#meatboy167

Miguel and your father have been friends since college.

When your dad needed help with homework, Miguel was there. When your dad needed someone to pass to during the game, Miguel was there. When your dad mourned the loss of your mom, taken from the world too soon, Miguel was there. There were countless nights where Miguel would tutor your dad on subjects he struggled with after missing classes to take care of you: the angel he was gifted with in high school. Although he admits you came into his life a bit too early for comfort, he has always loved and prioritized you. And Miguel quickly became your dad’s best friend because, although he never met you, he could tell just how much your father cared about you.

And so he was always there for your dad. All through college and beyond.

It wasn’t until you started college that Miguel had the pleasure of meeting you. Your dad had planned a hangout with the three of you, telling you about how important it is to have a good friend on your side, how it helped him when times got tough.

And now you’re 21 - sitting on your childhood bed after coming home from college for the summer. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been thinking about Miguel since you’ve been home. When you met him three years ago, you were somewhat intimidated by him. How could you not? Look at the sheer size of that man. But you came to know through your school breaks that he was a lot more laid-back than you previously thought. You hate to admit it, but you’ve developed a slight crush on him. It’s stupid, you know, but how could you possibly resist those deep brown eyes and that smooth baritone voice that pulls you in every time?

Knock knock “Chiquita?”

You recognized that silky tone. It was Miguel.

“Yeah?” you say, putting your phone to the side. “Come in.” The doorknob twists and your door slowly creeps open. Behind it was that beautiful man: soft brown curls, slightly hidden by a backwards cap, a strong nose, dusty jeans that hug his legs just right, and a plain white tee with a gold cross dangling from a chain around his neck. Your dad’s best friend. Miguel.

He steps into your room and lingers by the door, a lazy smile across his face.  Dios… he was something else.

“¿Qué estás haciendo, mami? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

You sit up straighter, trying not to look as lousy as you feel. He came in here looking like a goddamn Roman god and you’re just sitting in your pjs. “Just scrolling,” you reply. “Trying to enjoy my time without homework.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Your papi invited me over,” he says, stepping further into the room. “Just to catch up and share a few Modelos.”

You watch his arms cross over his chest, the sleeves of his tee tightening around his huge arms. “Doesn’t explain why you’re in here,” you say. “Shouldn’t you be out back with him, then?”

“What, ¿no puedo saludar a la hija de mi amigo?" he laughs. “That’s not fair.” he adds with a fake pout that makes you giggle.

“I didn’t say that,” you smile. He walks over and sits on the edge of your bed. You notice his watch gleam in the sunlight filtering through your windows. “Did you come here from work? Your shirt is dirty as hell.”

“You know how it is, beba. Being a blue collar worker is a tough job.”

You snort. “Please, being a mechanic is hardly blue collar work. You stay inside a garage all day.”

“My customers would beg to differ,” Miguel says. “You should see how many señoras come into my garage looking for a replacement for their shitty husbands.”

“Makes me feel like they’re tryna put a ring on it.” he wiggles his calloused fingers in front of you for added effect.

“Well, it makes sense,” you say. “You’re about their age anyway.”

“Oye!” he laughs. “I’m thirty-seven, thank you very much. Not even close to their age.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever you say, viejo.”

The sun had set an hour ago and he hadn’t gone home yet.

Despite the amount of times Miguel offered to leave, not wanting to overstay his welcome, your father insisted he stay for “ten more minutes” and handed him another beer each time. The sound of the two men laughing from the living room kept you awake. It normally wouldn’t bother you, since you’re a night owl anyway, but you have plans with your friend tomorrow that you have to wake up early for.

You exit the comfort of your bedroom and head into the living room where you find Miguel and your dad chatting loudly on the couch. Miguel’s arm is draped over the back of the sofa, which accentuates his already defined chest - not to mention the dim lamp light casting beautiful shadows on his face.

“Ah, mija, there you are!” your father exclaims, very drunkenly. “I was wondering where you were. No te he visto en todo el día!”

“Lo siento, papi.” You reply, leaning against the wall. Miguel’s stare feels hot on your skin. You can see him through your peripheral vision, looking as handsome as ever.

“Es tarde, chiquita.” Miguel says, his words coming out slower due to all the Modelo in his system. “Why are you still up?”

“That’s exactly why I came in here; to tell you two to shut up.”

“¡Oye! Watch your mouth, mija.” your dad says sternly, while Miguel just chuckles.

“Sorry, pequeña,” Miguel says, setting his beer down on the coffee table. “We’ll keep it down. But don’t swear at your padre, yeah? Respect your elders.”

“Uh huh.” you shrug, waving the two men goodbye as you retire to your bedroom. You were sure that Miguel would still be there when you woke up in the morning, but hopefully he’ll be passed out by then and not still chatting with your dad.

You fall asleep almost immediately. The newly-installed fan in your room helped rid the summer heat and cool your bedroom to a comfortable temperature, while still allowing you to snuggle up under the blankets. A band tee and plain panties is all you wore, which was normal for you unless you were staying at a friend's house - at which point you’d obviously throw on some shorts. The moon shining through your windows acts as a sort of night-light, and you’re soothed to sleep by the crickets outside and the less-deafening sound of chatter from your living room.

Your alarm wakes you up around 8am, which is earlier than you normally start your day. As you go to turn off the noise, you hear a tired groan come from behind you. “Mmph… turn that off.”

You flinch and turn around, covering yourself with your blankets at the stranger in your bed. But it wasn’t a stranger. It was Miguel.

“Miguel!” you whisper-shout, nudging his shoulder. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

He huffs and pushes his face into your pillow, and this is your first chance to get a good look at him. He’s shirtless, of course, but his muscular frame isn’t what draws you to him. His hair is tousled from sleep in a way you haven’t seen before, a grumpy pout peeking out from the pillow he’s buried his face in. He still has his gold chain around his neck, but he seems to have discarded his hat and jeans - which you see laying on your floor. You knew this man was gorgeous… but this was the most stunning you’ve ever seen him. The morning light only makes it better.

