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satorhime · 2 years ago

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on the ground ˚₊· gojo satoru + nanami kento. ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : : f!reader, explicit smut, threesome + cuckholding, reader n gojo r in an established relationship, public foreplay (on an empty train), oral sex (m + f receiving), face sitting, spanking, degradation, teasing, praise, fingering, handjobs, double penetration (sort of), unprotected sex, size kink, creampie, cum play, squirting, snowballing, messy nasty smut w / lots of pet names lol ･｡･ w.c. 15.6k.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis & notes : nanami is awarded his apology, and more. part two of off the table, but can be read as a standalone. + ໒꒰ྀི ⸝⸝⸝⸝ ꒱ྀིა ⊹ omg omg i finally, FINALLY completed this fic. i struggled a lot with the direction i wanted this story to go in, but i'm finally satisfied and can share it with everyone. i hope you enjoy it & expect errors because it's an absolute chunk of words. thank u 2 @fushisslut for beta reading <333

nanami kento is out of his mind.

you see, he must be. that’s the only reasonable explanation for his behavior tonight. when people perceive him, they see him as a stable man with a level head on his shoulders. they take in the pristine cut of his designer suits, the glimmer of his luxury wristwatch, and they can’t help but see the prime example of a professional jujutsu sorcerer. his technique isn’t a lightshow to impress others, but consists of preordained, calculated mathematics for him to achieve the best results in a fight. even the higher ups trust him more because they’re soothed by his polite speech, strategic outlook, and solid reliability— because he can be summed up into one safe, khaki-colored box that will never pose a threat to their way of order, even if he disagrees with it.

normal. standard. boring.

but every sorcerer has a flaw, a trigger nestled deep inside of them just waiting to spring them into insanity. it can be anything, really— a fight with a formidable opponent or your favorite coffee shop getting your morning order wrong on a bad day. nanami’s own flaw is a crack in the perfect design of his foundation that can be exploited way too easily if you know where to look for it.

and gojo satoru knows the exact location.

while nanami has tried his best to ignore the tension crackling like a steady current between you and him, satoru sees everything. his crush on you is obvious though. written all over his handsome expression when you simply smile at him or your shoulders brush in a crowded meeting room and nanami makes the mistake of looking down to snap at you to give him space, only to be enraptured by the sight of your pretty face and lower, the print of your cute little nipples pressing through the thinner fabric of your tight sorcerer’s uniform. his ears pinkening up like strawberry syrup swirled on top of milk.

the fact that he jolts awake almost every night from wet dreams about you, cock dripping wet in his briefs can’t be written on his face, but it happens. making him feel adolescent, green as fresh grass, when he has to slip a hand into his underwear and fuck against his dry palm with your name whispered desperately on his tongue until he cums, messy and full of shame, all over his belly.

nanami kento’s weakness is a woman off limits.

perhaps gojo should feel possessive and territorial that another man has such blatant feelings for his pretty girlfriend, but gojo feeds it like cupid with a heart-shaped arrow. only feeling like a winner in the long game he plays. and tonight, well, tonight is living proof of that.

right now, you’re strolling ahead of nanami with gojo’s long arm thrown lazily around your shoulders. the three of you are heading leisurely towards the train station, as if you’re like everyone else out on a weekend night— casual colleagues walking home together after a boring company outing.

the city at this hour is alive, a kaleidoscope of movement and bright, twinkling energy. usually, nanami would enjoy a walk like this under the starlit night, tilt his head up and inhale the fresh breeze as he walks the long way home to unwind after a long shift but he just can’t, not tonight. not when he’s strung out and so fucking hyperfocused on your every move. not when the noise from the neon billboards flash loud advertisements, bustling shopfronts, and drunken giggles from twenty-somethings stumbling out of upscale bars washes away all rational thought from nanami’s skull until all he can think about is you.

it’s humiliating. his self-control over his own actions is usually adamant, an indomitable shell around his being that should have kept him from giving in to his desire to fuck all traces of gojo satoru from your body, but how can he really resist it? he should have known better than to get up from that table and follow the two of you home, but it’s too late to turn back now. especially when the colorful streetlights illuminate your frame to him, the late night breeze stirring the flowy hem of your expensive little cocktail dress— giving him a flash of the supple swell of your naked ass cheeks, panties still tucked away in gojo’s pocket.

gritting his teeth, nanami tries to look away but he’s locked in. picking up on the slight limp in your walk instead— no doubt from the rough way gojo fingerfucked you under the table earlier. the memory of desperate tears glazing over your big doe eyes as you pleaded for them both, begging nanami to give you permission to cum, twists a serrated knife into the mass of hot arousal already simmering in the pit of his gut.

you’ve got him entranced, just like that, staring at the soft jiggle of your ass until gojo notices and kisses his teeth, smoothing the hem of your dress down in mock chivalry as he glances back at nanami with a bright sparkle in his quicksilver blue eyes, blackout sunglasses slid low on his pretty nose and grinning with those fanged incisors gleaming in the moonlight like a predator.

god, nanami hates the way his mouth runs dry at that look.

“it’s just like old times, eh?”

gojo leers out as soon as the three of you pile onto the train. his crude vocals are too loud, slashing through the quiet to bounce against the big metal walls. blinding fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting an eerie green glow.

“i don’t know what you’re referring to, gojo-san,” nanami lies breezily, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate the headache forming behind his brow at the teasing sound of gojo’s voice. “if you could please be quiet now.”

oh, but nanami knows exactly what the other man is referring to, doesn’t he? the unique moments in life when gojo satoru and nanami kento operated on the same wavelength. younger days before nanami left for university abroad at copenhagen, drunken nights in the dorm at jujutsu high after tough missions. dares and childish games that led to beer-flavored spit swapped between giggling peers. a lost bet. nanami never backing down from a challenge. suguru dutifully filming with a cracked flip phone as gojo mouthed down the length of nanami’s cock—

he was a madman for playing gojo satoru’s games then, and he definitely is one now.

“what’s like old times?” you pipe up with a question, breaking through nanami’s thoughts. your head bobbles between the two men rudely leaving you out of the conversation, confusion wrinkling your pretty features. “what are you two whispering about?”

nanami grits his jaw, refusing to elaborate, but gojo huffs out the beginning of a chuckle and parts his lips to answer you. be it for dick, pussy, or spilling secrets better left buried, he can never keep his mouth shut, can he?

“mmm, nothing you need to worry that pretty head about tonight, angel,” he shrugs, a lazy smirk settling on his pink lips. the threads of patronization laced through his words makes you even more curious, though. “we’re just reminiscing.”

his long arm curves around your neck after that, tugging you towards him. bending his head down to press his nose against your hair affectionately, breathing in the scent of your shampoo in a gentle kiss obviously meant to disarm your questions.

and of course, it doesn’t work.

“oh, i see,” you nod, like you’ve cracked the code. eyes fluttering down into narrowed slits at the both of them. “you two shared many women before like this, have you? is that what you’re talking about?”

it doesn’t sound like an accusation. after all, you know how experienced your boyfriend’s appetite is, but the words come out a little more bitter than you intend. satoru quirks a snowy brow, still gleaming his signature grin. how would you react if you knew their truth, their history?

“we have not,” that was kento, finally speaking up to clarify when it’s his reputation on the line, earnestly hoping that you’ll drop the subject.

“but we’ve shared each other,” and that was satoru, cupping his hand to your ear like he’s spilling a juicy little scandal.

“o-oh-”

whatever answer you expected, it wasn’t that.

your mouth opens to ask another question, but a safety recording cuts the conversation short before the train lurches forward, speeding out of the station. soon, you’re out in the city— skyscrapers and bright lights blurring past the windows at breakneck speed.

gojo’s cue now that you’re temporarily sealed away from civilization.

he leans against a pole, smirking against your hair. his hand caresses a path down your front slowly, and you momentarily forget how to breathe, sucking in your tummy because it’s starting again— his nasty fucking game.

and for the first time, there is a third player.

“remember the last time you tired putting your hand up my skirt on a train, gojo satoru?” you remind him as his hand begins to slither into the cleavage of your dress, disappearing under the fabric to shamelessly cup one of your breasts, giving it a gentle knead and making you bite down on a gasp. “not to mention, there’s cctv right there-”

“how was i supposed to know there was an officer right across from us?”

“you literally have the six eyes, satoru.”

“shut up.” he huffs. “what are you so worried for anyway? we’re alone, and that guy won’t tell anyone what we’ve been up to. he wants you just as much as i do, right nanamin?”

“i was under the impression you invited me back to your home, not to get arrested,” nanami retorts dryly, but his tone is a complete contradiction to the look in his honey brown eyes. he is staring across the train car at you with so much open lust, his intensive gaze simmers heat all the way underneath the surface of your skin, making you squirm even more. it’s that look in his eyes alone, like he wants to ruin you for your own boyfriend, that makes each move of gojo’s a little more than proprietorial. a farewell to his darling baby before he auctions you up for the taking.

only, he surely intends on taking you back at the end of the night because you belong to him. but only after he checks off a certain box— after he burns the vision of you getting fucked on another man’s cock while he watches into his temporal lobe.

“i’m not worried about nanami-san,” you frown, rolling your eyes, “i’m worried about the cctv.”

“i’ll handle it,” he promises, his voice dark and low. he kisses your ear with a whisper that sends a hot shudder down the curve of your spine. “why don’t you go and greet nanami properly while i do, sweet girl? he’s over there all by himself.”

your head whips around, eyes wide at his suggestion. nothing can really surprise you about the six-foot-three smirking egomaniac you’re dating at this point. that limp in your walk, the cooling slick still coating your sticky thighs from your last orgasm, and your missing pair of ruined panties are a testament to his want to fuck you in every location, in every way possible. to etch his mark into the world that stands at his feet, one drop of cum at a time.

even if it means offering you up to nanami kento like a sacrificial lamb plump and ready for the slaughter.

and you? you’re perfectly fine with being a sacred contribution left at his alter.

“or are you scared?” gojo wonders, glancing over at the other man.

it’s not just a meaningless taunt. both you, and nanami can hear the weight behind the question. it’s a chance to back out. a consent form. he may be a greedy, overpowered sorcerer with an insatiable love for dirty fucking but he respects nanami, and he respects you above all else. you’re the love of his life, a little piece of his soul living outside of his body, and he knows how many steps he can take outside of the box before he runs into boundaries. and though you never back down from one of his challenges, though your mind is honey coated in lust, you lift your gaze to the ex-salaryman and you consider him, one final time.

anyone with a pair of eyes can appreciate the beauty in nanami kento. he is all sharp contours and deep tenor. timeless handsomeness that reminds you of an old money heartthrob from the sixties, or a classic comic book hero. nanami may be the complete opposite of your boyfriend, austere and jaded, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him, that you did not enjoy the steadiness of conversations with him and the few, ill-delivered dry jokes he indulges in from time to time. perhaps it was the throb in your clit convincing you, or the memory of him demanding you be a good girl and cum for them both back at the restaurant, but god, you fucking wanted him.

no, you wanted them both, and you would deal with your shame for it in the daylight hours.

“don’t you know me at all, gojo satoru?” you finally break the silence with a confident smile, making gojo snort at you before he shoves you off the deep end— hands on your shoulders to nudge you into stepping across the train car until you stop in front of nanami.

he is the only one sitting down, watching you approach with that stoic expression of his. at first glance, he looks utterly unimpressed, but you should have known better as your legs bump his spread knees and you glance down, getting a glimpse of the outline of his hard cock bulging against the tight inseam of his khaki slacks.

your breath shortens into a needy pant. wondering what it would feel like weighing your tongue down after you’ve wriggled him out of that boring designer suit of his? or how much it would make your hips ache as it stretched your cunt out until you soak gojo’s expensive sheets down to the last thread?

warmth blooms over the skin of your cheeks as his sharp eyes follow your line of sight. he quirks an amused brow, catching your shameless stare locked on his lap. he barely shifts under the attention, no slouch in the posture he holds with an easy confidence. “didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to stare at a cock you don’t plan to sit on, young lady?”

“who says i don’t plan to sit on it, nanami-san?” you mouth off, even as your knees weaken under the weight of his authoritative tone. you hear gojo scoff in amusement, still leaning against that pole, arms still folded as he watches the scene unfold— playing out just how he wants it.

