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gojosrealgf · 9 months ago

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i am on my hands and knees begging for a shred of keigo takami baby bird kfc angel content from you, if you write hawks i will finally know true peace

— MEET & GREET ; 1 / 2 ; HAWKS ; 啓悟

summary: you manage to snag two VIP meet & greet tickets for your nephew's birthday. he insists you join him. part one of two. pairing: keigo takami ; hawks / f!reader word count: 3.1k tags: humor, meet-cute, pro hero culture, birbs ignores all relevant timelines yet again, fluff, phone-flirting, hawks is great with kids, t+, relatable pre-hook up hesitation, they will fuck next time a/n: hawks is the chappell roan of the mha universe. stop touching him. this man actually changed my brain chemistry in early 2023 but we don't need to talk about that. anways, this poll was on the ropes all day and i made the executive choice to feed the hawks birblets.

You feel like your face has been set in a semi-permanent cringe all morning.

In your right hand, you're clutching your half-finished iced coffee for dear life. In your other, you're clinging to your nephew as he drags you through the convention center — one of the bright red wings of his beloved, homemade cosplay has started to go lopsided, and the six-year-old excitedly tugs it back in place as he tries to yank you forward.

"C'mon! We're gonna be late!"

This really wasn't your scene.

Fan conventions had a way of making your skin itch. The amount of sexy All Mights you've seen this morning alone has to be some sort of milestone indicator for the environment. Whether nature is healing or dying, though, you have no idea.

If you had it your way, you'd spend the rest of the day mingling through the artist stalls — but, to your nephew Hayami's point, the two of you had somewhere to be.

Your VIP meet-and-greet badge swings as you trip up and laugh. "Okay! Okay, slow down! You're about to yank my arm off!"

It was the best birthday gift imaginable for Hayami. You officially cemented your title as The Coolest Aunt Ever when you managed to snag the two VIP convention meet-and-greet tickets (complete with a professional photo and two signed copies of the convention's annual poster) after a harrowing seven hours in an online Ticketmaster line. There were only a hundred of them sold — and sure, you coulda thrown that pretty hunk of cash into a college fund for Hayami, but he was deeply in his hero phase.

Originally you expected that Hayami's father, your brother-in-law, would want to go.

But, no, Hayami himself insisted you come with him.

After all, you helped me with my costume, he begged, I wouldn't have been able to do it without you!

That you did. Many a hot glue gun burn was suffered at the hands of those damn red feathers. If you squint from far away, the cosplay isn't half bad considering the thrift and dollar-store materials. It wasn't one of those inch-to-inch replicas, but it worked.

He's like a cute, bouncing mini Hawks. Complete with goggles and wings.

And Hayami is happy. And that's all that matters to you.

The line is already pretty long, and Hayami runs his gloved hands along the line barriers as he races to his spot, audibly wooshing the whole way — just like Hawks does, probably. His badge jingles, and he hops to a stop as you come up behind him and pat his head. The six-year-old stands up on his tippy-toes, trying to see around the Miss Midnight fan in front of them.

"Can you see him?" he chatters excitedly, "Ti, can you?"

He's called you Ti ever since he could speak. Auntie was too long, and the shortened version has stuck.

You hop up onto your tippy-toes, mimicking him — and you swear you catch a glimpse of a crimson feather plumage over the gathered heads of the other meet-and-greet fans. It might be another cosplayer.

"I dunno," you whisper, your eyes darting to your phone's lock screen, "It's supposed to start any minute—"

The telltale roar of fanfare lets you know exactly who has just arrived.

Hayami's excitement is palpable. Without a word, you're hauling him up and perching him on your shoulders. His hands land in your hair, and you can feel his smile from down here.

"Ti! It's him!"

The line starts moving not long after, and you finish your iced coffee while Hayami stays perched on your shoulders, utterly starstruck. You weave through the barriers, moving up a few feet every minute, until you're only four or five people away from where Hawks sits behind a long table.

You have to admit, the guy is pretty cute.

Cuter than the fan-cams make him out to be, even.

Sandy blonde hair, sharp gold eyes, and big wings. There's no doubt in your mind he's showboating, but as people approach the table, you notice this hesitant twitch ripple through the red feathers every time someone gets a little too close.

That cringe from earlier washes over your face again as a girl reaches over the table to roughly run her fingers across one of his flight feathers.