“Tu papá durmió en el sofá,” he mumbled, the sleepiness of his voice making him sound more attractive than ever. “And his room was too hot to sleep in.”

“That doesn’t explain why you decided to crawl into my bed unannounced.” you say.

He turns his head to look at you, and one of his arms slides under his pillow to prop himself up. “Cálmate, princesa. You had tons of room and it was cool in here.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

You sit up and brush the hair out of your face, trying to wake yourself up so that you can get ready. Miguel sleepily snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you back down. Your head flops on the pillow and messes up your hair once again.

“Quédate, mami. Sleep with me.” he mumbles, closing his eyes once more.

“E-Excuse me!?” Oh you were definitely blushing now. No way he just said that! You knew that he didn’t actually mean it like that… but you also knew that he wasn’t dumb. Whether his intentions were pure or not, you knew that he worded it that way on purpose. Was your silly little crush reciprocated?

He hugs you closer to him, pulling you flush against his bare chest. The cold metal of his necklace makes you shiver, especially in contrast with how hot his body is. Temperature, you mean.

“You heard me.” he doubles down.

“Do you even-”

“I know what I said, chiquita.” Miguel opens his eyes now - the lazy drawl of his voice becoming more awake and purposeful. His gaze on you is unbearable. You could feel the intensity of his stare. “And I know what I meant.”

You stare at him in silence. How could you speak? The man who you’ve had a crush on since you started college was in your bed, half naked, making a move on you. Part of you thinks that he’s waited long enough to finally do this, but another part of you feels some sort of guilt. He’s over a decade older than you, and a family friend no less. You can see through his eyes that he feels similarly, but his passion is overpowering any sense of guilt. Besides, you’re both adults. How bad could it be?

He leans over you, pinning you down onto your own mattress. A position that’s typically domineering, and yet, you can see his gaze soften uncharacteristically for him. He brushes a strand of loose hair away from your face.

“Que linda…” he mumbles, eyes trailing all over your face. “Eres tan hermosa.”

Miguel leans his face closer to yours, his gold cross dangling from his neck and touching yours. You can feel his warm breath ghosting over your lips. You’re stunned but also… excited?

“Miguel.”

“Yes?”

“Quiero sentirte.” you whisper, your eyes meeting his. You hear his breath catch in his throat. “Tócame. Hazme el amor.”

He chuckles, a flirty pout crossing his face. “Oh, pobrecita…” he grins, tracing your jawline with his dexterous fingers. Your face tilts up closer to his, your lips brushing as he speaks. “You know I can’t do that.”

...

What?

“Why not?” he can visibly hear the disappointment in your voice. It almost makes him feel bad, especially with how beautiful you look in the morning light.

“Don’t wanna wake your papi, nena.” he caresses your face once more, leaning back a little so he can look at your face properly. “I can’t make you scream while everyone else is asleep. We have to keep this a secret. But where’s the fun in sex if I can’t hear your pretty whines, hm?”

You smack his chest. “Oh fuck off, Mig. Come here.”

Before he can respond, you grab him by his necklace and drag him down to your lips. The moment your mouths connect, it’s like fireworks going off in his head. He swears you taste better than any bizcocho he’s ever had. Miguel holds your waist as you tangle your hands through his hair, and he lets out a soft groan. His hips involuntarily rut against your thigh, and he decides he can’t take it anymore.

His hand dips between the two of you to tug your panties down, freeing your skin to his touch. His thumb lazily circles your clit, while the other calloused hand is still resting on your hips. He feels like he’s in heaven, feeling you squirm underneath him, but he knows this is only the start of the fun you’ll have together. He swallows every sound you make with his lips on yours, his tongue fighting with yours for control. He pulls his hands back once he’s sure that you’re wet and ready. You two are gasping for air by the time your lips part, and his deep eyes look into yours with a silent plea. You nod your head desperately.

Miguel makes quick work of removing what little clothes he had left on his lower body before sinking into your warmth, slowly but surely. You gasp.

He leans his forehead against yours, savoring the moment of stillness. It’s like you two are in your own little bubble - no one else can interfere. He kisses you lovingly as he starts to move, silencing any moans or sighs you might have that others could hear. You’re just for him, no one else can experience you. His thrusts are slow, but agonizingly deep. You feel it deep in your core, kissing your cervix with every push of his hips forward.

“God…” he whines. “You feel so fucking good. So good for me, baby.” You arch against him, your hands dragging along his back for support. He glances down at where your two bodies connect, and the sight almost makes him pass out. “Que cosita más linda, mami.” he whispers.

“Damelo… please..” you whine, scrunching your eyes shut with all the pleasure you feel.

“I am, nena, I am. It’s all for you, princesa. I promise.”

His pace speeds up a little more, but he’s still pushing into you just as deep, “Show me you love it, baby. Mírame.”

You meet his gaze with glassy eyes, breathing heavily and nails digging into his back. You wrap your legs around his slim waist and he throws his head back at the tighter feel. “That’s it, baby. Así así…”

He’s rutting into you wildly, chasing his high. You look down to watch as his dick disappears into your cunt. The wet sounds of his hips smacking yours clouds your mind. Each roll of his hips brings you closer to the edge. “You’re so pretty, muñeca. So so pretty f’me.”

His large hands sneak under your t-shirt and grope your tits, squeezing and caressing in a way that makes you hazy. “Want you to look at me while I fill you up. Can you do that for me, baby?”

You nod your head frantically, scratching the skin of his shoulders. You’ve never wanted anything more. The two of you are getting dangerously close to climax, and you swear you can hear him whimper.

