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jazzthatonewriterchick · 18 days

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In A Rut (Monster!Hawks x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

Pairing: Keigo “Hawks” Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Coworkers to Lovers)

Synopsis: You haven't seen your boss around the office in a while ever since he started feeling "under the weather", but when you decide to visit him one day to cheer him up with some soup, you realize that this isn't a normal spring cold. Your boss is in heat and you, his good little assistant, are the only one who can help him cure it.

Warnings: Monsterfucking; Monsterfucker!Reader; Mild Power Play; Boss x Assistant; Mild BDSM; MDom/fsub; Marking; Heat Symptoms; Hawks Has a Big ol’ Dick; Deepthroat; Cunnilingus; Sloppy, Rough Sex; Scent Play; Overstimulation; Ownership; Multiple Orgasms; Multiple Creampies; Multiple Positions; Cum Play; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Happy spring, y'all!! 💐💐🌼🌼🌻🌻 Fucking FINALLY winter & the cold is gone! Now that the weather is heating up, I wanted to write something about my favorite birdman suffering from heat. Enjoy! -Jazz

********

You’re worried about Mr. Takami.

Or “Hawks” as he’s told several of his employees, staff, and interns to call him around his agency time and time again. But as his personal assistant for over a year, you take respect and professionalism very seriously.

Hawks is one of the most laidback bosses you’ve had in your professional career. He doesn’t make you fetch coffee unless you’re getting some for yourself, he’s flexible with deadlines, he lets you go home early despite the workload, and has all of his employees take off on Fridays…which he also pays for.

Though it’s a nice change, you also can’t help but be wary of Hawks. It isn’t that he’s a bad guy. He is considerably nice––always greeting you in the mornings; checking up on you in the afternoons; letting you use his office when he isn’t in it, etc.

But he is also extremely cocky. It comes with the territory of being pro hero #2, you suppose, but the way he saunters into the office every Monday through Thursday in his designer clothes and Rolex watch always rubs you the wrong way.

Not to mention he’s a humongous flirt. Your friend calls it being “overly friendly”. She also says he doesn’t flirt with any other woman at his agency like he does you. He always gives you those charming smiles that seem to irk you to no end and puts that flirty lilt in his voice when he speaks to you. Not to mention the constant compliments on your outfits and work that stick with you until the end of your shifts.

Last week on Monday, the last day you saw him, was no different. You were sitting with your friend at your desk that morning, sipping on your iced coffee before the 9 AM meeting. Your friend was giving you the latest gossip on two employees hooking up in the stairwell during lunch last week when you both saw Hawks sauntering into the office.

“Shh, shh!” she hushes you even though you didn’t say anything. She straightened up and smiled at your boss, bowing. “Good morning, Mr. Takami,” she chirps. The blonde, in his navy blue suit and red bottoms, gave you each a smile that lingered on you for too long. “Ladies,” he greets.

You looked away, busying yourself by checking your email. “I’ve got your schedule and plans for today’s meeting for you,” your friend said, passing him a folder. “And your coffee, made by yours truly.” She nudged you, making you narrow your eyes at her.

“Ah, thank you!” Hawks happily sighed. “And I told you before: just call me Hawks. I don’t need all of that ‘Mr’ shit.” His golden eyes then trailed down to you, his stare making you feel uncomfortable in your long-sleeve blouse. “Thank you, Ms. L/N,” he purrs. “See you at the meeting?”

He gave you a wink, a hint at his joking manner, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. He was always picking on you like this. “I’m required to be there as your assistant so, yes,” you replied, blandly so.

He didn’t think anything of it. “Good,” he hummed happily. “I’ll need my right hand when I get tired of talking or my coffee doesn’t kick in fast enough. Carry on.”

He gave you a flitting wink before walking off to his office for some time alone. Once gone, your friend fanned herself. “Oh, my God, he’s so fucking fine!” she groaned. You shushed her, hitting her arm. “Come on, his office is right there!” you hissed. “He might hear you!”

“But isn’t he so fine?” your friend went on, ignoring your warning. “You have to admit that he’s fine!” You chose your words carefully, stirring your straw around in your coffee. “He’s…okay,” you weakly replied. “But he’s our boss! Whatever I think of him doesn’t matter.” At least you told yourself that.

The meeting was about new anti-discrimination policies in workplaces and merging with UA High and Indeed to create a special job website for aspiring pro heroes and those with quirks.

You sat across from Hawks and Rumi, his friend and co-owner of the agency, who sipped on her coffee free of cream and sugar. “Took you long enough,” she grumbled to Hawks. “What, you forget to fluff your feathers this mornin’ or somethin’?”

You giggled to yourself at her joke before the meeting started. You met with Principal Nezu who happily bowed in front of the laptop personally set up to meet his eye level. “Good morning, everyone!” he exclaimed. “I appreciate all of you for your time today, including the Indeed associates, and for Hawks for allowing me to take you away from work for a moment. Now, Hawks, if you would like to share your opinion first?”

The pro sat back in his chair, legs crossed and glasses perched on his eyes. You secretly liked it when he wore glasses. “I think it’s a perfect idea,” he said with a shrug. “As I’m sure all of you know, my agency is open to all new talent, whether they graduated from UA or not. We don’t discriminate against anyone with a particular quirk or education. As long as they are willing to learn, respect our rules, and participate in training, we will hire them.”

“But what if the public has concerns about who we hire and whether they will be able to effectively do their jobs with no UA education or license?” one of the Indeed associates asked. Hawks smiled. “I’m glad you asked that.” He nodded at you, smiling warmly. “Y/N, would you mind answering this question? After all, it’s your wonderful brain that came out with such a well-thought-out plan for this.”

Though you flushed at the compliment, you pushed those butterflies away and stood. “This agency is not new to the scrutiny of the public,” you explain, poised and calm. “Hawks and Nezu-san are proposing the opening of a new pro hero license program for those who cannot afford UA or are over the age of 18. This program would include…” You continued just as you rehearsed, not looking at Hawks who looked dead at you, almost as if he was staring through your clothes.

When you finally finished, you sat and Nezu thanked you for your well-spoken words. “What is your opinion on that, Hawks?” he asked. The pro didn’t answer, too busy staring at you. Now his eyes were hooded and looked slightly sharper than they were before. You squirmed uncomfortably in your seat, mostly because of how warm his stare made you.

“Hawks!” Rumi hisses in his ear. The blonde blinked, snapping out of it. “Huh?” he dumbly asked, looking up at the screen. “Are you alright?” Nezu worriedly asked. Everyone was staring at him, including you. He had never acted like this before. “Yeah, just…” He paused, clearing his throat as a flush appeared on his cheeks. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

Nezu repeated himself, asking for Hawks’ opinion on the internship program and when he’d prefer to announce it. “It is the spring already, but I believe the summer is when most of my student body will be looking to do internships,” he explained.

You watched as Hawks’ eyes grew wide at the mention of spring, but he did his best to keep it lowkey. But you noticed. “U-Uh, yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll do it in April.” You also noticed his body language for the rest of the meeting: his knee bouncing anxiously; his eyes flicking from yours to back at the screen or down at his papers; his cheeks flushed red.

Was he sick? Was it the coffee you made? After the meeting, Rumi confronted him on it, grabbing his elbow. “Hey, what the hell happened in there?” she asked. “You looked like you were about to deck Y/N!”

“I…sorry,” he huffed. “I just…” He paused, seeing you and his eyes roamed over your lower body in your pencil skirt. “I need to go to the bathroom,” he quickly replied before rushing off to his office. You followed him. You don’t know why you did. Maybe you felt obligated to do so as if his assistant. Maybe you just needed to make sure he was okay.

So you knocked on his door, tentatively so. “Come in,” he raggedly said. You opened the door and automatically closed it behind you. Hawks leaned against his desk, his back to you, breathing concerningly hard like he just got off the treadmill.

“Mr. Takami?” you questioned. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you walked farther into his spacious, high-rise office. “Hawks, is everything alright?” Hawks didn’t look at you as he spoke: “Y-Yeah,” he replied, still sounding winded. “What’s up?”

You stood two feet away from him, afraid to get near. You didn’t want to spook him or cross any boundaries. “I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be writing a ‘thank you’ email on your behalf to Nezu-san and the Indeed associates,” you lied though you were planning on doing that anyway.

But Hawks shook his head. “Don’t bother. You did a good job today, Y/N.” His voice sounded so off. It was usually light and syrupy, but now it sounded deep and raspy. It did things to you.

“Did I do something wrong?” you blurted, confused at his strange behavior. The blonde quickly shook his head, turning slightly towards you. His sleeves were rolled up, showing off his forearms and the feather tattoo on the inside of his left wrist. “No, no, of course not!” he protested. “I’m just…not feeling well.”

“Well, you know you can always go home,” you said. “We can hold down the fort here like we always do.” Finally, Hawks turned around and you saw how flushed he looked, his cheeks a rouge hue. He gave a smile that felt too intimate. Too adoring. “Thank you,” he sighed. “That’s so like you. Always so professional. Always so sweet.”

He took a step toward you and instinctively, you took a step back. “M-Mr. Takami?” you weakly asked. He continued to walk to you until you finally stood with your back to the wall, unable to escape him. His cologne clouded your senses, the scent of sweet and spicy invading your nostrils as he stopped in front of you.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice breathlessly and soft. “I…” He stopped, raising his hand to touch you. And then he stopped, dropping his hand and using it to cover his mouth instead. “I-I’m sorry,” he muffingly said. “You should go. I don’t wanna get you sick.”

Quickly, he reached beside you with his free hand and opened the door. The sound of chatter, coffee machines, and ringing phones smacked you back to reality. “You should go,” he said, his eyes willing you to do so. So you did and he shut the door in your face, leaving you feeling breathlessly and hot.

That was over a week ago. After the work day, Hawks headed home and sent out a staff meeting the next morning about being out because of a “spring cold”, but he’d be back soon. “Soon” hasn’t come yet. You haven’t heard anything from him in days!

It’s starting to worry you. A spring cold can’t last this long. Is it the flu? Is it something else? Plus, no one can seem to get in contact with him. What if something bad happened to him?

These worrying thoughts swim in your head all week every time you see Hawks’ empty office.

Finally, you reach your breaking point. You’re not going to call, text, or email him. You’re going to be a good assistant and instead, bring him something to let him know that you’re checking on him. Something to make him feel better. So on Friday, you leave work after your shift and stop by your favorite cafe to buy a bowl of their best chicken noodle soup.

You then drive to Hawks’ penthouse on the Upper East side of the city having kept his address to deliver things from work to his house if need be. When you park your car, you walk to the front door and click a button to buzz to his room. At first, nothing happens, so you press it again. Finally, on the third buzz, someone answers.

“Yeah?” a deep, raspy, growly voice barks. It startles you. “Uh…I’m sorry, do I have the wrong room?” you ask. “I’m looking for Keigo Takami.” The other end of the line pauses and you think that they left. “Y/N?” they ask, sounding shocked. “Why are you here?”

You blink at the speaker, shocked that this is your boss talking to you. Why does he sound like that? Is he that hoarse? “I came to give you some soup,” you say, suddenly shy. “I haven’t heard from you in days, so I bought this just to let up your spirits. That must be some cold.”

You wait for a response, but when he never gives it to you, you begin to feel stupid. This was a mistake. “Well, I’m gonna go now, but I’ll give it to your doorman so he can–”

“Don’t,” Hawks interrupts though he still sounds strained. “Come up.” You scowl in confusion, wondering if you misheard that, but then his doorman is meeting you at the front door to guide you to the elevator up to Hawks’ penthouse with the soup.

You take the elevator up, your heart pounding and your hands shaking slightly as they hold the soup. You almost explode from your nerves when you finally make it upstairs and the doors open, revealing Hawks’ beautiful, luxurious, and empty penthouse with an included gameroom, private gym, balcony, pool, mini bar, and expensive-looking kitchen. But he is nowhere to be found.