It's Keigo's least favorite part of all this.

I mean, there's a part of him that gets it. He's the #2 Hero in all of Japan. He's a big deal. He's top of the popularity polls, he's the people's bird, y'know? He's a marketed commodity that sells out each and every time.

But, that doesn't mean he likes being touched.

Especially the wings. Hands off the wings.

"Hey, Hayami?" you ask, tilting your head up as you both step forward.

You can feel the sudden nervousness creeping up on Hayami as he nods and looks down at you. "Y-Yea?"

"Make sure you ask for permission if you touch his wings, okay?" you say gently, muscling him down from your shoulders and doing a once over on his mini-Hawks cosplay, "And remember to tell him your name!"

Hayami nods, his nerves palpable as he realizes the two of you are next.

On instinct, his hand shoots out and grips yours for dear life.

And then, one of the marketers waves the two of you forward.

The first word that comes to Keigo's mind is MILF. You're cute. Real cute. Definitely not the usual sort he meets at conventions, and definitely not the usual sort that buys a ticket to his meet-and-greets. The kid clinging to your arm is arguably even cuter, and Hawks can't hide the blooming grin on his face when the pair of you step forward.

"Woa-ho!" he yaps from behind the patterned table, "Dude! Nice outfit!"

Hayami is panicking. You can tell from his shocked silence as the two of you step forward. You bend at the knees, squatting to your nephew's height, then encourage him to go ahead, go on. His big, brown eyes bob from you to Hawks.

"Go ahead, Hayami," you encourage softly, "Say hi."

Oh, shit. You're really cute. Is this your kid? Nah, no way. You're way too young to be his mom. Unless—

You've seriously got him weighing the pros and cons of step-fatherhood and he doesn't even know your name.

He could do stepdad shit at twenty-six. Right?

"Hi, Mr. Hawks," comes the shy voice of the mini Hawks before him; the sandy blonde's chest clenches.

This is too fuckin' cute.

"Heh, hey kid," he chirps back, leaning forward on the table as his mouth curves into a friendly grin; Hawks' eyes are trained on the kid's growing smile, "What's your name?"

"H-Hayami."

"It's cool t' meetcha, Hayami," Hawks parrots as your own proud smile grows. There's relief flooding your shoulders. Thank god, Hayami didn't choke the clutch moment, "I like your wings, lil' dude!"

Hayami gives a little turn, wiggling his prized, handmade possession. His confidence is building; the compliment lights the kid's cheeks up.

"My aunt helped me make them!" Hayami chatters, his eyes brightening from behind the flight goggles strapped to his head, "She says I need to ask for your permission to touch your feathers!"

Keigo's gold eyes slip to your face. You give him an apologetic grimace, your eyes flicking to the girl beyond the VIP area still screaming about how she touched him, she touched Hawks, oh my god. You mouth out a silent apology.

Hawks' finds himself a little speechless. Doesn't happen often.

He's not used to having some say in how he's objectified and consumed.

A sandy brow quirks as he pushes his yellow-tinted visor up, and into his hair. He seems shocked. It's not an expression you've seen on the #2 before — and in the last few weeks, you've seen plenty of Hawks content during Hayami's cosplaying journey. The reference material is pretty expansive.

"That's real considerate, chickadee — I appreciate that," his voice is soft; his smile is a little looser, "C'mere, Hayami, you wanna hold a feather while I sign your poster?"

This is, like, the best day of Hayami's life.

Hawks brings his visor back down.

You stand to full height, wringing your purse's strap, watching Hayami hold both hands out as one of the delicate pieces of plumage floats into his hands on command. He cradles it like treasure, his big brown eyes glimmering with new-found amazement.

You step forward, and place a hand on Hayami's shoulder as he gently ushers his hands toward your face. "Ti, look, isn't this, like, the coolest thing ever — it's one of Hawks' feathers!"

Hawks' eyes flick up to the two of you as his pen darts across the two VIP package posters. There's a smirk on his face as he pays half attention to the task of signing.

And scribbling his number on the back of one.

"I see that," you chuckle, leaning in to inspect the beautiful, crimson feather, "Make sure you say th—"

Before you finish your sentence, the very feather in question darts up to tickle the tip of your nose. Your immediate reaction is to scrunch your nose and grin. It's not so much ticklish as it is gentle. For good measure, Hawks gives Hayami a little brush on the cheek, too. The boy descends into delighted laughter, allowing the feather to zip back through the air and into its designated place in his wings.