“God, baby, feels so fucking good. No puedo más, no puedo más…!”

A squeal escapes you as he spills into your heat, with your own crescendo arriving shortly after. There’s a creamy white ring around his base as he starts to slow the roll of his hips. Miguel eventually stills and collapses, hugging you close in the same sort of cuddle as before, but still resting inside you.

After the exhaustion wears off, you pull back to stare into his eyes. A hand comes up to cup his face, rubbing his flushed cheek gently. “That was fucking amazing, Mig. I haven’t felt that good in so long.”

He laughs softly, returning your affectionate gaze. “Do you think your papi heard us?”

“Definitely not.” you giggle. “He’s a heavy sleeper.”

“That’s good.” Miguel holds you for a few more minutes, just silently staring at you. You can’t even imagine how blissed out you must look right now, but it’s all so gorgeous to him. “Eres increíble, mi vida.”

You hum in delight, stroking his cheeks once more. “You too, mi cielo.”

... you're gonna have to cancel your plans for today.

sort of switched to Miguel's pov in the last section cuz i wanted to experiment :))))

i hope you guys liked it!! dbf!miguel inspiration from @mybvalentine

and yes... he's a mechanic. it just suits him ok??

----

He didn’t even realize he was doing it at first.

The two of you had been sharing a tent for the past few weeks - since you’ve finally decided to make your relationship official. It was much easier to just sleep next to one another, since you would’ve ended up visiting each other’s bedrolls anyway.

You were just cuddling; big spooning your vampire lover. Naturally, he ran cold due to the lack of blood flow in his system, and your warm body was the perfect remedy for that. Elves had no need for sleep, but Astarion often took the time to meditate while you were resting soundly beside him. Sometimes, when you would tell him about your dreams, he would recall the memories he visited in his “slumber”. Similarly to dreams, Astarion didn’t have much control over which memories his mind visited during his trance - which often led to restless nights. You were no stranger to being woken up to the feeling of your lover thrashing beside you, haunted by night terrors of his past.

But tonight, you were awakened by a different feeling.

He was… twitching. Ever so slightly. You probably wouldn’t have even noticed the movement had your arms not been wrapped around him. One curled under his torso like a hug, and another resting near his thighs.

Your eyes opened slowly. Confused, you briefly glanced around the shared sleeping space to see moonlight filter through the flaps of the tent. You lifted your head, glancing down at your “sleeping” lover - whose silvery hair seemed to sparkle under the gentle rays of the moon. True to his name, he looked like a star.

But then you felt it again. A slight buck of his hips, just barely rutting into the air where your hand was near. A fond memory, perhaps? Barely-audible gasps escaped the vampire's plump lips, accompanied by a small groan. You weren’t naive. You knew what was happening. Despite the loss of sleep it’s causing you, you much preferred him to be visited by a… fun dream rather than a tortuous one.

Cautiously, you shift your hand - placing it over his clothed groin. You gently squeezed, feeling a slight tent in his trousers. The party would be moving locations tomorrow, and you wanted your lover to be well-rested before the long journey ahead. So you might as well help him relieve himself… purely for rest purposes, of course. Glancing down at the beautiful man beside you, you trailed your hand up his torso, stopping at his cheek to softly caress the skin there. Other than the horrid scars on his back, Astarion was surprisingly soft for someone so well-traveled. You couldn’t stop the blush from creeping up your neck, all the way your cheeks and the tips of your ears, when his brows furrowed - making a face signifying some sort of exertion. You wondered which of your late-night escapades he was dreaming of. A smirk crossed your face.

Gently and carefully, you unlace his trousers - eager to relieve his pent-up feelings of frustration that plague him during his rest. You reach for his cock, freeing the weight from its restraints. A small, pearly bead of pre-cum drips from his flushed tip, practically begging to be touched. Gods. He was gorgeous. You glide your hand up and down his length, occasionally brushing your thumb over his weeping tip. You feel him pulse underneath you with every tug and squeeze - his face scrunching in sleepy pleasure. Part of you wanted to see him come undone completely, writhing in bliss beneath you like he deserved, but the other part of you wanted to keep this discreet - allowing him to remain “asleep” as to not disturb his much needed rejuvenation period.

“A-ah…” Astarion lets out a soft moan, almost undetectable if not for your unwavering focus on his figure. Truly, this man was sculpted by the gods - planes of hard muscle decorated with smooth, pale skin. The vampire’s eyes flutter open as you continue to jerk him, his whines of delight slowly increasing in volume as he becomes more aware of his surroundings.

“Darling,” he whispers, his blood-red eyes staring intensely into yours. His head tilts back, pushing further into the pillow beneath him while he succumbs to the pleasure you’re giving him. “To what do I… o-owe this pleasure?”

You smile down at him, staring into his lidded gaze with adoration. “Just wanted to make you feel good, ‘Star.” you hum, pumping him faster and feeling his dick twitch under your fingertips. He reaches up, wrapping a large hand around your neck and pulling you down to meet him in a searing kiss. Despite his tired demeanor, he pours a surprising amount of intensity into the kiss - reveling in the heat shared between your mouths.

Just as he reaches his climax, Astarion tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth, biting into you in true vampiric-fashion and savoring the crimson liquid that pools from your mouth. It only seems to spur on his orgasm, masking his senses with white-hot bliss while he bucks up into your hand, cum dripping down your wrist and pooling on his abdomen.

Once he has come down from his high, he pulls away from you, leaning back down to the pillow. You lean over him, picking up a nearby wash-rag and gently cleaning up his release before cuddling up next to him. Astarion glances over at you, a spent look of happiness on his face. He flashes you a fangy grin before planting a soft peck on your cheek.

