with with MAJOR fluff too!

"Ugghhh, finally,"

You slammed your laptop shut and closed you eyes, sighing in both relief and in stress as you rested your head against your hands, elbows propped on the table and making you slightly hover of your laptop. Your brain felt so drained and fried at the same time, your head feeling heavy and the threat of sleep behind your eyes. Yet you were also hungry since you were glued to the screen for the lsat 6 hours straight.

If you had to look at one more chat session with some of your alpha male co-workers, you were going to throw your laptop right out the window.

Since the Pandemic, you were all sent to work from home. It was a major shift in your company, everyone having to readjust to not just the new flow, but with a new life in general with barely any social interaction. But that was nearly a year ago, and with some of the workers going back to the office again, you opted to work from home for a couple more months until you were ready to head back.

A blessing and a curse. This night was a curse.

Constant messaging from your co-workers, editing and re-editing some pieces from the newer employees that got hired some months before, and having to go through a email chain with your boss who was not understanding some of the things you were sending him. It was becoming a bit too much some nights, and you had a few of the night ending in tears and wanting to punch a wall. You had to wonder when you went to bed at night if that job was worth it, even with the decent pay and benefits.

Was it though?

Your phone rang, you grumbling a bit and picking it up to briefly see the name on the screen. A face was there with the name, your heart fluttering barely when you saw the blue eyes staring back at you and the signature grin. You swiped it to answer, placing it on speaker.

"Heya, sweetheart." Druig said your petname so sweetly in the phone.

"Hi, Druig," You said, your voice sounding a bit drained and sluggish. You heard a beat of silence on the phone.

"You sound out of it," Druig commented, keeping his voice light, "Rough work session, I take it?"

"Something like that," You replied, taking in a long inhale and rubbing your temples, "I know we were meant to go get drinks tonight with Phastos and Ben, but....I'm so sorry Druig, I just can't."

That was the other curse of having a job from home: you were too exhausted at times to go out when your daily job load was done. You knew it was tough work, stenos at times since you had to concentrate solely on the piece you were editing. Your eyes were always heaving in the end and you had to cancel plenty of hang out sessions because of it. A few of the included your boyfriend, who was always supportive and knew where you were coming from.

"Sweetheart, it's totally okay," Druig replied on the phone, hearing the genuine concern in his voice as you could feel the tears coming, the sense of guilt in your chest from how you were once again having to take a raincheck on getting a few drinks, "You've been at it all week and it's makin' you exhausted. You know, you're allowed to take a breath,"

"I....I don't...." You tried to find the right words, the right phrase, to tell him that you wanted to do the work and make a difference. You loved your job and what you were doing, and perhaps you were making yourself on the back burner and not taking care of yourself from time to time. Taking a breath seemed so simple, and you haven't done it yet.

"Where are you?" Druig asked, you squinting a bit as you took away a tear from the corner of your eye.

"My apartment?" You replied in a croak.

"When did you eat last?" He asked you again, sounding driven and sure. You thought back on your day for a few seconds, the last time you ate something was......

"Lunch time," You replied in a low manner, looking at the time on the phone: 9:30 pm. Shit.

"Alright," Druig's voice rang from the phone, "Go take a shower and get in your PJ's. I'm gettin' us pizza from our favorite spot on the corner and some garlic bread. I'll be there in 20 minutes, you and I are gonna crash on the couch and watch The Goonies, okay?"

"No," You said in a soft protest, getting up a bit and feeling a some bit of guilt in your stomach as you rubbed your eyes, "Druig, you don't need--"

"I do need to," Druig interrupted you gently, you staring down at the phone, "Sweetheart, I'd rather be with you and help you unwind than out in a bar. It wouldn't be as fun without you any who. Plus....I can tell you need a break."

You couldn't help but smile, your fingers were touching the tips of the phone as his face was still illuminated on the screen. Druig was the best at knowing what you needed when you didn't know yourself. He read you like a book, ever since you two were introduced to one another by Sersi at a backyard BBQ she was hosting with her then boyfriend Ikaris. You two melted together in conversation that afternoon so easily, Druig interested in your job in journalism and you intrigued with his studies in anthropology. Druig always knew when you were having rough days or exhausting nights, willing to help you and ease those pains away.

"Okay," You replied softly, knowing there was no way in talking Druig out of what he wanted to do. Druig was driven, assertive in his goals, and devoted to you in more ways than one. You could picture Druig smiling on his end of the phone, making your heart lurch a bit more.

"Don't worry, M'lady. I'm on my way."

When you got out of the shower and threw on your PJ's, you heard the front door to your apartment unlocking, the door opening and closing. You hummed, a tired smile on your face as you brushed out your hair and felt some of the worries already floating in the air with the humidity and shower mist that was hovering in the tiny bathroom. By the time you got your hair in a decent way and you hung up your towel, a gentle tap was on the bathroom door. There was only one person who had the second key to your apartment, and when you opened the door, you were greeted by the gentlest and kindest smile.

Druig, standing right in front of you and his smile melting away the rest of the stress.

"Hello, gorgeous," He said to you, taking you in his arms without you resisting. Once you were snuggled against him, his arms around you almost like a bubble and his head against your own, you breathed out what felt like a massive release, like your lungs were weighed down until that point. Once you two you were embracing, you felt lighter and almost like you could hover. "Come on," he huffed, picking you up bridal style and carrying you with ease. You squeaked, wrapping your arms around his neck as he waltzed you out of your bathroom and living room, "You actually saved me from having' an awkward night with the guys. Phastos texted me and told me that Kingo was already on one of his stories about his upcoming show he's producing."

You giggled, resting your head against his chest as he then moved you two to the living room. Your head moved up and your eyes widening, seeing the sight in front of you. The couch had pillows fluffed and ready for use, the coffee table had a small cover over the top with an extra large cheese pizza sitting in its box, a stack of garlic bread next to it and two glasses of water filled to the brim. The Goonies was on que on your screen, and the lights were dimmed.

"Honey," You hummed in a croak, Druig walking you two over to the couch and having you sit in his lap as you were drinking in the atmosphere that Druig set for you. Druig just stared at you so simply and gently, love in his blue orbs as you looked back at him with a tired yet soft smile on your lips, "This....thank you, Druig,"

"Look, I know you've been workin' real hard with this job and I can see there are times you wanna quit," He explained rubbing your back with his knuckles as you were watching him with adoration in your eyes, "But I also know that you're one of those who doesn't ask for help often. I'll always help you if you let me, sweetheart."

He reminded you of that plenty of times when you two got together. You are a bit stubborn in waning to take care of yourself, you had to for a very long time ever since you moved out on your own. You were you own provider and safe haven, and Druig coming in really shuffled it up a bit. Druig was willing to help you, willing to catch you when you were falling, and most of all, he was beyond willing to make you take a break. Just like this moment, even with pizza and garlic bread included.

"I love you," You said to him sweetly, a tear falling as you were melting in his arms. He just grinned as kissed the tear away with his lips, pulling you in a bit more so he could lean back on the arm of the couch.

"Now, come here. Come sit in my lap and tell me about your day." He softly commanded you as he pulled you along. His arms cradled you in, Druig kissing your head as he grabbed the remote control to start the movie but keeping the volume on low. You watched the opening credits go on the screen as you were telling him everything, not leaving anything too bad or terrible out since Druig was never one to judge you or think twice. It was nice to talk it out with him, unloaded it from your chest and making the mental luggage in your brain finally empty out.

As the first scene of The Goonies played and you took a bite from your massive slice of pizza, Druig kept rubbing your back and held you against him as he ate his garlic bread and quoted the movie word for word, making you giggle since he knew the movie by heart. That night was a great night to unwind and release, and to have your stomach filled with pizza and bread.

And being in the arms of the man you loved was not bad either.

The End.

Tagged: @a-lumos-in-the-nox @botanicalbarnes @ftrmrs-barry-keoghan @heartofwritiing @basicrese @pemberlyy

#druig x you #fanfiction #writing #my love #barry keoghan #druig #eternals #marvel #druig x reader #druig eternals #druig x y/n #druig prompts

89 notes · View notes

the-wales-5 · 2 years ago

Text

"Mad about you"

~~ December 2020 ~~

Catherine entered her husband's office and asked:

"William, could you record me, please?"

"Sure, what's the occasion"

"Message for someone's team" she replied

"I have seen for whom. You left a piece of paper on your desk yesterday. It is for the 1851 Trust, right?"