You walk further into the living room, your heels clicking across the hardwood floor. “Hawks?” you call. You don’t get any answer right away. The home is uncomfortably silent, making you feel paranoid. “Hawks!” you call again, louder this time. “Where are you?”

“Upstairs!” he rasps from the staircase leading to the upper floor. “Don’t come up here!” He sounds so pained. In such agony. You place the soup on the counter, confused and worried. What’s going on? Why does he sound like he’s in trouble?

Not listening at all to your boss’ warning, you slowly head up the steps, taking each tentative step further up in your heels. The hallway is dark when you finally make it upstairs, the only door open being the one at the end of the hallway. It is cracked and through it, you hear the sound of your boss’ soft pants and grunts of pain. Hawks’ bedroom.

Though something inside of you is telling you to turn around, you persevere and walk towards the bedroom. Slowly, you push the door open, revealing a dark masterbedroom with drawn curtains blocking out the outside world. “Hawks?” you tentatively question. “It’s just me. I just came to–”

“Go away!” he bellows from inside. “I told you not to come up here!” You jump, startled by the volume of his voice. He’s never yelled at you in such a way. You poke your head inside and gasp at the absolute mess of his bedroom: furniture askew; clothes and empty water bottles discarded on the floor; a rumbled mess of red sheets on the bed.

The smell in the air is thick with sweat and something else. Something tropical. Coconut oil? You look towards the king-sized bed where a heap sits hunched under the sheets which move up and down as it pants heavily. You thought it was just a pile of clothes at first, but no. There’s something under there.

“Hawks?” you question, your voice wavering in fear. The strange heap stirs, reacting to your voice. It breathes raggedly, almost as if it can’t get enough air in its lungs. “Hawks, what’s going on?” you demand. “Tell me. I want to help you.”

But he turns away, the sheets shifting as he does. “You can’t,” he whines. “You can’t.” Not being able to take how he sounds anymore, you storm over to the bed and snatch the sheets off of him. There, under the covers, you see your boss with your own two eyes. “H-Hawks?” you whisper. “Is that you?”

You almost can’t believe it. He has gotten much bigger in the past couple of days since you’ve last seen him, his muscles almost bulging. His pecs are ridiculously big, his nipples hard and perky, and veins protrude from his forearms and hands. Speaking of hands, they barely resemble human hands anymore. Red feathers sprout from his skin and long, sharp talons have grown out of his fingernails like knives.

When he looks at you, his face is flushed and his eyes are nothing more than red slits, those warm, golden irises gone. But all of those things aren’t even the most shocking to you. You are more shocked by the size of his wings. They have doubled in size, nearly taking up the entirety of the bed, and are red as the purest blood. His feathers shake and ruffle as if someone has run their fingers through them, disturbing their peace.

He looks shocked to see you and then embarrassed. “I didn’t want you comin’ up here,” he pants. “Didn’t want you seein’ me like…this.” He shifts and sits up so the sheet falls off of him, revealing his naked body to you. He is flushed and coated in sweat all over his tan skin and toned muscles. Your eyes trail down his abs and V-line to his cock which is way too obvious to look away from.

He is big and throbbing, the head a blush red and dripping in precum. One mouth-watering, angry vein trails from his shaft up to the head of his cock that twitches. Hawks winces, not looking like he is enjoying this at all. In fact, he looks like he’s in complete agony. You can’t be embarrassed or mortified by this when he looks so awful. “W-What happened to you?” you softly gasp.

He covers his throbbing dick with the sheet, but it’s no use. You can still see it protruding from underneath it, creating an obvious tent. “I’m in heat,” he sighs. “It’s what us mammals go through around this time. A spring thing.”

He wipes the sweat off of his forehead, his blonde hair soaked in it. “That’s why I’ve been hiding,” he explains. “I’ve been here tryna get through this, but I just…can’t!”

He grabs at his hair, running his hands through it. Now you understand it: his absence; the transformation; the smell of coconut oil in the air. You feel yourself blush, feeling hot in your clothes. All of this because he’s horny?

“How long does it last?” you curiously ask, but you’re not even sure you want to know. Hawks sighs, looking doomed. “Either a day or months depending on if my heat is satisfied.”

“Months?” you gasp. “Are you in pain?”

Hawks’ face screws up, triggering something in your core. “Terrible, baby,” he groans, wrapping a hand around his cock, his talons long enough to curl around the entire thing...and he’s at least 12 inches. “I can’t even sleep. I’ve been up for days, sweatin’ through my sheets and tryin’ to cum as many times as I can.” He releases himself and looks down at his hands, clenching them. “But my hands don’t do it for me anymore and I broke my fuckin’ toy.”

He nods at the fleshlight you didn’t even notice lying near his nightstand, completely broken in half. He completely tore that pussy out the frame, you realize in shock. What the fuck could he do to a real one? “O-Oh,” you exhale.

“Yeah,” he sighs, running his hand down his sweaty face. “I’m sorry about this, Y/N, really. I didn’t want anyone seein’ me like this.” He looks away from you, appearing so utterly humiliated and ashamed that it pains you. You find yourself not liking him like this: so utterly downtrodden and hopeless. “What can I do?” you blurt.

He faces you, his slitted eyes widening. “What?” he gasps. “What do you–”

“I wanna help you, Hawks,” you cut in, already taking off your cardigan to reveal your pretty, pink blouse underneath that you paired with a skirt. “What can I do to help you get through this?”

He watches you, looking completely stunned and mortified, but his cock also twitches at the sight of your outfit. “No, no, baby, no,” he protests. “Y-You can’t…you don’t need to do this.” But you stand firm on your decision, refusing to leave him like this. “I know I don’t need to,” you firmly respond. “I want to. Just look at you! I can’t let you go on like this.”

Hawks still doesn’t move, but his cock begins to leak pre for you, dripping down his thick thighs and onto the mattress. The sight is so lewd but so arousing, making your pussy throb indeciently in your panties. You shouldn’t be doing this. There are so many consequences you could face from this…but you also find that you don’t care right now. “Let me help you, Hawks,” you whisper. “Just tell me what I need to do to help you. I’m your assistant, after all.”

A fire explodes behind Hawks’ eyes, lit with lust and need. A low growl leaves his chest and you find that he has fangs in his mouth. The sight scares and thrills you. “You wanna help me?” he asks in his low, deep voice. “Then take off your clothes.”

You swallow hard, feeling like you just dry-swallowed a gigantic pill. You start with your blouse, your painted fingernails teasing the buttons before you begin to pop them open one by one. You expose your lacy bra to him, one of your favorites because of how it makes your breasts look: pretty, juicy, and appetizing with the lace trim of the cups adorning them.

You peel off the blouse and let it fall to your feet. Hawks barely notices it, too busy staring dead at your chest. He slowly begins to pump his cock with his hand, lewd, wet sounds of his pre and coconut oil acting as lubricants drifting to your ears. Under his laser-eyed gaze, you feel like an animal being watched behind a cage. A specimen. It makes you feel slightly uncomfortable, but also hot and bothered to see that you’re affecting him so deeply.

You then move to your skirt and begin to unzip it, but Hawks puts a hand out to stop you. “Slowly, mama,” he raggedly says. “Don’t rush this.” Biting your lip, you slowly drag the zipper down and then slide the skirt off of your waist, leaving you in just your matching bra and panties. You go to take off your stockings and heels, but he stops you. “Leave ‘em on,” he demands.

So you stand there, arms at your sides and trembling like a leaf. “Turn around,” he orders, his pink lips parted as he continues to fuck his hand nice and slow. You listen and turn, exposing your ass to him. “Ah, shit,” he hisses, soft pants leaving his lips. “I knew you had a nice ass.”

You bite your lip, feeling your pussy flutter and throb impatiently. “Sit on the bed and bend over for me,” he orders. “I’m not gonna touch you. I just wanna see you rub that pussy for me, okay?”

You turn around, staring down at your shoes. “Yes, sir,” you whisper and flush at your words. They just came out of you, as naturally as breathing.

Hawks shudders, affected by your reply. “Such a good girl,” he sighs dreamily. “I’ll definitely take that over just ‘Hawks’ right now. But ‘Keigo’ works too.” Your face grows hot with a blush, having never referred to him by his first name before. Not wanting to waste his time, you slowly get on the bed and face away from him, your feet tucked under your butt.

Then you bend over for him, your back arched. “Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, softly panting and the move bouncing slightly from his ministrations on himself. “Pull those panties to the side, baby. Let me see you.” Biting your lip so hard that you’re sure to draw blood, you pull the thin strip of cotton covering your sodden, wet, puffy pussy to the side and expose all of you to him.

Hawks shudderingly moans at the sight of the wet strand of your arousal connected from your pussy lips to your panties. “God, mama,” he groans. “You have the prettiest pussy. Look how wet you are!” He growls once more, sounding so much like an animal. “You like what you’re doin’ to me?” You can tell he’s started to stroke himself harder, faster, his pants and heavy breaths becoming more intense. “Keigo,” you softly whimper.

You’ve never been this horny before. Your pussy is about to slide off the bone with how wet it is.

“That’s right, say my name,” he groans. “Play with your pussy, baby. Don’t let me do this alone.”

So you do. You sneak your hand down your ass, teasing him before you begin to rub your cunt for him in time with his strokes. A weak moan leaves your lips as you rub your clit in tiny, firm circles, your ministrations impassioned by the sounds leaving Hawks’ lips. He sounds so desperate. So slutty as he pumps his cock, imagining that he’s doing so to your pretty, little pussy. “So fuckin’ cute,” he says, agonized at your beauty and sexiness. “How the fuck are you this adorable?”

You want to look back and see him, but you get the feeling that he doesn’t want to be watched, so you instead close your eyes and drift away at the sounds of his moans and his lubed cock fucking his hand, making the bed bounce slightly underneath you. You imagine that he’s fucking you like that, his big hands gripping your ass and talons digging into the fleshy part of your ass cheeks. You can almost feel his cock stretching you out, pumping you full again and again as he uses you, doing his best to not break you like he did his fleshlight.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “K-Keigo!” you whine. “Fuck, I’m about to cum!” Hawks groans at your warning, happy to hear this. “Uh-huh,” he pants. “Do it for me, baby. Cum all over those fingers for me.”

And you do. You rub and flick your clit until it can’t take any more stimulation and explodes all over your hand. Your sweet moans of release push Hawks over the edge. “Fuck!” he bellows, his voice bouncing off of the walls as he cums in his hand, shooting warm cum all over his thighs and stomach. Your moans and whines mix with one another, creating a symphony of pleasure as you both cum together.

When the high of your orgasms finally fades, you both sit there for a moment, panting and sitting in the reality of your situation. “I…I’m sorry,” Hawks awkwardly huffs.

You don’t answer, unsure of what to say until you turn around and find that he’s still hard. “Keigo!” you gasp. “Y-You’re still–”

“I know,” he sighs, frustration evident in his handsome face. “Like I said, my hands ain’t doin’ it for me at this point. I need more.”

His slitted eyes, red as crimson blood, narrow at you, a deeper meaning in his words. You gulp, weighing your options but only briefly. You realize you’re thinking more with your pussy than with your head, but the curiosity of feeling Hawks’ wings wrapped around you while he fucks you is too tempting.

“Keigo, it’s okay,” you softly purr, putting a hand on his thigh. He flinches as if your touch burns him. “We can do more if you need it.” You then dip your fingers between your thighs and come back with them dripping in your cum. His cock twitches at the sight, but he doesn’t have to imagine how you taste for too long.

You lean forward and put your fingers to his lips. “Use me,” you say, a plea in your voice. “I’m all yours.”

Right then, something in Hawks snaps the moment he wraps his lips around your fingers and greedily sucks your cum off of them. He is no longer entirely human, his animal instincts taking over. He snatches you up and places you in his lap, emitting a small gasp from you at being yanked up so forcefully. “Just tell me ‘no’ if you want me to stop,” he orders. “And tap my thigh three times if I got my cock in that mouth. Understand me?”