Hawks is smirking.

"Alright you two," comes the level voice of the marketer; the camera in her hands is bulky, and a signifier that their time meeting #2 is nearly up, "Let's get in nice and close for a photo!"

The table proves to be a bit of a pain, but you bend down to Hayami's height as Hawks leans over the table and gives you both bunny ears. The camera flash burns bright in your eyes as Hayami's hand darts into yours again.

"Here you two go," Hawks rumbles easily; he's standing now, and you find yourself yet again struck by how handsome he is. He smells like summer air and some expensive cologne you'll probably never know the name of. Definitely one of his sponsors.

You take both posters, as Hayami's excitement seems to overflow and he's nearly buzzing with excitement to know he has Hawks' autograph. The boy bounces at your heels as he clutches his signed copy of the annual convention poster. His big, brown eyes are wide with pure joy.

"Thank you!" Hayami chatters, "You're the best, Hawks!"

"Thank you," you smile, taking your own poster as Hayami's hand rockets back into yours.

"Nah, it's nothin', chickadee. Thanks for the manners," he calls after you with a touch of good humor, "You're real sweet."

"No problem!" you stutter out, thrown entirely by the compliment, as one of the other marketers guides you towards the exit with a hand on your back.

"Oh, hey! One last thing!"

You flick your eyes back over your shoulder as you're shuffled out of the meet-and-greet.

You watch Hawks mouth 'check the poster', and with a hand held up to the side of his face. Then, 'call me'.

"You're kidding me."

Hayami is finally asleep — and your sister is closing the door to his darkened bedroom as she hisses the words out. You're leaning against the hallway wall, arms crossed and looking entirely exasperated.

"I can't just call him," you say softly as you kick off the wall and follow her into the kitchen, "This isn't, like, the hot waiter who leaves his number on the receipt—"

"No, it's even better," she chatters, moving towards the unfinished glass of wine that sits on the dinner table, "I swear to god if you don't pick up that phone and call him right now—"

It's your brother-in-law who speaks up from the couch. "What's stopping you?"

"I don't know, being chronically single?" you cry as you throw your hands, "I haven't gotten a wax in months—"

"You seriously think #2 cares?" comes your sister's flat reply.

Your brother-in-law mimics her affectation. He throws a finger in the air. "Real heroes don't care."

The two of them high-five.

...They're probably right.

You suck your teeth as you cross your arms again and weigh your options.

I mean — it's only eight o'clock. It's early. And it's a Friday.

It could go two ways — you break your year-long dry spell with the #2 pro-hero in the country, or it's a total bust and he turns out to be a massive weirdo. Both are frankly pretty entertaining.

You chew your lip.

Then, you decide.

You kick off the wall and move towards your phone in the kitchen. It's sitting beside the poster.

"Oh my god, are you doing it?" your sister calls from the couch, her hand gripping her husband's arm tightly.

"I'm doing it," you say, ignoring the bite of nervousness in your hands as you type in the cell number that was scrawledhastily on the back of the poster.

"Ohmygod."

It's ringing.

Suddenly, you have an audience. Your sister and brother-in-law are crowding you, their faces wide and expectant as it continues to ring. You pull your thumb to your mouth, pushing your bottom lip between your teeth. You let it ring, and ring, and just when you settle that you're being sent to voicemail, there's a click and a voice.

"'Ello?"

Your sister slams her hand into her husband's back, the two of them scrambling in a sudden flash of limbs and excitement. You drag your thumb across your throat — gesturing for them to cut it out.

"Uh, hi," you fumble, "Is this... Hawks?"

Suddenly, there's a bark of laughter on the other line. "The one and only. Who's this?"

A slow smirk tugs at your cheeks. "I checked the back of the poster — a bold move, y'know."

"Convention Cutie!" he practically cheers, "Hold on, hold on — gimme two seconds, lemme just land."

Your lips part and you blink. The mental image is a hell of a thing. You swallow down a bought of amusement. "Sure, sure, take your time."

Keigo was starting to doubt you'd actually call him. The convention wrapped up hours ago, and he already made himself busy by exploring the southern city. It's nice here. A little bit like his hometown. Not too much crime, which has made for a pretty uneventful evening.