"Are you annoyed?"

~~~ July 2015 ~~~

The Duke and Duchess Of Cambridge arrived at Portsmouth to watch "Ben Ainslie Racing (BAR)" taking part in the "America's Cup" race organised by Benedict Ainslie and so to meet with him.

Catherine was excited since morning. She was a fan of water sports for years.

"Why are you putting on so much makeup? " her husband asked as he entered the room where Catherine was standing in front of the mirror

"Am I? It's a normal amount of makeup for today's occasion, I think"

"Is it for him? For Mr. Ainslie?"

Do you mean Ben Ainsile?"

"Ben? You've met him 2 times and you are referring to him as 'Ben'? You really think it's normal?"

The races have been cancelled because of strong winds. But Catherine was still spending good time by taking part in virtual races and also enjoying herself in the company of Mr. Ainslie. Unknowingly leaving her husband in jealousy again.

Later, they were presenting trophies. The Duchess went to give one to Benedict. They were also sharing a 'loving' look. William was pretending to be alright. In fact, he felt like was about to explode from furiousness.

Catherine was looking with 'heart eyes' at someone else. Was it because she felt unappreciated by him after the birth of Charlotte just three months ago? Or maybe he was assuming too much and it was just a look and smile?

They were silent on the way home from Portsmouth. Kate was thinking if Charlotte was alright without the ability to see mum for a few hours. William, on the other hand, was wondering how to start a conversation with his wife about what he had seen.

"Catherine" he spoke up finally.

She was too focused on thinking about Charlotte and could not hear him.

William cleared his throat and repeated: "Catherine, are you here or somewhere else?"

She finally looked at him.

"I’ve said your name two times. What were you thinking about?"

"Charlotte. I was thinking about her. She's left at home today, you forgot about it?"

"No.. Never mind."

Catherine looked through the window and wondered, "Is he still annoyed because of my makeup? " .

For the rest of the way home neither of them said a word.

"Kate, can we talk now?" William asked as soon as they entered their house. "You were visibly enjoying yourself with Mr. Ainslie today. Oh, sorry, correction; with 'Ben'

"Are you assuming something?" Catherine rolled her eyes "You are still angry towards me because of makeup, that silly little thing like eyeliner? Are we again at the university or did the teenage phase catch you?"

"Excuse me, what? 'Teenage phase' ?

"It did, right?"

"No. I was just asking…"

"Yes, you were asking unnecessary questions.."

Right after saying that, Charlotte's mother quickly went to her room.

After eating dinner and putting George and Charlotte to sleep, Kate was sitting on the couch and checking the email box. William sat down next to her. He wanted to apologise but right in that moment he noticed that she was reading a new message, from Benedict Ainsile and his team. Catherine was smiling at the screen. William could not hide his jealousy anymore.

"Why is he writing an email to you?"

"It's not a private email for me but an official one. Look, you are included here too" she said as pointing at the "HRH The Duke Of Cambridge" written at the end of the email and smiled a little.

"Yes but the biggest " thank you" is directed to you"

Catherine was now getting frustrated. "Yes" she replied confidently "To your information, it is rather obvious because I've met the "BAR" team a few times and I have seen the official trophy of America's Cup last year too"

"So that is the reason why Mr. Ainslie writes emails to you? Maybe soon he will be sending you text messages as well?"

Catherine scoffed and replied then: "Do you know that you are sounding like a mad person now, William? And do you know that it happens for absolutely no reason?"

He looked at her with jealousy and mocked her last words "no reason". He made sure that their children wouldn't hear him, then approached Catherine and hissed as saying louder: "You were looking at him in a sweet, flirting way. Your eyes literally turned into hearts".

"What do you mean?"

"STOP BEHAVING AS IF YOU HAVE HAD NOT ENJOYED THE WAY HE WAS LOOKING AT YOU BECAUSE YOU HAVE!. While I was standing there like an idiot, trying to keep a poker face to not encourage the media to create stupidest headlines.. SEE? THAT'S WHY I AM GETTING JEALOUS AND THAT'S ALSO WHY I'M SOUNDING LIKE A MAD PERSON! "

Catherine was shocked, she had no idea about her husband's feelings and how a 'simple' look would make him feel irritated. She went closer to him and gently touched his arm.

"Look at me, William.." she said quietly

"What do you want?"

"Listen to me.. I had no idea it would make you feel like that. I was just trying to be polite.. Well, maybe too polite.. But--.. But it doesn't change a thing between us. It doesn't change the fact that you're the most important person for me and the most handsome man I have ever put my eyes on and.. And I love you"

William looked into her green eyes, yet pretended to feel hurt by her actions for a few seconds.

"If you love me, can you prove it somehow?"

"How?"

"Look at me in the same way you did with that man and--.."

Catherine was not listening to him anymore, just pressed her lips on his. After the kiss, William caressed her lips and said: "Well, I think I believe you.. Although, it may take a few kisses like this one to make me feel fully convinced about your feelings, my wife"

Catherine giggled quietly and replied: "I think I might accept this challenge.."

William and Catherine were reconciled after that night but less than a year later, he had another reason to feel jealous.

~~ May 2016 ~~

The Duchess of Cambridge got an invitation from "1851 Trust" to take part in the race in Portsmouth, as the team was preparing for the upcoming America's Cup.

On 20th May 2016, the situation about 'too much makeup' was repeated but this time in a more joking way. William also remarked on the fact that his wife was wearing a skirt instead of trousers.

"It is just for the beginning of engagement, I will wear trousers later for the race"

"Don't let him flirt with you"

Catherine shook her head and smiled.

William smirked, kissed her and whispered:

"Remember that you're mine.."

"I know. I'll be back in less than 2 hours. "Don't be jealous, please" Kate chuckled, and yet before leaving, she kissed her husband on the cheek.

Her engagement was full of fun for her. Firstly, she was looking at a new machine for virtual races. Later she went to change clothes and was soon wearing a special suit. She still had to wear a helmet and had difficulty fastening it. Obviously, Benedict Ainsile was there to help her, and soon, she could start following the race.

Little did she know that William would be busy trying to follow her engagement as much as possible through the Internet. He trusted her but he couldn't say the same thing about Mr. Ainslie.

"I'm back!" Catherine said as she entered home with a smile on her face. She couldn't notice either her husband or children in the living room, so she went to the kitchen. William was standing near the kitchen table and pouring water into the glass when he noticed her and forced himself to smile, saying:

"Oh, you already came back"

"Yes. Have you managed to take care of our kids?"

"Yes I have. And what about you? Was your engagement good?"

"Yeah.. I think I'll go to Charlotte's room. Is she sleeping now?"

"Yes, she is but can you take a look at something else first?"

"What do you mean?"

William drank full glass of water to calm down himself and replied: "A few photos"

"Oh, did you take pictures of Lottie when I was away?"

The Duke went to the living room where had left his laptop and opened the website with his wife's recent engagement coverage.

Catherine followed him, and soon she had seen photos that were showing Benedict Ainsile helping her in putting on a helmet.

William looked at her and his eyes seemed like they were full of question marks while Catherine had no idea what to say. William broke the silence.

"Tell me what happened there"

"Nothing. It was just help"

"Why did you agree?"

"To what? I could not fasten it properly myself so he helped me, that's it."

"Really?"

"Yes. You seriously thought I would flirt with him again?"

"You had it in mind, if you would not have then you wouldn't let him help you. There were other people 'available' to help you, why couldn't you ask them? "

William's voice was now loud and he couldn't hide it. Catherine decided to not be calm anymore, she had enough of this argument that was nonsense in her opinion. She replied louder:

"Ben offered me his help! Was I supposed to say that he can't help me because of my husband?"

"Yes!"

Catherine was looking directly at her husband, nearly hissing the same way as he did the last time they had an argument about Mr. Ainslie.

"DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT YOU HAVE ME WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER AND I'LL DO EVERYTHING THE WAY YOU WANT ME TO?! "

She sat on a chair in front of William's laptop and breathed deeply.

"Am I controlling you?"

"Are you not? Do you really think that I am that stupid, William? Do you seriously think I am not jealous of you sometimes? I am and it happens more often than you think. It's always been like that. I've always been jealous, during university time for obvious reasons, then after our breakups happened and I still am jealous."

Her husband was about to say something when she spoke up again:

"In comparison to you, I am not trying to control you like a mad woman"

"Kate.."

She was not listening to him, she was hurt and furious. She stood up and continued: "And you clearly remember how I erased the word "obey" from my marriage vows. I am not someone that you can control. How could you follow my engagement? I get that you do not like Benedict but, oh gosh, this is hilarious. You were aware of the fact that I will have an engagement with Ainslie today and we even were joking about it before I had left home. What changes now? What's the reason for your anger? One photo taken out of context?"

"Out of context? You are maybe not guilty here BUT HE SEEMED TO ENJOY IT WITHOUT HAVING TO SEE ME THERE! and maybe that's why you couldn't refuse his help? Maybe you had a need to flirt? "

"WILLIAM!

"WHAT? I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT HOW HE WAS STARING AT YOU THAT DAY IN PORTSMOUTH AND NOW I SEE HE IS HELPING YOU. THIS IS SICK."

"You know what's sick? The fact that you're still assuming the same thing that you did after that day in Portsmouth. Your behaviour has not changed. And--.. "

Catherine's voice was now suddenly breaking. She could not stop it even though she wanted to. She knew she had to leave the room as soon as possible because it was going towards the point where she would burst into tears in front of William and admit she's heartbroken. "I have to stay strong" she thought and said after clearing her throat: "And I feel like you have changed and you're not trusting me anymore. I know I am probably not giving you enough of my time as it used to be yet before Charlotte was born, but everything changed when we decided to have kids. Everything. Our daily routine, the way I see myself physically and mentally. One thing has not changed for me, but, as I am noticing since more than a year, for you, it has changed, apparently. Good to know.." She sniffed and left the room, nearly running just to hide her tears from her husband, but it was not successful. He could feel her emotions. He could feel how sad and disappointed she was in him.

"DAMN IT! " William cursed and closed his laptop harshly.

***

Catherine stayed in another room the whole night crying. Her husband was not sleeping either. He felt guilty. He realised that he made a mistake when he's been accusing his wife of something and unknowingly ignoring and hurting her for nearly a year now.

It was 2:35 AM when The Duke decided to try to talk with Kate again. As expected, the doors were closed so he just sat down and leaned his body on them.

"Catherine.. I know you are not sleeping. My control of your engagement or actions was wrong, I can admit it. I'm sorry for everything I've said and for shouting at you."

He sighed deeply and continued even without knowing if Catherine listened to him or not.

"I hate Benedict Ainslie and perhaps I am getting too obsessed but I love you. I am mad about you. I can’t imagine losing you, that's why I am acting so oddly. That is why I'm so possessive. I just love you, Catherine".

The Duchess was looking through the window at the raindrops flowing down after it stopped raining an hour before. She was trying not to listen to William's voice, but it was difficult. Not only because she loved hearing that voice, and it was bringing her comfort, but because his recent words were making her heart skip beats. He really meant every word he had said, and it melted her heart to pieces despite sadness. Although, she was still not ready to open the door and to look at him.

2 hours passed and William wanted to give up right at that moment..

"Babykins.. Try to understand me and if you cannot then please just say it. I'll let you sleep peacefully. Be ready to hear similar words and declarations in the morning but for now I'd give up and go to the other room finally. Just say something."

Catherine was now feeling sorry for him. She stood up and opened the door. Her husband was still sitting in front of the door in the same position as before. He stood up quickly and looked into his wife's eyes. She avoided it and asked as trying not to smile:

"You really were waiting here for 3 hours?"

"You heard everything, right?"

She nodded. William lifted her chin upright and she whispered:

"I am so sorry too.."

"Hsshh.. It's not your fault. I was acting terribly"

"No, not you.." she whispered again and sighed

"Kate, no.. You are not guilty here, you did nothing wrong"

Catherine was now trying to act seriously, saying: "Benedict Ainslie. He's guilty of everything. It's his fault that we were fighting.."

She giggled and then her husband touched her cheek and caressed it with his thumb.

"That's true" he whispered "But still I want to apologise to you"

"You do not have to.. You've already said it all when I was 'sleeping' "

They both chuckled and right then William cupped Catherine's face into his hands.

"I will join you at the next America's Cup in July and he will not be able to flirt with MY wife anymore" .

Catherine wanted to kiss him but she stopped, saying with a smirk on her face: "No"