“you’re still standing, obviously,” he points out, and how he makes such simple words sound like honey spread over velvet you don’t know, but the deep, flat timbre of his monotone flutters a lick of arousal through your belly.

“do you want me to?”

“come here and sit, back facing to me,” he instructs, gesturing to his lap. he doesn’t even think about putting his hands on you, no matter how desperately he wants to, letting you build up the courage to obey someone new. instead, he unfastens the buttons on his blazer slow, one by one, before removing his goggles and tucking them away into an inner breast pocket. sandy hair tinted slightly green under the lighting in the train as he waits for you. it isn’t easy for him to fight the more reckless part of himself when you’re standing there, staring at him like this, and he’ll be ashamed tomorrow to say that he didn’t even try. “well?”

behind you, gojo wears a dangerous smirk. temple of his skull resting against the cold steel of the balance pole, content to watch his girlfriend climb into the lap of another man. you’re thankful that the subway car the three of you are in is deserted. you had kept your head down when satoru shamelessly flicked his wrist at the mechanical sliding doors as other passengers tried to board, slamming it shut in their confused faces and twisting the metal into a makeshift lock with cursed energy so that no one else is around to witness what you’re doing.

you settle until your back meets nanami’s firm chest, your heart beating erratically. the sorcerer’s muscled arm feels warm through the sleeves of his tailored jacket as he wraps it around your torso, pulling you securely against him. embarrassment makes you shy as you realize that you’re sitting on your coworker’s lap with no panties on underneath your dress, his wide stance forcing your thighs to spread— rucking your dress up past your hips and exposing your pretty pussy to gojo’s twinkling gaze.

“the cctv-”

gojo nods, and you whimper softly as he shifts to stand a little taller, smartly placing his massive stature in front of the camera embedded in the beam above your heads. “that’s that,” he claps, then he lifts a brow, “oi, oi. you gonna take all night? our stop is next.”

“not everyone is quick as you, gojo-san,” nanami snorts at his own little joke before he dips his head, pressing his nose to your pulse point. his eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he breathes in a gust of your perfume. scented like ruination, supple like forbidden fruit laid over his lap— he can’t resist pressing his lips to your neck first, his veined hand cupping your face, thick fingers curled under your chin to guide your head in his direction afterwards. “she deserves my patience.”

“tch.” gojo rolls his eyes.

nanami has always been a quiet man. he doesn’t speak unless spoken to and barely then, refusing to make idle small talk and declining offers to mingle after work with his colleagues, but you know what he wants without words. your own fingers move, brushing over the buzzed wisps of hair at the nape of his neck as he parts his lips. tender in the way he finally tastes you, in the way he suckles your plump lower lip into his mouth.

you’re unfamiliar, but your kiss feels decadent to him and already, he’s determined to learn you. how many times had he lost focus in a meeting, wondering how you would feel on his lips, his tongue, his cock? the blond sorcerer presses his thumb against the middle of your cheek, keeping your jaw parted so that he can pet his tongue over yours until you gasp desperately into his mouth.

the kiss is slower than what you’re used to, but nanami gives you passion, even though he’s a stranger to your body— a scene that your boyfriend watches with hungry, almost envious eyes. you can feel the burn of his stare from across the metal car. seeing you writhe all over his kouhai’s lap, twisting your fingers in his short hair, sucking his lower lip into your mouth, makes hot need churn in the pit of gojo’s gut to take his place.

he’s supposed to be blocking the cctv, but he can’t help it. before he knows it, he’s crossing the space of the train in a few strides, taking a seat next to you and nanami.

you jolt when you feel the familiar weight of satoru’s big hand splay out over your thigh. heart beating erratically. saliva coating your lips and you whine because you’re desperate for more, but you don’t have to wait long.

“my turn, sugar,” satoru grins, tucking a finger under your chin to pull your head away from nanami and towards him.

you go to him easily, no care at all that the security cameras are watching you bounce between the two men and their touches. letting your boyfriend smooth your hair away from your face before he cups your cheeks, sparks dancing down your spine as he kisses you insistently, urging you immediately into a hungrier slide of your lips against his own.

“oh,” you sigh, and satoru shushes you with his wet tongue between your lips. he loves tonguing you down, leaving you breathless with the hunger he feels for you. sweetness of the dinner wine he spit into your mouth earlier lingers in the kisses he gives you.

it’s easy to get lost in him, to bathe in the attention when someone like gojo satoru is willing to give it to you. you’re so lost in his kiss that you almost miss the sound of nanami’s sudden, muted groan; a needy throb pulsing between the seam of your cunt as you realize you’ve been squirming over his lap without meaning to, the hard weight of his clothed cock pressing snug between your bare ass cheeks, the tip rubbing against your clit.

“this isn’t the place for that. be still.”

“but i want to.”

nanami grunts in the back of his throat as you ignore him, plush hips swiveling down, grinding against the sensitive head of his cock beneath his khakis, his rough fingers squeezing your thigh desperately in reprimand.

“can’t handle her already, nanami?” gojo taunts in a drawl, redirecting his kisses down your neck affectionately so that nanami can claim your lips again. they’re swollen, bitten by kisses, strawberry rouge smudged and ruined as they build a routine, taking turns sharing your kiss, stealing the breath out of your lungs to draw into their own.

you know that comparisons are against the natural rules of a threesome, but you can’t help yourself. they touch you so differently, vintage and brand new— opposites like the burning rays of the summer sun and the cool beams of the moon during winter, but their intensity is the same.

satoru... satoru kisses like a man out of time because love has a habit of being snatched out of his hands, and life is fleeting in the world you live in and he needs to show you just how much he feels for you before it’s too late. he’s impatient and a little forceful, digging prints into your skin, leaving marks and love bites that sting in the aftermath— so you’ll never forget him, he thinks. he’s not shy, never ashamed to touch you in the middle of a crowd because your taste is just that fucking sweet to him and he won’t waste a minute of time he has with you. you can always feel his desperation, the urgency to prove his devotion embedded into each, skilled kiss.

and then there’s kento, who kisses like he’s stopping to appreciate a masterpiece in a museum. there should not be so much reverence in his touch, not when you belong to someone else and he’s just an extra in your movie, the thrill of the hour for a sexually adventurous couple— but he is unhurried and thorough in the face of your greediness. feeding you by hand what he wants you to have. if you surge forward to take what you want, he counters and nips the tip of your nose in a bite that startles you, that makes you giggle, leaving you soft as putty in his grasp. and when he kisses you . . . when he kisses you it feels like he alone can stop the hand of the clock itself. as if he’s got all the time in the world, even though he is a man who only has the pleasure of your body for one night.

if he can survive a train ride with you, that is.

“stop moving.”

“pretty please, nanami-san. i need jus’ a little... jus’-” you plea, and despite his warning, you plant your heels on the edge of the train seat. leverage to grind your pussy over the weighty print of his cock. back and forth, choking on little whines against nanami’s lips while satoru kisses at your collarbone and stares between your thighs. it’s frustrating to have nanami sitting there under you with a barrier in the way, the friction a tantalizing itch that makes you want to dissolve into sobs. you can hardly find it in yourself to care that you’re wetting the fabric of his pristine clothes with the sticky arousal dripping out of your little hole as you angle your hips down, dragging your clit over the cool zipper of his pants.

“you want it that badly? you’ll writhe all over my cock, on a train no less, with your boyfriend sitting right next to you? you should be ashamed,” nanami tuts, reeling back to press his voice to your ear. “but there, there. i’ll give you something proper to rub on.”

“that’s not fair ‘cause you told me to sit, mmfgh-” you pout in petulant protest, nanami’s words causing your skin to blister under the heat of them, but satoru cuts you off once more by suckling your lower lip, grinning a little when you choke on a whine.

though the ex-salaryman’s tone burns a lick of shame down your arching back, one of his hands hitch up to your breasts to soothe the sting, squeezing the soft flesh through the fabric of your silky dress. and then, his other hand fondles your thigh and you inhale because he’s so fucking close— rough, calloused fingers slipping along the joint of your hip to brush over your mound.

“here it is,” he announces, pressing his wet mouth to your cheek, reveling in the whimper you give him as he pushes a stiff thumb against your clit, pressing it down hard. keening, your hips twitch forward eagerly. his finger doesn’t offer much friction, but you rut against the palm anyway until he draws his middle finger down, spreading your folds and swirling an unhurried circle around your entrance, causing your breath to fan out of your chest in a rush. “don’t be shy about it. rub against my finger and let satoru watch.”

satoru isn’t interested in just watching though.

he takes your hand and guides it to his clothed crotch first, a ruined moan punching out of his chest when you immediately wrap your fingers around the outline of his cock. it’s hard against your palm, and though the angle is awkward, you make due; rubbing your hand over him until his hips jerk up off the seat. as a reward, you feel satoru’s index finger join kento’s between your thighs, rubbing figure eights into your wet, puffy clit. you have to squirm helplessly between the two men playing with you like a pretty doll. delighted sounds leaving gojo’s lips as he mouths at your breast, flicking his tongue over your clothed nipple until the front of your dress is damp with spit.

all three of you know that this is going too far. that the two men are devouring you in the middle of an empty train car, and you need to stop this before the security camera records any more of your sins. but how can you, when gojo pinches your clit at the same time nanami dips the very tip of his finger inside you, a low groan rumbling from his throat at the way you greedily squeeze around the thick digit, wanting to suck him in further. he clenches his jaw, staving off a groan. knowing you’ll feel so fucking heavenly around his cock when he spades you on it—

but just as the both of them are about to give you what you want, push two long fingers into your needy cunt, rub soreness into your clit until you cry, the train screeches to a slow, metallic stop at the next station. you startle, eyes flying wide open in mild panic as the doors prepare to slide open.

“oh, well, i do believe this is our stop,” satoru says nonchalantly like he’s back to pulling the strings, like he wasn’t about to fucking cry at being interrupted when all he wants to do is make you cum again. whistling the melody to one of your favorite songs as he dips in to press one last kiss to your cheek before he stands up, stretching his arms overhead to pop stiff joints. “if you two are finished giving the security guard material to fuck himself with during his shift, let’s go.”

the air is thick with cloying tension, oppressive enough that you can hear the ragged breathing from both sorcerers. once you exit the train, you know what’s waiting for you. your belly lurches in delicious anticipation at the mere thought of it.

gojo satoru fucks like a god and that’s when he is alone. his competitive streak will have him trying to ruin you, not satisfied until you’re fucked out and bruised and crying, with another man sharing the field. and nanami... nanami kento is an enigma, a paradox you could have never pictured agreeing to share a woman for the night with someone he is seemingly annoyed by all day, all night.

but proper, orderly men like him have a tendency of harboring the darkest desires of them all, and you have a feeling discovering what they are tonight means having trouble getting out of bed the next morning with stiff thighs and an aching cunt.

“are you alright?” nanami murmurs, as cordial as ever. he barely seems affected at all, except for the unsteady hitch in his breathing— and, of course, the fact that his cock is dripping uncomfortably wet against the too-tight fabric of his briefs. his hand abandons you, sliding around to smooth your dress down before he sets you to your feet on the floor.

nodding, you step forward on shaky legs, and satoru stretches out his hand for you to take. but before you follow him this time, through the automated doors and onto the platform, you look back and offer a hand to the 7:3 sorcerer with a grin that nanami knows you had to have picked up from satoru.

“coming, nanami-san?” you repeat gojo’s words from earlier, offering yourself up to them both for the night.

nanami huffs out a snort, glancing down at his fingers in consideration. the thick digits still glisten with your glossy cum under the fluorescents, the knot in his throat bobbing with starvation. he feels insane for crossing a boundary and getting involved with gojo satoru again (and now... now, you) but he’s lost all fucking sense, all self control at this point. any other day, he would be too dignified to even bring a woman home after a date but tonight, he raises his fingers to his mouth to suckle them clean without ever taking his eyes off of you before he dries them on a handkerchief, ever the gentleman. god, he wants to weep at the taste of your pussy on his tongue, but he stands to his full height and curls those long digits around your waiting hand instead.