Unable to reply, you wordlessly nod. That’s enough for him. Immediately, he’s on you, pressing a rough yet passionate kiss to your lips, nibbling on your bottom lip and swirling his tongue with yours. His kiss is brutal yet hot; forceful yet careful as he wraps you up in his arms and soft wings. It’s the best kiss you’ve had in your life.

And the sex he gives you by far trumps all of the other bedroom adventures you’ve had. You’re so glad he gave you a non-verbal safety precaution because Hawks takes the “use” thing literally when he finally gets his dick down your throat. He is as big and thick as he looks, your fingers barely being able to wrap around his girty, throbbing shaft.

You have to cover his cock in copious amounts of spit and coconut oil just to make it easier to stroke him, Hawks’ crimson, lustful eyes and soft moans encouraging you. “That’s it, baby bird,” he growls, one clawed hand in your hair. “Take me nice and easy.” Though he allows you to slowly take his cock down your throat, it doesn’t do much to ease the stretch of your jaw.

Unfortunately for you, Hawks’ heat gets the best of him and his impatience rises, making your time to adjust to his size shorter. When he grabs your hair and begins to fuck your face, you have no choice but to take it. He shoves his cock so deep down your throat that your eyes burn with tears and embarrassing, wet gagging sounds leave your mouth as you gurgle around his cock that throbs and pulses in your mouth.

“Thaaat’s my girl,” Hawks grunts, staring down at you throating his dick. “You’re takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird, y’know. You could make this a profession if workin’ as an assistant don’t work out.” He takes his cock out and taps it against your tongue, loving how slutty you look for him with your tongue hanging out and makeup a mess.

“Or you could add this to your duties of bein’ my little assistant,” he hums, smearing his cockhead across your plump lips. “You could fetch my coffee and take this dick over my desk every workday. How would that sound?” He doesn’t allow you to answer as he grabs you again and forces you down onto his cock, groaning at how amazing your wet tongue and soft mouth feel. “God!” he groans. “I hope your pussy is this fuckin’ tight.”

His curiosity gets the best of him. After a few minutes of fucking your throat like it’s a toy, he pulls out with a moan, giving you heart eyes at the image of your messy hair and sloppy mouth dripping in spit. He holds your face in his big hands, his talons gently caressing your cheeks. “On your back,” he orders. You must go too slow for him because he tosses you down onto your backside himself and quickly ducks between your thighs, his big, feathered hands parting them.

“K-Keigo,” you stammer, but that’s all you can get out before he’s cutting the waistband of your panties off with his teeth and sliding his big, fat, wet tongue all over your slit.

All words cease to exist as pleasure washes over you which only builds the more his tongue swirls against your clit and inside of you. Your eyes widen and your hands dig into the skin of his muscular back that flexes as he dips his head low to eat you out. His soft wings caress your skin as they wrap around you, making you feel like you’re being pampered from all ends.

Hawks knows how to run his mouth, but also knows how to work it. His tongue moves magically inside of you, slurping up your juices as his nose and soft lips bump against your clit. You grind your hips up into him, meeting his tongue thrusts while his talons dig into the fleshy parts of your ass.

You can’t keep quiet, too enveloped in the ecstasy you’re feeling. “God, yes, Keigo!” you whine, bucking your hips up. “That feels so fuckin’ good! Keep going, please, ooooh, shit!”

Hawks gladly takes all of those lovely sounds, moaning into your cunt. He is a rapid, ravenous animal, slurping up your pussy like he’s yearning for it. “So good,” he whines into your clit. “So fuckin’ good.”

Your orgasm comes rather quickly, that knot in your core threatening to snap as he continues to work his tongue in and out of you. “Fuck, Kei!” you sob. “I’m gonna fuckin’ cum! Please let me cum, sir please!”

“Mmm-hmm,” Keigo hums, sucking gently on your pussy lips. “Do it for me, baby bird. Cum all over my fucking face.” He goes back to eating you out, moving his tongue against that little spot up and inside of you that makes you see stars. “Do it,” he growls in his deep, gravelly voice. “Fuckin’ cum for me. Give it to me now!”

A scream erupts from you–”Oh, shit!”–as you explode all over Hawks’ tongue. He moans in release with you as he slurps and laps you up, drinking in all that give him while you buck and writhe under his hands. Even when the orgasm high fades, he doesn’t stop. He continues to eat you out even as your pussy and body twitches. “O-Okay, Hawks,” you stammer. “Please, ah, please stop. I-I can’t…oh, my God!”

Tears prick your eyes as the agonizing pleasure continues, swallowing you whole. His crimson eyes stare up into yours between your thighs, loving how desperate and pathetically horny you look as you writhe against his tongue. But as good as you taste, he needs to know how you feel. So he hikes himself up on top of you, his big body covering your smaller one, and his wings creating a curtain around you.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, baby,” he pants. “I need to fuck you now and when I do, I ain’t gonna be nice. I need to cum as many times as it takes to ease this heat and that could be hours. You sure you’re okay with that?” Despite his obvious need, he is holding back, his cock throbbing against your thigh.

Knowing that, you nod and press a kiss to his lips. “Yes, Keigo,” you purr. “I want this too.” You give him a smile, pretty and seductive. “So fuck me.”

The pro doesn’t need to be told twice. He starts by fucking you on your back, your knees tucked up into your chest. You’re happy for the lubricant and orgasm because it is a stretch. His cock stretches your pussy out in a way it didn’t do to your jaw, making your mouth go slack and your eyes widen. “Relax, mama,” he coos, pressing a kiss to your face while he rubs your clit. “You’re doin’ so well takin’ me.”

After a few minutes of adjusting and slow strokes, Hawks feels you relax around him and finally begins to pound you like he needs to. He fucks you into the mattress that shakes and bounces beneath you, making your tits bounce in time with his thrusts. Each pump of his thick cock sends sparks of pleasure throughout your body as your soft, spongy pussy walls stretch and mold into his shape.

“O-Oh, my God!” you cry, grasping his shoulders as he takes you straight to poundtown. “Fuck, Keigo, yes, baby! Fuck me just like that!”

The winged pro grips your thighs and pins them down to the bed, giving you a stretch that yoga couldn’t even do. “Just like that?” he teasingly asks, smirking down at you. “Look at you takin’ this dick like a champ, baby bird. Bet you couldn’t wait for your boss to fuck you, huh?”

You whine in response, earning a tongue shoved in your mouth as Hawks gives you a wet French kiss while he pounds into you. He nuzzles his nose into your neck next, covering himself in your scent and you in his.

You’re so deep in the pleasure that you don’t even realize that Hawks’ feathers, sharpened to the touch, cut off your bra until you feel the cool air on your nipples and then pleasure as he stimulates them with his feathers.

When he begins to get closer, his crimson eyes glow red and the black rimming his eyes grows sharper like a hawk’s. You feel scared yet aroused at the same time, your pussy clenching around his cock. “I’m gonna cum, baby,” he grunts. “Gonna fill you up. Want you to fuckin’ cum with me too!”

“Fuck, Hawks!” you whine, tossing your head back against the pillow. Your second orgasm erupts and sends you on a trip while Keigo fucks you like he’s trying to hit a home run. When he cums, he does so with an animalistic grunt and grips your hips so hard that they bruise. He tosses his blonde hair back, every muscle in his body tense from the pleasure. You gasp as he fills you up with his cum, feeling warmth flooding inside of you. It feels good to be full, you realize.

But even when the orgasm fades and he has successfully filled you up, Hawks looks down at you with an increased level of need and lust that shakes you. “I ain’t done with you yet,” he growls.

And he’s not. He fucks you in every single position imaginable. He fucks you doggy style, his cock pumping into you again and again while he yanks on your hair and dirty talks in your ear.

“You my little slut?” he pants, his hand grabbing and smacking your ass. “You love gettin’ fucked by me? You love this number 2 pro hero dick, don’t you, baby?” You can only whine in response, words and logical thoughts completely gone as he turns your pussy into mush.

He fucks you on your side, his big body spooning yours and red wings wrapped around you as his throbbing cock drives inside of you. In this position, it’s easier to rub your clit and tilt your head back to kiss him, the two of you sharing breath as you hotly pant and moan into each other’s mouths.

He fucks you with your head hanging off the bed and your leg pinned up to get a better angle at your G-spot and to drive himself deeper into you.

He fucks you in mating press, his feet on the bed as he mounts you and drives himself inside of you like he’s trying hard to breed you.

He fucks you in full nelson.

In prone bone, his hands massaging your ass.

While standing up, you bouncing like a cute little fuck bunny in his arms on his dick.

From the bottom while you ride him, both from the front and the back, his hands groping your bouncing tits and jiggling ass.

“Mine,” he growls to you in every position known to bed that he puts you in. “You’re fuckin’ mine, baby bird. Only mine.”

And in every single position, he makes you and himself cum. He seems to always know how to trigger your orgasm so you cum again and again. He then uses your tight walls to chase his orgasms, cumming inside of you and filling up over and over again. He makes you sweat out your hair and your makeup, making you look like the sexiest Goddess to him as you take his cock like it’s your job.

By the time he finally finishes, hours have passed and you are spent. Your body aches. You are wet with sweat and cum. Your pussy twitches and is sloppy with his and your cum mixed together, all of it dripping down your thighs and through the crack of your ass.

Hawks, finally back to his normal self, lies down next to you and snuggles you into his chest. “Thank you for doin’ that,” he sighs, pecking you on the forehead. “You did so, so well for me, honey. I hope a dinner date can make up for that workout.”

You only mewl tiredly in response, but you wrap your arms around him and snuggle into his chest. He chuckles, the sound pleasant to your ear pressed against his heart. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he sighs.

And then you sleep, satisfied and comfortable finally.

THE END.

#hawks x black reader #hawks x black!reader #hawks smut #keigo aka my husband #keigo takami x black reader #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #bnha smut #black writers #keigo takami #tw monsterfucking

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copperbadge · 11 months

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mreisse

As a newish cat owner, I have to ask what you do when you travel. Do you have a sitter come in? Leave food and water, they'll be fine? So far I've been lucky, my family takes care of the fluffbutts, but inquiring minds want to know your process

Figured I’d pull this out and reply to it on main :D If it’s only a day or two I generally don’t bother with a sitter -- like if I’m gone Friday night through Sunday afternoon or something like that. Mine are pretty self-sufficient and not super food-driven so in theory I could leave a bowl of food out with a few bowls of water and they’d be fine for 3-4 days, but two days is about the longest they can go without having their litterbox cleaned (if you have multiple boxes this is less of an issue but mine really only use one, and they share it, so it gets full fast). So if I’m gone any longer -- like this time, when I left Thursday and returned Monday -- I like to have someone come in daily. Yes, some of it is the litterbox, but also it’s just good to have someone looking to make sure they’re not hurt or sick.

I used to ask friends to do it and depending on the situation I sometimes still will, but part of it was that I couldn’t find a good sitting agency (or individual sitter) who I felt I could trust, because I’d reach out to them and never hear back, which does not inspire confidence. I finally did find a really good agency, Purr Inc, which only handles cats (a lot of petsitters will only sit for cats if you also have a dog). They’re a local Chicago outfit and they’ve been fantastic every time. They send out reminders to “book care now!” before major travel holidays, they do booking entirely online, and you get an email daily with photographs and a little blurb about how the visit went. When I was delayed getting home because of the blizzard last December, I messaged them in a panic like “I’m stuck because of the Southwest meltdown, please can you send someone out for one more day; I know it’s a busy time and I’m happy to pay extra” and they got back to me within half an hour, got someone out there for the extra day, and didn’t charge extra for it. The daily fee isn’t insignificant, I think for the “standard” visit it’s $28/day, but worth it for the peace of mind, and I just budget for that when I travel.

I found them just by googling “cat sitter chicago” and going through the various service sites until I found one that would come to my neighborhood, didn’t look shady, and responded to me when I asked for more information.