"What?"

"You will not join me there if you won't fulfil my requirements. Well, maybe two of requirements"

"Shall I kiss you? Two times?" William giggled

"That's not the case. You'll promise me to never accuse me of ridiculous things"

"I promise"

"Well, one requirement is fulfilled. Now the second one. Kiss me."

William smirked and said cheekily: "No. You have to fulfil my requirement now"

She raised her eyebrows. William giggled and said: "You have to tell me about all the moments you were jealous of me, babykins. During university days, after breakup and nowadays"

"My requirement was easier.." she sighed

William pressed his lips on hers, lifted her up on his arms and while she was giggling quietly, he said as still smirking: "I'll kiss you now but you will have to tell me about your jealousy phases tomorrow."

The next morning. They were both exhausted after getting only a few hours of sleep but still brave enough to wake up at 8 AM to take care of George and Charlotte.

Catherine was sipping on her tea and slowly eating toast when her husband said:

"Your turn now"

"What?"

"Your stories about jealousy, I'm waiting"

Catherine groaned and sighed "Do I really have to talk about it?"

"No excuses accepted." William looked into her eyes and smiled evil.

"The first time I felt something was.. Oh my god, that's embarrassing!" She said as feeling quite annoyed by the fact she had to reveal it

"Tell me"

"It was yet before we went on a first date, before the first "I love you" but already after that situation with the 'kiss' after the fashion show, you know.."

"So you were falling in love or, at least, you were impressed by my attempt to kiss you. Weren't you?

"No? No, I was not! " she replied as she tried not to blush

"Alright, next story?.."

"2007. We broke up, and I was seeing photos of you partying with your friends and some girls. And that’s it, I think"

"Is it really? Yesterday you said you feel jealous nowadays too"

"Yeah, that’s true, but I think you can read my mind now, and so you know exactly what I’m going through when you are looking at other women. I know I’m not looking perfect sometimes so.."

"Excuse me? "

"I’ve said the truth" Kate sighed

William gently grabbed her hand and said: "Catherine. You know that I love you no matter what you think to yourself sometimes, right? And that you’re perfect for me every day. Even now, when you are without makeup with dark circles under your eyes for not getting enough sleep. Maybe this way, you look even better than with makeup.."

"Stop joking"

"I am often joking but not now"

She just smiled shyly and her husband kissed her on the cheek, then said:

"Well, I think I fulfilled your requirement too"

"You have, indeed"

They smiled at each other and William added: "Get ready to see my possessive side during the America’s Cup this summer"

"You wouldn’t have to show it"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I do not want to have another argument about that guy"

"That guy? You were calling him “Ben” not so long ago"

William tried not to chuckle when Catherine said as she smiled: "I’ve changed my mind" .

***

~ 24th July 2016, America's Cup, Portsmouth ~

At the beginning, The Duke and Duchess Of Cambridge met with the children from Catherine’s patronage “1851 Trust”, people hosting the Cup, then it was time for the start of the race that was about to happen this year despite foggy weather.

William helped Catherine to go onto the yacht deck. Soon they were watching the races. At one point they thought cameras were not pointed at them because they were shielded by the part of the yacht.

"You have not meet Mr. Ainslie yet" William said amusingly

"I will when there'll be time for giving trophies and medals"

"I hope his team will lose. I really don’t want you to meet him today. You belong to me"

"it would be stupid if I wouldn’t meet him or rather his team"

"You told me that I wouldn’t have to be possessive today"

"You do not--.."

Catherine’s husband looked at her and the second later he kissed her yet before she finished her sentence

Their faces were only inches apart when she said: "Someone will see us here. What are you even doing right now? Another way to show your possessiveness?"

"Who will see? All these people are interested in watching the race and you’re the one that shouldn’t be" .

Now he started kissing her neck. Catherine tried to control herself and stop her husband, so she squeezed his waist.

"William.. I meant the cameras.. They'll take a photo"

"Even if they will see us it will not be a clear photo or video. They only see that we’re standing close to each other, nothing else. Don't think about it now"

"Why are you doing this? Is it your new way of jealousy?

"I don't know but at least I have control on who you are smiling at or looking at when I am kissing you."

He kissed her once again on the lips and then just looked towards the cameras that were, correctly to his wife's assumption, directed at them. He just smirked and thought "You couldn't see anything clear" .

At the same time Kate's cheeks were nearly red. She was blushing and her thoughts were a pure mess, shock mixed with sort of excitement.

After the races finished, The Duke of Cambridge was not happy because Ben Ainslie Racing" had won the race, and so his wife was supposed to give him a medal. Yet before that, they both met members of both teams and congratulated them for good work. Catherine also had a short conversation with William's 'rival,' but she was acting more professionally than ever.

"You won't do it" William said teasingly as they were standing on the stage, shortly before Kate was about to give medal to Mr. Ainslie. She looked at him astonishingly with a question mark in her eyes.

When it was announced that "BAR" won the race, William went towards Benedict with a medal.

Catherine was looking at her husband lovingly as realising he was actually the funniest and the most handsome man.

~~ 2016 - 2020 ~~

Neither Catherine and especially William had any meetings with Benedict Ainslie. No more attendance at America's Cup. Back in 2019 William decided that if Catherine misses watching races they can organise their own annual races called "King's Cup Regatta" where they'd raise funds for their charities. The main reason for him was the inability for "Ben" to meet with them again though.

The only time when there was a connection between these two was in 2020 when Catherine had a telephone call with Ainslie. William was trying not to be jealous, but he couldn't help himself.

"Only a phone call, okay? The camera will be turned off"

~~ December 2020 ~~

"Are you annoyed? "

The Duchess asked quietly after her husband told her about finding a piece of paper with a reminder to record a video message for "1851" and so Benedict Ainslie.

"I am not and I am actually happy that you've asked me to record this video."

William smirked and then added as looking deeply into his wife's eyes:

"But I have a little requirement.."

"A requirement?" she smirked

"You'd have to mention our races"

"What?"

"New Zealand, 2014. Do you remember?"

"Oh yes, I do. Okay, I agree. Can we--.."

William held her hand and said:

"Wait.. You can't smile too much because then he'll think it is for him"

Catherine tried not to laugh as she said:

"William, please.. If he ever felt something towards me then I am sure he surely realised that I am only yours.."

"It is better to be careful anyway" William said and wanted to kiss his wife

"You can kiss me after the video is ready."

The Duke of Cambridge sighed, went to take the camera from his office and followed his wife towards the garden.

~ The End ~ ♡

As she felt William's eyes on her, Catherine was not thinking about what she had to say in her video but about how lucky she was to have someone who could be jealous, possessive sometimes too but mostly someone who loved her more than anyone else ever could.

#royal fanfiction #2022 #mad about you #duke of cambridge #duchess of cambridge #william and catherine #kate x william #ben ainslie #stories #fanfictions #2015 #2016 #2020 #writing #text post #tags

33 notes · View notes

etherrreal · 4 years ago

Text

“the things you do for charity”

Pairing: kenma x gn!reader Genre: fluff Summary: kenma's always been a private person, but it was getting increasingly harder to keep his partner off his streams while you live together; so, he decided to join his two loves together for a 24-hour charity stream extravaganza. Word Count: 3,408 Warnings: some swearing, i suppose there are some spoilers from the manga about adult kenma's job? A/N: i'd give my left tit to play some minecraft or mario kart with kenma tbh -Luna

Kenma's career as a popular streamer was one of the many facets of him that shocked you when you’d started dating two years ago. The two of you had first met in an Animal Crossing discord for your city meant for trading and making friends.

After you had gone over to his island to adopt Raymond from him, he let you keep all of your Nook Mile Tickets with the stipulation that you kept in contact with him to "give him updates" about how the cat villager was doing in his new home. His dorky way of trying to flirt with you was what made you pursue him in the first place, and somehow it had led to a very fulfilling relationship.

It was revealed early on that he was a streamer, but he never expanded on it regarding the actual numbers. Curiosity got the best of you one night, and you decided to google him. Besides also learning that he was a YouTuber, you found yourself in awe at the numbers he managed to accumulate across all of his social media.

And if that wasn’t enough, he was also apparently the CEO of his own business.

Once you moved in together around the one-year mark of your relationship, you got to properly witness the amount of work put into streaming and maintaining a social media presence. This also meant that you got to read the wild comments that were left on all of his platforms–and see the occasional surprise nude picture whenever he opened up his DMs around you.

Because of this, Kenma sat you down to have a conversation about your potential appearance on his social media. You both decided by the end of it that his audience would get to know that he was in a committed relationship, but you agreed it would be best to not show your face or reveal any identifying information of yours.

It had been a year since having that conversation, and you’d both stuck to the agreement closely. The most his audience had ever seen of you was your hand whenever you refilled his water bottle for him.

Of course, it was hard sometimes, especially when you had to remain extra quiet around the house and refrain from yelling out a 'baaaabe' whenever you needed something from him, but since he had his own soundproof office, it lessened the room for any accidental error.

Overall, you were content with never showing your face to his audience for the rest of his career. You knew how nasty the internet could get because of their parasocial relationships with influencers and streamers alike, especially when they discovered those influencers and streamers had a partner who wasn't them, even if they knew they never had a chance. You weren't sure your skin was thick enough to deal with rabid angry stans.

Which is why it was so shocking when Kenma decided one day to nix the agreement.

You were in your shared bedroom answering some emails when he came in. He was dressed in a baggy hoodie, sweats, and tied-up hair; his typical look for a stream.

After some time, you noticed that he was still standing in the doorway, not saying anything. When you glanced up at him, you found him awkwardly toying with the strands of hair that had fallen out of his bun, looking down at the ground like he was just waiting for you to notice him.

"Is there something you need, baby?" you asked. "You're just standing there all adorably shy."

"Yeah, so, um, I'm going to be doing a 24-hour stream this weekend to raise money for charity."

"Oh, really? Cool! I guess that means I'll be going to bed alone that night," you joked.

"Yeah, I guess. Um..." He started before scrunching up his face like he was uncomfortable with what he planned to say next.

"What is it? Do you need me to stock up on snacks and energy drinks? Just send me a list. I can pick them up tomorrow."

"No, that's not it. I was thinking of making a stretch goal be you coming on stream so we can play Minecraft or Mario Kart or something...I mean, I totally understand if you don't feel comfortable. I could always replace it with something else. I know they've been wanting to see me dye my hair a bright color and dress up like an e-boy, so--"

"Really!?" you nearly yelled.

"What? That they want me to dress like an e-boy? Yeah, Kuroo said it would–"

"No, I mean..." You tried to fight the confused expression that was growing on your face, but your squinted eyes gave you away. "You really want me on your stream? Like face and all?"

"....Yeah, I really want to be able to share this with you. But don't feel like you have to do it just to make me happy."

It was a large ask when looking at the full picture. Kenma had his fair share of fans and "stans" who lacked boundaries, as seen from a select few who visited your home several times this year, or the handful that found you on social media already just from seeing a glimpse of your college ring on the hand wrapped around Kenma's water bottle.

There could be a chance you could receive direct hate on your social media just because you were a person who dated a popular streamer. You would then be in the public eye with little privacy and have a magnifying glass on all of your actions and words. Anything you did would then reflect on Kenma.

What if you messed something up and then Kenma lost viewers? Would they try to cancel you or him for it?

You backed away from all the negative thoughts before you could spiral and looked at the metaphorical 'pro' column.

If you agreed to appear on his stream, you would no longer have to sneak around your house in fear of being heard or showing up in his face cam. You both wouldn't have to feel guilty playing games off-camera with each other because you knew Kenma could be streaming it instead.

And who knew? Maybe his fans would like you. You had to admit, it would be a nice ego boost knowing that you were accepted by so many people.

And, most importantly: you could physically ask him in person what he wanted for dinner instead of texting him and waiting an hour for a break so he could respond, while you sat in the next room, starving, stuck in an endless cycle of wondering whether you should make a snack or if you should just hold off for dinner.