“You’re quite bold aren’t you, darling?” he chuckles, sighing as he rests his head in the crook of your neck. Your lover wraps himself around you, entangling his limbs with yours in a deep embrace. “Toying with me during my slumber. Such a minx.”

You giggle, carding your fingers through his white curls, nuzzling closer to him. “Just trying to help you rest, love.”

“That, you did.” he smirks, taking another deep breath before drifting back into a trace - with your sleep following shortly after.

day 2 complete! hope u guys like it <3

Kento Nanami was a loving man. He always wanted the best for his pretty wife - especially when you looked so cute walking around your shared apartment in one of his shirts. He loves making you feel good, showering you with kisses and praise.

“You’re so good to me, my love…” he whispers, trailing his hands up your bare skin, stopping at your face to caress your cheeks. He places a soft kiss on your temple, keeping his deep, languid pace inside of you. “I love you so much.”

You squirm underneath him, gripping onto his broad shoulders even tighter as he continues to kiss your insides with his gorgeous cock. “Ken-”

“I know, baby. I know,” he shushes you, silencing your pleas with his mouth on yours. His kisses matched the romantic pace of his hips, pressing his lips onto yours with all the devotion in the world. “Just relax, my love. It’s all for you.”

Truly, you were the light of this man’s life. He doesn’t know what he’d do without you - without your voice, your eyes, your hair, your lips. You own him, body and soul.

As he continued to press into your guts, you felt your peak growing near. He knew. He always knew. Kento places his forehead on yours, letting his arms rest on either side of your head. The only sound in the room was the heavy breathing coming from the two of you, occasionally mixed in with soft moans or whines. His rosy tip repeatedly massaged your cervix, pushing so far into you that you swore you’d suffocate. Your body had memorized its shape, mapping out the delicious curve and prominent vein that ran underside it. Your husband was determined to make you feel divine.

Through the haze in your mind, you hear his velvety voice swim through your ears. “You’re so beautiful, darling - ugh - I can’t… I can’t believe I managed to spend all day a–away from you.”

He lets his head drop to the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking marks onto the skin. You let your fingers tangle in his honey blonde hair, gently tugging whenever he thrusts especially deep. “It’s okay, Ken… it’s all worth it. I love you.”

He shudders, and you feel his heavy cock twitch inside you. Unconsciously, he picks up the pace - going a little harder than before.

“Fuck… say that again. Tell me you love me, darling - ngh - please.”

“I love you,” you breathe, gasping and clawing at his back with every passionate thrust he makes inside of you. “I love you I love you I love you…!”

All you see as your orgasm crashes over you is white hot heat, blinding you to everything other than your handsome man. He arrives just seconds after you do, your bodies perfectly in sync as though you were made for each other. Kento showers you with kisses, pressing his lips to every available surface of your skin while he fucks his seed further into you. Maybe one day you’ll have a baby.

“Oh my god…” he’s breathless, coming down from the high that only you could give him. He slumps down, body resting on top of yours, not yet pulling out. Your arms stay tightly locked around his frame, hugging him impossibly closer to you while the two of you catch your breath. “You’re too good to me, my love. Such a beautiful woman.”

You giggle at his whispered praise, planting a kiss to his cheek. “Says you. I couldn’t have asked for a better lover than you, Kento.”

He felt like he was gonna die.

yayyy! day 1 of kinktober complete!

You weren't sure what to expect when the bottle landed on you. Hell, you weren't even sure why you agreed to play this game. The only person you knew at this party was the host, Shoko. She briefed you earlier on some of her friends who'd be attending - including the guy who just spun the bottle - but you weren't really listening. You recognized him, though. There wasn't anyone else here with white hair and a blindfold.

"Guess it's you two," some guy said. "Have fun."

You shrugged and made your way to the empty closet where you'd be spending your 'seven minutes in heaven'... with Gojo Satoru. You had heard of his reputation of being somewhat of a ladykiller, but you'd rather see for yourself.

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the closet, but it was still cramped. After the door closed, the only light illuminating the shadows was the one peeking from underneath the door. The two of you sat silently for a minute, since you didn't really know each other at all.

"So... you're stuck with me, hm?" he grinned slightly in the dark space. He sat crisscross maybe three feet in front of you.

"I guess." you say, crossing your arms. "You're stuck with me, too."

He chuckled a little. "Yeah, you don't look bad though." His eyes were glued to you, although you couldn't really tell due to his blindfold. Even still, you could feel the weight of his stare - as if he was analyzing you. He uncrosses his long legs, stretching them out to either side of you.

"You're a fucking tower." you comment, keeping a playful tone to try and lighten the awkward mood.

He laughs. "Yeah, I guess so. You ever played this before?"

You shake your head. "Nah, but I know what it's about. It's just a little weird sitting here with a stranger."

Satoru nods understandingly. "Yeah, this game gets a little awkward when you're stuck with someone as stunning as me." he teased.

"Oh fuck off." you laugh, nudging his leg. "You aren't nearly as attractive as you think you are."

He gasps dramatically before letting out a little "hmph!" and pouting. You roll your eyes with a smile. "I mean, you aren't ugly - just don't get cocky. It's not about that."

He regains his smirk. "If it isn't my charming good looks, then what's got you so uncomfortable, hm?"

"I dunno, it's just weird. Being in a cramped closet with someone I barely know isn't exactly my idea of fun. No offense."

"None taken, sweetheart." he leans forward, now only about a foot away from you. "Why'd you even come to this party, then?"

You shrug, "Well, I know Shoko. But other than that, I don't really know anyone here. I only know who you are because she's talked about you."

Satoru's eyebrows raise in curiosity. "Oh?" he tilts his head with a bit of a smirk. "What has she said about me?"

"Nothing special. Just that you're annoying." you watch as he gasps once more, leaning back and feigning offense. His theatrics make you giggle - just a little.