“after you.”

gojo’s penthouse in shinjuku is dark and chilly when the three of you walk inside. nanami doesn’t pay much attention to the living space as he trades loafers for guest slippers with pandas printed on the top at the door, but he feels out of place when he finally does glance around.

nanami never had any reason to think about gojo satoru’s living situation or interior decorating skills, but he’s surprised at how... human it looks.

to him, gojo is a curse. a curse that he respects, tolerates, and trusts, but a thorn in his side nonetheless. it is a childish thought, but he had expected to find the space to be as annoying as he is during the day. though it was obviously a bachelor pad meant for a man who never intended on settling down, there are signs of you all over it, turning it into a real home.

he passes by polaroids decorated with stickers and framed photos of you with his students at the beach in okinawa, presumably snapped by satoru himself. pastel pillows and plushies mismatch with the cool design of deep sea blue and sleek black furniture. he has to avert his eyes with a disbelieving scoff when you hurry past him to snatch one of your bras off the back of the couch, as if you and your freak of nature boyfriend didn’t invite him back here for one reason and one reason only.

“are you hungry, nanami-san?” you ask suddenly to shatter the ice, glancing around the apartment nervously. you’re trying, okay? how are you supposed to know how to start a threesome with your colleague? “i, uh- i know you didn’t get to finish your meal at the restaurant and i’m not the best cook, but oh-! we do have leftover takeout in the fridge-”

“what she means,” gojo begins, clucking his tongue at your awkward hospitality, not phased in the least bit when you shoot him a murderous glare that could level a city, “is to ask if you’re ready to finish what you started on the train. she’s wet for you- i bet she wants to know how different your fingers feel from mine when they’re fucking her.”

he pauses with meaning, letting it hang in the air like a fat, full moon, grin widening as he drags that salacious blue gaze down right to nanami’s crotch. “how different something else of yours feels too.”

“you are unbelievably crude.”

“why don’t we show nanami to the bedroom?” gojo suggests, eyes on you now. you have no choice but to nod, a nervous bubble trapping your words inside of your throat. you spin around, heading down the long hallway and to the main bedroom, your red bottoms clicking against the lacquered marble floors.

the entire penthouse stands for what being the precious scion of jujutsu society can buy you in a rich city. gojo’s bedroom is nearly the same size as the main living area itself, an open space with high ceilings, glass walls, and warm amber lighting. the furniture is sparse so as to not overwhelm his senses. there is a sitting area of chairs by the big glass windows that display a perfect view of tokyo’s glittery skyline, and a california king bed sits focal in the middle of the room, the memory foam mattress dressed with expensive bamboo sheets the color of rich chocolate.

it’s all familiar to you, a second home, but when the doors shut behind the three of you and you’re truly alone with them, the presence of two powerful sorcerers watching your every move, their lust humming around your body in a chokehold and threatening to devour you whole, makes you feel like you’re walking into this room for the first time.

as expected, gojo wastes no time when the doors are closed. he closes the space between the two of you, pressing the lean line of his stature against your back. you welcome him happily, desperate for his actual touch and not the teasing he does when he wants to make you cry. he lowers his head, pressing featherlight, open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder that earns him the tilt of your head to allow him more access, eyelids fluttering shut as he reaches the junction of your neck.

“satoru...” you breathe out his name in the softest of sighs, and he makes a sound that he hears you— wrapping an arm under your breast as he bares down with his teeth, sucking a bruise into your skin while his fingers pinch the zipper of your dress. dragging it down until the fabric crumples to the floor and you’re the first one completely naked.

“is this the real reason you took me to dinner with you, gojo satoru? to get me out of my dress?”

“i don’t know what you mean, princess,” he says, and then he twists your body around to face him. cobalt blue orbs drinking down the sight of your naked body, darkening as he watches the way your nipples stiffen under the cold blast of air from the vents overhead. “i can get you out of your dress anytime i want.”

nanami almost rolls his eyes, but finds the restraint not to. he has enough confidence to make himself at home, too, while gojo undresses you. removing his blazer, he folds it neatly over the back of an armchair before moving to the silver drink cart on the other side of the bedroom where your boyfriend keeps alcohol he is too lightweight to actually consume, but you can feel his attention on you even though he makes himself scarce.

“are we being rude?” you whisper, only for satoru’s ears as he thumbs over one of your nipples, swallowing dryly. satoru follows your line of sight to nanami, and scoffs as if you’re being ridiculous.

“don’t worry about him right now. he knows what to do and he’ll come over when he’s ready. look at me.” gojo hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze up and forcing you to look up into the twin pools of his blue eyes. at the sight of your plush body, his chest becomes so tight with want that it takes every last ounce of his self restraint to not flip you over, press you into the mattress, and split you on his cock. “that’s it. keep those pretty eyes on me.”

“attention hog,” you roll your eyes.

“gonna be a brat in front of our guest?” he hums, backing up until he sits on the edge of the bed. legs spread so that you can settle in between them. even though you’re no stranger to being naked in front of satoru, you feel exposed with the other man in the room. it doesn’t help that nanami is so quiet and observant— the sharp cut of his stare prickling against your skin from where he stands at the window, sipping dry scotch from the glass he poured himself. just knowing that he is waiting to make his move has your cunt pulsing with need, sweat beading along your hairline.

hands resting on gojo’s shoulders, you lift a leg and climb into his lap. his hands drop down to gather the seat of your ass into his palms— shamelessly kneading the fat roughly between his fingers before delivering an open-handed smack that’s so fucking hard it gnashes your teeth together, your cunt clenching desperately around emptiness.

“o-oh-! what was that for-”

“for neglecting me all night,” he whines, and brings his hand down once more— quick, dirty slaps to your ass that bounces off the hollow walls of his bedroom until tears spring to your eyes, a bittersweet mixture of pain and pleasure that you love. “for holding out on me. not letting me fuck you on top of that table where everyone could’ve watched. for being a smartass.”

“dirty old exhibitionist.”

“damn right,” he grins, like a madman. edging back on the bed and dragging you with him until you’re straddling his hips now. his cock pressing deliciously up against your pussy through his slacks and somehow, you’re no further in getting what you want than you were back on that fucking train. it frustrates you, knowing that he would rather tease you out than let you sit on it. but you know that satoru is good for it, and the only thing you can do right now is grind your hips down in a slow circle, rubbing a sticky spot into his designer slacks.

“there’s just no satiating you, is there?” he sighs, one hand leaving your ass. thumb dipping between your folds to brush over your clit, the little nub oversensitive, puffy with need, and you squirm at his fleeting touches. “sit on my tongue then, huh? been dying to taste this pretty pussy all night long, angel.”

“but i want-” your lips part to whine, but gojo sweeps in to kiss you quickly, sucking your bottom lip against his warm tongue that shushes your protests so quickly, it’s embarrassing.

“you want my cock in you, i know,” he drawls, as if he feels sympathetic for you— as if he’s your liberator and not your executioner. this is nothing for him. oh, he’s plenty aroused. been aching to be buried in your cunt since the beginning of the night, but he could tease you for hours with his relentless touches and mocking words because it’s that much better. he’s a giver, and your pussy is so much sweeter to him when he’s got you swollen with need, cheeks streaked in tears. “or maybe . . . maybe you’re begging for nanami’s now?”

you feel your heart flip, and you’ll never really get used to the feeling of knowing that you’re here, agreeing to get fucked out by your boyfriend and your colleague and they’re both denying you. head spinning into a dizzy twirl with arousal as you squirm over satoru’s clothed cock, desperate for friction. you try to bat your eyelashes, make it pretty, make him relent into skipping steps. “want you both, ‘toru. need you both. i’ve been so good for you, right? i deserve it.”

“you deserve it, baby. and you’ll have us. after you sit on my tongue.” he says, adamant in this.

“ugh!”

gojo is so nonchalant about it, waiting expectantly for you. despite how confident you are in your sex life with him, it’s one of those positions that you’ve always been a little too shy to do often, but it’s hard to even think about refusing the skill of his mouth when he looks like that.

he’s reclining on the bed now, propped up on one elbow with those pretty summer eyes smoldering under wintery lashes and the peaks of his snowy hair falling over his forehead. pressed shirt all wrinkled now with the buttons popped open so that you can see glimpses of his strong chest and the ridges of his toned abs— just beckoning for a pretty girl like you to crawl up his broad chest and smother his face with your plump thighs and intoxicating scent.

“what if i smother you?” you try one last time but the words sound ridiculous to even you.

“dare you to try,” he taunts, bravado on full volume but he squeezes the flesh of your thigh in reassurance as he reads between the lines of your words; catches the real meaning. “you shouldn’t worry about that, angel. i can take it. know why?”

“not this again-”

“know why?” he insists, like a bratty child.

you roll your eyes, but an endearing smile cuts through the thread of anxiety worming its way into your confidence. gojo’s talkative nature isn’t always annoying— sometimes, he knows exactly the right thing to say. “because you’re the strongest?”

“that’s my girl. now get up here already. nanami is getting impatient.”

nodding, you listen to him. inching up his body until your thighs cage in the handsome angles of his face, those striking azures glittering like gems between your legs as he smirks up at you like he’s got the best seat in the fucking house when in reality, it’s you.

you screw your eyes shut as gojo leans forward, bracing yourself for that first warm lick of his tongue over your sensitive nerves—

but instead of putting his mouth on you, the sorcerer presses his nose right up against your mound and takes a long, lewd whiff of your pussy— the sweet and sour musk of your slick clinging to the curls at your mound, filling his nostrils with a heady scent that makes a hoarse whine stumble out of his chest.

“you’re so gross, satoru! behave-” you squeal, reaching down to tug painfully at the messy white strands of hair on his head, but the twinge of pain that shoots through his skull only causes him to grunt even more in pleasure.

“and you smell like heaven, angel.” his nose nudges against your clit as he licks a long, rough stripe up the length of your slit. he’s not surprised that you taste as sweet as you smell either— you always do. sticky honey smearing all over the inner parts of your thighs and he makes sure it coats his tastebuds just as good too, appeasing your pretty cunt with starter flits that makes you grow hot.

one of his hands trail up your tummy, landing right on one of your tits. he twists your nipple between the rough pad of his thumb, a whimper choking off at the base of your throat at the pinch.

pleasure blooms slow between your hips. it’s so gentle, so deceiving that you almost forget who you’re fucking. gojo satoru is never really gentle . . . sometimes he forgets you’re not as strong as him, that you can fall apart at the seams if he fucks you the right way. he’s just warming up, and you fall for it every time. relaxing into his grasp, a rabbit ensnared. letting him lick you into submission, and by the time you begin to squirm, intending to run from his oncoming onslaught, your boyfriend is locking you into place with his strong arms roping around your thighs.

giving you no choice in it but to curl your fingers around the headboard in front of you and endure another round of the cruel pleasure awaiting you.

“f-fuck, i could drink you dry,” he whispers under his breath, the low rumble of his baritone muffled by the press of your puffy pussy smooshed against his full lips, the vibrations tightening your hips with stinging jolts of arousal.

you’re still so sensitive, gummy and docile in his grasp. body too tense and unable to move as gojo’s sadistic streak kicks in and takes advantage of your weakened state. he stiffens the tip of his tongue to a hard point, wriggling it right under the hood of your clit where he laps over the oversensitive, used nerves before suctioning the nub into his mouth so tight that you can feel the pull in the veins underneath. it burns. it’s everything. heat seething molten in the pit of your tummy, behind the skin of your clit, up the base of your spine.

“gentle... s-satoru, gentle. i’m so sensitive-”

“take it for me, baby. just for a little while.”

gojo satoru eats pussy like it’s his breakfast of champions, like he’ll lose his mind and wage wars on the streets of tokyo if he doesn’t begin every morning and end every night with his snowy head buried between your thighs. he’s so messy with it too, spitting and smacking to wet up your pussy. saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth, down his chin, into the collar of his shirt— unbothered that the lower half of his face is glossed up in your honeyed juices as his hands force your hips into a slow grind over his lips and tongue.

and then, as if you’re not already burning from the inside out, your breaths choke off in your throat when he suddenly drags his tongue down, lapping over the entrance to your drooling cunt before he pushes it up into you.