Maybe this was a good idea.

"Okay,” you decided, “I'll do it."

"Oh... alright. Cool." Kenma was trying his hardest not to show how excited he was that you agreed. When he saw the contemplative look on your face, he was sure you would decide that it'd just be too much work and say no. But hearing you agree made him giddier than he would ever admit to.

Despite the cool and collected façade he thought he was putting on, you saw the smile that threatened to break through and the red tips of his ears. You wondered if he felt the same weight being lifted off his shoulders as you did, knowing that, after this weekend, you'd both be finally out as an official couple to the world.

And, of course, the nausea of having to do all of it live in front of thousands of people. No biggie.

Saturday afternoon came and at 12pm sharp, Kenma began his grueling 24-hour charity stream. The bar had an overall goal of $150,000, and it began filling up at a constant pace right from the start. Donations ranging from $5 to $500 were flowing in rapidly, and you were trying your best not to feel nervous.

You both agreed that if he reached $50,000 within 5 hours, you would join him for an hour or two of Minecraft later that night. Part of you hoped that the donations would slow down and plateau for a bit, but when you saw Kuroo had donated $1000, specifically with the message that he hoped to see you on stream soon, you realized that it was a pipe dream.

So, you had to be your own hype person for now, to get prepared to show your face to thousands of people and not disappoint Kenma.

Whether it was the promise of your face reveal or the people who genuinely adored charity, it took only four hours for Kenma to break $50,000.

When he saw the number update live on stream, the viewers witnessed the most amount of expression Kenma had ever shown: eyes wide as saucers, mouth slightly agape, body frozen. You could see the gears struggling inside his head struggling to turn and comprehend what they all managed to do so early on in the stream.

"Thanks so much, everyone, for being so generous today... I guess this means we'll be having my partner on later tonight," he announced. You watched his chat explode with excitement, his special emotes flying in the chat.

You picked up your phone to shoot Kenma a quick text.

[you]:: hope you're ready to put our minecraft beds together in front of thousands of people 😏

Unsurprisingly, he left you on read. But dating him for this long meant you weren't even a little bit afraid of double or triple texting.

[you]:: maybe we can kiss under the light of an exploding creeper 😫

[you]:: or have a romantic walk through our rainbow sheep while a phantom looms overhead 🥰

It was after the third text when you finally saw him pick up his phone to text you back. You eagerly awaited his response, only to cackle when you read it.

[my sugar daddy]:: im going to replace you with hinata as my partner if you dont stop

Instead of annoying him any further, you set your phone to charge on your nightstand and went into the bathroom to get ready for the stream later.

Once you emerged, you picked up your phone to check the percentage and noticed a text from Kenma stating that he'd have you on at 8pm. You decided to spend the time until then cooking up some dinner for the both of you.

It seemed like time flew by because by the time you were done eating your food, it was 7:45pm. Only fifteen more minutes before you were live in front of all of Kenma's supporters. You refilled your water bottle and sat on the couch, staring at the blank T.V. as you practically dissociated from reality until Kenma came out of his office to retrieve you.

You noticed that he looked just as nervous as you did, despite his face not showing it the way yours did. His shoulders were up to his ears with tension, and his hoodie drawstring was pulled almost all the way through due to him fiddling with it.

He turned briefly to you after he brought you into his office, gesturing to make sure you knew to wait until he gave you the cue. He sat down, unmuted himself, and took down the 'away' screen he had for his audience.

This was it. Everything was going to change in literally ten seconds.

"Well, everyone...please welcome my partner, (Y/N)."

You walked cautiously around his large gaming chair and sat next to him in your modest desk chair that he had rolled into the room for the occasion.

Okay, you thought to yourself, now don't fuck this up.

"Hi, everyone."

Nailed it.

There was a painful moment of silence before the stream finally caught up, and you both heaved a sigh of relief when you saw nothing but declarations of excitement. Amongst the 'AHHHs' and spam of emotes were sweet comments about your appearance and how cute you two looked as a couple. You peeked over at Kenma and saw the ghost of a smile on his lips, elated to know that he was just as relieved as you were.

"Okay, let's start with the gameplay while we answer some questions," he said.

The questions and gameplay started out mild; when did you both start dating, how did you meet, who asked the other out first. They even asked a few simple questions about you specifically, like your favorite anime and your star sign. And while you did see a few bans in the chat after some inappropriate questions –no, you will not tell them the color of your underwear– most were easy and simple enough to answer.

Then they started to get a bit spicier.

"Bokutoslefttit donated $69.69 and asked, 'what is your main pet peeve with Kenma?'" he read, muttering a 'wow' under his breath at the username.

"Ooh, how can I be polite when exposing you?" you pondered while beating a cow to death with your sword. "It's probably how loud he gets whenever he's playing games with his good headphones on."

"I don't get loud," he defended.

"Oh yeah, you do. I've had to come in here several times to tell you to shut up like I'm your mother. I did it literally two days ago when you were playing with Lev."

"... Next question."

You rolled your eyes at his lack of comment but glanced over at the chat to pull up a new question. You stifled a laugh when you read, "Girlboss420 asked 'who has a fatter ass, Kuroo or (Y/N)?'"

"I'm not answering that."

"Come oooon, this is a Q&A. Can't have the Q’s without the A’s."

"Nope."

You were about to start reprimanding him for implying that Kuroo's ass was fatter than yours when you noticed he ran past you with a group of pillagers following closely behind. You turned to head into the house but when you opened the door, you noticed it was blocked off by obsidian.

"You are the absolute worst!" you exclaimed.

You made a break for it, sprinting past the shooting pillagers and around to the front of the house. You made it inside with only 2 hearts to spare. You turned, in real life, to Kenma to see him tight-lipped to avoid smiling about his betrayal.

"I'm moving my bed downstairs for the rest of the stream."

You both carried on with the stream without another incident, turning to the chat every now and again to answer some questions. Kenma even apologized to you by bringing home a horse that was named "I'm sorry."

It was about an hour and a half after you sat down when Kenma decided that he needed a bathroom break. Your heart fell to your ass when you realized that you'd be all alone to entertain his chat. You considered saying that you needed to pee as well, if it meant not having the spotlight on you.

Instead, when he got up to pee, you smiled and asked him to bring you back a snack and a refill. Oh, how the turns have tabled.

In the meantime, you decided to scroll through the chat and some of the donations to pick out another question to answer since Kenma was gone. You were initially looking for a funny or vulgar comment when you saw one that had a completely different vibe.

"Kermithateblog donated $25.00 and asked, 'what's your favorite part about being with Kenma?' Wow, that's a really sweet question. Let me think for a moment."

You paused to reflect on your relationship with Kenma over the two years you’d been together. You'd had your fair share of highs and lows like any other couple, but, in the end, you both learned how to work things out so you were both equally as happy in the relationship.

"So, as you guys know, he's a busy boy with streaming, creating content for YouTube, and also being a CEO of his own company, which all takes up the majority of his time," you began. "But when he finally can shut off his screens and crawls into bed late at night, I know that he's 100% there with me at that moment. He is able to give me his undivided attention and make me feel like his love for me comes above his love for gaming."

You gave a pause, trying not to get too emotional. You rarely got the chance to gush about Kenma because you knew how much he hated having attention on him, so if this was going to be your only opportunity to do so for a while, then you were going to take it.

"What y'all don't know is that he is the biggest baby when it comes to cuddling," you laughed. "He is absolutely the little spoon most of the time, and he loves when I stroke his hair and love on him all night. In a weird way, it makes me feel special and loved knowing that he trusts me enough to be vulnerable with me. I cherish the amount of time we have together because of that."

What you didn't know was that he had come back from refilling your water bottle rather quickly and stood outside the doorway to hear your speech. His heart almost burst when he heard your tender words describing how he made you feel. He knew that you rarely got to hear how much those quiet moments at night meant to him because he was guarded with his feelings.

Which is why he started into the room on a mission.

You smiled as soon as you saw him. "Welcome back, babe, we were just talking about--"

He approached you swiftly and leaned down to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You hardly even got to bask in the moment before he was pulling away, setting down your water bottle as he sat back down with his controller in hand like he didn't just expose to his audience how much of a softy he really was.

It was in that moment when you realized how glad you were that you’d decided to appear on stream because you'd be able to look back at that clip over and over again to relive the intimate moment.

Noon on Sunday came at last. Kenma would finally be free from the prison of his office. Not to mention he could finally get off his ass and stretch.

Between your official appearance on stream and the sign-off, you popped in a few more times to say hello to the chat when you brought him some snacks and drinks. You stayed up through most of the night, although you accidentally napped for a few hours during the dead of night which gave you a little boost in energy.

In the end, the stream was a monumental success. Kenma had even managed to blow past his goal of $150k and make it to over $200k, which meant that he'd be getting the full e-body makeover for his next week of streams.

By the time Kenma came into your bedroom after freshening up and having a small snack, you were already dead asleep with your laptop propped open to show his now offline stream.

He tip-toed around the bed quietly, closed your laptop, pulled the covers up and over your curled-up body, and slipped in himself. As he settled, he felt you shift and grab at his worn t-shirt, opening your eyes slightly just to confirm that it's him.

He pulled you against his chest tightly, his body finally able to relax. He was sure it wouldn't be too long before he completely fell out.

"That was more fun than I thought it'd be," he heard you utter quietly.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself." His fingers gently danced across your shoulder blades as you mushed your face into his clean shirt. "I can't believe we raised so much today so quickly."

"I'm so proud of you, baby. You worked so hard on this."

"I also donated $2000 anonymously to speed up the process," he mumbled sheepishly, pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of your head in hopes to lessen the blow of his secret.

It was quiet for a moment, and he wondered if he’d genuinely pissed you off before he felt the vibrations from your laugh against his chest.

"...I can't wait to ruin your hair, e-boy."

Written by: Luna

#kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #haikyuu x reader #kenma imagines #haikyuu imagines #kenma x y/n #kenma x you #haikyu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#our writing #kenma fluff #haikyuu fluff #luna writes

448 notes · View notes

thothouse · 3 years ago

Text

Marigold - Cliff/F!Reader

All credits for Cliff go to @yandere-flower

Warnings: This is Cliff when he's had to work for it, so EXTREMELY dubious consent. Also, dirty talk.

Words: 5k+

Links: AO3

Summary: You were two credits short of a full semester and absolutely, irrevocably, fucked.

You were two credits short of a full semester and absolutely, irrevocably, fucked.

“Yes, yes, I understand,” you say to the utterly unsympathetic woman on the other end of the phone, “There was just a last minute cancellation, it’s not like I didn’t sign up—Yes, I know I was supposed to have a backup class, that backup got canceled too, so—The other backup. The backup’s backup. I didn’t have time to talk to that professor at office hours, I had to take my finals. I know. Yes, I know, you’re not allowed to make exceptions. I know this is a prestigious scholarship. Yes, I know there’s a waiting list but I’ve been in this program for two whole years, can’t I just get just one goddamn break—“

Your answer came in the form of a dial tone.

Well.

You placed the old-school landline phone back in its receiver and started massaging your temples. Two credits. You just needed two credits. You’d already scoured all the courses the university had and the few that were available conflicted heavily with your part time job. Anything left conflicted with your second part time job.

Taking out your crappy smartphone, you held it up to see if there were any response emails from the listserv’s worth of professors you’d contacted. Taking an independent study course could could get you out of this, but you needed an advisor for it. And yours decided this was the year for a sabbatical. Figures.