"How rude, you don't even know me! You're not even giving me a chance."

"Do I need to?" you tease, crossing your arms over your chest. "I think your behavior right now says enough."

He huffs and there's a brief pause. You study his face, well, as much as you can in the dark. His outfit is pretty bland other than the fabric partially covering his face. "What's with that blindfold anyway? Can you even see through that thing?"

"Yeah, I can see just fine." he reaches up to adjust it, fidgeting with the cotton a bit as he speaks. "Why? Do you think it looks stupid?"

You shake your head. "No, it looks fine. I just don't see the point. If you're as hot as you think you are, I don't see why you'd want to hide your eyes from people."

"Well not everyone can handle seeing these beauties." he grins, leaning back in to where he was before.

"Yeah? Why don't you take it off, then? Lemme see for myself."

He laughs, accepting the challenge. "How impatient. You just can't wait to see how gorgeous my eyes are, huh?" He slowly lifted his blindfold off of his head with his long, slender fingers. His vibrant blue eyes pierced through yours, even in the dark. They were pretty, sure, but nothing too crazy.

"Cute." you say once you're satisfied with examining his face. "Although I'm still not sure why you wanted to hide them."

As embarrassing as it was to admit, Gojo's heart skipped a few beats when you called him cute. He'd been described by a variety of things before: handsome, hot, sexy, etc. But being called 'cute' was new. He huffed again, disappointed with your underwhelming response to his beautiful face. He shifted a little closer to you, dropping the blindfold beside him. "Just cute? Nothing else?"

The wall behind you stopped you from leaning back, keeping the distance between you two as minimal as possible. "Yeah, just cute." You see him grin slyly, and you raise an eyebrow. "Wanna tell me why you've decided to get so close?"

"Just wanted to get a closer look at you, that's all." His head was tilted as he took in your features again. You just kept getting prettier - and the sass didn't help. He reached out and booped your nose. "You're pretty cute, too."

You boop him back. "Thanks." a small laugh escapes you, leaving behind a smile. You take a glance at your phone. "Only a few minutes left, then we can get out of this closet."

He got all pouty, using his newly-revealed eyes to enhance the effect. "Aw, why do you wanna get out so fast? It was just getting fun."

"Because that's the game, Gojo." you laugh. "We only have seven minutes, not that hard to understand. Not like there's anything to do in here anyway."

He scooted closer once more, his knees knocking into yours, leaving only a few inches between you two. "Well... there's always one thing we could do," he mumbled, a smirk on his face.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"Oh, c'mon, don't be dense. You're smart enough to figure it out." Satoru's tone was low, his eyes drifting down your face.

"Maybe." Of course you knew what he was implying - you knew what this game was about when you agreed to play it. But you wanted him to cut the act and stop playing coy. "But you gotta say it, or else I'm not doing anything."

"You want me to say it out loud, hm?" his smile widened and his knee now slotted between your legs.

"Yup. Or we aren't getting anywhere. Say it with your chest."

Gojo rolled his eyes, but your stubbornness amused him. He tilted his head, his lips now just barely ghosting over your ear. "I wanna kiss you," he whispered, trying to keep his composure so as not to sound desperate. "But you're making it very difficult to do so."

That earns a giggle from you. "Aw, poor you." You grab his jaw and shift his head so that he's looking at you directly. His eyes widen, going speechless for a moment. "I guess we'll just have to fix that, hm?" you hum, giving him the same smirk he's been giving you this whole time.

You plant a small kiss on his cheek before pulling away again. He froze with surprise. He tried to regain his composure, but he couldn't hide the small rosy hue that now dusted his cheeks. "You're such a tease, damnit."

"Do something about it, then."

Satoru was getting tired of this game. He mirrored your action, grabbing your chin. He pulled you closer and crashed his lips into yours. You met his affection with equal fervor, quickly sliding your arms around his neck and crawling into his lap. He hummed into the kiss, your mouths embracing like they were specifically molded for one another. You couldn't lie, despite how annoying he was, Satoru Gojo was an incredible kisser. What you didn't know was that he was thinking the same thing about you.

He groans as you run your hands along his neck, all the way up to his undercut. Your hips grind down onto his lap and the two of you make out with the rush of a couple of inexperienced teenagers. Satoru's hands find your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him while your tongues meld together.

Much to your dismay, just as your kiss was starting to heat up into something better, the door swung open - the hallway light cascading into the room.

"Time's up, lovebirds!"

sorry for ending it LMAO

Sigh. "You don't have to do this, darling. I'm not some sort of child in need of coddling."

Despite his standoffish tone, Astarion makes no attempt to move away as you tend to the cuts on his arm. It had been a long day of adventuring, and your party most unfortunately ran into a horde of goblins on your way back to camp for the knight. Being stronger after a recent feed, Astarion fought most of them - giving him the most injuries.

You're being far too gentle. He watches closely in the dim lantern light as you wet the rag for cleaning. A part of him wishes you'd just hurt him instead. He knows how to deal with pain. He doesn't know how to deal with this.

Whatever this is, his mind tells him it needs to stop. Stop before he starts to care. He doesn't want to care about you. If he does, you'll be another thing for Cazador to use against him when the time comes.

He can't have that.

"Oh, shut up." you wave a dismissive hand before resuming your cleaning, gently wiping away the dirt and grime from his wounds. You sat comfortably in his lap as you worked. Another form of intimacy he was unsure about.

"I've received worse and lived, love. I'll be alright without your babying."

He would never admit it, but Astarion almost... enjoyed the way you so carefully tended to him. But it felt wrong. Why would you do this? It wasn't like his life was on the line, the goblins only inflicted minor injuries.

"I know you have, I've seen the poem that... he carved into your back. You showed me, remember?"