“o-oh- oh my god.”

even though it’s nothing more than bothersome pressure, it feels so fucking good that it makes you want to collapse. thighs trembling and burning with the effort to hold up your weight. gojo makes languid, hungry pushes of the soft muscle against your walls that has you whimpering and gasping out. hips jerking as you forget yourself, bouncing down on his tongue like you’re fucking on his cock. and it’s exactly what he wanted, too— his moan is ragged, full of approval. cock throbbing against the tent in his slacks at the little sounds you make.

you’re so caught up in the feeling of gojo fucking you with his tongue, eyes squeezed shut and knuckles aching around the grip you have on the headboard, that you had forgotten all about the other man in the room until he’s standing right next to the bed. his glass of scotch held in one hand while the other reaches for you, two fingers tucking under your chin to force you to look at him.

nanami’s gaze roams all over your body. from the swell of your breasts to the tremble in your thighs as your tight cunt twitches around gojo’s tongue. your skin prickles over with goosebumps, swallowing nervously under his open scrutiny. his history with satoru and his apparent crush on you aside, you wonder what he thinks of you now? if such a proper, virtuous gentleman can keep up with insatiable freaks writhing on the bed in front of him.

will he still dream about holding your hand on tuscan beaches after watching you grind on satoru’s face while begging nanami to touch you with big, pretty eyes, whimpering his name for mercy?

“nuh-nanami-san, please-”

“kento,” he murmurs, correcting you. and he doesn’t need the liquid courage— nanami kento is a man full of surety, but he drains the last dregs of his scotch anyway. “address me as kento tonight.”

“kento,” you breathe and nod, like a good girl. “want you now. want somethin’ in my mouth.”

visibly shivering at the sound of his given name leaving your lips, at your pleas, the ex-salaryman sets the empty glass down on the nightstand and then he’s reaching for you again. he traces your face, and then the underside of your breasts. his gaze briefly dips between your legs, too. and something in you stirs at the heated look that passes between the two men you’re in between. intense coffee brown meeting mischievous ocean blue before gojo smirks and looks away first to put his attention back on you as his tongue spears up against your sensitive spot, flicking and wriggling against it to spread warmth all along your hipbones and make you cry out desperately.

reaching forward with greedy hands, you grip onto the front of kento’s dress shirt, needing a distraction from the tight coil winding slow in your gut. you tug him down to an angle where you can meet his pretty lips in a messy kiss.

though you may have been the one to initiate it, nanami overpowers you easily. he makes the blood rush from your head, leaving you dizzy as he indulges you with his tongue. pausing to kiss over your jaw, sighing soft in the back of his throat like he’s coming home after waiting years to be able to fucking do this. it’s an overwhelming feeling, having one man lick into your mouth while the other challenges your sanity with his tongue against your pussy, his only goal to have you gush all over his face.

“finally,” kento breathes hotly, cupping your cheeks gently in his big hands as he kisses along the corner of your mouth, nipping at your upper lip like he can barely hold himself back to speak, his big hands palming your breasts. “i can become acquainted with this sweet mouth of yours without that one interrupting.”

but oh, he shouldn’t have said that.

gojo grunts in offense, but he doesn’t dare stop when you’re so close. if anything, it makes him worse. his hand replaces his mouth, and you barely have time to protest before he pushes three long fingers into your sopping pussy, curling them and fucking them back and forth with a quick pace that makes you ache, the tip of his tongue back to wriggling under the hood of your clit to spear right against those burning nerves again, causing you to thrash and bite down on nanami’s bottom lip, orgasm cresting too fucking fast, washing down over you like a strong tide ready to wipe out your mind—

“give me one right now, and i’ll let nanami fuck your mouth. come on, angel face, give it here-”

“s-satoru, don’t-!” it would be a scream, but nanami drinks it down in a kiss. breath stolen right from your lungs as gojo forces the orgasm out of you, clenching and squelching so violently your cunt pushes his fingers out and you splash wetness all over the lower half of his face even though your clamp your knees together and try to hold it. tremors lock up the muscles of your thighs, and the pleasure chokes you out. high swirling in your head. you feel swollen, fucked out in the aftermath. knowing that satoru did it to prove a point, and not for your pleasure because you’re barely satisfied from it. your fingers are tangled in kento’s shirt, nearly tearing the fabric as satoru smirks victoriously between your thighs with his face soaking wet.

you push his head away from you weakly, but you know that he won’t let you off with just one.

you don’t want him to.

“y-you didn’t have to force it,” you whine, still shaking. “i fucking hate you.”

“that wasn’t very kind, sweetheart,” kento is the one who speaks next, clucking his tongue. and you’re not sure if he’s talking about you insulting gojo, tearing his shirt, or nearly biting his lip in half or all three. but his lips look so fucking good all bitten and swollen, a dollop of blood pooling where you broke the skin that you ignore his scolding. at least until nanami takes your hand, pressing it firmly against the crotch of his slacks— letting you get a feel of just how painfully stiff his cock feels underneath the fabric.

“i expect that apology i was promised now.”

god, you don’t need to be told twice.

watching nanami through fluttering eyelashes, you work through unbuttoning his shirt and pants. the buckle of his designer belt clinks as you wriggle them down his hips just enough to free his cock. you can’t help the whine that leaves you, breath leaving your chest in a whistle at the way it slaps against his abdomen. it’s pretty. he hisses at that first contact of your hand wrapping around the base, moving it out of the way as you lean forward to press a kittenish kiss to his sharp, defined hipbone.

“your cock is almost as handsome as the rest of you,” you breathe, voice the weight of a siren’s call. “can i taste it?”

oh, you could pull him underneath the sea with the way you’re looking at him. he barely gives you a nod, and you smile. only a man as pristine as nanami would look this dignified with his pants tucked under his ass cheeks and his expensive shirt hanging off his shoulders, barely held out of the way as you stroke him slow from root to tip, wetting your palm with his sticky precum, opaque over your fingers for an easier slide.

it’s not surprising that he is beautiful everywhere. a dusting of sandy hair on his defined chest and a sculpted adonis belt that tapers off into a pale and veiny cock. it’s not too long, slightly curved up towards his naval. perfectly heavy and thick— weighing your wrist down with body and strain. it feels scandalous and forbidden, like you shouldn’t be here stroking another man’s cock while your boyfriend watches, but then you remember that he is enjoying this most of all.

“put your mouth on him, angel,” gojo instructs suddenly, pressing sticky kisses along your inner thigh to remind you of his presence. he barely sounds winded, nipping bruises into your pillowy skin as his salacious gaze locks onto the visual of your hand working over nanami’s leaking cock. “i’m almost done down here.”

with that, he suckles your puffy clit back into his mouth. his throat flexing as he drinks down the pretty juices leftover. your hips jerk in surprise, but you try your best not to fall. to focus on your part in all of this. you grip onto nanami’s hip for purchase as your swollen lips part for the dripping, thick tip of his cock. sheathing your teeth like gojo taught you and sucking nanami between them slow, letting the 7:3 sorcerer feel the warm slide of your cheeks, fulfilling his darkest little desire of getting to fuck your mouth.

and nanami hates to admit it, but gojo satoru being there to witness it, all six eyes on him, is like an added summer bonus.

nanami is such a patient man. he would never think about forcing your pace, but he does place his hand on the top of your head, gently rubbing his thumb over your soft hair. it makes you want to please him further, sinking the tight ring of your mouth down on him until he grunts. the rough texture of your tongue scraping against the sensitive underside of his cock. you’re always such a good girl when it comes to sucking dick that satoru feels that familiar lick of envy burn fury-green in his sternum at the thought of his own erection sitting neglected in his slacks, but he wouldn’t miss the sight of his darling angel struggling to fit nanami’s girth fully into your little mouth even if the world was burning.

“don’t suck him in like that or he’ll cum too fast and ruin it for all of us.”

you’re about to reel back, smart off and tell gojo that you know how to properly suck a man off, that you’ve brought his ass to snot and tears with your mouth before, but something in your belly warms with lust instead and your words die under the weight of nanami’s cock pressing your tongue down as you remember what gojo said on the train. that maybe he’s instructing you because he already knows what makes nanami’s knees weak. that those pretty pink lips of your boyfriend’s have been right where yours are now. stretched obscenely around nanami’s thick cock, tongue flicking over the slit of his leaking head, swallowing like a good boy when the 7:3 sorcerer paints his throat white—

oh.

“that’s it,” kento murmurs under his breath, low and gravelly. ruined. he bends at the waist, cupping your cheeks in his big hands, thumb brushing over the bulged outline of his girth pushing against your cheeks as you suckle around him. “i dreamt of this. laid awake at night thinking of how you would look when i touch you, how you would look with your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock.” he thinks he was a fool for saying that he does not praise or disparage, because he can’t help himself now. how can he not praise you, sweet, perfect you, when you’re suckling on him like that? staring up at him through coquettish eyelashes with a mouth so fucking molten, it makes his stomach churn.

he’s almost nauseous in his pleasure. huffing out low groans as you bob once, twice, swallow around the tip of his cock and repeat. trapping nanami in an endless cycle that makes his knees buckle out. falling too fast for the hot brand around him that burns straight through his skin. eventually, he has to draw back. huff out a groan as he lets himself slip out with a wet pop. “stick your tongue out for me, love. say ah.”

curling your tongue down to your chin, smiling impishly when the sight makes him groan. he moves forward after a moment of reprieve, slapping the heavy tip of his cock against your flattened tongue— smearing sticky precum all over the surface. you barely have time to swallow it down, slide his sweet taste down your throat before he cups your cheeks in warning and his hips surge forward. widening your eyes in surprise as he widens your jaw at the same time.

nanami kento isn’t at all what you expected. you figured he would be gentle and slow with you, almost boring in his romanticism. but your hands fly to his hipbones as your throat flexes and you choke around the thick stretch your colleague lodges down your esophagus.

“that’s it. let me in.” he whispers, and he makes the words sound like heaven when he’s committing sin. you’re only granted a moment to breathe when he springs back, grunting deep in his chest as you part so obediently for him. spit bubbling down your chin, pooling to drip between your breasts and onto satoru’s cheek where he distractedly plays with your clit underneath. your jaw aches, but you let him bruise your throat without complaint.

“fuck, fuck. you’re so good for him, baby. can’t wait to feel that pretty throat struggling ‘round my cock too.”

“you’re neglecting her, satoru.” nanami chastises above the volume of your wet gurgles and gargles, jaw locked tight in pure pleasure. he places his hand on your shoulder, bearing down to add weight and force you back onto gojo’s waiting tongue. your boyfriend smirks against your skin, encircling his lips around one of your puffy folds, nibbling it with his teeth before he laves you with long, wet stripes of his tongue. it becomes a push and pull of how long they can tease you. every heated lick at your frayed, overstimulated nerves and every thrust of nanami’s cock against the gummy patch of your throat threatens to make you faint.

“pw-pleashe-” you blubber around the stretch of nanami fucking into your mouth, fluttering your teary lashes up at him— hiccupping desperate gulps of air into your lungs when nanami eases his hips back immediately, pulling off your tongue so that he can listen to your sweet pleas.

“i think she has something to say,” satoru muses as nanami wipes his thumb over your lips to wipe away the dribbles of spit drooling down your chin and connecting you to the flushed, aching head of his cock.

“what is it, love? go on.”

“i can’t take it anymore. please please please-”

“been thinking ‘bout it since we left that restaurant, huh?” gojo swipes an indulgent, selfish lick of his tongue over your clit one last time before he’s lifting you off of him and moving out from under your body, letting you settle amongst the pillows instead as he kneels on the bed. “you’ve been nothing but an angel for us tonight so how can i deny you?”

you should be embarrassed the way your heart leaps in anticipation, heat swarming in your belly and you shamelessly open your legs for him, but satoru doesn’t move an inch to touch you.

you’re convinced he enjoys watching you suffer when he moves to stand behind nanami instead, resting his chin on the younger man’s shoulder so that he can look down the long expanse of his torso while he boldly curls his fingers around nanami’s cock with a firm grip, just to make his entire body pitch forward with a startled grunt—

“gojo-”

“look how hard you’ve got him, princess,” he muses gleefully, bright eyes shining as he swipes the wide pad of his thumb over the head of nanami’s cock. and you can’t help but look, watching the way clear precum bubbles out of the slit and smears between the joints of satoru’s fingers as he strokes him slowly. nanami’s cheeks flush, his lips parting on a groan before he seems to remember himself and clenches his teeth.

you’re reaching down before you know it, slipping a hand between your own thighs and petting two fingers over your folds but satoru’s gaze whips over to you so fast your heart drops to your gut, his eyes darkening as he catches you with a red hand. “don’t you dare, you little slut. wait your turn.”

he waits until you nod meekly, move your hand and curl your fists to your chest and then he’s back to his task.

satoru’s hand is different, it’s always been like that. while your touch had been soft, warm, unfamiliar— satoru’s is intense and vivid, like a bad memory. his palm is calloused friction as he drags his hand up the thick length of nanami’s cock, spreading your leftover spit into his skin. no kind of rhythm in his movement, just enough to make the blond man’s hips buck forward before he’s ripping his hand away and chuckling to himself.