No signal. You pursed your lips and moved to stand on the couch arm. No signal. Balancing on a foot, you leaned forward and held the ‘X-phone' knockoff to the highest corner you could reach and hoped the laundromat hadn’t changed their wifi password. Again.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” you muttered, swaying in place. One signal bar, flickering in and out. A little further…two! Two whole bars! Feeling oddly like the Count from Sesame Street, you slowly breathed out and watched the notifications flow in. Or, well, trickle in. A slow stream, really.

Frowning, you saw reminder after reminder to renew your lease followed by an overdue notice from the auto repair shop and—an answer. Short and succinct.

Sure. Let’s talk details in my office at noon.

You clambered down from the couch immediately, relief mixing with sheer giddiness. “Yes!. Yes, thank the—oh, no.”

Your face fell as you read the email sign off, distinctive and charming and hundred percent—

Cheers, Cliff

You groaned. There was no way you could take that course.

Professor Milano had been the bane of your existence the moment you’d started your PHD at the university, his inane ‘did-you-know’ and condescending prattle taking up entirely too much of your precious time running between buildings. He’d always asked about your research and always, no matter how much you sped up, had time to fit some patronizing comment about a book or paper he was sure you didn’t know about and would be more than happy to lend.

And you seemed to be the only one who disliked him. All the undergraduates — hell, most of the post-docs — hung off his every word. His nickname was even 'Prof DILF’. Everyone you’d ever tried to even remotely bring up the idea of him being an ass to just stared at you in stark disbelief.

It really was a mistake to pick baroque music as the subject of your audio classification research. Between the lack of any kind of first hand source that didn’t cost your entire arm to see and the elitist professors, you'd just about had it. It was only the years you’d already sunk into the thesis and the generous grant you’d gotten for the topic that kept you anymore. And now the grant was almost gone. And those years were about to be down the drain.And Professor Milano had always been the most overtly kind of the history department professors...

Screw it.

You glanced at the clock - just enough time if you power walked - and threw on one of your pashmina scarf for the cold road. They were really your only vice, at least vice you could afford. There was something about how a good scarf wrapped you up that was just calming and you’d been accessorizing what little crappy wardrobe you had with them since you moved here, finding a thick pashmina over even the thinnest t-shirt was enough to stave off the night chill. And have you looking good doing it.

Your apartment was close to the university and dirt cheap to boot, courtesy of being the only person willing to put up living under a 24/7 laundromat. Sure, it was always busy and more than few stabbings had happened on the premises, but the owners let you throw your stuff in the machines for free every now and then and it always smelled like fresh sheets. You were fan of the smell of fresh sheets.

It took less time than you’d thought to reach the history building, so you took a moment to breath and center yourself as you walked up the stairs to Professor Milano’s top floor corner office.

Composed. Calm. Don’t beg. Unless you absolutely had to, in which case you needed to figure out a way to swallow your pride stat.

You knocked.

“Door’s open!”

The office was a jarring switch from the white and blue tiled hallway that you’d just abandoned. The floor was carpeted, for one, and the walls were filled with shelf after wooden shelf of books and…was that a fireplace? How did the man get a fireplace in here? There was no time to think on it, not with the tenured owner of the office already standing and shooting you a thousand kilowatt smile.

You went to shake his hand and say, “Hello, Professor. Thanks again for getting back to me, I really appreciate it.”

Professor Milano’s hand held yours just a second longer than appropriate, his fingers surprisingly callused. Your smile turned awkward. His only widened, that crinkle in his jaw dimpling as you caught sight of all his teeth.

It was a perfectly genial expression, but you found a spark of static rolling down your spine. You pulled your hand away sharply.

He didn’t react, hand still hanging and just smiling as he said, “Anything for a student in need, especially a doctoral one. I remember my first post-graduate degree…” There was a nostalgic light in his eyes as he trails off. “Feels like just yesterday I was interviewing old Prussian dowagers in Parisian tea shops, charming them into giving me access to family archives. Rather hard to satisfy, I will say, but the research results were certainly worth it."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Did the man need to bring up his connections in every conversation? He was loaded. You knew. The college knew. “It’s nice to see you understand. Now, about the independent study? Did you have a topic already in mind, cause that’s fine, otherwise I can probably draft up a research proposal by end of—“

“Woah, sweetheart, slow down,” he says, chuckling a little. Your face falls. “Getting a little ahead of yourself. Let’s start with why you need these credits. Your email said something about being some credits short, but to my knowledge you’re taking far more than the recommended course load already, correct?”

You wonder how he knows that. Curling your hands into scarf, you force yourself to reply, “My grant needs me to take two more credits. And I didn’t have time to set a backup class up. Now, are you—“

“Really?” He interrupts without so much as a hint of guilt, callused hand rubbing the five o’clock shadow on his chin. “There are no available classes left? I know that Professor Wallace has at least one class still available. He was complaining about the turnout just the other day over drinks.”

“All the classes left conflict with my part time jobs,” you say through gritted teeth. “I wasn’t able to receive a fully paid grant, so I need to work in the available hours I have. Once you take those into consideration, there are no available classes left. I wouldn’t be doing this if I had another choice .” There’s an odd light in his eyes as you force the confession out.

The tingle down your back becomes a fully fledged shiver.

You snap, “Are you able to offer an independent study course, or not, Professor Milano? If not, then I have other professors to talk you. Ones that won’t waste my time.”

Professor Milano only smiles in response, no hint of reproach anywhere in his lax demeanor. His voice is off as he says, “No, I don’t believe there are any other professors you can approach. Kurt is busy with that seminar of his and with Abigail never takes any independent study. And with your advisor, Richard, on sabbatical…I’m afraid I’m really the only professor available.”

Your stomach turns. There’s something in his eyes that’s not sympathetic at all, despite his words.

You open your mouth to speak and then close it. There's really nothing to say. He either offers you the study course or you drop out. All those years of research. All that money you’ve already poured into the study.

Your life’s work. Gone.

Professor Milano doesn't stop smiling as he sees the realization play out on your face. “Yes, unfortunate, I know. Especially for such a bright student such as yourself.”

There’s a note of fake pity that zings through you, an odd lilt that’s almost…offering. His meaning hits you then.

Your voice is quiet, “What do you want, then? For the course?”

“What do you think I want?” He leans back in his chair, clasping his hands together as he looks at you in all the austere manner he possess.

You scramble your head a moment and bite your lip. You didn’t want to..but…

“Second author,” you say firmly. That should be enough. “I won’t share first author, not after all this time. Second author is the best I can do.”

Professor Milano looks at you with a hint of surprise in his expression and for a moment, you think he’s going to accept.

Then, with a chuckle, he says, “I was thinking more along the lines of an intimate partnership, not an academic one.”

It takes a second to digest. “What.”

The sun casts an odd light in his hair, a brief shine that of his regal features that’s completely at odds with his next words, “Or, in layman’s terms, bending you over this desk and fucking that perky little ass of yours red and raw.”

A sharp breath.

Your eyes flit between the desk in question and his completely unperturbed expression.

There’s an odd ringing in your ears. No. This couldn’t be happening.

Some sense fills you and you reply coldly, “I don’t think that’s appropriate, Professor.”

He just keeps smiling, and you see it as the mocking expression it always was. “Ah, but we all must charm a few key figures in the quest for knowledge, no? At least this way is straight forward.”

You abruptly stand and heave out, “Fuck you!”

“That is the offer,” he replies.

You’re done with this, done with him, done with the stupid swarm look on his face, done with the condescension and — was this another one of his games? To make you feel inferior? It wasn’t funny. You weren’t doing this.

You’re halfway through your march to the door before he calls out, “Of course, I understand if you’re not truly dedicated to your work like the rest of us. It’s a shame, though. Such good research. I’m sure your advisor will be more than happy to pick off where you left off.”

You freeze.

He’s right.

As if to drive it in, he continues, “It will be sad to see you go, of course, but I’m sure you have plenty more waiting for you. Just a year or two off to get back on your feet, then three, then five, and before you know it you’re reading your own paper in the research catalog and credited as fourth author. If at all. Ah, to have all that effort got to waste. To make nothing of yourself.”

Your chest is tight at the image he paints, the all too realistic image. Your work was your life. There was nothing else, nowhere else to go. You haven’t talked with your shit parents in nearly a decade and any friends you might have made had fallen by the wayside during your mad sprint to academic. This was all you had.

The sick churning in your gut goes cold with the realization of what you’ll have to do.

You slowly turn and start to walk back to the desk, keeping your eyes downcast. You can still spot his patronizing expression but you force the instinctual disgust down. He says nothing and you’re forced to speak, “You’ll sign off on the course? If I do this?”

Professor Milano’s blue eyes are shining. “Sweetheart, if we do this, I can promise you you’ll never have to worry about grants again.”

Your scarf is slipping from your shoulders and you don’t go to adjust it. Let it fall. Might as fucking well. “Fine,” you say through clenched teeth, “Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Glad to hear,” Professor Milano responds, pulling out a neat bound notebook, “I’ll work on submitting everything and it should be cleared by the end of the week. You don’t have to lift a finger.”

His tone rankles, but you push it away. “Fine.” You turn to leave, done with the conversation.

“And where are you going?”

His voice sounds almost amused. You turn and glare. “I’m leaving. Is that alright with you? Professor?”

The reminder of his status does little to guilt him, in fact it looks like his lips stretch further in that patronizing smirk of his. “Ah, kids these days. In such a hurry to leave despite not being dismissed.”

Okay, boomer.

“May I leave your office, Professor Milano?”

“As a matter of fact, you may not. At least not before helping with a little situation of my own.” He leans back in his chair a moment and you’re confused, at least until the vantage point brings the tent in his trousers to light.

You freeze, again.

The rebuttal is on your lips before you’ve realized, only to die at the daring look in his eyes. He’s not joking. Your morals and ambition war with each other inside your head.

Shamefully, the typical winner emerges.

You walk towards his desk in silence, already shuffling off your pants. A mantra builds in your head. Just go quiet and do the work. Just go quiet and do the work.

A hand on your wrist stops you from pulling down your underwear. “Ah, ah, not yet. I was thinking of something a little more verbal.” The way his other hand goes to cradle your chin, thick pad of his thumb brushing your bottom lip, tells you exactly what he’s thinking. He affirms it with, “With so much that comes out of this lovely mouth of yours, I’m eager to see what it can do.”

You fight the urge to bite. “Fine.”

He makes room by sliding his chair around towards you, his hand now coming to press your shoulder down. Your mind spins. Okay, just give him a blowjob. You could do this. Sure, you’ve never done this before - you’d always been more concerned about getting off yourself - but it wasn’t like it was impossible. People did this all the time.

Pursing your lips, you kneel between his legs and reach for his zipper. You almost flinch at the feel of his length, already a hard line in the material underneath. The professor widens his legs, giving you more space to work. You carefully disengage as you pull aside his fabric of his underwear and expose—

What the fuck. You stare at the cock before you, part of your brain fizzling out at the size. It’s so thick you doubt your hand could fit around it and whatever dark, spiteful prayers you’d had of the professor being less endowed go out the window. For the first time, you feel something other than disgust, mixed as it is with a rising fear into a spark of something that settles in your gut.

There’s a chuckle above and your head snaps up. He’s staring down, a wide smile on his chiseled face. There’s something both mocking and heavy in his eyes. “What, sweat pea, is it too much for you to handle? And here I thought you were a hardworking student.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you snap back, “I am! Just give me, give me a second.” He raises his palms and settles back, dark eyes still following your every move. You consciously choose to shut them out. This is not the time. This is just an assignment. You just had to shut up and do the work.

Taking a deep breath, you take him in hand. He’s that same steel soft that all cocks were and it emboldens you. You can do this.

Peering up at him, you lean forward and lick the head. It’s an odd taste, something you’re not sure you like, but the way his cock bobs at the action makes you reconsider. There’s a sharp breath above you.

“Teasing, hmmm, “ he says, voice low, “well, you might want to hurry. You never know when someone could walk in.”