Astarion winces at the memory, and you feel sort of bad for bringing it up. But he just rolls his eyes, covering up the discomfort with a scoff.

That wretched devil. That evil, evil man.

"We're still travel companions, so I want to help you. Regardless of how minor it is." you continue, speaking slowly as you bandage up the cuts.

"Because I'm incapable?" there's a bite to his voice, one that he didn't mean to be there. But he couldn't help it. This was so... odd. "I managed to take care of myself just fine before you came along."

You look up at him, almost with a glare at his accusation. "I never said you were incapable, 'Starion. But you have to let others help you once in a while."

Gods, he hated it. He hated how caring you were, how sweetly you spoke to him, even when he was rude. How fondly you pictured him in your mind, even when he had done nothing but manipulate you so far.

How could you he so naive? He was obviously using you. And yet, you seemed to care about him, which pissed him off more.

He doesn't deserve someone as tender as you. As kind and caring.

Astarions grits his teeth as he speaks. "I don't have to let you do anything. I don't deserve that."

Why did he say that? How stupid of him so seem so vulnerable around you. And why does he want to curl up against you and let it all out? Why does he want you to wrap him up in your arms and whisper into his hair and tell him everything is going to be okay?

What is wrong with him?

You wrap up his cut tightly, giving him a glare. "You're wrong." you replied, short and direct. Your stare made it clear that this wasn't up for debate.

"You deserve just as much as everyone else. If not more, given what you've been through."

Astarion glares right back. If there was one thing he could do, it was argue. "You know nothing about me. I barely even told you half of it."

You don't know why he has to be so stubborn about this. Maybe it's his nature. Or maybe he's just too much of a coward to admit that he's actually starting to develop feelings for you. Astarion doesn't know which.

"I'm objectively the worst person on this team. You should be helping the others. Lae'zel got all scratched up too, you know."

"They've got each other." you argue back, just as stubborn as the elf. "But you, you've closed yourself off from everyone. Shut them out."

"If I don't take care of you, no one will. The Hells know that you wouldn't take care of yourself, either. You're too self-loathing for that."

When the hell did you become so perceptive? How in the world did you come to that conclusion? He wasn't self hating, he was just telling the truth. He was awful, evil. He knew it to be true.

...

Shit. Maybe you were right.

"Fine. Maybe your words have some truth in them." he sighs, not daring to look you in the eyes as he admits it. "You're right. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Damn it. Now he wants to hug you. The feeling he's been trying to avoid the entire time is bubbling up, threatening to engulf him.

Does it make him weak to want to be coddled and comforted by you? Would it make him just as pathetic as he was under Cazador's thumb? Would allowing himself this pampering, this affection, be nothing more than something to regret?

"I'm always right." you scoff. "You'd have picked up on that by now if you weren't so aloof."

You slide off of his lap once you're done bandaging, giving him some space. But you don't leave his tent.

You stay there, sitting in front of him, as a silent show of solidarity. "I'm not going anywhere. No matter how much you try to push me away."

The urge to pull you close and never let you go is overwhelming him. Astarion's not sure if he can trust himself to resist it.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks quietly, lowering his head a bit shamefully. "Why are you so insistent on helping me? I'm not worth it."

"Because you are worth it. And I won't stop until you believe it."

"I will not allow you to fall into tragedy when you can be so much more than that. I've seen your potential - on the battlefield and in camp. I refuse to let you waste your life in solitude."

Astarion wants to believe you. Desperately.

The evidence is staring him right in the face: the way that you care for him, how he feels secure in your presence.

But if he believes you, he can't hide any longer. He can't seek shelter behind the walls he's carefully erected within himself. And he can't shield himself from the vulnerability of admitting that he needs you. So instead he just says:

"Shut up."

You sigh. No matter how much you try to break him down, he stays persistent. "Fine."

"I'll stop talking, but you'd be a fool if you think I'm leaving."

He scoffs. "So what, you're just going to sit there and watch me all night?"

"If that's all you'll allow me, yes."

Allow. Such a sacred, unheard word to him.

Astarion didn't even have a response to that. In the end, he didn't have enough energy to make a snarky counter. And before he can form a coherent sentence and protest, his body makes a decision for him.

The elf slumps forward and places his head in your lap, curling up in a way that resembles a kitten. A stray seeking shelter.

Despite his efforts of stubborness, he closes his eyes and lets his body go slack.

He wants this.

You're relieved. For a moment, you sit still, not wanting to scare him away with any sudden movements. He needed this peace, and you wouldn't dare take it from him.

Slowly, you start to rake your fingers through his curls. Slowly, gently. Like a mother comforting her child.

He needs it. More than ever.

When you begin to run your fingers through his hair, it's like all his defenses dissolve away. Astarion lets out a quiet hum of contentment and presses his head further into your warmth, making himself as comfortable as possible in this precious moment.

Time seems to slow down as you sit there. There's no need for words. After so long of being taken and abused by his master, Astarion finds himself oddly calm. Safe.

It's strange to feel this comfortable. Even now he should have to urge to try and escape your touch, but he's not feeling those impulses.

He takes a deep breath and relaxes into your touch. The tension and discomfort that seemed to define his existence is melting away. For the first time in centuries, he feels he's where he belongs.

As you continue to pet his hair, you hear a quiet whisper come from your companion.

"It's good enough, I guess."

Miguel just finished typing up a biology essay for you, his eyes slightly hazy from staring at a laptop for the past 2 hours. You were standing in front of your floor-length mirror, getting ready for the frat party you were planning on attending.

It took everything in his power not to stare at your body. The way the skimpy, black dress hugged your curves was a mouthwatering sight. Your freshly curled hair fell neatly over your shoulders, allowing Miguel perfect vision of your skin under your backless outfit.

His heart is racing faster than ever before as he watches you from the corner of his eyes. He places his laptop back in his backpack, before deciding that he has to say something.