#mreisse #dearborn and polk #cats #catsitting

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wordsinhaled · 1 year

Text

something something established relationship shenanigans ~*~ there was more i wanted to add to this, but i had to wallop a pretty impressive bout of imposter syndrome into submission to post this, so i'm just gonna let it float off down the river the way it is <3

Hob wakes up with his mind already on Dream.

He pictures Dream getting his morning coffee—holding the steaming cup, lid off, the “M” in “Morfius” scribbled on the side peeking out from beneath his grip. They do tend to misspell it, Hob's noticed, in some occasionally tragic ways.

Dream would scoff and say, “This is precisely why I tell them my name is Murphy..." Hob would get his pen out of his shirt pocket and correct Dream's name for him. The ink would feather on the styrofoam, of course, and he'd probably need to tune the nib later, but it'd be worth it for the lift in Dream's forlorn expression, for the tiny satisfied smile it earned.

Hob’s thoughts drift to Dream during his lectures, too.

He remembers how they’d sat up in Hob’s bed together one evening earlier in the week while Hob skimmed through the assigned reading and marked pages in the book with sticky note flags to correspond to his discussion questions. How Dream had said to him, eventually, “You should not do your work in bed, Hob. Beds are to be used for sleep.”

How Dream’s hand had wandered up Hob’s thigh under the covers and curled around his hip, and he'd rubbed small circles there with his thumb, until Hob had looked over at him, and put down his book at last, and said, amused, “Your mind seems a bit far from sleep, love."

He'd found Dream’s eyes sparkling at him, mischievous and starry-dark, before Dream leaned over and took his reading glasses from his face, and said, “Beds can be for other things as well, of course.”

(In the end, Hob was in fact no longer doing that sort of work in bed, so he guesses Dream won that one.)

There’s a knock on Hob’s office door around noon.

Hob is expecting a student, or a colleague, but instead it’s Dream—his Dream, but not quite the same as ever: longer- and wilder-haired, leather-jacketed, taller than usual, an assortment of earrings and studs glinting in his ears.

Hob lights up.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Your thoughts have circled me rather insistently today,” Dream says, “and there was not much to do in the Dreaming. I thought I might visit.”

Hob knows there is always something for Dream to do in the Dreaming—knows Dream is, effectively, taking an actual break if he is here now. It makes his heart feel full to know his lover is choosing to share this scant, stolen time with him—and even more so to know Dream has, for once, done something for himself, however small.

He walks around his desk, kisses Dream hello. Dream tastes, impossibly, like the cinnamon latte Hob had imagined he'd have ordered that morning. He has to kiss him again to make sure; and once more after that, slow and indulgent; until he remembers he has actual work to do, and then he pulls back and touches his fingertips to Dream's choker. “This is new, darling. What’s this look, then?”

“I am... experimenting,” Dream says, the tiniest bit smug. Hob gives him the kind of thorough once-over that he hopes communicates his appreciation raucously enough.

“I’ve been attacking my emails,” he says, going regretfully back to his chair, “they’re never-ending, I swear. And I’ve got a Zoom with Liam about his writing project at two. But I hope you’ll stay anyway? Sit anywhere you like.”

“Of course,” Dream says. “I would not dream of keeping you from your tasks, Hob.”

Hob just raises his eyebrows at him, pointed, until Dream laughs—a sound that used to be so rare, one Hob is still getting used to being able to evoke. It's an odd little noise, different every time; today it’s pitched low, somewhere between a cat’s purr and a human chuckle, and the vibration of it strokes a gentle but insistent warmth down Hob’s spine.

He expects he’ll accomplish remarkably little, if things go on this way.

Sit anywhere you like proves to be a difficult invitation. Hob’s office is largely taken up by his desk and his bookshelves on the best of days; his bicycle and umbrella vie for one corner. Most of the remaining space is currently occupied by a massive box, which contains Hob’s most recent order of secondhand books. Seating for visitors is almost an afterthought at the minute.

Yet Dream accepts Hob's challenge with aplomb, settles on the unopened box as though it is as good as any throne to him, and Hob returns to clearing out his messages.

He can feel Dream watching him, but whenever he glances up over the top of his computer, Dream has his nose buried in some tome or other plucked from Hob’s shelf. The afternoon passes like this—all through Hob’s Zoom call, during which Hob listens more distractedly than he'd like to Liam's latest additions to his thesis draft, and sweats lightly under the heat of Dream's gaze.

The moment his meeting is done, Hob snaps his laptop shut, the resounding click making Dream look up from the copy of Women's Libraries in Late Medieval Bourbonnais, Burgundy, and France he'd been perusing.

"Want to get out of here?" Hob asks.

#the sandman #dreamling #hob: if you spoil me on this book that i JUST got on preorder i'm gonna riot #dream: MY BELOVED I WOULD NEVER #hob: you would and you know it #i don't know that they actually make it home to be honest #hob's got Things to Do

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mabelstone · 10 months

Text

Third Base

matt stone x reader

summary: part three of Professor Stone.

words: 1714

warnings: oral sex (m receiving), brief fingering.

note: THIS IS 18+ i finally decided to quit blue balling you all. i haven't properly written smut before so i hope its okay xx pls give me feedback in my asks

if you haven't read previous parts, here are parts one and two.

Part Three.

It’d been about 5 days since you started receiving private tutoring from your professor. To say the very least, the tension had grown thicker with every hour spent together, the flirty comments flowing freely with no discretion. The thing that solidified your crush was when he stood behind your chair, arms on either side of the desk, taking the pen from your hands and correcting your work. His chin lightly brushing the top of your head as he explained where you went wrong, the smell of his cologne going straight to your core.

In your previous session, he confided in you about the situation with his ex-wife and how she’d made the last 3 months of his life torture. She wouldn’t let him see his kids often and even kept tabs on his location. This resulted in the two of you sharing a hug that lasted a bit too long to be considered friendly, not that anyone was complaining. His large arms cocooned you in warmth, causing a feeling you’d never expect a man twice your age to conjure. The poor guy couldn’t catch a break, and certainly didn’t have time to get laid. He was clearly pent up and so sexually frustrated.

As you finished the quiz he prepared for you, and he was typing away at emails on his computer. You’d dreamt about him for the past two nights and didn’t know how much longer you could pretend your vibrator was him, especially when he was only in arms reach every afternoon. That’s how you ended up here, deciding to say fuck it and make a move that could either benefit you both, or get you kicked out of his class and possibly the entire university. You placed a hand on his thigh, tracing light circles into the material of his jeans. You heard his breath hitch, and he stopped typing. With your eyes glued on him, you slowly moved your hand higher up his thigh, watching the way his jaw clenched.

“Is this okay, sir?” You bit your lip as breathed through his nose, nodding in response. You grabbed one of his hands and moved it up to grab your breast. He finally turned his head, looking at you, then your lips, then your breast that fit perfectly in his hand. “Fuck,” he practically whimpered, squeezing the soft flesh harder. You placed your hand on his hardening cock, palming him through his jeans. He groaned, grabbing your jaw with his other hand, and smashing your lips together in desperation. You let out a little squeal when he grabbed your hips and pulled you into his lap, grabbing your ass through your skirt. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, finally discovering how his lips tasted. He tasted like spearmint, and his lips were softer than you could have ever fathomed. Your lips moved in sync, Professor Stone deepening the kiss, placing one of his hands into the back of your hair, pulling you impossibly closer.

He pulled away briefly, shoving two fingers into your mouth for you to suck. You wrapped your lips around his long digits, hollowing out your cheeks and swirling your tongue around them. His eyes grew dark and hooded, his mouth falling slack before he roughly pulled you back onto his mouth. He slipped your panties to the side, teasing your entrance before slowly sliding one finger in. You let out a delighted purr at the sudden feeling, clenching around him. He slowly moved his finger in and out, before ramming both in, causing you to gasp loudly. You bounced on his fingers, detaching your lips from his to rest your forehead on his shoulder, breathing heavily. He continued to finger-fuck you at devilish pace, leaving hot, wet kisses all over your neck.

“Professor,” you panted, lifting your head back to his eye level. “I wanna suck your cock.”

He groaned at your words, his cock leaking precum all over his briefs. He nodded fast, pulling his fingers out and sucking your wetness off them. Your pussy throbbed at the sight, quickly pulling yourself off his lap and unbuckling his belt. You made quick work of unzipping his jeans, gawking at the large tent that had grown in his briefs. “C-can I do it under your desk?” You asked shyly, oddly embarrassed by your request.

“Is that a turn on for you?” He teased, running his fingers through your hair as you got on your knees before him, backing into the space under his desk. A dark blush flooded your cheeks as you nodded, looking up at him doe eyed. “Of course you have a teacher fetish, I should’ve seen it coming.”

You gave him a stern look and he threw his hands up in defence. “Don’t ruin this, you’ve clearly got a student fetish.” He rolled his eyes and you pouted, causing him to bend down a place a sweet kiss to your lips.

“Sorry,” he said, running his thumb over your bottom lip. He sat back and you pushed yourself up with your toes, pressing a single kiss to the thin cotton constricting his throbbing length. You placed your fingers under the waistband of his briefs, slowly pulling them down to reveal his pretty, thick cock. Like, painfully thick. You gulped before looking into his eyes and licking a long stripe from his base to tip, his long fingers grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“May I, professor?” You asked innocently, looking up at him through long lashes, giving him a few slow pumps as you licked his precum off your lips. His cock so large in your hand that your fingers couldn’t even touch.

“Please,” he whimpered, the noise going straight to your heat, the pool in your knickers only growing wetter. With that, you wrapped your mouth around the tip, circling your tongue around it for a moment, before slowly drawing the rest of his length into your mouth. “Jesus Christ,” he cursed, one hand in your hair, the other gripping the desk in front of him. You hollow your cheeks and increase your pace, feeling his grip tighten in your hair.

“Look at me,” he commanded darkly, his lip caught in his teeth as he pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail. He pushed you down slowly, making you take the lead and force his whole length in. You sped up again, your nose smashing into his pubic bone each time you bobbed up and down. The back of his cock continually hitting your throat, causing you to gag around him. You watched as he threw his head back, spewing a string of curse words.

“Professor?” You both heard from outside, a small knock on the door. Your eyes widened up at him, his cock still between your lips.

“Shhh,” he looked down at you, bringing his pointer finger to his lips like a parent shushing their child. He cleared his throat before calling out, “yeah, come in.”

You pulled him out of your mouth, causing him to grab your head roughly and place your mouth around it again.

“Sorry for stopping by so late, sir, I was hoping to catch you.” A male voice echoed through the theatre, approaching his desk. “I just really needed to ask you about the assessment. I don’t understand this question at all.”

“What, your emails don’t work?” He taunted the student. You dug your nails into his calf as a warning to watch his tone, slowly pulling your mouth off him. “I-I’m joking, what part doesn’t make sense?” You smirked, resuming your work. He explained the question to the student while running his fingers through your hair, pausing occasionally to compose himself. You reached a hand up to gently play with his balls, causing his knee to jerk up and hit the table. You stifled a laugh.

“Are you okay, sir?” The student asked, and you wished so badly you could see his face.

“Oh, yeah, I uh, I think I’m coming down with something.” He lied, forcing your head down to take all of him in once again. You slipped a hand into your drenched panties, circling your clit as you quickened your pace around your professor. You moaned softly, your professor coughing to drown the sound before the student noticed. As the student continued talking, the older man before him mimicked your old trick and ‘accidentally’ knocked a book onto the floor. He bent down to get it, glancing at you touching yourself under his desk. Your cheeks were rosy, brows knitted together in pleasure, and he nearly came just from the sight of it.

“How about you go grab your laptop for me and I’ll quickly type up a cheat sheet for you, okay?” He offered the student, earning himself some brownie points with you. The student thanked him, hurrying out of the theatre. Once he was gone, Professor Stone looked down at you, euphoria glazing your eyes.

“Fuck,” he whined. “Keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.” You blinked away tears, adding pressure to your clit, your breath quickening as you approached your peak, spit dribbling down the sides of your mouth as you continued to work the older man. “That’s it, pretty girl, cum for me.”