You realize the door was still unlocked. And you were on the floor on your knees, half naked and holding Professor Milanos cock, in plain sight to anyone barging in. You purse your lips and ignore him. Fine, this had to be fast.

You begin stroking him with a hand, the other bracing itself on his thigh. You start for a moment when you realize how thick his leg is, braided with muscle. You avert your eyes as he starts to hum above you, making small sounds of approval.

“That’s right, apply yourself. Might want to starting your mouth soon. Unless you’d prefer to stretch this out."

The thought of someone walking in combined with the odd tension sitting in our gut from being surrounded by him in every way makes you snap. “Just give me a second! It’s not like I’ve ever done this before!”

There’s a pause to his humming. A hand stops yours, circling it around his length. He squeezes hard, pressing your palm tight between his skin. You flush, something strange about the sensation about having him hold you while you do him.

“Is that so,” Cliff says, an odd breathless note in his voice, “You’ve never had a man in your mouth.”

You don’t answer, blush now reaching your ears. His other hand goes to cradle your chin, bringing it up to face him. His eyes are somehow darker than before. “Well, as the profession suggests, I’m more than happy to teach you how this goes.”

You start to respond that you don't want his instruction, only for his hand to press your cheeks together, forcing open your lips. “First off, you shouldn’t be afraid to truly explore the sensation, darling.”

He guides your mouth towards his leaking cock. You feel the heat of it on your lip, guided by both his hand and yours. “And of course, experience is the best teacher.”

For a moment you’re afraid he’s going to just shove it in, start facefucking you without any warning, but his hand goes loose around your chin and he simply places you gingerly at the start of his length. “Well?”

You take a breath and press your lips around him, taking in as much as you can. He’s so thick that your lips strain a little and you find yourself choking less than halfway down. You break away and cough. The sound he makes at this is condescending. You hate it.

Spurred, you continue, this time pressing the flat of your tongue against the weeping head of his cock, all while his other hand guides yours in jerking off the bottom half. You fit the bulbous head easily enough and force yourself to not gag as you move for more. Just when you think it’s enough, that this was all you could take, there’s a hand on your neck.

“Good girl, take it all,” he says with a chuckle. There’s a rasp in his voice that wasn’t there before. Something sings in your gut, the same pit of tension coiling tighter in a way you didn’t imagine. You force yourself to relax and loosen your jaw.

“Such a good student,” he continues, “So dedicated to her work.”

You try your best to shut out the sound of his voice but can’t, something about the hint of praise making you flush. This should not be the context for it….and yet. His cock is heavy and thick in your mouth, already nearing the back of your throat and you’re not even done.

You swallow in instinct and feel, more than hear, the groan he gives in response. The hand on the back of your neck tightens. “Such a good girl, taking me so well…”

There’s a rush of wetness between your thighs and you suddenly feel the thin fabric of your underwear begin to cling.

No. This couldn’t be happening. You try to pull away a bit, get some space, some air, but his hand holds you tight - impaled. You’re not quite sure how to work now, but it seems your part of his is done anyways. His hand on your neck splays out, fingers digging into your nape, and he begins to move your head, bobbing slowly on his thick cock.

You can feel his hips push forward and the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag, only for him to pause and chuckle, “Come now, sweetheart, breathe through your nose. You’ve been doing so well..”

You feel that same rush of pleasure at being praised and force yourself to adjust, a strange madness making you grip his pants to steady yourself. He pushes his hips forward again, this time holding your head still. “Just relax your throat, sweetie….that’s a good girl.” He grunted, his cock throbbing a moment when you finally manage to relax enough for him to slip further in. There’s tears in your eyes now, but the wetness between your thighs is a near flood. “Good girl.”

You squeeze your thighs together. Something that doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

He pauses his rolling hips a moment, smile growing. “Ah, you’re enjoying me too. Are you getting off on this, hmm, sweetie? On your knees, sucking your professor off, where everyone could see you? Openings your mouth like a filthy slut and letting your professor fuck your throat? Is this what you’ve always wanted?”

You make a sound, for denial of acceptance of his words you’re not sure, but Profesor Milano only pushes your head further down on his hard cock and begins to thrust between every word. “Ah, sweetie, don’t you know you’re not supposed. To. Talk. With. Your. Mouth. Full.”

There’s a burn in your throat now, something harsh that make you feel dizzy. Your eyes are tearing up so much that they’re beginning to trickle down your cheeks, vision blurry and senses dulled to everything but the feel of his pounding your throat and the slow drawl of his voice as he coos, “Such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Just like I knew you would.”

His words are accompanied by a particular harsh thrust that makes you gag. He holds there a moment, long enough that you feel dark spots in your vision, lungs bursting with the need for air. He brushes away a tear from your cheek and then starts to pull away. You mentally thank what luck you have for the break.

Except it isn’t a break.

Professor Milano’s voice is less breathless, more controlled as he says, “Against the desk."

You freeze. What. “No,” you start to say, voice raspy, “This was just—“

He raises a brow. “This is all up to you, sweetheart. Do you want the credit or not?”

If you’d known it’d come with getting facefucked and then rutted against a desk for, you may have given it another second’s thought. Pursing your lips, you turn and place both hands on the desk.

You try to look over you shoulder to see, only for Professor Milano to place another hand on your nape and hold your head forward, in place.

“Patience, sweet pea.”

You clench your fingers into the wood of the desk and hope it’s quick.

You’re prepared for the sudden pressure cock splitting you open, less so for the sudden sensation of thick fingers pressed against your soaking folds.

You flush at the squelching sound it makes when he peels your underwear away. “You really did enjoy that, huh? Such a good girl.”

His words are punctuated with a quick thrust of his fingers, spearing you. You gasp, clutching the desk tighter and refusing to sink into the feeling of him scissoring his fingers in your wet heat. “You’re absolutely dripping,” he comments, almost clinically, and you resist the urge to snap at him. “Is this all for me?”

You bite your lip to keep your mouth closed, only for him to thrust another finger in and repeat, “An answer, sweet pea, is only polite.”

Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. “ Yes,” you grit out, "It is. Professor Milano.” You hastily tack on, the little barb of his position a good reminder of the inappropriateness of the situation. Why that only serves to make you wetter, though, you’re not willing to think about.

He noticed, if his chuckle is anything to go by, but he doesn’t comment on it. “Just Cliff, please. I think we’re … reasonably well acquainted.”

Another thrust, this time with his thumb added to it, brushing against your clit. You hiss, leaning further forward on your hands. Professor Milano only chuckles, the reverberation of it heavy against your back and sending another spike of arousal pooling in your gut. He’s surrounding you again, only this time where you can’t even see him, only feel what he’s doing to you. He draws his fingers in and out almost languorously as he speaks. “I bet you want to be stuffed, don’t you, sweetheart. My fingers not enough for you? Do you want your professor to fill you. Up?

More thrusts to punctuate and at this point you can feel the wetness of your slick drip down your thighs. It’ a cold rush when the air hits it, but it’s nothing to the sensation of his cock, now pressed between your thighs. You gasp only for him to thrust forward, slipping between your folds. Not inside, but so, so close.

“Don’t you, sweetheart? I’d like an answer.”

You’re wrecked, arms already trembling from the weight of keeping yourself up and between the feel of his throbbing member burning against your cunt and the knowledge of how it’d felt, smelt, tasted in your mouth, you’re soon rendered insatiate. He repeats, Say it.”

Your mouth opens, senselessly, head thrown back as you try to force him inside. The hand on your neck grips tighter. “No, no, you’re going to have to say it. Who do you want inside you.”

Your words feel slow, thick. “You, Professor Milano.” Some part of your brain is screaming at you at this loss of power, but the rest of you feels too damn good to resist. “Please, please, Fill me up. Please, Cliff—“

It’s barely before you finish speaking his name before you feel the stretch of his cock, slipping easily to the hilt. His balls slap against your clit and you make a needy sound. He presses you down onto the desk now, your strength gone, only free now to take. His pulls out and thrusts back in, hips slapping against yours.

He coos, “Good girl.”

You try to hide your face at the sudden clench your cunt gives at his words, but he forces it to the side, your cheek pressed against the papers on his desk as you stare back him. “You like that, don’t you? Being called a good girl.” He’s pulling out again, this time slower, only to bottom out in one quick stroke. "Don't you?"

You make a choked noise and slowly nod.

“Thought so. I knew you were a good girl, from the first moment I saw you all prim and proper at that mixer. Knew that you’d love this, being fucked by your professor. So smart and independent, but not here, hmm?” He’s starting up a low slow pace, something that barely satisfies the fire raging in your blood. You press your ass back, only for him to give it a quick slap on the next stroke.

You moan, watching him still dressed, watch you, his eyes laser focused on your expression as he keeps fucking into your needy heat. “No, you love this. Bending over for me. Maybe next time I’ll show the class? You would like that, I think, a filthy girl like you. Tie you up with those ridiculous scarves of yours and show just how good you can be for your professor, how much you can please him, in front of everyone else. I bet some part of you wants someone to walk in now, just so they can see how well you’re taking your professor’s cock.”

The tension from before is rising, coiling, sharpening into something feral and unrestrained in your gut with his every word. Your toes start to curl. “Such a sloppy cunt, but such a good. Little. Girl.”

It’s that final line that did you in, the way his deep voice almost broke, the way he seemed to mean it that pushed you over the edge. You came, clenching hard on his still pounding dick, harder than you’ve ever come before. You can’t even move, trapped against the desk, but it only makes every sense heightened, every continued slap of his hips against yours a marvel.

You’re drooling you realize, face pressed against the desk as it is, your spit ruining what was probably a few important papers, but Professor Milano doesn’t seem to notice. He just continues thrusting, focused only at the feel of your cunt. It’s exhilarating.

When he comes, it’s with barely a grunt, although the hard thrust of his hips almost sends the desk over. Your walls are still pulsing around him and you can feel your cheeks flush harder at the feel of his thick load inside you. When he pulls away some trickles out, rendering you a mess from both ends.

There’s a moment he seems to take you in, panting and flushed on his desk, cum trickling out of one end and tears and spit from the other.

“Yes, I think this independent study will be very productive.”

#yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere-flower #my stuff

27 notes · View notes

moralesispunk · 4 years ago

Text

How they tell you they love you

This ended up quite long so I do apologise!

Including: Frankie, Din, Marcus M, Javier, Whiskey, Dave, Ezra, Oberyn and Marcus P

Frankie -

Frankie had known that he was in love with you for a while before he said anything. He had been avoiding relationships - working in the Special Ops wasn’t exactly the easiest job for maintaining one - and that’s why when he met you he tried his hardest to stop himself from falling for you, even though he knew he was. He knew it every time he looked in your eyes, or watched you smile, or heard your voice when you answered the phone. In a few weeks time he would have to go away for a couple of months for work and he would only be able to talk to you through emails whenever he got access to the computer. You had told him that you didn’t want to finish what you had just because he was going away but he couldn’t help the fears that were taking over his whole body. What if you realised you didn’t actually like him when he was away? What if you met someone who you better deserved? What if he scared you off when he came home and had to deal with the nightmares that were always worse when he got back?

That night, as he kissed you good night and felt you fall asleep in his arms, the fears took over once again. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to calm his breathing but the thoughts wouldn’t stop. You stirred in his arms and he opened his eyes to look down at you and suddenly all his thoughts were silenced. He watched the way your eyebrows were furrowed and he wondered what you were dreaming about. He knew in this moment he had to tell you before he got scared again. He gently shook you awake, watching as you opened your eyes, searching until you found his. “Frankie, honey, everything okay?” you asked in your sleepy voice as your propped yourself up on your elbow to look at him. “Everything’s fine. I just- I just had to tell you something,” he said, turning so he was now fully facing you, “I love you”. He watched as a sleepy smile took over your face and how you slowly leaned in to give him a kiss. You pulled away just enough to look in his eyes, “I love you, Frankie”. He couldn’t stop the smile that took over his face as he pulled you back into his arms for you both to fall asleep knowing that he didn’t have to worry anymore.