He has to.

"You look... good" he manages to whisper out, half-hoping that you didn't hear it.

"Thanks." it was almost a mindless reply, like you weren't paying much attention to him. "Now get the fuck out."

"W-wait a second," Miguel suddenly gathers some courage as you brush aside his compliment. He knew you were somewhat of a mean girl, but he wanted to see this transaction through. "I... I deserve something - payment for finishing your homework for you."

You turn your head around to look at him, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yeah?" There's a bit of intrigue in your voice, but you're still harsh. He watches as you cross your arms and look at him in a demeaning fashion. It wasn't often that this nerd got the confidence to ask for any sort of reward. "And what exactly do you want? I'm not giving you money."

Miguel is a little shocked that you were willing to hear him out. "I-I'm sorry... I'm just..." He sighs cautiously.

You stare impatiently. He hesitates before forcing out his next words. "I just... I really like the way you look and-" his voice shakes when he notices the rude stare you're giving him. But he won't give up.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Just- you know, for doing your essay for you?" just as quickly as the words leave his mouth, he covers his face in shame. You laugh a bit at how dumb his request is.

"That's it?"

Miguel lowers his hands to look up at you. You can see the embarrassment painted all over his face. "You got all shy just to ask for a kiss?"

Your expression calmed and you relaxed your body language. He looked humiliated, feeling stupid for even asking that from someone as stunning and popular as you.

"Fine. C'mere." you wave him over dismissively.

He's taken by surprise, but doesn't hesitate to cross the room and approach you. His heartbeat is racing faster than ever before. Despite how he towers over you by almost a foot, he's staring down at you with doe eyes, like a lost puppy.

I can't believe I'm doing this.

You raise your hands to gently cup his cheeks, then bring his face in for a small kiss. Miguel's heart leaps into his throat when your lips make contact. It's so casual for you, but it's everything for him. A wave of euphoria washes over him, it's almost too overstimulating - to know he's finally able to kiss you.

He moans quietly and leans forward, trying to deepen the kiss. His mind races, his head spins. He's so giddy that he feels like he's going to die. All he wants now is more... so much more.

Your hands find his chest, pushing him back. His eyes shoot wide as you break the kiss.

"There. You got your reward. Happy?" Your hands rest on your hips while you speak nonchalantly.

"Y-yeah... super happy..." he chuckles nervously and runs his hands through his messy hair. It was kinda hot.

"Can I... can you do that again?"

"No, you've had enough." You return to your mirror, adjusting the little details of your outfit. "You got what you wanted. Now get the fuck out of my room."

"What?" despite how you were typically mean to him, he seemed to be surprised by that. "You can't... just be heartless like that."

That struck a nerve with you. "Heartless? You're calling me heartless?" There's a desperate look in his eyes, but you can tell that he doesn't have much courage to push the issue further. After all, he's just a nerd. But he can't shake the feeling your kiss gave his mind, his heart, his stomach, his cock...

"I did everything you wanted - I did your homework. I want something more... please." His body language shows that he's almost afraid of you and your dominatrix attitude. "Please, just one more."

"God, you're so pathetic..." you sigh, shaking your head. You can't help but laugh at his desperation - he clearly has never touched a woman in his life.

"Please..." he begs once more. "I want it more than anything..."

Something in his voice sends electricity up your spine. This is much more entertaining than that dumb party. "Mm, yeah? More than anything?"

You shove him back, causing him to stumble and fall onto your bed, his back making a thud on your mattress. "I don't think you deserve it, Miguelito... you haven't done anything for it."

His heart leaps into his throat. "I... I'll do anything. Please..."

"I want you to do something for me..." you grin with lowered eyes. "Can you guess what it is?"

"I don't know... I'm nervous." he didn't know what you meant. It made you roll your eyes. I mean come on, he was laying on your bed, with you practically on top of him - how could this dweeb not get the message?

You slap him across the cheek, hard. His cock twitches when he feels the sting, causing his cheeks to burn up in embarrassment. "You want another kiss? You have to earn it."

"Make me feel good."

---------------------------

He lets out a pathetic whimper when you sit on his dick, still clothed by his boxers. You haven't even started moving yet and he's already turning to mush. Virgin loser.

He watches anxiously as you reach for the elastic waistband of his underwear, sexily pulling them off. Fuck. What a sight. Proportionally, his dick is a pretty average size. But there was no way that it would fit all the way in.

A mean smirk forms on your lips as you stare at his boner, palming him gently and eliciting a frustrated whine from Miguel. "Your dick is so fucking pretty..." you mumble. "I don't know why you're so shy about it."

"Wait, re-really? You think so?" no one had ever seen his dick before, let alone call it pretty. His breathing shallowed.

"Mhm." Miguel whimpers again when you begin to stroke him, coating his entire shaft with all the precum he's releasing. "Aww, you poor thing..."

"You're already so whiny and I'm barely even touching you. You're such a baby."

"Please..." he breathes out.

"Please what? Use your words, baby." you don't call him "baby" as a pet name, you're mocking him. He tries to hide his face from you, but you grab his chin and pull it towards you so that you two make direct eye contact.

"Tell me what you want."

"You want me to use you, hm? You wanna be my little sex toy?"

Yes. Yes. Yes. He'd love that.

"Yes... please..." he whispers. He desperately needs your attention, so he'll take anything he can get. He'll be your toy, your lap dog, anything you want him to be. All those nights where he laid in bed alone, jerking off to the thought of someone wanting him, was finally becoming a reality.

Miguel's eyes shoot wide when he sees you lift up your dress, letting your panties drop to the floor. The frat party was long forgotten by you, since this was so much more fun.

"You wanna kiss me, yeah?" You smirk, crawling further onto him. His hardened cock leaks with pre, making you giggle a bit.