Until now.

His boots touch down on the nearby rooftop and he settles into an easy squat. His wings tuck themselves tightly against his back.

You can hear a bit of wind bristle against his end of the receiver.

"Alright, alright, sorry," he rumbles out, "Now you've got my full, undivided attention—"

You tug on your bottom lip. Your sister and brother-in-law are entirely hooked on the little bits they're overhearing from their spot across the counter. Your sister takes a long drink of her wine.

"Am I... being a bit of a distraction?" you ask, "If now isn't a good time—"

"You've been a distraction all day," comes the smooooooth reply; even Keigo's proud of himself for that one, "I'm just out for a fly. Nothin' too serious. I am glad you called, though."

Oh, fuck. Your knees feel like jello. You white-knuckle grip the counter as your sister gnashes her teeth and mimics biting her fist in silent mimery.

"Yea?" you pry, fanning yourself as you lean farther against the counter.

"Yea, definitely," Hawks grins as he tips his head back and checks out the stars, "You busy tomorrow night? I'd love to take you out to dinner."

There's a commotion across the kitchen. The two of them are smacking one another's arms, their genuine excitement is palpable as they try to stay quiet. They're failing.

"I'd love that, Hawks."

This is new for him.

Technically speaking, you're not a fan. Your nephew is. So, this doesn't technically qualify as one of those unspoken hero faux pas. Don't date fans. Then again, what does it matter? He can do whatever he wants.

And you're cute. And nice. And kind. And maybe he's being a sap, but seeing you with your nephew made something in his heart tighten. He didn't even notice he was making a nest of scrapped trash from the posters around his seat until the afternoon was over.

God, sometimes the evolutionarily deep, bird DNA thing is weird.

Hawks lets out a tight breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Cool. Okay. Uh, you... you chill with, like, 7pm?" he fiddles with his visor, "I'm... I'm free whenever so..."

He sounds nervous. Your grin is so bright it could outburn the sun.

"That works for me," you say as you fiddle with your lip, "As far as dress code goes... Do I, like, need a flight suit?"

His laugh is warm.

"No, no, I — I was gonna get us an Uber," his voice lilts into something more mischievous, "Unless..."

"Maybe after dinner," you remark easily, swaying side to side, "You can show me what those wings do?"

Oh, smooth. Real smooth. Keigo's face is warm. His wings in question twitch eagerly at the invitation.

"You gonna ask before you touch?" he teases back into the receiver, his brow raised.

It's your turn to laugh. "Hey, it's called being polite."

"I appreciate it," he rumbles out, about earlier at the convention, "Seriously. People are grabby — these things are sensitive..."

"Making a mental note of that, and filing it away," you flirt openly as your sister cheers silently, "For after dinner, maybe."

Keigo's brain stutter-steps. His laugh is surprised. He's about to comment on how you might just be the girl of his dreams when suddenly the wail of sirens perks up his attention. It's two blocks over. Three fire engines. The wind is carrying the smell of acrid smoke.

"Hey, chickadee, I, uh... I gotta go," he says, standing and allowing his attention to drift to the scene playing out in front of him; it's a house fire — must be — on the southern side of town, "I'll text you the spot for tomorrow, is that okay?"

"Of course, don't let me keep you," you hush, "I'll... text you?"

"I'm countin' on it."

"Bye, Hawks."

"See ya, chickadee."

You didn't even realize you were sweating until you put the phone down.

Your sister and her husband are there, eyes wide. "So?"

"So," you croon as you laugh and pridefully sway your hips, "I have plans tomorrow night."

Their screaming wakes up Hayami.

As you help the kid back to sleep, you keep it secret that he's a better wingman than you could have ever anticipated.

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gojosrealgf · 11 months ago

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那维莱特 | NEUVILLETTE ; WORK

summary | a man like neuvillette has so many responsibilities placed upon him, its impossible to not be thinking of work 24/7… until his assistant proposes something that might help him relief some of that stress.

tags | nsfw (smut), fem!reader, clothed sex, cockwarming, belly bulge, creampie, 1.9k words

a/n : everyone probably already wrote about cockwarming neuvi in his office but its soooo him

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“sorryー you want to what?”

neuvillette almost chokes on his own saliva at your request, as he tries to contain himself. he clears his throat, once, twice, staring at you with raised eyebrows.