Din -

Din showed and said he loved in other ways a long time before he actually said those three words. It started with him helping you out, sitting with you and helping while you sorted out the compartments of the Crest to make it more organised. It then moved to taking any excuse to touch you in someway, brushing his hand over your arm as he reached by you for something or letting your hands touch as you walked next to each other. Eventually, one day in the cantina he sat his hand on your leg as you eat your food before moving his arm around your shoulder when other men leered over you.

When the Kid is taken by Moff Gideon, you are part of the team that are on the rescue mission. When travelling to Moff’s cruiser, Din is planning for any outcome. While he wanted to be sure that everything would go fine - he would get the Kid and the Clan of Three would be reunited - anything could go wrong. He watched as you took apart and cleaned your blaster, trying to distract yourself from what was about to happen. He knew he loved you. He knew that was the word for what he was feeling. It wasn’t just care, it wasn’t just friendship, it was a love that filled his whole body with warmth and a feeling of security he had never felt before. You were his home. He moved to sit next to you, slowly taking your hand in his. You looked up to him, giving his hand a squeeze, “we’re going to get him back”. He looked down at you, the confidence in your eyes making him believe wholeheartedly for the first time that you would get him back with no problem. “I love you”. He said it plainly and simply and as he squeezed your hands watched the smile that broke onto your face, “I love you, Din,” whispering his name so no one else would hear.

Marcus M -

Marcus showed you he loved you before telling you through the trust he had for you. He trusted introducing you to Missy. He trusted letting you pick her up from school that time he was running late. He trusted letting you into his heart, the first person he let inside in years.

You and Marcus were meant to have a day to yourselves today while Missy was over at a friends but just as you arrived at their house, Marcus got a call saying Missy’s friend was sick and they would have to cancel. Marcus had told you she had been looking forward to this all week and you could see the look of disappointment in her face. You remembered the science museum you drove by on the way here and decided to offer an idea, “why don’t we all go there today?” Missy turned to her Dad, a massive smile on her face, “can we Dad?” Marcus nods and looks at you, mouthing a thank you. You all pile into his car and drive to the museum. It’s still early enough so you get in quickly and let Missy lead the way. You all stop and read the signs, interacting with everything you can. It reminds you of the science centre you used to go to when you were younger and you can’t stop smiling as you watch Missy run from exhibit to exhibit. Missy grabs your hand to take you over to something she wants to show you and when you both walk away she doesn’t let go. The two of you walk about hand in hand as Marcus walks behind, his heart swelling with how well you both get on. The last stop is the planetarium - where Marcus watches you and Missy more than he looks up at the stars surrounding you. He knows in this moment he wants to tell you how much he loves you. On the drive home, Missy falls asleep in the back of the car and he turns to you. He reaches over and takes your hand in his, watching you turn and smile at him. Before he can stop himself he whispers an “I love you” and watches as your eyes go wide before you smile, squeezing his hand, “I love you, Marcus”.

Javier

It will take a while for Javier to find the actual words. It took long enough for him to allow himself to act on his attraction for you, knowing himself that it was more than just a physical attraction. While you understood, knowing that the only other real relationship he had in his past didn’t exactly end well, you thought by now there would maybe be a little more. He would come by your apartment after it was dark and would leave before the sun came up. He would flirt with you the same way he flirted with the other women in the office (so not to let anyone find out you were together - or as together as you were).

This morning, he woke early as usual and began to get dressed. He tried not to wake you from your sleep, knowing you still had at least another hour before you would have to get up. The sound of dropping his keys woke you, causing you to sit up. “Javier, come back to bed. Why don’t we just go in together,” you said in your sleepy voice. “You know why,” he said, sitting at the edge of the bed. He traced up your leg and side gently, before leaning down for a kiss that you turned away from. He sighed, standing and putting his jacket on before walking out.

Knowing that you wouldn’t get back to sleep you decided to get ready and head in to work earlier than usual. When you arrived, the sun still wasn’t fully up but the place was busy with bodies moving about quickly. Messina called you into her office, asking you to go on a simple operation to where they got a tip El Leon was. You noticed Javi wasn’t in yet and so you and Murphy went together. It was anything but simple and very quickly it went south, resulting in a shot to your shoulder. It wasn’t too bad and was quickly fixed at the closest hospital. Just as the doctor was finishing up stitches, a frantic Javi bursts into the hospital. You can see him from the other side of the hall, watching as his eyes search quickly for any sign of you. Once his eyes meet yours he lets out a breath that he didn’t realise he had been holding in and quickly made his way towards you. The doctor was just walking away as Javi reached you, taking your face in his hands. You let him check you for injuries knowing he wouldn’t stop until he had, noticing the pain that flashed across his face when he seen your shoulder. He took your face back in his hands and gave you a gentle kiss, softer than any shared between you before. “I’m sorry, for everything,” he sighed, “I have to stop being so scared... I- I love you”. You placed your hands over his, “I love you, too, Javier”.

Whiskey

You and Whiskey had been getting on well, having been on more than a few dates by now. You knew you were falling for him and felt that he was feeling the same way in the way his eyes followed you, how he smiled lazily at you in the morning or how he lingered just for a moment every time he had to leave like there was something else to be said.

However, that started to change. He started to become more distant. You worried it was something that you had done wrong, or that you had looked into his actions more than was really there. In truth, it was because Whiskey was scared. The last woman he had loved had been ripped from his life and took him years to get over. He didn’t want to feel that ever again and his job made sure anyone who was close to him was at potential risk. One night, when he was having dinner at yours, you decided to ask him about it. “What? There’s nothing wrong,” he dismissed, asking you a question about work instead. “No, there is something wrong. Tell me,” you pressed. “I- I just can’t see someone else I love be hurt. I can’t let myself get close to someone like that again be taken from me,” he sighs, too caught up in his own thoughts to realise what he really said. “Someone else you what?” you whispered. His eyes widened, realising he had said the word out loud for the first time. He stood and moved round to sit next to you, taking your hands in his. “I love you,” he said, “but I don’t want anything to happen to you and that’s why I’ve been so... distant lately”. You took his face in your hands, “I love you, and nothing is going to happen to me. I’ve got the best cowboy-agent in the world as by boyfriend”.

Dave

Dave would be among the most confident in telling you about his feelings. As soon as he knew that what he was feeling for you was love he would let the words fall out of his mouth with ease.

It would be one morning as you were making breakfast, dancing about quietly thinking he was in the shower. He watches as his shirt from the night before hangs around you, looking better on you than it did on him. He smiles as you turn the radio up, singing along a little louder when one of your favourite song comes on. “Didn’t know I was getting breakfast and a show,” he interrupts. You turn around, placing your hand on your chest, “Jesus, Dave! You almost gave me a heart attack,” you scold as he chuckles, walking towards you now. “Tell me how you look better in that shirt than I do,” he hums as he wraps his arms around your waist, placing his head on your shoulder while you carry on with breakfast. You smile, turning your head to press a kiss to his lips. He knows right now how he feels and he lets the words fall out of his mouth, “I love you”. He kisses the back of your neck gently as you turn your head to meet his lips for a kiss, “and I love you, Dave”.

Oberyn

The Prince’s Garden had become you and Oberyn’s perfect place for some peace and quiet. You could just walk around the garden, holding hands in silence or quietly talking about whatever popped into your minds.

On this particular day, the sun was out and shining, making all the flowers stand a little taller. You hadn’t been talking much, enjoying the presence of one another enough for now. Every so often, he would squeeze your hand, pulling you slightly closer to steal a kiss, before continuing around the garden. You both eventually stop, sitting by the bench where you first met. You had found a poem that day that you wanted to read to him, taking it out of the book you had been carrying around. He watched you in absolute adoration, listening to every word that rolled off your tongue with such beauty and how your voice changed slightly when you smiled at the words. When you finished, you asked him what he thought. “It was beautiful. But not as beautiful as the person who read it,” he replies, making you blush. “Oberyn, you’re too kind,” you say back, reaching for his hand to squeeze gently. “I should be kind to the person I love,” he replies. Your eyes widen and as you try to find the words he turns his body to face you completely, “I love you,” he says with a smile.

Ezra -

Ezra would have no problem telling you he loved you the minute he knew that is what he was feeling. He watches and notices how the sun changes the colour of your eyes slightly, the way the side of your eyes crinkle a little as you squint from the bright light, your hum of contentment as it warms your skin.

He feels his love for you warm his body, running through his chest and spreading everywhere else. He takes your hand in his and tells you just that, “you warm me more than the sun, hold more beauty than the moon, carry more sparkle in your eyes than the stars. I love you, little bird, and I will shout it so the sun, moon and stars and everyone else hears what I have to say”. When you tell him that you love him too he pulls you close to his chest, promising to never let you go.

Marcus P

You have been looking forward to a night in with Marcus all week. You have both been busy with work and today is the first in a while you get to relax together so planned to get some takeout and find a film to watch at his place.

When you arrive, Marcus has the menu for your favourite takeout place sitting out on the table, telling you he was having a look to see what he wanted. You smile at the thoughtfulness, knowing you probably only mentioned it was your favourite once or twice before. When the food arrives, Marcus lets you choose the film, deciding on one you told him about the other night he had never seen before. He ends up spending more time watching you than the film, noticing when you smile or try and hide your tears. At the end of the film you turn to ask him how he enjoyed it but instead he leans in, giving you the most passionate kiss, before breaking away and breathlessly telling you he loves you.

225 notes · View notes

get-shiggy-with-it · 4 years ago

Text

Oh I just got hit so hard with Professor!Compress brainrot. Yes I’m still on my college au bullshit okay I know. But I need to get it out of my head so here ya go:

18+ Minors DNI

Word Count: 1k

Pairing: Professor!Compress x Gender Neutral!reader

Warnings: professor/student dynamics, mild innocence kink, smut, alcohol mention, power dynamic play

He’s teaching in the theater department, or something similarly arts related. One of those weirdly eccentric profs who’s so painfully handsome despite how strange and unreadable he seems in classes.

Professor Sako would absolutely be the type to enjoy having a drink with some of the students he’s closer with, especially if they’re participating in some of the shows he directs or he’s helping advise them on their own thesis work. Genuinely really likes to listen when you info-dump about your favorite playwright/author/artists etc... He just finds it incredibly attractive to have intelligent conversation about your shared interests.

Also it gives him an excuse to see your face all lit up and so excited that your favorite award-winning prof is showing an interest in you.

He gets drunk more off that light of adoration in your eyes than he does the wine.

Atsuhiro will find himself seeking you out in his auditorium classes, calling on you more and more often to come up on stage and help demonstrate—even if this isn’t your major or field of study, even if you’re just here for the easy credit, he’s rapidly starting to view you as a muse of sorts.

Not just because you’re attractive—god knows you are though—but you have substance. There are complexities to you that make you so fascinating to him and like any good professor, he wants to help you realize them. Bring them to fruition. He sees your potential, that’s all.

Potential to be molded into something perfect for him.

He’ll send you innocent emails, asking you to stop by during his office hours and canceling any other appointments all under the guise of advising your class work. It’s inconsequential if you both end up on the small sofa he keeps that makes the secluded room feel more comfortable, door closed and legs pressed close together as you open up to him about all the creative ventures you’ve thought of but were always too scared to pursue.