You hover over his face. "Then kiss me here."

----------------------------------------

He eats you like a man starved, needy for attention. Your hips roll firmly against his face, his mouth closing around your clit and suckling on it.

"Fuck- Miguel... so good." the nerd groans when your nails scrape at his scalp, gripping his dark hair tightly. His tongue explores every inch of your cunt, leaving behind traces of saliva as he licks and kisses the sensitive flesh.

Miguel feels his entire body tingle with joy. He's so excited to be pleasing you, to prove how good he is for you, that he's completely ignored his own needs. Lucky for him, the sound of your sweet moans are enough to get him off.

His hands grip your hips hard, pulling your wet cunt closer to his face as he feasts. His hands were sure to leave bruises later.

"Mm, god... yes..." he mumbles, the vibrations of his voice making your pussy throb even more. You grind against his face even more feverishly.

"Mig, I'm-" you sigh, trying to contain your moans as he gets more excited with his ministrations. "... 'm so fucking close, baby."

His hands run all over your hips and thighs, worshipping you like the goddess he thinks you are. His dick twitches some more, and his tongue becomes more furious around your hole.

"Mm- fuck!" you let out an unexpected wail as you feel your orgasm wash over you, your mind clouded with white. He eagerly laps up all of your juices, drinking in all of your release.

When you pull away from his face, you notice that he came too.

Miguel snaps back to reality after a moment, his cheeks flushing in a sort of embarrassment. He looks so fuckin' pretty. His hair is all messy, glasses discarded to the side, and of course, your sweet cum coating his puffy lips.

After you've caught your breath, you flash him a wicked smirk. He looks at you in panic. "Wh-What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

You sink down on the bed, lowering your face towards his cock - which was dripping with his release. His face looks worried, he knows what you're doing.

"Since you've been so good for me," you start, letting your lips hover just above his aching cock. "I figured I'd help you out too. It's only fair..."

He was gonna be in for a long night.

Poor little thing. Such a sweet boy.

"You gonna hurry up with that muffin, or are you gonna keep me here all night?" you ask from behind the counter, hands on your hips. he looked over from the table he was sitting at and just flashed you a smirk. you two were the only people here, given that it was almost 11pm and completely dark outside.

"Oh, you know me," he said turning in his seat to face you. "Never one to rush, always want to savor my meal." he gave you a little wink, and you rolled your eyes.

"Whatever, take as long as you want, I'm gonna clean up for closing." you pulled a broom from the corner and started sweeping the little crumbs in your kitchenette, while Miguel went back to "savoring" his chocolate muffin.

The door to the building swung open. "Nobody move!"

You were frozen in your place, almost dropping the broom. A large man, though not as large as Miguel, dressed in dark sweats was aiming a gun at you, with a fierce look in his eyes.

Great, now you're being robbed.

You carefully set the broom down at your feet, and hold your hands up. The retail counter did very little to make you feel safe from the intruder. "Listen, I don't know what you want from me, okay? If you're looking for money, I don't have any. Nobody really pays in cash these days and-"

"Just shut up and empty the register!"

You were quick to do as he said, even though robbing a small cafe in the 21st century didn't seem very profitable - you didn't say anything though, out of fear of being shot. You gathered all the money from the cash register, pulling out a hundred dollars or so in change. "Do... do you want it in a bag?" you asked, visibly sweating.

The man shook the gun in front of your face. "Just give me the damn money! And don't you dare try to call the cops, I'll shoot 'ya right where you stand, lady."

Unfortunately for him, the intruder was too distracted by getting the cash from you that he didn't notice the large delinquent behind him, holding a fire extinguisher above his head.

With a loud WHACK the intruder fell to the ground, dropping his gun in the process. Miguel stood above him, glaring down at the unconscious man, who now definitely had a concussion. The look in Miguel's eyes was something you had never seen before, well, except for that other time he happened to save you.

He placed the fire extinguisher on the counter and looked towards you. "You alright, chiquita?" he asked, although before you could answer, he reached over the counter to grab some ribbon.

"You tie up your little goodie bags with these, right?" you nod. He takes a few handfuls of the blue ribbons and makes quick work wrapping them in knots around the robber's wrists. Miguel kicks the weapon away. "These aren't exactly handcuffs, but they'll work for the time being. Call the cops, bonita. I'll make sure he doesn't get up." Miguel gives you a reassuring smile, before kneeling down in front of the man.

Red and blue lights fading away told you that the cops had successfully restrained the armed intruder and were on their way to detain him. You had stepped out from behind the counter and slumped down on the floor in front of it, leaning your head back against it. Miguel chuckles as you sigh, and he sits down next to you.

"That was not how I expected the night to end." you huffed, rubbing your temples in exhaustion. He flashed you a knowing smirk. "Oh? And how did you expect it to end, hermosa? ¿Querías hacer el amor conmigo, hmm?" you scoffed as he gave your shoulder a little nudge.

"Don't even go there, that's not what I was talking about, chulo." you huff once more, earning another laugh from him. "What I meant was I wasn't expecting to get robbed today."

"Almost robbed, guapa. I saved you, just like last time."

You smirk. "Yes, just like last time."

You both share a look, one that reveals your growing feelings for one another. Your heart was beating rapidly. You knew where this was going.

"So, is my damsel gonna give me the same reward as last time? Or, are my heroics undeserving of praise?" you bite your lip, and he leans in closer. So close, in fact, that his arm was rubbing up against yours - the tattooed skin heavily contrasting your blank canvas.

"Hmm, it depends. I don't really wanna walk all the way home..." a mischievous look shines in your eyes, and this time it's his heart that pounds. "Will you carry me?"

Another one of his laughs. "No, chica, I won't carry you... we can have our fun right here."

Oh.

Oh.

>:)