Pretty girl. That tipped you over the edge, the warmth in your stomach bubbling over as you climaxed hard, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you whimpered loudly.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, warm ribbons of cum shooting into your mouth and down your throat. Your pace around his cock was unrelenting and cruel, like you were trying to suck him dry. You swallowed his cum with his tip still in the back of your throat. He winced as the overstimulation became painful, pulling your mouth off with a loud pop. Your lips were swollen and flushed, saliva dripping down onto your chin. You looked up at him with tired eyes, panting rapidly.

“Did I do okay?” You asked him breathlessly, wiping your saliva off your mouth with the back of your hand. He helped you up from the desk, pulling you into his lap.

He brushed your unruly hair behind your ears, kissing you gently. “If your math skills were half as good as that, you’d be head of the class.”

#matt stone #matt stone x reader #south park #trey parker #trey parker x reader #baseketball #matt stone smut #doug remer #matt and trey #doug remer x reader #trey parker smut #orgazmo #professor!au #professor!matt stone

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you-remind-me-of-the-babe · 5 months

Text

Friends. Friends. I’ve done it. Achieved the thing I’ve been working at for a year and a half. I’ve finished writing the end to Depth of Reason.

It still needs to go through a beta read and final edits but it should be published soon. I’m adding 16k between the last chapter and a surprise epilogue. I still can’t believe I’ve reached the end. It’ll be 70k when all is said and done. So, to celebrate my last WIP posting for this fic, you’re getting two snippets (much more than six sentences 😆)

“You’re the one trying to one up me, Snow.”

I run my hands through his hair. “You have to call me Simon when you’re talking about loving me.”

He kisses my neck and leaves his face there when he says, “It isn’t easy being vulnerable.”

“I know,” I say softly. “But I’m still going to ask.”

He sighs before pulling back to look at me properly. “I love you, Simon.”

I kiss him sweetly.

“Love you, too, Pitch!” I say, before pinching his sides relentlessly.

He squeals and squirms up the bed. “Treachery! Betrayal!” I laugh so hard my sides ache.

He hooks a leg around me and flips us, pining me to the bed so fast I’m almost dizzy with the change of position. He’s sitting astride me now, and he’s got my arms locked firmly in his fingers, my fists pressed against the headboard. It’s kind of hot, the way he has me at his mercy. He smirks down at me.

“Say it,” he purrs.

I swallow and I don’t miss the fact that his eyes flick to my throat when I do.

“I love you, Baz,” I say in a husky voice that seems to have come from nowhere. “I love you so—”

He captures my mouth before I can finish.

And one more:

When we get to the courtroom, all eyes turn to us when we enter. I’m heartened to see Baz’s parents and aunt sitting in the seats behind the defence, along with a few other familiar faces. Gran is sitting next to Daphne, she smiles at us as we walk up the middle aisle. Nico is next to Fiona, his tongue running along his teeth. I wonder if it bothers him, being in this room that I imagine is full of bad memories for him.

Trixie is there, too. She places a fist over her heart and nods to Baz, a twinkle in her eye. Baz’s cousin, Dev is there too, next to their friend Niall. Even Mr Minos, Miss Possibelf and Coach Mac, which is impressive considering it's a Monday in November. Headmistress Bunce couldn’t make it, but she sent Penny a very lovely email to pass on to Baz, wishing him the best of luck. I hope he feels bolstered, having all of these people here supporting him. I hope he knows that he’s not alone in this.

Y’all. I made it. Thank you to @fatalfangirl who will be marathoning through a beta read and who has been there with me since day 1. What a champ. Thank you to @toonysart who chose to do art for this fic way back when it was a mere concept for COBB. Your art still brings me so much joy. Thank you to everyone who has followed this fic. You made writing and sharing a wonderful experience.

Tags and love ands happy Sunday 💛 @fatalfangirl @toonysart @whatevertheweather @cutestkilla @artsyunderstudy @thewholelemon @raenestee @moodandmist @facewithoutheart @martsonmars @onepintobean @bookish-bogwitch @rimeswithpurple @prettygoododds @orange-peony @forabeatofadrum @nausikaaa @aristocratic-otter @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife @whogaveyoupermission @iamamythologicalcreature @run-for-chamo-miles @nightimedreamersworld @youarenevertooold @valeffelees @hushed-chorus

#depth of reason #the end!#snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #my writing #carry on fanfiction

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ffarawaysworld · 1 year

Text

"Babyyyy welcome home!", you cheered as you ran to your front door. Wakasa was so ready to take you in his embrace only for him to be disappointed.

"Where have you been? I missed you~!", you hugged your cat that was just home at the same time Waka came back. "Meoww", the cat purrs and it made you pouts. "Is my baby hungry? Let's go eat!", you said as you bring her to her bowl. You took few steps back and kissed Waka on his chin, "Welcome home!", you said before leaving him standing still at the front door.

You just done washing the dishes after dinner and was about to shower when you saw Waka bickering with the cat. It was unbelievable. Your cat was on the couch while Waka was on the floor; chin resting on the couch with his lips pouting to the cat.

"Meow"

"No"

"Meoww"

"Listen, i saved you from the drain and we brought you home. Now her attention is all on you. Spare me some.."

"Meoww", and your cat boops his nose. Waka can't help but chuckles.

"Okay, you're cute i forgive you". You can only smile, their interactions is too cute to be interrupted. He's literally jealous because of a fur ball of cuteness.

You got a bit carried away with your work report after your shower. It was a last minute task given by your boss and you had to email it right away so you haven't been out of your room since an hour ago. After everything is done, you turned off your laptop and realised that it was so quiet outside; you can only hear the faint sound from the tv.

Stepping slowly to the living room, you found Waka on the couch with your cat on his chest; both asleep looking so peaceful. You kneel down in front of the couch, it is now your turn having your chin resting on it just to watch them sleep. You just wish this moment can last forever.

I've been contemplating to post this for quite sometimes

#tokyo revengers fic #tokyo revengers wakasa #wakasa imaushi #tokrev wakasa #wakasa x reader #wakasa x you

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miamierre · 10 months

Note

dearest phoebe hourcat. if you would be so kind, will you tell us about the first time pierre meets charles’ family in the chassis verse? mwah!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Maybe Charles needs to check his personal email more often.

In his defense, of course, winter break from both teaching gigs falls in perfect alignment, which means the first day Charles is free of teaching responsibilities, he’s bundled up and out the door to spend the afternoon at Jersey Motor. Pierre doesn’t exactly get the same time off, but he’s his own boss, which means—

Well. Which means Charles is his bed companion every single afternoon, whether they’re huddled in front of his old flatscreen sharing the world’s oldest Snuggie or tangled in sheets to keep warm the old-fashioned way. It’s really shaping up to be the winter of his dreams. Charles is in love and he could care less about the rest of the world around them.

At least, not until the rest of the world comes knocking at his apartment door the day before New Year’s Eve. Charles groans, knocking his head back against the pillow of Pierre’s arm where they’re curled up together in bed. “I paid my rent early,” he grumbles, “I can’t imagine what my landlord wants from me.”

Pierre chuckles. “Cherie,” he hums, leaning over to press a formless kiss to the base of Charles’ neck, “maybe you should see what she wants then, mmm?” He grins into Charles’ flush skin. “I’m not going anywhere. I told you I would keep you in bed until the New Year, and I intend to keep my promise.”

Charles blushes deeper. “Yeah,” he concedes after a long beat. Pierre’s mouth is still curved deliciously against his neck—it takes all of his self-control to roll out of bed and pull on the discarded pair of sweatpants that’d been tossed haphazardly in their race to the mattress. “Fine. Don’t move.”

Pierre lifts a hand, jostling the sheets so that the vee of his crotch is once again exposed to the room. Charles swallows. “I will be your statue, ma belle,” he purrs. Fuck. He’s far too smooth for his own good. With a forced breath, Charles shuffles out of his bedroom and over to the front hallway. Be quick, he reminds himself. The thought of Pierre laid up like a bronze masterpiece for him has his tongue dry and heavy in his mouth.

He reaches the door, not even bothering to remove the chain lock, and opens it enough to peek his face through. “How can I help you, Ma—maman?!”

There, standing in the hallway in front of his door, is his mother, flanked by both of his brothers. All of them look ridiculous in their bundled-up attire, although Charles hasn’t exactly been out in the world in the last few hours. “Charlie!” Pascale exclaims, arm shooting up in delight. She’s dragging a large enough suitcase behind her, which…

Charles slams the door shut. Oh my god.

“Don’t tell me you’re surprised, Cha,” Arthur’s voice seems to cut right through the thick wood between them. “Did you really not check your email?” Oh.

“Or your phone?!” Lorenzo chimes in. And…Charles glances towards where his phone is sitting facedown in the living room, completely forgotten about in the haze of Pierre’s arrival. Oops.

Of course, as if there’s not enough commotion rattling around in Charles’ brain, Pierre calls to him from the bedroom. “Bebe, was it Margo? What did she want?” At the sound of Pierre’s voice, at least, Charles springs into action: he scrambles from where he’d pinned himself to the door and almost trips back into their space, grabbing a shirt draped on the laundry basket. “Charlie?”

“Pierrot,” Charles hisses, wrestling with the t-shirt to get it over his head, “my mother is here.”

Pierre blinks at him slowly. “Your mother is here.” He sounds confused. “Charles, doesn’t your mother live—”

“In Monaco, with my brothers, who are also here, yes!”

Pierre is still blinking, although at least Charles can see the realization dawning on his boyfriend’s face. “Your mother is here.” His eyes light up, which—is sweet, Charles can’t lie—but that light quickly goes out when he glances down and realizes the less-than-presentable nature of their room right now. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yes, Pierre, fuck is right!” He claps a hand to his face. “I left them in the hall—”

“You left them in the hall?”

“—my love, I need you to put on clothes right now, and—and, shit, can we change the sheets? Is that too much? Yes, no, it is, nevermind, I—I’m going to close the door, please just don’t look like we were just having sex before they got here.”

Pierre smirks at him, somehow amused even though Charles is about to have the most humiliating afternoon of his life right now. “We were just having sex before they got here, though.” Charles levels a glare at him. Pierre lifts his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! Okay, cherie, I will get presentable for your mother and brothers, don’t worry.” He smiles softly. “It’s okay, mon ange. I’ll be good, I promise.”

Charles releases the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Pierre’s expression is gentle: concerned, sure, but also steady in a way that Charles knows he can trust. It’s Pierre. Shameless as he may be most of the time, he can be good when he needs to be. Charles has witnessed it firsthand watching him waive fees for the less fortunate neighbors in need of repairs.

“Okay,” he murmurs. “I’m—” he shakes his head. “I love you.”

Pierre’s smile gets wider, sweeter at the words. “I love you too.” He blows a kiss across the room and winks. “Now go bring your family inside, the hallway here is far too small for so many Monegasques to gather!”

Charles rolls his eyes, but does as he says: he clicks the door shut quietly, then sprints back to the door, where he undoes his chain lock and swings the door open. “Sorry guys, I have just been busy with work stuff!” He opens his arms and his mother crashes into him first, apparently unbothered that she’d just had the door shut in her face moments before.

“My baby,” she coos, squeezing him tight enough to make him yelp before pulling back to look at him. “You look tired, Charles. Are you getting enough sleep?”

Charles just laughs, nods. “I’m getting as much sleep as I’m allowed,” he answers, and then turns to his oldest brother, who’s still side-eyeing him. “Hi, Lolo.”

The nickname seems to wipe the lingering disbelief off his face. “Charlot,” he mumbles, and then grabs Charles for another crushing hug. “You really haven’t changed a bit, even with your flashy professorship, have you.”

Charles laughs into his shoulder. “Not one bit,” he confirms, and the rumble of laughter between them eases the lingering jitter of his nerves. When he turns to Arthur, he’s almost completely forgotten why he’d slammed the door on them in the first place. “Speedy,” he says warmly, and Arthur rolls his eyes and whacks him in the shoulder before hugging him fiercely, too.