There’s no money in art. Why major in a hobby? You have to be a genius to get noticed.

Atsu is so kind, so understanding, so supportive of you when clearly everyone else in your life has begged you to give up on your dreams.

It doesn’t even matter if he truly believes you posses the skills to succeed. Because he’ll craft them for you, he’d do whatever it takes to make sure that bright, unwavering, absolute adoration never leaves your eyes when you look at him.

He decides then that he has to be the only one you’ll ever look at that way.

And if he convinces you to audition for the debut of his newest passion product—one he’d started in secret the moment you stumbled through his classroom doors, so lost and begging for him to pull you from the tempest of scrambling student bodies.

Pleading with your eyes for talented, wonderful Professor Sako to scoop you up and make a masterpiece of you.

You’ll be a stunning lead, he tells you, and he knows your apprehensive.

So many other far more qualified students are fighting tooth and nail for the chance to perform under Atsuhiro Sako’s direction, and he understands your anxieties.

But he doesn’t tell you how completely unfounded they are. Doesn’t tell you that the leading role is you. Was always meant to be you. Because he wrote it for you. No, he wants you to think you got here on your own when the cast list is sent around and you come crying into his office to throw yourself rather unprofessionally into his arms.

Words of thanks and praise fall so easily from your lips, he just can’t help the smirk that forms on his.

And it’s the same smirk he wears when he fucks you so sweetly on the prop room couch after rehearsal that first night. You’re so pliant and willing under him, so full of devotion to this man who’s handed you your dreams on a plate. It doesn’t matter that someone might creep back into the theater late and discover you or that the ghost light which illuminates the stage has him thinking that the spirits who come to perform for the empty rows of seats might watch instead. Might become an undead voyeurs to your coupling, might applaud as he pulls gorgeous sounds from you underneath him.

He’s an actor at heart.

He has always thrived with an audience.

It’s delicious, he thinks. And when he tastes you again in his office the week after that, buried between your legs as you lean on his desk--it’s even more divine than he could have imagined.

He never lets you go after he’s gotten started and sweet, innocent you is swept along for the ride of your life.

Suddenly you find yourself at his apartment after Friday night rehearsals—he prefers to give you his notes in private, of course. And you just keep forgetting those lovely lines he’s written just for you.

It’s late into the night but he isn’t going to stop, not until every word is burned into your memory—just like the feeling of his cock mercilessly pumping into you. Script in one hand and your abused nipple in the other, Atsuhiro has you nicely laid up in his bed, legs around his waist as he rolls hips into you while you run scenes with him. His pace is slow enough to keep you just on the edge, thrusting sharply whenever you get a line wrong. He steels himself, remains outwardly unaffected while he fucks you until you’re so incoherent the only words he can wring from those perfect lips are:

Atsuhiro, please, let me cum...

And he does, because you’ve earned it. Been so good for him.

He tosses the script aside and pounds into your heat and tangles your tongues together and losses himself in that look of worship on your face as you come undone.

And then he’ll do it all over again, because it’s his job to teach you, to perfect you.

You’re his star and his work of art—his vision come to life.

Molded carefully for him.

Only for him.

#mr. compress x reader #atsuhiro sako x reader #college au #manipulation #bee.thirsts #bee.writes

156 notes · View notes

sanguineness-wings · 4 years ago

Text

home early

Pairing: Hawks x gn!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ minors do not interact )

Warnings: Sexual content, hand jobs, lap sitting, all Hawks focused/receiving, established relationship

i haven’t written smut since 2013 and it shows. please be gentle. this is totally self indulgent. i’m always daydreaming about showering hawks with love while i work from home

The file you were working on (named final2-revision5_FINAL-FOR-REAL.psd) was saved with a relieved sigh. This client had been beyond difficult to work with and you were more than ready to be rid of them. With the file sent off for approval, hopefully for the last time, you stretched out your stiff limbs and groaned at the satisfying pops of your joints and spine. After being hunched at your computer all morning, you decided to treat yourself to a fresh cup of tea and some cookies.

When you returned to your computer and checked your email, your heart sunk at the multiple emails from the client. You swore loudly and banged your forehead against your desk a few times. You should have made coffee instead.

Hours passed with you hyper-focused on your screen and music blasting through your headphones, determined to be done with this project today, even if it killed you. Your phone sat neglected at the corner of your desk, even as it lit up with multiple text messages. You didn’t even hear your front door open sometime later. Or the voice calling for you from the living room. The press of warm lips against your cheek startled you out of your concentration, making you jump and rip the headphones from your ears.

Hawks, in all of his wind swept glory, grinned down at you, “Working hard?”

“I didn’t even hear you come in,” you breathed out, willing your heart to stop sputtering in your chest. It was honestly rare to see the hero while the sun was still up. “Did you get off patrol early?”

“Yeah.” Hawks pouted, turning to show you the little feathered nubs where his full wings should be. “I got plucked pretty bad.”

“Shit! What happened? Are you okay?” He didn’t seem hurt, but that didn’t stop you from trying to tug off his coat to make sure.

Hawks took one of your hands in his own and kissed at your knuckles soothingly, “I’m fine, chickadee. Promise. Just was a busy day. But! Bright side is I get a few days off.”

The motivation to get this stupid project done flared inside of you renewed. Nothing was going to get in between you and two whole days alone with Hawks.

“I just have a few things to finish up, then I’m all yours,” you explained as you turned back to your computer.

“Sure, I’m gonna shower quick,” Hawks said with a quick kiss to the crown of your head.

—

Warm, damp hands interrupted you sometime later as you furiously typed out an email to the client with murderous intent in every keyboard click. Hawks’ fingers ran through your hair as he hummed in your ear, “Almost done?”

“Almost…hopefully,” you grunted out, barely registering Hawks’ touch. You heard Hawks let out an exaggerated sigh.

“You promise?”

You hummed noncommittally, not breaking your gaze away from your screen. Hawks huffed loudly as he shuffled out.

—

The sun started to sink low in the sky, casting your home office in a beautiful pink and orange hue. It would have been a nice view, if you had time to admire it. But you were too busy working yourself to the bone.

You noticed a tickling at your neck and tried to brush it away, thinking it must be a piece of stray hair. But every few moments you felt the tickling again, no matter how you rearranged your hair. The tickling then traveled down your neck and into your shirt. You yelped, realizing the source of the tickling was a single tiny feather.

“Hawks! Stop it!” You shrieked as you dug around under your shirt, trying to catch the little puff of red. Hawks’ laughter reached your ears from the kitchen as you writhed, nearly falling out of your chair. He finally relented once you were red in the face with tears welling up in your eyes from the endless teasing. You shook out your shirt until the little feather fell out and returned to your work.

—

Hawks grew more restless the longer you worked, pestering you every so often for attention. But you were determined to finish up so you could relax with him tomorrow without this project looming over you. You ate dinner at your desk while Hawks sat on the floor with his own plate, chattering away about patrol or something. You were barely paying attention.

Once the plates were cleared away, Hawks’ patience wore out. He grabbed your hand away from the mouse and tugged, “Come on, that’s enough for one day, don’t you think?”

You sighed wearily and tried to shake your hand free from his. “I just have a couple more revisions.”

“I’ve been home for hours and you’ve barely looked at me!” Hawks whined, draping himself over your side dramatically.

“If I get this done now, we’ll have all day tomorrow together - Ow! No biting!”

Hawks left little stinging bites at your shoulder and neck, growling low in frustration. You grabbed at his face to push him away, squeezing his chubby cheeks between your fingers to make him look at you. “Listen. I’m patient when you have to work late, right? I just need one more hour.”

Hawks seemed to deflate a little and looked away with guilt in his eyes. You never once complained while he was away on long missions or had to cancel plans, you always understood when his job came first.

“Why don’t you sit in my lap while I finish up?” You suggested, rolling your chair back from your desk to make room for him. Hawks’ eyes immediately lit up and he eagerly scrambled to straddle your thighs. You pulled him in close by his hips as his arms looped around your neck, nuzzling his face into your hair.

“Better?” You asked, smiling against his shoulder.

Hawks hummed, wiggling to press himself flush against you. “Much better.”

It was nice being able to dote on him while you worked, wishing you thought of this sooner. The weight of him against you and the smell of his sweet shampoo was grounding, soothing away your frustrations. You pressed gentle kisses to his neck to make him sigh and played with the curls at the nape of his neck with a free hand. He cooed and hummed in a low, satisfied voice when your hand snuck beneath his oversized t-shirt to pet up his back. You rubbed slow circles into his smooth skin, eating up the way he pressed into each touch.

—

“All done, baby boy,” you whispered while pressing a kiss to Hawks’ temple. He had gone completely limp in your lap from all of the petting and little affections, making you think he had fallen asleep. You warmed your hands along his bare thighs, him sporting nothing but boxer briefs, earning you a spine tingling groan from the hero. He pulled back from where his head was buried in the crook of your neck, only to lean in to for a sweet, lingering kiss.

“Now you’re all mine,” Hawks murmured against your lips before his kisses turned more demanding. Your hands slid to Hawks’ ass, giving his cheeks a loving squeeze. It spurred his hips to buck against your stomach, the hard line of his cock pressing against you.

“Let me take care of you,” you sighed as Hawks’ lips found your throat. You wanted to make it up to him for basically ignoring him all day. Your hands toyed with the waist band of his briefs, loving the way you could hear his breathing hitch. Slipping inside, your fingers found the wet tip of cock, already drooling with excitement. You thumbed at the engorged head, making his hips jerk into your touch as you wrapped your hand around him, pumping him with languid strokes.

“Oh, fuck,” Hawks groaned as his head fell back, rutting into your hand. He gripped at your shoulders with trembling hands for leverage as his hips rolled. “Feels good, babe.”

You peppered kisses up his exposed neck, finding the little tender spot behind his ear to abuse by suckling at the soft skin. Hawks’ voice keened into a desperate whine as his fingers found purchase in your hair.

“Look at you, falling apart so easily for me,” you crooned into his ear, smiling at the way he shuddered.

“Don’t get too c-cocky there,” Hawks breathed out, stuttering when gave the tip of his cock a firm squeeze, “I haven’t even started with you yet.”

“Is that right? I look forward to it when you’re done leaking all over my lap.”

“F-Fuck, where is all this coming from, dove? Usually I’m the one running my mouth.” Hawks let out a breathy laugh as he tightened his grip in your hair, pulling you back to look you in the eye.

“I just want to make you feel good,” you whined out as you met his liquid honey gaze. “Is it working?”

A warm smile upturned his lips before he pressed his forehead against yours, “You know it is. You feel how much I’m squirming here.”

“I just wanted to make sure. Now, let me see you,” you hummed, pecking his lips before urging him to lean back. With your free hand you pushed up his t-shirt, nudging him to hold the fabric up with his teeth so you could watch the muscles of his stomach clench with every shock of pleasure. Your fingers explored the smooth expanse of his chest, teasing around his nipples before toying with the piercings there. Hawks groaned around the fabric in his mouth, his back arched to press further into your teasing touches.

You worked him through the throes of his pleasure as his skin flushed a lovely shade of pink. You decorated his chest and stomach with pretty little hickeys, drunk on the way every suck drew a moan from him. When you used your tongue to tease at the piercings in his nipples, Hawks completely broke. He hiccuped and swore loudly, though muffled by the fabric clenched tightly between his teeth, as his cock twitched and throbbed between your fingers. Thick strands of cum splattered against his chest and drooled down his twitching muscles.

“Aren’t you a pretty mess,” you moaned, drinking in the sight of him blissed out. You leaned in, lapping up the cum from his skin, making Hawks shiver and gasp at the warm, wet passes of your tongue. Hawks pushed you back firmly before you could finish to kiss you sloppily, chasing the taste of himself on your tongue. He nipped at your bottom lip before slipping off your lap, urging your thighs to part as he knelt between them.

“You better get comfortable, dove,” Hawks said with a wicked grin, his eyes sparkling with lustful intent. “We’re going to be here for a while. I want to hear you sing for me.”

His hands were already tugging your sweatpants down your legs impatiently, making you swallow thickly. Good thing you both had off of work tomorrow.

#takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #echo writes #hawks smut #bnha smut #mha smut #takami keigo smut

155 notes · View notes