“you just couldn’t wait to get your hands on my cock,” nanami bites out through gritted teeth.

“you’re right,” gojo purrs, a teasing grin on his lips, and then his attention slides to you. “i think nanami wants to fuck you first, sugar.”

at this point, you could care less who gets there first— as long as you’re given what you want the most. glancing at gojo with watery eyes, you look over at him for approval. wondering if he’ll edge you to the brim and snatch it away from you again, but he nods, giving you a soft look that melts your insides to goo. “i’ll admit, i’m reluctant. i’ve been dying to get into this pretty little cunt all night long, but i’m gonna be nice and put you both out of your miseries.”

“i’ve got something else you can do for me, anyway,” he continues. his nimble fingers move to pop the button on his own slacks then, sliding them down with little effort. he isn’t wearing any underwear, and you swallow greedily around a dried-out tongue as you get your first glimpse of the night of his pretty cock. it bobs out— flushed bubblegum pink and pearling at the tip between strong thighs frosted over by white peach fuzz. unfortunately, you don’t get a chance to reach out and wrap your fingers around it because nanami is crowding your space, letting you breathe in the spicy scent of his expensive aftershave.

“you’re so eager to do whatever he asks. will you do the same for me tonight?” he wonders, looking down at you with flushed cheeks and mussed hair.

demure in the way you press your knees further apart until they brush the sheets, making room for his hips to slot in between them. scooting into his lap until your ass cheeks nudge against the wet tip of his cock— legs draped over his muscled thighs so that he can see everything. nanami’s eyes droop down, raking desperately over that pretty little cunt of yours. he swallows, the knot in his throat bobbing under the thin skin before he reaches down to spread your slit apart, all slicked and gooey in strings of wet and the remnants of satoru’s spit.

“such a pretty pussy,” nanami breathes out the compliment like a prayer, like he’ll die if he doesn’t bury himself in your cunt within the next few minutes. “but i didn’t think you were so tight here.” he marvels, the tip of his cock just barely slipping past your entrance and catching. “how you manage to take that idiot is beyond me.”

“that almost sounds like a compliment,” gojo quips, but his sky blue attention is distracted between your legs.

it’s funny how a simple night out to a birthday dinner for principle gakuganji turned out like this— with your stoic, antisocial colleague wrapping his veined hands around your squishy thighs and laying the length of his cock, fat and leaking, on the top of your puffy mound to compare the difference.

the man in front of you is nothing like your quiet colleague. where you expected soft serve missionary and whispered praises from him, you got a fucking size kink and him sucking his cheeks against his teeth before letting a warm glob of spit trail from his mouth to drizzle onto his cock. it’s lewd, how he lets it cool there, watching it spread down the side until it drips onto your pussy as you squirm under the perverted scrutiny from both men. he grips the base of his cock and taps the tip against your clit to make you squirm, smearing his spit as he moves.

“kento,” you breathe, the tight ring of your cunt twitching because he’s so fucking close to where you want him. “fuck me already.”

“be patient, love,” he coos, and you feel the calloused pad of his thumb shift from holding your folds open to dipping his thumb into your cunt briefly, making you jump. “how long does satoru usually make you wait and beg for what you want?”

“too long. oh, he’s so cruel to me, kento,” you simper, batting those wet eyelashes to get your way, your hands grasping at nanami’s tapered hips.

“i’m not like that,” he reassures. “if you want something, i’ll provide it for you.”

and then, nanami’s hips angle down before sinking forward, the push of his cock spreading the walls of your cunt apart agonizingly slow.

“nghhhh-”

it feels like heaven, and both of you let out a groan. it’s everything nanami dreamed of. pleasure scrapes up his spine, numbing everything else around him and burning his nerves raw until all he can feel is your pussy, splitting open nice and sweet for him.

“so good for me, just a little more,” nanami clenches his jaw, fingers digging into your hips as his lidded eyes stare down at your pretty face— eyes wide and swollen lips suspended in a silent moan.

immediately though, nanami knows that you’ll be a fucking problem. for all your begging for him, you don’t take it well. he’s barely in as it is, only just past the fat, flushed crown and you’re already choking on gasps and gurgles. slipping out of his grasp and scrambling further up the bed, running to gojo— running away from that first, twinging stretch of the blunt weight of nanami’s wide cockhead.

“oh, no you don’t- where are you runnin’ off to, sugar?” satoru is the one who reaches down, hooking his hand behind your knee and keeping your leg pinned open for nanami, halfheartedly twisting a fist over the head of his own cock as he watches the other sorcerer force himself through the tight walls of your pussy.

“god, fuck-!” you whine, pressing your forehead against gojo’s knee.

“what’s wrong? is this not what you begged me for? begged us both for?”

“y-yeah, but i- c-can’t take it. ‘s too big, ken. w-won’t fit.”

“now you’re just flattering me to get what you want, love,” he murmurs, voice soothing over your frayed nerves like melted chocolate; his soft, nasally voice vibrates against your skin as he dips his head down, pressing his lips to the valley between your sweaty breasts before angling his head to wrap his lips around one of your peaked nipples. “don’t you worry now, i’ll make sure it fits. i’ll make sure you take every inch of my cock.”

you hate that his words sound oddly reassuring, like he’s soothing a frightened animal— like he’s not wider, heavier than satoru when he reels back before fucking himself into you again, to the hilt this time. snorting under his breath when your knees close up, clacking violently against his hips. your first instinct is to push him out, thighs shaking with the effort to take him but he’s sinking with so much weight that it knocks the breath out of your lungs, giving you no choice but to let him split you open.

gojo doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he is enjoying your struggle. he’s scratching the itch of a longtime kink of his, mumbling to himself like a madman about how you look so fucking hot like this, how you take nanami like the good girl you are. this is exactly what he wanted, and he always gets what he wants; but it’s what you wanted too. you wanted satoru to watch the way you thrash against the sheets, the way your pretty lips part to moan your coworker’s name— how fucking beautiful you look arching your back off the bed, hair splayed out on the pillows with another man’s cock fucking inside you.

“how does he feel, angel?”

“so big, s-so fucking wide-!” you squeal, your words hiccupping off into a throaty moan, “i can’t-”

“why don’t you be a big girl for nanami? show him how good you are at taking cock, baby,” satoru purrs, stroking his hand across your soft cheek. you nod a little, bite down on your lip, curling your fists into the sheets as nanami fucks steady, raw soreness against the walls of your cunt. the soft swell of your breasts bouncing with each calculated, hard thrust. you muffle the sounds you make against satoru’s knee, but nanami seems to enjoy your gasping cries. practically cooing in response each time he drags one out of you.

“show him that you can take two at once.”

before you can comprehend what he means, kento is the one who pauses his strokes, encapsulating your hips in his big hands before he tips you onto your side to give satoru easier access. it’s strange, seeing two men who don’t get along work together to fuck you to tears but it also warms your cunt, a feverish flush traversing through your veins because they’re taking care of you so well. nanami hooks your ankle over his shoulder, bending you until the joints in your hips ache and then he fucks back in, his blunt fingernails digging bloody moons into the doughy skin of your thighs at the feeling of your cunt swallowing him up once more.

when gojo shifts his hips forward, you know what he wants and you loll out your tongue like a good girl, waiting until your boyfriend wraps his fingers around the back of your head, spindly digits tangling in your hair painfully as he guides your head forward, running your tongue across the leaking slit of his cock, let you gather up his precum on your tastebuds. groaning. sucking in his gut as you let him use your mouth for his pleasure, letting him control you like a little rag doll. and when he tugs on your hair, your swollen lips close around the tip of his cock, suckling on it obediently. whining when you suck just right and the salty taste of his watery precum coats your tongue.

“look at you, you’re filthy,” nanami mutters, and though the degradation should smart, it makes your hips buck up against his in response because nanami says it with so much fucking veneration, it sounds like he’s praying to god. “i should have known because of who you’re dating, but look. at. you- you’re worse than he is. thrashing all over my cock while you suck another.”

“k-kento-”

you don’t need a mirror to know how you look under them. vixenish. a thing out of fantasy, a greedy little cockslut happily splitting open those honey thighs for one man while your pretty mouth is wide open for another; wedged between both of them to be used for their pleasure.

and you couldn’t be happier— you dip low, tonguing at the seam of satoru’s balls, spit congregating at the corner of your lips before he shakes his head, cheeks candy cane red and blue eyes lidded. fingers tightening in your hair with a brutal twist of his wrist, hips fucking forward to sink himself further into your mouth.

“f-fuck, sweet girl. just like that.”

nanami’s watching the entire thing, his gaze fixated on the two of you as you suck gojo greedily between your lips. his heart thumps wild, and he can’t help but fuck a little harder at the sight, a little faster, a little meaner, because he knows what you’re tasting right now from experience. salt and sugar at the tip, precum gathering against your tongue that never ends because satoru is messy. his throat dries up, sandy hair falling over his forehead as he tucks his chin against his chest and forces his eyes shut.

“how does she feel, nanami?” satoru goads, voice breathless, lidded eyes flickering to the man fucking between your legs. “better than me?”

“better than you ever have. look how easy she’s opening up for me,” nanami shoots at the white-haired man, his fingers holding one side of your pussy open so both men can watch nanami’s cock slide in and out, your cunt expanding to take him with each sink before squeezing down when he presses deep. he’s made a mess of you already— the thick root of his cock coated in a ring of white cream, flecks of it splattered over his lower abdomen.

it’s too much— fuck, he can barely keep his composure. he’s losing control and it’s too much and that’s why nanami does it. he’s overwhelmed. you run too hot, and his gut feels like it’s on fire. each sink of his heavy cock against the warm, squishy walls of your cunt, combined with satoru’s low groans and the sound of you choking around his cock up front threatens to send him over the edge too early. that’s why nanami’s honey eyes darken, why he reaches for satoru— gripping him hard by the nape of his neck and tugging him forward.

gojo grunts in surprise as nanami yanks him in, but it isn’t as if he doesn’t want to go; as if he doesn’t want to chase the thread nanami is weaving right now. they barely share a heated look before gojo dips his head, locking them into a kiss.

the first thing that crosses your mind is that it’s so fucking hot, and the second is that the way they kiss each other is not the gentle way they coaxed you into letting them explore your mouth. they aren’t delicate with each other, and you should not have expected them to be.

gojo usually has so much control over nanami— being a stronger sorcerer than him, dominating the conversations they have by annoying him to no end— but when they kiss, it’s different. nanami grips the back of gojo’s neck in a vice, keeping him in place while his long fingers tangle in the short strands of nanami’s hair. it’s all heated licks into satoru’s mouth, lewd sucks against nanami’s tongue. like they’ve waited so fucking long to do this again. one drunk on your pussy and the other drugged out on your throat as they kiss each other vigorously.

their lips are wet with spit, and at one point gojo bites down on nanami’s tongue hard enough to nick it, groaning at the metallic tang that rides over his taste. you don’t miss how nanami’s hips drive into you harder after that, forcing his grunts down gojo’s throat as punishment.

if you had any doubts that they had done this before, you don’t have them now. it’s obvious in their chemistry, and though the thoughts swirl in your mind, you don’t feel jealousy as they tongue into each other’s mouths. no matter what, you are the center of satoru’s world and nothing will change that. instead, it’s hotter like this, seeing the two of them kiss each other. knowing the three of you are sharing each other.

“who told you that you could stop?” kento’s gaze flickers to you, head tilted down and directing the question at you. his chest rises and falls in a desperate heave as satoru mouths a path across the sharp cut of the ex-salaryman’s jawline to the long, toned expanse of his neck. leaving aubergine nips and bites along the smooth olive skin there that nanami hisses at.

you had been so caught up in watching them that you don’t even remember stopping. you’re almost too fucked out to function yourself— to keep up with the only task you had besides laying there and taking cock, but your cheeks warm as nanami scolds you for slacking off. at some point, you had pulled off of satoru’s cock, rubbing your spit against his skin with a halfhearted, lazy handjob. neglecting your poor boyfriend to watch them kiss. nanami’s hand drops, gripping the back of your head and forcing you to swallow satoru’s cock once more. you suck him in quick, gurgling spit and precum and air in a dirty choke as the warmth catches him off guard and his hips snap forward too fast, the tip of his cock brushing against the fleshy patch at the back of your throat and gagging you out.