“Monaco isn’t the same without you there to make a mess of everything,” he mumbles, and Charles laughs again. He imagines it’s not far from the truth: he’s taken his talents of disaster and chaos across an ocean, to arguably the most chaotic state in the entire United States of America. It’s fitting, in a way.

When he extracts himself from his brother’s embrace, he takes the sight of the three of them in and is struck with how perfect it will be, ringing in the new year with all the people he loves in his apartment.

His apartment. Which he still hasn’t invited them in to yet, and more dangerously, still hasn’t cleaned seriously in quite some time. He knows there are books everywhere. (He doesn’t know where…other things are. Pierre’s bent him over so many surfaces in here over the last week and a half, he can’t even remember it all. Jesus.) “Um—come in! Come in, maman, here let me take your bag—” Pascale passes him the handle easily and steps right through the doorway, Lorenzo and Arthur following suit.

“What a sweet place!” She exclaims, at the same time Arthur’s voice flatly declares “This looks pretty mediocre for a University professor.” Lorenzo just snorts. Charles rolls his eyes.

“Thank you, mama, and fuck off, Arthur.” He gets a middle finger in return, followed by the scoffing of his mother, and it reminds him of home so vividly that his chest bursts with nostalgia of the holidays of old: their fireplace burning through the night, falling asleep on his father’s lap listening to old Christmas stories, their too-large Christmas tree catching every light in the house and looking magic.

The holidays of old are long since passed, but wisps of those memories exist in the people standing before him, ogling new home with big smiles and wind-chilled faces.

And then his bedroom door opens. Charles watches everyone’s heads snap up at the sound, and he himself feels his heart lodge in his throat at the thought of what comes next. Traditions of old mingle with ones of new. Even though he trusts his boyfriend implicitly and knows he’s not going to come out dick first, the jitters return all at once. He’s mentioned Pierre in passing, sure, but it’s been—he hasn’t exactly elaborated on all the details—

Pierre emerges from the depths of the hallway, decked out in the godawful Old Navy holiday pajama set Charles had bought him as a gag, and smiles that charming, impossible-to-resist Pierre smile. Charles exhales. “Hi everyone,” he says, waving a little.

Arthur’s head snaps back to Charles, eyes narrowing. “Work stuff,” he repeats softly, and Charles can’t fight the embarrassed color that floods his face. Yeah.

Pascale couldn’t be bothered to look at any of her sons, though. “You are Pierre, yes?” She’s got her back to Charles but he can hear the smile in her voice. The blush just keeps getting deeper. Pierre nods. “Pierre! It is so beautiful to meet you—” she throws her arms around his shoulders and tugs him into an enormous hug, clearly catching him by surprise. Charles squeaks. “My son likes to keep his secrets, but I know a man in love when I see one.” She pinches his cheek. Pierre laughs; his eyes flicker over to where Charles is standing, then back to his mother.

“I’m so happy to meet you, too,” he murmurs. Pascale releases him after keeping him wrangled for another long moment, which gives him the opportunity to step into the living room properly. He gets to Lorenzo first. “Hey, I’m Pierre. Charles’—uh, Charles’—”

“Boyfriend,” Charles finishes, remembering all of a sudden that he should probably be the one making the introductions. He all but skips across the room to hook his arm through Pierre’s, then turns towards Arthur and gestures him over. Pierre shakes his hand, too. “Lorenzo, Arthur, this is my boyfriend, Pierre. Pierre, these are my brothers.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you both,” Pierre murmurs. “I’ve heard plenty of stories, so it’s great to have faces to put with the names.”

Arthur grins. “All good, I hope?” Lorenzo snorts at the idea. Pascale is…looking particularly over the moon, which Charles knows he’s going to have to deal with the moment he gets her alone.

But that’s for the future. “Only the bad ones,” he deadpans back. Arthur giggles. “No, shut up, shut up. Let’s—take your jackets off, come warm up in the kitchen. You can fill Pierre in on the good ones later.” He shepherds his family through the hallway and into the excuse of a kitchen he’s got before Pierre catches his arm. “Mmm?”

“I like them,” Pierre murmurs in his ear, nuzzling at him tenderly. “Especially your mother—she reminds me of my mom, which I know she’ll love.”

Charles laughs softly. Of course Pascale will love that. “We’ll have to figure out how to talk about them, you know. Pascale and Pascale.” He wrinkles his nose. Pierre nips his ear in lieu of an answer, and Charles yelps. “Hey! I’m just saying.”

“I know,” he hums. “Your ears are so pink, though, bebe, I can’t help myself.” Pierre leans in again and Charles squeaks once more, shoving gently at his boyfriend despite the locked-firm embrace they’re now in. “C’mon.”

“I thought you said you were going to be good for me,” Charles sighs in mock-defeat. Pierre…stiffens.

Oh.

“Please tell me they’re staying at a hotel,” his boyfriend whispers, face looking noticeably pinker than it had moments before. “I do like your family, Charlie, but I…” he trails off, choosing instead to look Charles up and down several suggestive times.

“Hey, loverboy!” Arthur shouts, and both Pierre and Charles whip around to the sound. “What’s your wifi password?”

Oh my god. It’s going to be a long rest of the year.

#bel we should kiss. thank you for giving me the opportunity to CONTINUE to be crazy i love u #in my deleted scenes era!#piarles #10 x 16 #fic #the mechanic au #ask reply #boscpierres #FREE BEL FRANCOPHONES BTW

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silverynight · 1 year

Text

Comfort omega

<---Previous

Chapter 11

It hurts. He misses Katsuki and it hurts.

But Izuku has caused him too much problems already so maybe that's for the best. He doesn't even want to think about what the blond alpha told him because it makes his heart beat faster and his inner omega purr.

Love. Katsuki said he's in love with him... Is... How does he feel about that?

Izuku shakes his head, realizing he's feeling cold. He misses Katsuki's hoodie, but he misses him the most and it's not even been a week since he said goodbye to him.

The omega goes to work as usual, Aoyama tries to get him to talk about what's making him feel sad, but Izuku is not ready to say it out loud.

It must've been enough time for Katsuki to reconsider, to realize that it's not actually love what he feels for Izuku.

But he sounded so sincere...

***

The next day he gets an email while he's the break room with Aoyama.

"Hatsume wants to see me!" He can't help but blurt out excitedly. "Tomorrow! I have to get ready... I'm going to ask for a day off... And my designs–"

"Take a deep breath first, mon ami," Aoyama chuckles, placing a gentle but firm hand on the other omega's shoulder. "It'll be okay."

"How do you know? This is probably the only chance I'll have to get the job and I don't want to screw it up!"

"You won't."

"How are you so sure?" Izuku asks again, trying not to panic. He has the sudden urge to call Katsuki and tell him about it, but that won't be fair. The alpha told him to look for him when he was sure about his feelings... But what if he doesn't want to see him now?

The omega shakes his head. Now it's not the time to think about that.

"Because your designs are THAT good. She'd be an idiot not to hire you on the spot."

"You only said that because you're–"

"No," Aoyama cuts him off, staring at him in the eyes; there's no doubt in his expression. "I'm saying it because you're freaking great. You'll get the job."

Izuku feels his lips curl up into a smile, before he leans to pull the other omega into his arms.

"Thanks, you're a great friend."

"I know."

Then, he starts to notice that his heart doesn't exactly behave the same way when he's with Aoyama than when he's with Katsuki.

He feels the blush spread from his cheeks to his neck, but he tries to ignore it.

"Thinking about your explosive alpha, huh?"

Probably giving Aoyama the response he needs, Izuku's face turns even more red at that.

"You should talk to him, mon ami."

"I don't think he wants to see me at the moment... I told him... He wasn't that happy about certain things I told him."

"Then apologize. Tell him how you truly feel."

How does he truly feel? He doesn't want to ruin everything again.

"I want to see him, but what if he doesn't want to talk to me anymore?" Izuku doesn't want to cry again, but it hurts whenever he remembers the last time he saw Katsuki.

"I don't think that's the case."

"You can't be su–"

"He asks me about you every single day," the other omega cuts him off, sighing. "He wants to know how you're doing, if you're safe, if you're happy... Honestly, that alpha is ridiculous... But you are ridiculous too, mon ami."

Izuku's heart starts beating happily inside his chest. He wants to ask his friend for details, but he knows he shouldn't.

It's not fair.

He needs to try again.

"I'm going to talk to him after my interview," he mumbles, even though he's really nervous about it.

"That's the spirit! Good luck, mon ami!"

Izuku is not sure if Aoyama is wishing him luck for the job interview or his conversation with Katsuki...

Probably both.

***

He decides to print some of his work, but most of it is on his tablet so he also takes it with him.

The beta at the front desk is very nice to him and is constantly offering him snacks and water while Izuku waits.

"Good luck!" She says, grinning at him. "I really hope you stay with us so I can see you everyday."

"Thanks," the omega smiles back. People here seem to be really friendly, it helps him feel a little bit more relaxed.

"Stop flirting with him, Kana," a young man with an iPad walks into reception and rolls his eyes at the receptionist before telling Izuku to follow him.

"Don't worry about the smoke," the alpha tells him, making a dismissive gesture when Izuku notices the smoke coming from the end of the hallway.

By the time they walk in the smoke is gone, but Hatsume is still hunching over a large piece of broken gear that looks like–

"Is that for pro hero Ingenium's suit?" Izuku asks excitedly because he can't stop himself.

"You do know your stuff!" Hatsume says, nodding approvingly before taking her goggles off and staring at the green haired omega. "Great! Grab a couple of tools and help me with this!"

"But–"

"Come on, don't be shy!"

Leaving his stuff on a desk, Izuku approaches Hatsume, feeling nervous already. To calm himself down (and ignoring the part of himself that's scolding him for it) he thinks about Katsuki.

This is not the time to feel insecure about his own abilities. This is what he really wants to do for a living after all.

It turns out to be easier than he thought, mostly because Hatsume is there next to him, telling him everything about the type of modifications she's working on.

However, she's very interested when Izuku makes suggestions, especially when it comes to help increase the pro hero's speed.

The omega ends up looking like a mess; his shirt is covered in grease and he's pretty sure he has dirt on his cheeks but it's okay, he's excited about getting the opportunity to work on a hero suit.

"Nice," Hatsume says approvingly, looking down at the gear. "I think it's done now. I'll probably work on the other one tomorrow. Thanks for the help..."

"Midoriya Izuku," the omega mumbles nervously, making her grin.

"Hatsume Mei, it's a pleasure! Now let's grab a chair so you can show me your designs."

Shyly, Izuku hands her the couple he printed and after giving them a glance, she grins from ear to ear.

"These are great. Show me more."

So Hatsume ends up with Izuku's tablet on her lap, happily scrolling through his gallery and making a few comments about each of them. She interprets the omega's drawings with an accuracy that has Izuku really impressed.

"Oh. This is for Dynamight's suit, right?"

Izuku nods as his cheeks turn slightly pink. He's really proud of that design, but for some reason seems a little bit personal to him (even though it shouldn't be) so he decided not to print it.

"He'll love it," Hatsume says, looking really sure about it. "No wonder he said all those things about you."

"What? What did he say?" Izuku asks, curious and nervous at the same time.

"He told me a lot of things about you, but basically... He was the one who let me know you were interested in this job (I didn't know you had applied before, my receptionist and assistant are the ones in charge of the job applications) and he also said that I'd be an idiot not to hire you–"

"Oh my God!" Izuku blurts out, covering his face with both hands, blushing bright red. He really loves Katsuki but he can be really rude to people sometimes...

Wait... He really loves Katsuki? Where did that thought come from?

"Relax," Hatsume chuckles. "It's not the first time I've dealt with him. I don't mind... Well, after that he proceeded to tell me in detail why you were perfect for this job and he was right."

"Wait... Does that mean..."

"You can start tomorrow."

Izuku's lips quirk up into a huge grin, his heart is beating excitedly inside his chest and a tiny part of him thinks that this could be just a dream.

"Thank you!"