“apologies, neuvillette. i only come with good intentions,” you reply, slightly bowing. that innocent smile on your face is a crime in itself; as if you didn’t just suggest such an inappropriate idea to the iudex of fontaine.

his eyes widen as he tries to give a reply, but nothing comes to mind. he’s never like thisー always a calm, collected man. someone who always knew what to say. yet at this moment, no words come out.

“just… repeat your suggestion,” he tries to clarify, because he’s had to have heard you wrongly.

“of course, neuvillette,” you say, lifting your head up from your prior bowing position. “i suggested to cockwarm you while you do your work.”

so he didn’t hear it wrong. never would he expect such dirty words coming out from you, so direct as if it were a normal thing to do, someone who he placed full faith on as his assistant of years to always be professional andー

“neuvillette, you always look so stressed, even now…” you trailed off, slowly making your way closer to his desk. your eyes glanced at his hand, where he gripped his ink pen a little too tightly. it looked like it might snap in two. “i figured i could be of more help as your assistant.”

his eyes follow you as you place both hands on his desk. he just couldn’t help it when his gaze falls from your face to your chest.

neuvillette sighs, closing his eyes. this is so unlike you, so unlike him. “that is… highly inappropriate and very vulgar of you, y/n,” he scolds, conflicted. it was certainly unexpected of you to bring up something like that. i mean, couldn’t you have suggested something else to relieve his stress? something more appropriate? but then again…

“is that so, neuvillette? then, why aren’t you rejecting it?” you ask, your boldness taking the both of you by surprise.

no matter how strict he sounded, or tried to sound, he couldn’t reject itー didn’t want to reject it. a part of him knows how good it would feel, just to have the warmth of your cunt squeezing around his cock as he goes through stacks upon stacks of paperwork, mind occupied with how your walls tighten around him and milk his cock instead of how many cases he has to deal with for the next couple of days. you’d probably whine and squirm around him like the impatient brat you’d be, begging for him to fuck you on the desk.

even as his expression remains stern, the strain in his pants tell a different story.

neuvillette brings himself back to reality, releasing the pen that he didn’t notice he had such a tight grip on. fuck, he thinks. relief from stress sounds so good right now, he doesn’t think about asking you again. he deserves a break every once in a while; he reasons with himself. “come here, y/n.”

you had to stop yourself from smiling as you practically skipped over to him. of course he would take up that offer, especially when it came from you. who could blame him, when his pretty little assistant was so eager to sit on his cock?

he pulls you onto his lap, your back facing him. his own thighs spread yours apart. you feel his bulge instantly, trying to grind on it to relieve yourself. his hands reach up to your hips immediately, holding you down to stop you from moving. how naughty, he thinks. aren’t you just so eager to have his cock inside you? you must’ve been fantasizing about this for a long time.

he lowers his pants just enough for his cock to spring out, tapping it a few times on your panties. “you still have a chance to revoke your offer,” he states, and you scoff.

“oh please neuvillette, you really think i’m going to go back on my suggestioー ahh…”

you get cut off with your own moan as he uses his cock to nudge your panties aside, slipping in with no resistance at all from how wet you were. it squelches as he enters; not even a second in and his cock was already dripping with your juices. he throws his head back against the chair, letting out a deep groan. he has to hold himself back from thrusting up into you, remembering the original offer was to cockwarm, nothing else.

he felt so big inside of you, almost like you could feel it in your throat. neuvillette, unaware as he shifts to find the ideal position to do his work, nudges his cock further into you, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. “nghー neuvillette!” you cry out, but he doesn’t say anything, just shushes you and tightens the grip that his fingers have on your waist anytime you try to bounce on his cock. he reaches for the same pen, trying his absolute best in maintaining his composure while he continues his work.