“good girl, f-fuck. you’re so good for me, so good, so fuckin’ good,” oh, he sounds like he’s almost sobbing.

as you pull him further in, a hot brand suctioning around the girth of his cock at the same time nanami boldly scrapes a fingernail over one of his nipples. it’s enough stimulation, enough overwhelming pleasure that he feels a lurch in his gut, a kick in his balls and then he’s withdrawing almost as fast as he buried himself in, pulling his cock off your tongue at an almost reluctant pace, a string of spit connecting you to his flushed tip.

“need a minute. can’t cum yet,” he expels a deep breath of relief, grinning at you lopsidedly and bending at the waist to kiss your puffy lips— groaning when he tastes his musk on your tongue. but it’s obvious that gojo satoru isn’t tapping out of his own game.

instead, he stretches out on his belly and suckles one of your nipples into his mouth, pulling the little nub so hard onto his tongue that you feel your eyes wet up at the sensation, walls clenching around nanami with a gasp. he quickly grows bored, though. hand trailing down your tummy until you jump in oversensitivity as his fingers shift through your spread slit, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your puffy, sore clit as nanami sinks in and out of your pussy.

you whine, wanting to cum so desperately that your lashes are wet with frustrated tears, grinding against each of nanami’s thrusts, euphoric dopamine filling your brain each time his fat cock fucks right against that sweet spot inside of you.

“gojo-san, behave,” nanami warns suddenly, already knowing what the snowy-haired sorcerer is up to. gojo just grins, and then his fingers are dipping a little further, a dangerous glint in his eye that makes your heart sink.

“aw, come on, spoilsport. i just wanna see how your cock feels inside my girl,” he says innocently, but his smirk betrays his intentions completely. you hiss through your teeth as satoru fishhooks a finger into your pussy, thrusting it right alongside nanami’s cock and tugging, stretching you out even further.

“o-oh-” you keen, and then your boyfriend is leaning down and licking a broad stripe over the length of your slit, hardening the point of his tongue to flick it rapidly against your clit, the heady scent of sex filling his nostrils, making him lightheaded.

you squeak out in surprise, fingers flying to grip his hair, acrylics digging into his scalp because you’re so delirious with pleasure now, fucked out and so so full— walls twitch and clench with each weighted thrust of nanami’s cock, the forked ridges of the veins along the shaft dragging against your nerves, slick squelching out of your stretched hole to drip down the middle of your ass cheeks.

“look at me while i’m fucking you, darling,” nanami beckons for your attention and you give it to him, looking up at him with misty, lidded eyes. “there we go, there’s my pretty girl,” he croons and he knows that he shouldn’t stake a claim on you like this— you’ll be back in satoru’s arms soon enough, you’ll never belong to him, after all, but he can’t help himself; his hand petting your cheek affectionately as he fucks into you. “you’re going to make me cum soon, love. gonna make me fill up this perfect little cunt. do you want that?”

“yes-! want your cum, kento. want it so bad.”

“that’s right, darling. let me hear it. let me hear you scream my fucking name in front of your boyfriend.”

“want you to cum inside me, k-kento. wanna cum with you. f-fuck me, it feels so good-!” you plea, and the beginnings of an orgasm stirs in your tummy— warmth spreading all over the nerves of your clit and building until you can feel it right on the edge, so close that tears bubble up in your pretty eyes because you want it so fucking bad. all it would take is for nanami to fuck into you at the right angle, for gojo to crook the fingers he still has inside of you and press up against that sweet spot and make you fall apart underneath them.

but you should have expected that gojo satoru would have other plans. his tongue innocently flicking out against your clit until he moves down, mouth widening a little further so that when nanami reels his hips all the way back and plunges forward, it’s not your cunt that nanami sinks into, it’s satoru’s mouth. pretty pouty lips closing around the head of nanami’s cock at the last minute, hollowing his cheeks out, sucking him all the way to the back of his throat like a fucking professional—

“what the- fuck,” a guttural grunt of surprise is punched out of nanami that sounds so deep, so ruined that it rattles your teeth, his entire body trembling at the hot suction swallowing around his cock and he’s lost to it, no chance of fighting it or scolding satoru for the dirty trick— he simply grips the back of his head roughly, burying himself down the sorcerer’s throat as he spurts white ropes of cum onto gojo’s tongue, forcing him to drink every fucking drop.

nanami heaves in the aftermath, barely able to catch his breath. “can you ever get through the day without being a freak?”

“keep degrading me,” gojo sighs before he grips your cheeks, squishing them between the pads of his fingers until your tongue pushes out from the pressure and he can lean over your body, lolling out his own tongue and drizzling a thick strand of his spit and nanami’s leftover seed from his mouth into your own, bringing a moan to your lips as your hips thrash. you make a show of playing with it— spreading white it over the surface of your tongue before you swallow eagerly, whining needily as his cum slides down your throat. “it makes my dick even harder.”

“i didn’t get to cum,” you pout.

“sorry, princess,” he doesn’t sound apologetic at all when he looks down his nose at you, shrugging one broad shoulder. “can’t let you have all the fun. don’t worry, though. i’m going to take care of you.”

you would be lying if you said your stomach didn’t lurch at the promise.

you’re vaguely aware that the two of them are switching places, eyes too blurry with clouds to see for sure until nanami sits back against the large headboard and pulls you into a half-seated position so that you’re leaning against his chest and his strong arm is encircled around your middle as satoru nudges your cum streaked thighs apart. your eyes are lidded, but you still can see him brush his fingers over your used pussy before he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock, unforgiving and no further warning before he presses inside of you.

heat washes over your entire body, your belly aching as you’re filled up to the brim once again. where nanami was thicker, satoru is everything— overwhelming, all consuming. making your eyes slam shut during that first push every time, unable to help your high pitched whines as he forces you to take every last inch of his cock.

“not gonna say ‘t-toru it’s too much’ for me like you did nanami? i must be losing my touch,” he sneers, mocking you with a condescending coo, his eyes rolling down when he bottoms out inside of you.

“f-… god. f-fuck you.”

“anything for you.”

satoru isn’t interested in teasing any longer, not when he’s been on edge for hours. the unruly, hard rhythm of his fucking has you squirming on his cock quick, each thrust knocking you against nanami’s bare chest— giving you nowhere to run. it hurts, but it’s so good. your cunt too sensitive after being used all night long like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t love it.

“be good for him, darling,” nanami encourages, and you think you could get used to the way he holds you— his lips pressed against the temple of your head, his breath hot against your skin as he presses the softest of kisses there, contrasted with the brutal lashings of satoru’s fucking.

you nod dumbly, letting yourself be wrapped in nanami’s strong arms as satoru fucks in and out, relentless in his strokes, keeping that familiar ache in the pit of your belly. his hips press against yours as he grinds the tip of his cock against the entrance to your womb and he knows he’s too deep when you wince, when your fingernails scratch against his tapered v-line to beg for mercy so he compromises, drawing back until he can see the foam streaking his cock.

“puh-please, ‘toru,” you pant out, guttural and desperate so satoru falls over you, groaning into your shoulder as he does exactly what you asked— slamming his cock into you. making you cry out in surprise as he fucks deep once more, pulses of pleasure burning through your body and making your legs clamp around his hips.

“i-i can’t-” you whine, squeezing your thighs together, but satoru holds you open, not taking your complaints, pressing you down further against nanami so that it’s impossible to escape the dirty onslaught of his cock. “much- too much-!”

“oh, now you say it, ” satoru growls out, rolling his hips. “too late. cum for me and i’ll stop. come on, sweet baby. cum on my cock.”

you can tell that he’s losing it too, the friction almost too much to bear for you both. wrapping your arms around satoru’s neck and clinging to him, you bite your lips to muffle the gasps and moans trying to escape as the heat stirring in your belly is almost to bursting now, a rubber band pulled taut and ready to snap.

nanami ducks a hand between the wet slide of your bodies, pushing his middle finger against your clit. rubbing in quick circles and you mewl, squirming and thrashing against them both. “do what he says, cum for him.” and you try to hold it, try to last a little longer but it’s no use; the three of you are pressed against each other beautifully and the room feels hazy and hot, suffocating everything else until your pleasure is sharpened to a bright point, until you can feel nothing but them. raw pulses. inner walls spasming against satoru’s cock as he thrusts against you, fucking against that spot inside you until it feels sore, his balls slapping against the fat of your ass cheeks each time he sinks into you.

“i-i’m g’na cum, oh f-fuck, i’m gonna cum-!”

“oh, there we go,” satoru groans as he fights through the tight squeeze of your walls, like you’re late and he’s tired of waiting.

your vision dots with black stars, screams echoing off the walls of the room in gojo’s penthouse before your back arches and you’re gone, squirting as your swollen walls clamp desperately around satoru’s cock; drenching the sheets below as you gush all over them both, sniffling as the force of your orgasm forces hot tears to spill from your eyes that gojo and nanami bend down to lick away from your cheeks.

satoru follows close behind, his own climax hitting him like a fucking train— groaning as buries himself deep to cream your cunt with his thick cum. the sight of the two of you, so pretty and filthy as you cling to each other, makes nanami cum again too. completely untouched, spurting hot seed against your lower back where he holds you up.

it feels like forever before your eyes flutter open and when they do, you look up at nanami, his face flushed and hair mussed out of the confines of his hair gel. then, your eyes slide down to gojo who is looking utterly pleased with himself. he wraps a hand around the base of his cock, pulling it free before his thumb gently spreads your folds apart, snorting when you hide your face in your hands as both of them fixate on the sight of your ruined cunt once more. thighs streaked with sweat and cum, strands of seed dripping out of your hole to pool beneath you on the sheets. you look so messy and nanami has to tear his gaze away, his gut lurching with the desire to eat it out of you.

“fuck, that was good,” gojo breathes, and you whine when he scoops up some of the cum leaking out of you with two fingers and pushes it back into your pussy.

“stop staring at it-!”

“don’t be shy. i’m glad i was given the privilege to see you cum like this, darling,” nanami murmurs, kissing your temple as he pries your hands away from your face. then he moves from behind you, letting your body rest amongst the enormous sea of pillows satoru keeps on his bed. “i trust that the two of you will allow me to eat dinner in peace next time, now that you’ve satisfied another one of your appetites.”

“no promises,” you giggle, stretching out on the bed and bringing one of the pillows closer to cuddle it.

“i should help you clean up. satoru, where do you keep the towels?” he says and though he sounds like such a gentleman, it’s really because if he keeps staring at the cum leaking out of you in rivulets, he won’t be able to ever leave this fucking room.

but the white-haired sorcerer doesn’t answer him. instead, gojo flops down and hooks an arm around your waist— his long legs tangling with yours as he pulls you against his chest. it feels symbolic to nanami, somehow. like he’s shared your body, shared his own in a way, and now he’s ready to fit the rightful pieces of the puzzle back into their places.

for a moment, nanami had almost forgotten that neither of you have ever belonged to him.

he is the outsider, after all.

his expression remains neutral because he knows when he has overstayed his welcome, knows when one of satoru’s little games are over and there are no rematches. he has been in this situation before, after all— younger, reckless, and just as foolish as he is now— so he stands up and prepares to leave with dignity, walk over to his neatly folded clothes on the armchair by the window and hope that he doesn’t fall asleep dreaming about the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. praying that now that he’s had you, it’ll be out of his system for good—

“where are you going, kento?” you wonder in genuine confusion, wrapping your hand around his wrist to halt his stride as you tilt your head up with a frown. nanami feels his heart kick in his chest. “we can clean up later, silly. come back to bed.”

“i don’t think i should stay,” nanami sniffs, wishing he had his tie to adjust out of nervous habit.

“you know, leaving right after you fucked my brains out is not very gentlemanly of you, nanami kento,” you scold halfheartedly, mouth twisted to the side.

“i have missions in the morning so i regrettably cannot-” his ears turn crabapple pink at your crude words, his free hand reaching over to gently pry your fingers away from his wrist but you refuse to let go.