He can't wait to tell Katsuki... Although, it'd probably be better to talk to him about other things first...

He just hopes the alpha still wants to see him after everything that happened.

***

The omega readjusts his backpack as soon as he's outside the building. With a soft smile on his face he heads back to his apartment, but then he hears a couple of people screaming nearby.

When he turns around he notices that a few of them have started running and looking at the sky.

Izuku doesn't actually have the time to do anything because someone grabs him by the waist and lifts him up.

"I'm really sorry, pretty omega," the woman who's carrying him in her arms smirks. She has two pairs of wings that look like they're made of metal. "But I need a distraction so that stupid pro hero stops following me."

They're getting really high up on the sky and it's really too late now to try to fight her. That would only get him killed.

"Here he comes," she laughs in a way that makes Izuku shiver. "Make sure to scream really loud, omega."

She's going to drop him.

"What? Wait..."

"Izuku?" Katsuki is already approaching them, using his quirk to catch up with her. The determination on his face turns into panic when he recognizes him.

"He knows you? Lucky me..." She grins, before letting go of Izuku.

He's too scared to actually hear the way Katsuki screams his name.

And he falls...

***

Next--->

Patreon

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #bkdk #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #omegaverse

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sketchfanda · 4 months

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Kirishima’s Mystique: Panther Power

Somedays Kirishima wondered what sort of a past life did he live to be finding himself in situations like this. Now what's the context you might ask? Well look no further than the fact he was looking up at a massive panther woman standing outside his apartment door. A 7 to 12 foot plus statuesque stunner who was a full on sensual tower of power, her onyx ebony black fur highlighting muscles of such magnitude that she had to have been carved and sculpted right out of a mountain.

Her bright green cat eyes looking at him eagerly which left our sturdy hero nervously wondering if this is how canaries felt. Seeing those ears flutter and that tail wag as he took out his cellphone, seeing picture of what he'd been expecting his client to look like. A thicc and more than easy on the eyes exotic tomboy of a woman before looking back at the panther woman mountain who'd greeted him. This was definitely the address and he'd been told the matter he was here for was in regards to her quirk. Red eyes locked on the feline amazon as he finally found his voice.

Kirishima:"You uuh wouldn't happen to be Ms. Ellie would you?" *hoping he didn't sound too dumbfounded...and really hoping he wasn't pitching a tent. Women of many body shapes and sizes really turned him on, be they sexy shortstacks of statuesque stunners. Not to mention Ellie wasn't his first or the last furry sort of woman in his life, let alone feline. But I digress...*”You’re really different in your picture…”

Ellie:*her jade green eyes twinkling snd her ears fluttering as she gave a playful giggle. The fact her onyx furred muscular self was displayed thanks to her casual ensemble of a white thing and tube top didn’t help matters as she fished out and showed the same picture she’d emailed to the Fatgum Agency (see below).*”Oh You mean this? Yeah how and why I’m in my quirk form is the reason for that but that’s me alright and you must be the intern, come on in..” *The Panther woman playfully advised as she confirmed his query and brought him into her apartment. A sensual purr rumbling through her as she copped herself a stealth feel of Kirishima’s muscles and definitely liked what she was saw and felt that’s for damn sure.*

Ellie, American born Japanese Citizen, day job : salary woman, part time pro hero. Quirk: Kitty Hulk!! A transformstion quirk that can be activated at will, increasing her stamina, size, speed and strength with the natural abilities of a jungle cat on top of newfound muscle mass all in a feline package. This has seen rise up high within most rankings notto oe mention give her a sizeable fanbase. There is one particular aspect to this quirk of course that she has no control over…

Kirishima soon found himself in the living room of her apartment, usually a cozy and well furnished part of it, much moving around had been done to setup a sort of make-shift workout area. All manner of heavy dumbells, weight sets and training devices placed around as the sturdy himbo approved being a fitness enthusiast himself with a dedicated workout program routine all his own. Turning around to speak to the panther woman before he suddenly found his eyes bugging out and his jaw dropping and with good reason. The onxy furred feline stunner was stripping right then and there, her statuesque Amazon in form on full display in the nude as she stretched and flexed with the natural limber flexibility a cat possessed.

It made it impossible for chivalrous stud to look away and how could he when you had a giant panther woman suddenly warming up naked with a juicy bubbly furry booty and tits as big as her head? Among her other notable exotic physical qualities of course as those emerald jade green eyes looked at him with a gleaming twinkle of mischief. No doubt taking a little amusement at his awkwardness and picking up scents of the state of arousal she was causing within him from the moment he laid eyes on her at the door. Keeping his attention as she strutted with such feline grace that belied the size and thickness of her physique as she picked up a pair of dumbbells and began pumping iron.

Ellie:*a sensual blush and smile on her face as she performed her bicep curls, her reps making her muscles pump and flex in ways that called for him to touch them. Her slit gushing as it ran down along her thick fury thighs as they trailed down to start making a puddle on the floor, as if this sudden nude workout was akin to a wild female animal courting the attention of a virile male in mating season.* “See every once a while my body transforms against my will when my heat cycle kicks in, so I can’t change back until I’ve burnt off all my energy. So I need a nice, rough and hard fuck and you really came highly recommended. So what do you say handsome? Help a girl scratch her itch?”*The panther woman spoke ina sensual husky tone, licking her lips as her onyx furred Amazon form radiated erotic energy. Tail swaying sensually as she relished the feel of Kirishima’s eyes on her as his brain was no doubt flipping a few certain switches.*

Kirishima:*Now of course leave it to our Red Riot to be a bit on the speechless side and really who could blame him? After all a seven foot plus naked panther woman outright told him that she wanted him to fuck her. But of course it wasn't long before his libido kicked in and hijacked his brain to take control and let his instincts guide him, a determined expression forming on his face*"Ma'am yes ma'am!!"* Said with the convinction of a disciplined solider as he went forward towards the feline powerhouse as he knelt down, wrapping his arms around her powerful waist as he pressed his face to her slit.*

Ellie grinned as she found her hero for hire wasting no time in obliging her request to sate her heat induced lust, before she threw her back to let out a deep-throated purring moan. Sensual pleasure surging through her furred muscular work of art of a body as she felt him start eat her out, making out with her netherlips as his tongue probed away deep into her folds. His firm hands grasping and squeezing her meaty, bubbly asscheeks with massaging motions like he was kneading bread dough which really her spine tingle. All the while she continued her bicep curls as she pumped iron, making her tits bounce with a flex of her pecs as she looked forward to seeing how else the young intern might go about bringing her pleasure.

But of course it wasn't all take and no give on her part as she soon soon made her workout was part of her need to scratch her itch thanks to her favourite personal program recommended by the Pinnacle of Physique. A delightful little system they called Sexercise which Kirishima was more than intimately acquainted with of course, as the pair were soon both naked and pulling off quite a feat. A standing 69 as the spikey shark-teethed red-head held her upside down, her thick thighs squeezing as they wrapped around his head while he ate her out. While she herself was performing a deepthroating, powersuck blowjob, practically fucking her own face as she licked and sucked on his length and girth.

She couldn't help herself soon as Eijiro had gotten naked himself, the moment she laid eyes on that raging hard cock of his, she just knew she needed it bad. Her purring providing massaging vibrations to his shaft as her cat togue gave the most surreal sense of friction on that twitching, pulsing meat of his. The only drive besides the need to taste his seed being the primal urge to have him take this womb hammer and fuck her with the intent to breed. Going into heat seriously did a number on her rationality when it came to her libido but she wasn't the first animalistic heteromorph or the last to have that particular issue of course.

But I digress of course, as the sturdy himbo continued to lap away at Ellie’s oussy, drinking up the steady flow of her nectar. Hips pumping and thrusting into her eager mouth as she welcomed the delightful oral preview of what kind of action her pussy would be getting, her tail wagging sensually with delight as her more primitive portions of her brain came to recognise this stud as a more than capable and worthy alpha male. His heavy balls being massaged In her paw padded hands as she purred feeling the healthy load of baby batter contained within. Her womb practically pulsing with the need to have it flooded and filled with buns to cook in its warm oven.

A need that was soon being tended to as Ellie’s living room was now filled with the rhythm and music of the ancient dance between man and woman. The walls and ceiling filled with her yowling cries of sexual ecstasy and bliss mixed with the slapping of Herculean skin on furry Amazon skin as as the kitty hulk laid in the floor taking it like an erotic champion. Tits bouncing and clapping as her oh so obliging hero pumped and thrust away, hips nearly blurring as he flexed his muscles, massaging Ellie’s splendid furry washboard abs. Her claws gripping the floor as her stomach swelled from the distinct of pump of his jackhammering length and girth as he fucked her in missionary, before she found him hooking her powerful legs over his shoulders as he shifted a spread eagle to deepen he reach of his penetration.

Oh how she loved it, every single second of each inch of his shaft pounding away into the warm, wet embrace of her pussy, as his balls smacked and slapped her ass. Tongue dancing with his in a sloppy kiss as her Herculean fuck machine pinned her down in a mating press, asserting his dominance like the alpha male she just knew he would be. Her arousal only skyrocketing as she found herself hoisted up in a full nelson position that had her facing him, her tits pressed and rubbing up against his firm, strong chest as they made with a thirsty desire. Orgasms rocking her ebony furred frame as her Red Root alpha male carried her to her bedroom wherein they proceeded to really lay into each other with pornographic abandon.

Whether it was up against the walls or the window or just proceeding to utterly demolish the bed, they were relentless. The kitty hulk powerhouse getting more orgasms than could be counted in contrast with the few but splendid moments when he had his own, displaying his stamina and willpower, to say nothing of how long he was lasting before he applied his 1% boost trick from his quirk. And he damn well wasn’t shy about displaying his admiration for her body, her physique a muscular work of art enhanced by the animal magnetism, literally and figuratively enhanced by her quirks particularly natural charisma. His firm hands caressing and massaging her fur and muscles as if feeling the texture of a classical sculpture.

it only made the experience of their “workout” all the more a thrilling sensation, whether it was riding him cowgirl style, or grasping and biting the bedsheets with her fangs and claws as he took her doggy or rather kitty style. Hearts flowing in her Jade feline eyes especially when her womb received a flood of that white hot cream of his, her brain running wild with fantasies of having a belly full of kittens to bare for this erotic Adonis. Seconds into minutes which passed into hours as the time passed away into their sexual marathon, only pausing to recover and bask in the afterglow as they made out and engaged in some intimate heavy petting. Soon as they were ready to go again, it was with a primal abandon as they mated in ways that would make Mother Nature blush.

Even long after the sun had set and Ellie had returned to her human form, she and Kirishima were still going at it. The thicc dark skinned hottie bouncing on that juice soaked fuckrod as she and her alpha male came tougher in one sweet, simultaneous climax, collapsing on what remained of her bed in a tangle of limbs, still connected by their loins as the afterglow took them to the sweet embrace of sleep. Kirishima feeling an achievement of satisfaction at a job well done while Ellie had sweet, hot and spicy dreams of her alpha male, as the two parted ways in the morning. That is after a nice little quickie in the shower of course and exchanging contact details as the kitty hulk didn’t definitely want this to be a one off, one time deal.