…

time passes so slowly. it seemed like forever as neuvillette sorted out his work like you weren’t even there. he would let out a couple sighs every once in a while, but that was about it.

you on the other hand, continue to writhe around on his lap, finding any way to stimulate yourself. even though you were the one who suggested this, it felt like torture for his cock to just sit inside of you without any movement. “neuvillette…” you whine again, hoping he would give in.

but oh, the self-restraint that neuvillette has right now to not lift you onto the desk and fuck your brains out while you’re sprawled out all over his paperwork, is worthy of an applause. how he does it? he doesn’t know. what he does know is that each time you squeeze around his cock, it’s definitely on purpose. “stop that immediately, you’re distracting me,” he reprimands, but his words hold no weight as you continue doing it anyway. at some point, he was halfway done with his work, not a single hint of stress creeping up on him at all. quite productive he must say; your cunt works wonders.

you don’t stop squeezing, trying to bring him to his limit. he has to be close, right? he can stop you from moving, but tightening around him like that was something out of his control.

he groans as you continue your adminstrations around him, grinding onto the base of his cock as his grip slowly released from you. “don’t think i don’t know what you’re doing, hm? just a little more work, be patient.” neuvillette buries his face into the back of your neck, picking up the scent of the perfume you always use. you smelt so good, he could just eat you up.

as you start slipping off his lap, he adjusts his position with an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to himー and then he feels it. his hand was at where your tummy was protruding slightly, cock nestling right where it belonged. was this there the entire time? “y/n, is that..?” he questions, and you nod, letting out a gasp when he applies pressure onto that spot. that was his breaking point.

neuvillette couldn’t take it anymore. the sight of your tummy bulging ever so slightly, taking the shape of his cock, was too much for him. he lifts you onto his desk, some papers getting crumpled and falling off his table, but he could honestly care less. you gasp when he spreads your legs, tapping his glistening cock a few times on your pussy, before entering in one thrust, just as easily as before. “neuvillette! whaー”

he doesn’t even give you time to adjust. his hips move against yours almost immediately as he continuously pounds into you, he’s absolutely ruthless. truly the chief of justice; making you feel so good like that. he leans down, elbows beside your head as he pushes his cock so much deeper into you, he hits your cervix. “neuvilletteー pleaseー you’re so deepー nngh!” he clicks his tongue at your volume, kissing you to silence you, for someone might actually hear. hell, he didn’t even know if the door was locked.

your moans getting louder each time he thrusts has his cock twitching and his hips stuttering. he couldn’t believe it, after all these years of being so formal with you, only to end up being the one fucking your brains out. not very professional of him, but he’ll deal with the consequences later.

your fingers grip the edge of his wooden desk as he slams into you over, and over, and over again. almost like he was letting out all his pent out stress onto you, which… was your original intention anyway. his speed doesn’t falter, not even a little.

“was this what youー mmhー wanted? is that why you brought up that suggestion? you knew it would end up like this, isn’t thatー ahー right?” he accuses, and you let out a moan in response. he saw right through you.

neuvillette was so close, he could cum at any moment right now. but of course, he’s a gentleman, so he’ll let you have your orgasm. it was well-deserved; his thanks to you for bringing up such a suggestion. he bites the tip of his glove, pulling it off his hand and throwing it aside. his thumb reaches for your clit, rough circular movements bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“i’m so close, neuvillette, please i begー ahh,” you pleaded. with how his name rolls off your tongue, seems like he has no choice but to give you what he wants. after all, you asked so nicely.

your walls tighten around him as your orgasm washes over you, fingers tangled in his hair, gripping onto him for dear life but he doesn’t stop thrusting. you were so sensitive, your thighs tried to close around him to stop him from moving, but he pushes them wider and fucks harder into you.

“you’re so wetー ah fuck,” he curses as he starts to lose his consistent pace. he was so close, he could feel himself cumming as his balls tighten up, cock throbbing inside you.

“can you take it, y/n? can you take my cum?” neuvillette asks, pinning your hands above your head.

“yes! inside, cum inside,” you begged, and he does just that. his cock plunges into your pussy for the last time as he cums inside you, an immediate warm feeling coating your lower half. “fuckー!” he hisses as he stills inside you, what feels like never-ending spurts of cum being pumped inside you. his white seed leaks out of your entrance, dripping down your ass and onto the desk… probably on a few documents as well.

he makes the smart decision to not pull out immediately. his cum would definitely gush out and stain everything.

he releases the grip on your wrists, soothing the red marks gently with a kiss. “y/n, you have my thanksー for relieving my stress.”

you sigh, exhausted, but contented. “i’ll be here the next time you’re stressed,” you offer, adding a quick winkー and then you feel him harden again inside you.

“i think i’m still stressed now, actually.”

ー @yuki-world

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