“well, if you want to be a proper lover, then you will,” you tug on his wrist insistently, almost yanking him back onto the slightly damp covers. satoru grins like a cheshire cat as nanami obliges you, sliding into bed on your other side.

nanami has never wanted to slap an expression off of someone as much as he does now, but as usual satoru sees everything. he sees what nanami refuses to admit right now: that he was relieved you asked him to stay. that you may just have him completely gone. that tonight unearthed long buried feelings for white hair and a mischievous smile. that he just needs a little bit of time, a little bit of coaxing, to stop being so stubborn and come to terms with those facts.

“i told you she’s greedy, nanami,” satoru grins.

“i suppose i have no choice then, do i?”

“nope,” you confirm, and you know that the three of you have a lot to discuss tomorrow about what this means but this progression feels natural, adding balance.

nanami staying with the two of you feels like it was meant to be.

“you have to make breakfast in the morning.”

#little novels.#gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x you

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fueledbysano · 2 years ago

Text

𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒~!

how they deal with an ovulating and very horny wife.

♱ c/w: MATURED. MDNI. afab!reader, mentions of periods and pregnancy, breeding, creampies, fingering, praising, baby trapping, overstimulation, fluff/smut.

♱ ft. kazutora, mikey, hanma, sanzu, ran.

♱ a/n: the most evil horny of them all. also, happy 4k! thank you so much for all the love in my fics. also, I may have a different writing style with hanma because it was intended for a different fic with a more romantic tone. but I decided it worked just fine for this one too.

♡ tags; @manilamikeyswifey @blueparadis @tokyometronetwork

reblogs appreciated!

♡ Kazutora

As soon as he woke up, Kazutora already felt how slightly warmer you felt in his arms, almost as if you had a fever. That morning, you were in a particularly good mood as well, especially with your husband clinging to you. He gave you a moment to absorb his gaze before softly grinning. Good morning, baby girl…”

Before you could say anything, Kazutora's lips touched yours as his fingertips lifted your chin up. He waited motionlessly for your approval, which you offered by gently pressing your lips against his. You were unable to resist as your kiss got more intense. You felt a surge of lust that fueled the kiss and drew his body close to yours. After what seemed like a flash, you separated from one another.

“Want to stay~?” You asked him, never letting your gaze leave his so he could make no mistake as to what it is that you wanted. Knowing what was going on, Kazutora cleared his throat. Before you went to sleep last night, he observed you check your period tracker app. He remembered that you had noted that today had a blue mark on the calendar, signifying that you are ovulating and most fertile.

You mumbled quietly into his palm, locking eyes with him as you gently rubbed your nose against his. "Honey, please," you begged. You were certain that the lust was becoming stronger as he continued to stay silent, merely his gentle breath touching your neck.

Kazutora's long hair tickled your cleavage while he bit little patches of your skin in the crook of your neck; your heavy breaths and noises getting him bricked up in an instant. He lifted the band shirt you borrowed from him before trailing his hands down your chest, and lingering them above your thin panties.

“I love how pretty your pussy looks…” His mouth almost watered at the wet print on your panties before he pulled them off in one swift movement. “It’s like a flower~” He praised before keeping hot eye contact with you the whole time he lifted your leg up his shoulder lustfully. Soon enough, he attacked the inside of your thighs with hungry kisses. As if you couldn't have been doing it enough, your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back arched in pleasure.

Your hands reached to clench his streaks as you felt Kazutora's lips lap at your sensitive core, and you could feel his lips smiling at your breathy moans of his name. He would shift between quick tongue flicks, languid licks, and sporadic light clitsucking.Kazutora easily inserted a finger into your wetness and curled up with it. Your head dipped back when he slipped a second finger and made the same movement.

Soon enough, Kazutora's cock was straining so hard in his boxers that it itches for a relief inside of your walls. So he reached for the side drawer for the box of condoms you always kept there. However, before he could grasp the wooden knob, you quickly reacted and grabbed hold of his wrist. “It’s okay…” You assured with a soft smile. Kazutora questioned as if you weren't fine with it; he'd rather end the situation before something serious occurs. “Yes, my love.” You exhaled, placing your hands on his shoulders.

Kazutora felt his stomach turn at this confession. All the thoughts he had about getting you pregnant and starting a family with you was at its breaking point, especially now that you had said yes to him. “D’you want me to give you a baby, pretty girl?” He makes sure once more and yet again, you agreed.

“I’ll give you as many as you want…” Kazutora sat you on his thighs in a cradle before rocking upwards to you, placing your arms on his chest as a brace. You raised your hips and felt his length slip out before lowering your cunt on it abruptly.

Pleasure was making you slightly dizzy on top of him, but you made an effort to maintain your eyes on Kazutora at all times. By this point, your hips were colliding with each other with each thrust, evoking gasping groans from both of you as you watched your bodies connect.

“I’m not going to last any longer…” Kazutora admitted, feeling the pre cum from his tip coat your cervix. “That’s okay, I’m close yoo.” You insisted. You felt a little jolt as he abruptly shoved his hips upward. You gasped in shock before giving him a seductive glance.

It was excessive. Your orgasm overcame your senses and knocked the air out of your throat as it descended. Despite wanting to see Kazutora’s vulnerable expression, your eyes screw shut at the sensation of clamping your walls around his dick. The pleasure shook throughout your body.

Your husband was keeping an eye on you, and seeing you at your climax was all it took to push him over the edge. He finally lost it due to your grip, releasing all of his pent-up seed. It was so enthralling that he didn't want the moment to finish.

“You’re so amazing, my darling.” Kazutora praised as he laid your fragile body on the sheets.

♡ Mikey

Emma and Draken had just left your home after collecting their infant, who had been under you and his uncle Mikey's care for the entire morning and afternoon. If it wasn't for Draken who restrained him while Emma took the baby back, Mikey wouldn't have wanted to let go of the little bundle of joy.

“[ Y / N ], just give Manjiro a baby already.” Emma remarks in jest before Draken bids goodbye and closes the door behind them, leaving a very flustered Mikey behind. You chuckled at your husband's reaction before pressing a delicate kiss on his forehead, “Go get cleaned, honey. I'll make the bed.” He hummed affectingly, closing his eyes in alleviation before murmuring into your ear, “Love you so much~”

If his scratchy voice didn't already drive you crazy, your heart sure did skip when Mikey's hands found their way to your hips, slipping under your shirt and onto your skin before tracing delicate circles. You froze. You balled the collar of his shirt, closed your eyes, and pressed your cheek to his hair before gasping out. Mikey made a gesture that typically you found sweet, but tonight, it switched something inside you. He secretly blushed from the sound you made before withdrawing from your embrace and then doing his business upstairs.

The entire time you prepared for bed, you couldn't resist the thoughts of having your husband touch and fondle you in such sensual ways; It's nothing out of the ordinary to lust for your husband, yet tonight, you felt more drawn to him than usual. it's like... hold on.

Glancing at the calendar, you realize that it has been two weeks since your period. of course, you are ovulating. Explains the baby fever you felt too while watching you and Mikey's nephew. While it is a guaranteed card to get laid, the intense lust almost aches; the only thing plaguing your mind is having Mikey touch all over your body as he pumped your pussy full of his cum.

“Good night, my darling wife.” From underneath the covers and your shirt, Mikey’s hand cups your breast and starts to massage it gently, twisting and pulling at your nipple. His other hand was caressing your legs, and his fingers tickled as they softly moved up your inner thighs. You were enjoying his touches so much you didn’t realize the pooling mess in between your legs that began to soak through your panties. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” Mikey muttered and toyed with your clit slowly before pressing soft kisses on your neck.

Your heart is aching from eagerness, melting, and ready to breach from your chest at any moment. Fortunately, Mikey also got impatient and tugged your panties aside, making you feel his erect shaft, which had been straining in his pants ever since he spotted you splayed on your marital bed. “Good girl,” He praises, sinking into you again and again.

Normally, Mikey would whimper and grunt into your ear during sex. But tonight, feeling how significantly aroused and tight you are, Mikey didn't bother to strain the pornographic moans in his throat as he drove into your puffy g-spot.

Your hands flew up in an instant, encasing his face in your palms. He was ready to pause and kiss you, until you muttered something that had him reeling. “Knock me up, honey.” Although his head hadn't yet absorbed the words, his body had, and the words had come as a surprise to him. He came abruptly and forcefully, his head falling to nuzzle your neck as a heavy grunt erupted from his chest. Mikey’s orgasm had brought you to yours as he rode it out in shallow thrusts.

Mikey rolled off you to lay down at your side; your legs entwined as he was still inside you. “I love you….” he muttered lovingly.

To be connected with him in the most intimate ways was always so enchanting. You two stayed like that, just snuggling as you caught your breath, knowing that whatever happened in the future because of tonight, you two would do it together with love.

♡ Hanma

Hanma took you into a romantic weekend getaway at a cabin house. The day of birdwatching and camping was long over and when the navy blue took over the cerulean blue sky.

Upon arriving in your cabin, you two settled down on the settee positioned by the warm fireplace, the sound of burning wood and the scent of pine trees completed the atmosphere. You notice that his eyes have the same sparkle that you admired when you first met him after exchanging a lingering stare with him.

Hanma's pulse was hammering as he leaned forward to take in the view, his heart pounding at how stunning you looked with the continuous stream of sunlight streaming into the cabin room. He leaned in close enough that the points of your cupid's bows touched for another fiery kiss.

As you closed the distance between you and him, your hold on his jaw loosened. You pressed your lips against his, eyes peering up at his, as if checking to see if he was still down with it.Your lips brushed across his tenderly before you firmly planted them there. His brows knitted together and eyes remained open until your hand reached up to cradle the soft patch of locks at the back of his head and your tongue flicked at his lower lip.

Instead of touching you, he lets you touch him, allowing you to find your own degree of comfort. Both yours and Hanma's coats slid down your back, falling off your shoulders. You started unbuckling your belt straps as you stared down at him. As you reached the buttons on your blouse, the leather dropped about your waist. As you unfastened the buttons one by one, he attentively watched you, his eyes memorizing every piece of exposed skin. Even though you've done it countless times already before, seeing you undress just for him did something to him that he couldn't put into words. It was an image that would stay with him for the rest of his life.

“You're finally off your period, baby?” Hanma remarked as your lips pressed together again, hot and heavy. He last initiated to be intimate with you while you were in the middle of your period, but you gently rejected. So he has been waiting ever since.

He was speechless as to what you were doing to him. He felt weightless, like if he were soaring through the air, rising higher with each kiss and amount of contact between your hips. “Yes…”

Before slowly moving his hands over your exposed abdomen, he waited until you were stripped down to your cotton bra. As he played at the cloth beneath your breasts, his eyes followed you, looking for permission to push his fingers past it. As his hands excitedly stroked and kneaded the skin of your exposed breasts, you tugged the garment up and over your head completely, flinging it aside and leaning over him.

He bit back a low grunt as your hand cupped his bulge, stopping his hips from arching into the warmth of your palm. He did as he was told and unbuckled his belt. As he drew out his erection through his pants, his warm stare didn't flinch away from yours. He didn't consider himself a nervous person, but something about being completely at your mercy was too much for him to stand.

His hands reached down to your thighs and circled your pelvis, just above your core, tickling the sensitive area there. You groaned in agony, your legs swaying in anticipation. He indulged you because he sensed your impatience. As the touch of his rough fingers ran across your sensitive bud, his eyes narrowed and a cry dropped from your eager lips. Then he rested his finger there, leaning in close to you and curling the digit against it again and over, causing your lips to open, body tensing, and stars flashing in your eyes.

"You like that?" He said in a low, sultry tone, eyes locked hard on your dazed expression. Of course he knew you loved that.

"That's my good girl. Feel good?" You nod, out of breath and dizzy. He grinds himself up against you and brushes his member up and down your wet folds, enclosing you in his embrace. Your body jerks, his smooth cock sliding against your excessively sensitive bud, eliciting a small sequence of aftershocks that lead him to tut and smile smugly. Then he pushes himself halfway into you and waits a moment for you to open up for him. Slowly, his hips pull back, almost entirely separating him from you before plunging in further deeper. He goes through the motions once more, sliding out only to sink back in with ease all the way to the hilt.

A string of curses fall from his lips as your hips grind against him haphazardly, too thrown by the cusp of your orgasm to be able to match his rhythmic thrusts. As the coil finally snaps you clamp down hard on his cock, a loud moan tearing out from you as you cum wholly wrapped up in him. For a moment his hips still, letting you fuck yourself through your orgasm before he still for a moment, head thrown back and words slipping out quickly, "Where do you want it?"