Kirishima of course continued on about his heroics business of course, as well as knowing he would have quite the details to share with Mina and and Maya later on. Ellie of course would send a very high praise filled review to the Fatgum agency for sending her such a skilled and dedicated intern…..as well as private exchange of messages to Kirishima’s aforementioned pair of girlfriends for their personal recommendation of their man and his sexual prowess. Letting them know he more than exceeded expectations and that she was looking forward to their next encounter in the near future Especislly when her next heat cycle happened. As well as reassure them that she woild send them copies of the hidden videos she had of her little sexercise session with their man, after all a was a deal and those two just LOVED to see their man be the stud he can be, how sweet it is……

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pepprs · 1 year

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i didn’t quit my counselor bc i was so busy w the retreat and now im seeing him in 9 minutes ermmmmm

#purrs #i thought abt doing it on friday but i was busy and also i felt bad bc i didn’t want to just drop it on him w/o time for him to get support #from his supervisor and profs in dealing w it lol. so yeah yet again i remained in an uncomfortable situation in order to make someone else #comfortable and put (WHAT I PRESUME TO BE) their needs above my own. but im emailing him tomorrow to do it. or thursday. it’s more money Dow #down the drain which sucks but i did it to myself. i don’t want to hope that tonight is bad bc i was in a horrible place after we last #talked but i hope that tonight reaffirms that i need to leave and im gonna go thru it and schedule send the email for 7:19am on thursday so #as not to be suspicious. lol. dear god help me here we go #delete later

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seriouslysam8 · 1 year

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Fan/Reviwer Appreciation Post: Mention one or more fan(s)/reviewer(s) who brighten your day. We all know that all reviewers are special, but I'm talking about the ones who make you grin, giggle, and get thrilled when you read their review because it's so comprehensive, and you look forward to it every time. It simply motivates you to keep writing because they appreciate it so much.

Gosh, I am so lucky because I have some fantastic readers who review every single chapter. Even if it’s just a “nice” or a “great chapter” or whatever. I love those reviewers so much because I get it. I’m a shit reviewer too. I never know what to say but I always leave a little something so you know I’m there and loving it.

I have to shout out @bellmel because, while you don’t get to see her reviews, she sends me some great reviews in her edit email. She adds little emojis to the document which I love and she highlights parts she loves.

Another shout out to @funbunnypotter26 because she legit gives me live commentary of her reactions on discord. I cannot tell you how much she makes me laugh because I will anxiously await certain parts for her to get to. Then she spoils me by also giving short reviews that you all can see.

The MVP award has to go to @ravenclawrockchick because, uhh, have you seen her novel of a review she sends me each and every chapter?!? One day AO3 is going to come at her and say she left too many comments on a single story and kick her out. She makes me laugh. Special mention to Cookie the cat because she legit reads her stories to her cat. She purrs when Sirius’s POV happens so, you know, she’s my favorite cat for that.

Special shout outs to @corneliaavenue-ao3 (you always make me smile and laugh at your reviews), @curse-04 (your attention to detail is fantastic!), @myrtle_warren (I don’t know why it won’t let me tag you but I know you’re here, your reviews always being a smile on my face), @enigmaticemperor (your reviews always seem to inspire me), @prewettpotter (you always make me smile with your reviews), @anagpotter (you’ve been around since day one and I just adore you), @hinny17 (you are so kind), @gryffindorhealer (for always being around to answer my medical questions and being so kind), and so many more!!

I know I’m missing more! I went to the last chapter to browse through the reviews and I know there are people missing who normally review as well. There’s so many of you that are just amazing and I’m not sure if you all of you have tumblrs that I missed because there were definitely more shout outs.

Thank you all!!

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holly-fixation · 1 year

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Another Thing to Hide

Summary: When the public notices a reaction from Sephiroth only around Genesis of all people, Shinra has to deal with the public nightmare from the one piece of the Silver Soldier they couldn’t control. Because he couldn’t control it either. He didn’t even know it was happening. Could Sephiroth really…purr?

Inspired by this ask to @altocat

Please enjoy!

…

Oh gods. What was it now? His last appointment was three days ago. There was absolutely no way they needed new samples or tests or a new examination. What they needed was to leave him alone. He didn’t care about the ‘urgent’ emails clogging his inbox. He had way too much work to get done on his desk to worry about this.

Nothing in this god awful science department was ‘urgent’ enough for this.

He was barely in the examination room for ten seconds before the slimy scientist slithered his way in, clipboard in hand and black glasses blocking his eyes as always.

“What do you need of me now, Hojo?” He did not waste a single moment. “This better be quick.”

Good. The scientist wasn’t looking to waste any time. “I need you to purr.”

He blinked at the asinine request. “...Have you lost your mind?”

“I think it’s a simple request. It’s just purring.”

“I am not an animal, Hojo. If you wish to mess with me, at least make it believable.”

“Believable?” He echoed.

“That is what I just said, yes.”

“Snippy today, aren’t you?”

The soldier ignored the comment and questioned again, “What is this urgent request?”

The scientist moved his clipboard to his side and scanned the soldier inquisitively, slowly raising his hand to his mouth in thought before clenching it in a soft fist once realization struck. “You truly have no idea what I’m talking about.”

The taller man scoffed, crossing of his arms. “Was I not clear enough? Did you call me in here just to mock me for my eyes?”

The look in his gaze hardened, and the soldier visibly straightened to gain the slightest shred of distance when a pen was pointed at him. “I have told you a thousand times your appearance is perfect, Sephiroth. You’re clearly spending too much time around the wrong people if you even think otherwise.”

The soldier went quiet, his body tensing ever so slightly by instinct.

“Now follow me.” With a single wave of his hand, he gestured to the door he came through, and both of them walked down the hall to a desk.

Sephiroth watched silently, trying to discover what the scientist was looking for through the various seemingly disorganized folders on the multiple monitors.

The scientist adjusted a speaker before finally clicking on a video.

On the screen was an old tape of some interviewer that caught him and his red haired friend in the city on their way back to HeadQuarters. But what did this have to do with today? It was so long ago, his hair was half of its current length.

“Sephiroth! Genesis Rhapsodos! A word please!”

Though Sephiroth was clearly annoyed, his glare instantly sharpened to perhaps draw blood from the annoying reporter, Genesis lit up and pulled him along. It was the first time someone recognized the Crimson Soldier, and Genesis was ecstatic.

The interviewer asked them both a few questions, but Genesis took the lead by answering almost all of them, occasionally giving him a playful nudge. Sephiroth truly had no idea what was going on. “What does this prove?”

“Listen,” Hojo insisted.

There seemed to be a deep rumbling beneath the talking, perhaps a car that happened to be idling too close. But Hojo said something about…

…purring?

The scientist closed the video and opened the next one. And the next. And the next. And each one was cursed with the same rumbling, soft and deep but ever present. Each video showed years of broadcasted appearances with him and Genesis together, sometimes with Angeal as well but never just him and Angeal. The final video was posted only a few days before, but that false white noise still persisted.

That’s impossible. His ‘inhuman’ strength and speed were trained into him for years. The only abnormal things about him were his hair and his eyes, but… he never produced such animalistic sounds.

Worst of all, he had no idea he made them in the first place.

“Public Relations is currently working on a fluff piece to deter any assumptions about your character.” The black glasses reflected the light back at him. “But you need to get a hold of this. And if you can’t, I’ll take control.”

Sephiroth stared at the open monitor, at the frozen image of him and his closest friend. Instead of the smiles he saw and the warm memory they came with, his heart sunk. Had this truly been happening for so long? And neither Angeal nor Genesis mentioned it or joked about it once? How did this stay silent? How did he not know it?

He was terrified. His own body betrayed feelings he would never admit to himself or the public. He didn’t know it was happening, didn’t feel a single vibration in his throat. Or at least he assumed it was his throat. He couldn’t control this. He couldn’t control this. And after so much silent deliberation, his traitorous mouth opened to a soft whisper, “...what would you do…?”

“Well,” Hojo was far too prepared for that question, “If the vocalizations are coming from around your chest, we can update your uniform and pretend the added armor is purely aesthetic. Possibly a chestplate. But if it’s coming from your throat, which is much more likely-”

His head slowly fell, his bangs blocking his eyes as he stared at the floor.

“I believe a simple collar should be enough to dampen the noise. Placement and thickness are critical, of course. And then there’s the issue of design, matching the uniform, making sure it represents the company in a positive light, dealing with the marketing department, manipulating public opinion- ”

“Do it…” His voice was broken, his shoulders low and his body dropping in defeat. Hojo needed confirmation before moving forward, and Sephiroth didn’t give him the chance to ask. “Make the collar… do it…”

Well, Hojo absolutely wasn’t passing up this golden opportunity with his son being so compliant.

* * *

Sephiroth obeyed every order, sitting like a statue for measurements of his torso and neck, his coat and armor somewhere on the floor to allow perfect access. He hated it. He hated it all. He understood exactly what a collar would symbolize. He prayed that whatever rattled inside him only forced him into more armor, not kept him inches away from a leash.

But he still couldn’t purr on command, which meant not only could they not find the epicenter of this uncontrollable call, but they couldn’t test their products without stimuli. They needed something that worked, but no pill or injection triggered the reaction. Only one outside force guaranteed the sounds.

They needed Genesis.

Sephiroth wanted to hide in a hole, but that didn’t stop him from sending his friend a message to come to the lab. He wanted this over with. It certainly didn’t stop Hojo from inviting the Crimson Soldier as little more than a resource required for his tests.

With such a silent cry for help unseen to Sephiroth, his friend rushed into the room in minutes.

The look on Genesis’ face only pulled the ache in his friend’s chest higher.

The sight before him was so rotten the redhead struggled not to attack the scientist nearby.

Sephiroth couldn’t even meet his gaze, sheer embarrassment clogging his heart. But at a soft touch on his arm, his inhuman eyes lifted to the other mako blues.

“What did they do to you? Are you alright, Sephiroth?” Genuine care bled through his words, infecting the tense breath of his friend like a virus, yet with a calm he couldn’t describe.

“I’m alright…” He answered slowly, weakly.

“What happened?”

Gods, why did he have to look at him like that? Like he could tell him anything? Like this was a safe place? Why couldn’t he keep his walls up around him? Why did that intense gaze make him feel warm and safe? Why did he-

Barely a few seconds. It was barely a few seconds since Genesis entered the room, and Sephiroth’s tainted purring began.

Genesis’ gaze even softened at the sound. He knew. He knew all along, but he said nothing because he knew what it meant… didn’t he?

Their moment of peace shattered when a cold stethoscope slid along his open chest.

The Crimson Soldier’s eyes burned as he stared daggers at the scientist currently moving the instrument up and down the bare skin, but Sephiroth stopped him, almost grabbing him.

“It’s just a test,” He explained quickly, deliberately avoiding why Genesis was necessary. “They just need data. I’ll be back on the SOLDIER floor soon.”

“Data for what, Sephiroth?” The concerned care twisted to a caring sternness, and with everything happening, the Silver Soldier just looked away like a disobedient child. “Data for what?”

Still, the rumble didn't stop. Sephiroth never got the chance to speak before Hojo retreated and scribbled on a clipboard. He found the source. Good.

“Just some control data. Nothing more,” Sephiroth lied. “It'll take a few hours. I'll talk to you soon…”

Hojo interrupted them, incessantly tapping his pen on the paper. “Yes. Get out of my lab. We have work to do. Your presence is no longer needed.”

Genesis almost growled, but the puppy-dog look in Sephiroth’s eyes convinced him to stand down. “See you soon, okay?”

“See you soon…” He repeated softly, and just like that, he was alone again, free to every touch and prod of the technicians around him.

However, this visit required no samples, no needles, no extensive physical examination. The worker bees of the lab simply spent their time making and testing the fabric that would stifle his neck to protect him from yet another thing in his life he could not control.

When Sephiroth eventually returned to his office on the SOLDIER floor, with a leather collar ordained with the SOLDIER logo, the only thing that stopped Genesis from burning every lab in this building to the ground was Sephiroth himself.

He was so, so sad, his cat-like eyes thin and ashamed, dark and sunken. Painful.

Genesis dropped the rage and immediately trapped his friend in a hug. He knew he’d never admit to needing one, but he knew this helped him, ever so slightly.

His arms were warm and safe.

Sephiroth tried to return the embrace, his hands shaking ever so slightly. He wanted Genesis to know he appreciated the gesture, but the single quirk that let him reveal his silent truth was now muffled by the band around his throat.

Thanks for reading!

Author’s Note: If you think this is bad, you should read ‘Another Part to Hurt’. Thank you again to @altocat for letting me steal her ideas!

#sephiroth purrs but it's SAD #this is ANGSTY #sephiroth #hojo #ff7 hojo #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 genesis #sephiroth ff7 #sephgen #ffvii sephiroth #catboi but sad

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