"I-In me." Your breathy moans of his name were enough to make him shoot his release, pouring it deep inside you just as you wanted as he reached his climax.

You collapsed on top of your husband, his member still deep inside you while the two of you caught your breaths, bodies fitting together like a puzzle.

You two stayed like this for a moment, letting yourselves peacefully bask into each other's embrace intimately by the fire and reminiscing what may be the start of the final days of being "just you two".

♡ Sanzu

Your heart was beating impossibly fast as your back slammed against the door of your bedroom, Sanzu reaching blindly to open it before he had his hands on yours once again. You were thrilled that your husband was just as needy as you are, after all, you were the one who first dragged him out of Bonten's afterparty at the club directly below your penthouse.

Your knees struck the edge of the mattresses as Sanzu pushed you into the bed. The metal bands on his fingers sent goosebumps on your skin as his fingers trailed down your back to unzip your dress. Sanzu broke the kiss to allow himself to soak in the sight of your body, concealed only in your panties.

You responded by reaching up to seize his undone tie, luring him into another lustful kiss while you took turns removing his clothing.

“I don’t have a condom.” Sanzu bit his lip after the lie, waiting for your response. He had been thinking about hitting it raw for several days now and he just couldn't wait any longer.

“It’s okay…” You insist, murmuring against his lips with a smirk. “I want this…” Your whisper is followed by a soft gasp when Sanzu pushes you to the bed. He groaned at the feeling of your soft breast pushing against his, as he pulled your panties off.

You reached your hands to cup his face in your hands, leaning up to press a hungry kiss to his lips. And that was when Sanzu pushed himself inside you. Your moans were synced, both consumed by the pent-up tension you two have been holding onto.

He precisely filled you up, pressing into every little crevice and nerve as he thrust. Your legs lifted up to his shoulders, the new angle allowing Sanzu's tip to nudge against your cervix. He let out a vulnerable moan, his hands fisting the mattresses tighter with every blow.

You moaned his name loudly, hands reaching above your head to brace yourself on the cushioned headboard.

Sanzu pressed a thumb on your clit in response, leaving open-mouthed kisses over your leg as he kept a steady pace.

“I’ll make you a daddy~” You flashed him a mischievous grin as your legs fell to wrap around his waist, locking his member pistoning inside you. Moans echoed through the room louder than you initially planned to, but Sanzu loved it.

Sanzu's body felt like it was on fire when the nickname escaped your lips. “You’ll make a pretty mommy.” He moaned in between thrusts, one hand gripping the headboard behind you for better traction.

“Let's cum together, sweetheart.” That was all you needed before you were pushed over the edge into an earth-shattering orgasm. Your nails sank onto Sanzu's shoulders, clinging onto him as he rode out your orgasm.

“So perfect, baby…” Your husband's moans were rough and low, choking on a grunt as he pushed his cum deep inside you.

♡ Ran

Even though you have only been at work for four hours, you are already regretting leaving your husband in bed, wishing nothing but to be in his arms right now. You weren't usually clingy to Ran, in fact, it was the other way around. However, today you felt a stronger yearning toward him than usual.

“What’re you thinking about, miss?” Her assistant jokes.

You shook it off, realizing you had been zoning out yet again. You’ve been thinking about so many things about Ran, but there’s no way you could tell her that.

“Nothing, just a little sleepy.” Yes, sleepy is the way to put it… “I’d be glad to take over for you, ma’am.” She insisted. “Are you sure? Alright, thank you so much. Ring me up if you need anything.” You smiled at your assistant before handing her the papers, waving on the way out.

1PM. Ran is usually in his own office at the Bonten HQ around this time. You cannot wait to go home to him tonight and you wanted to be sure that he'd feel the same way, thinking about nothing but hving you for the rest of his work.

So, on the spur of the moment, you scrolled through your personal "intimate" photo album, specifically selecting one in which you wore a set of black lace lingerie that Ran had purchased for you.

sent 3 images

miss you, honey ♡

You were pretty proud of your text, knowing that Ran might get in trouble once he opens it while at work.

However, as minutes pass, you start to wonder what he may be up to this time. You could only hope that it was a good time to send that text, or maybe he may really get in trouble for causing him such distraction.

“[ Y / N ]-sama, a package for you at the door.” Your assistant says over the intercom. You took a breath and placed your hand at the door. You didn’t even get the chance to look up before you heard an unmistakable voice clear their throat.

“Where’s my hello, darling?” You immediately blushed, your eyes hesitantly looking up to meet the source of the voice. And there was your husband, clad in all black. A few strands of his lilac hair hovered over his eyes as he leaned against the door frame, arms crossed together.

“Baby,” You breathed. Ran uncrossed his arms and locked you in his embrace. “You called for me, angel?” A slight rasp in his voice as he whispered drove you crazy.

“Ran...” You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and brought your lips up to meet him in a fiery kiss. He smiled against your lips, gladly obliging to your request as your lips spoke for the pent up desire you held for each other.

Your breaths picked up, as did your heart rates as Ran’s grip on your waist grew tighter, wanting more. Suddenly, his hands effortlessly hoisted you onto your desk. He knocked off a few things to make room for you on the surface.

As Ran’s fingers crept higher up your skirt, your legs spread wider to make space for his petite waist. Ran held you flush against his body, one hand roaming your back as you held each other close. “My naughty wife needs me…” He whispered, undoing his pants before bringing himself closer to you as he set your panties aside.

The tip of his shaft brushed your clit. You moved his member along your folds, thoroughly soaking the tip. Ran felt goosebumps in his arms as you both exchanged breathless gasps in pleasure.

“You’re such a good girl to me…” He whispered, kissing you softly. Slowly but surely, you took the entirety of his length just before he hits your cervix due to the position you're in. Ran slowly withdrew before slamming back into you in exactly the same spot he stopped at.

“Am I taking you well, honey? D’you hear that? Fuck, you dick me down so good.” You praised, whispering seductively into his ear. You felt Ran’s length throb inside of you upon hearing those words before he pushed one deep thrust with a grunt,

“Keep talking like that and I might just blow my load deep inside you.” You and Ran had always been careful. But his suggestion puts ideas in your head.

You are aware that you have a high chance of getting pregnant today, and that only pushed you into agreeing to your husband. Ran had always been vocal about dreaming of having children with you, but he is also very considerate and respectful of your decisions so he waited for the right time for you.

You are happy with the stability in your life and would dearly love to expand your small family with Ran.

He started to dive into you a little harder as he could feel himself releasing shortly. By how you clenched his shaft a lot tighter, he could tell that you were close to your climax too.

“Where do you want it, baby—?” Ran whispered, holding your body softly.

You wrapped your legs around his waist just in time. Ran came hard and suddenly, straining his moans against your lips in a kiss. That answered his question and was all he needed to pour his load into your pussy as you came together.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #mikey x reader smut #manjiro sano #kazutora x reader smut #kazutora hanemiya #hanma x reader smut #shuji hanma #sanzu x reader smut #sanzu haruchiyo #ran x reader smut #ran haitani

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sexhaver · 11 months ago

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Hyalopterous Lemure and Mystic Remora are really funny parallels to each other because they were both originally printed in Ice Age with comically misdrawn art. although they sound like gibberish, both "hyalopterous" and "lemure" are real words; the former means "having transparent wings", and the latter is a form of spirit or ghost from Roman religion. however, Dick Thomas made the same mistake as Google here and drew a hyalopterous lemur

since "lemur" and "lemure" are both different, real words, WOTC was pretty easily able to correct this one with a reprint. they also printed another Lemure in Time Spiral, mostly as an excuse for some Norin the Wary flavor text:

Mystic Remora, on the other hand... you know, i always thought it was weird that something as creature-like as a fish would count as an enchantment instead of a creature, but i (embarrassingly) recently learned that "remora" can also mean "drag" or "resistance" (apparently out of the belief of sailors that remoras stuck on their ships increased drag). this makes way more sense with the card type and effect than a fish. unfortunately, "remora" and "remora" are not different words[citation needed], and by the time the card was up for a reprint, it was because it was such a powerful and iconic EDH card that suddenly "fixing" the art would be way more trouble than it was worth. so they've kind of just rolled with it lmao

woe, fish be upon ye

#mtg #the real moral of the story is that art direction in ice age was the wild west

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spuirrelwiththeletterp · 24 days ago

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cutely slides in the yap post about their Sans AU that was previously accidently posted and jumps out of a window 😊

I've posted some art of my kid, but haven't given their name(I did) or any other info. I will eventually make a proper info post on them, but for now...

this booger right here is Error Print Sans, or just Print Error (or Error Print)

an absolute feck ton of words under the cut that's me just throwing up my thoughts ⇓

they originally started out as a passing thought that was just Error!Sans but CMYK colors, which evolved into a whole different character who didn't even have anything CMYK going on and I forgot about them for around two or three years until I re-entered my Undertale/UTMV phase recently. seriously disliked the character and the direction I took them in so I decided to start from scratch, took the original CMYK concept, and Print Error was born

am still working out their lore. I have ideas for some events that led to their current state, though how they got into the Anti-Void or why their attire changed after becoming an error is still beyond me

I called them Print Error because inkjet printers use CMYK ink and they're an error (very creative ik) they also feel weird being called just Print but they don't know why

even though I made its design with the CMYK color model in mind, its more CMY than CMYK due to actually not having any black, the way its body works just makes it look like it has black↴

Print Error's being is composed of 3 overlapping color layers (cyan, magenta, yellow) that each depict how much of that magic they have. less saturated colors means less magic left, and running out of all three colors will leave Print Error in a mindless "no color" or "all white" state where they can't use any magic unless they absorb color through physical contact

the alignment of Print Error's layers reflect their mental state. more misaligned layers means more mentally unstable or intense Print Error's emotions. more aligned layers means Print Error is more "there" in their own chaotically fragmented way, but layers rarely ever align too closely...

Their body is not affected by lighting, which means they stick out like a sore thumb with their bright colors and vantablack bones (it's already hard enough to just make the effect, shading them would just be an absolute nightmare 😭)

Print Error's strings are much thicker than a typical error's and come from both its eyes and mouth. Print Error can additionally absorb CMY colors from objects/beings with its strings

Print Error's attacks (bones, gaster/printing error blaster blasts) come in cyan, magenta, and yellow, which all have their own properties, but Print Error can't control what color their attack will be half of the time

Print Error is cold to the touch but has thermoanesthesia, so it doesn't know its a walking ice cube. its confused why others react so weird when coming in physical contact with it

Print Error does not understand social cues and personal space. they're often in a chaotically playful mood, though not always

Print Error is morally grey and can't tell the difference between good and bad, everything is neutral to it... apart from mistakes

Print Error's thoughts are inconsistent, usually jumping from one topic to another, having multiple thoughts at once, or not having any thoughts at all. it usually "lives in the moment", often going with the flow

Print Error's fragmented mind kind of leaves them absent minded most of the time, getting easily distracted and forgetting things like it's nobody's business. though they can often hold their focus if they're intrigued by something

even with a horrible memory, Print Error can remember things at random, though often it's something that it was previously intrigued by, or just something completely random. either way its gonna forget not even 2 seconds later

Print Error deeply believes that any mistake, no matter how small, can be catastrophic, causing them to have a sort of perfectionist mindset. they try to avoid making any mistakes, and punish themself over any mistakes they do make (leaving out details)

if Print Error witnesses someone else make a mistake, there's a chance their mind might not register it, but more often than not, will get seriously exasperated at the person for making a mistake and might even crash out of frustration. not because of the mistake itself, but more so out of fear for the person, though Print Error doesn't recognize the feeling nor reason behind it

though they do heal quicker than usual, it's a double-edged sword as it subconsciously encourages Print Error's more self-destructive behavior

I originally had Print Error have excellent depth perception, until I thought of Print Error seeing everything in the same layered effect others see them in. definitely gonna explore that idea!

there are many more ideas I have for Print Error but I don't know how to "coherently" include them so those are gonna be revealed over time 😉

If anyone wants to ask anything about Print Error, feel free to ask! I would love to answer any questions about them and I got nothing but time!

been stressing over this post for like two weeks and I just set a deadline so I wouldn't tweak things till the heat death of the universe

was heavily inspired by @ossiethegreat's Static Hue/Error!Color post to make my own rant on my own kid, so there might be some similarities cuz I am oh so ✨️creative✨️. link to the post because I absolutely loved reading its ideas and I love Hue

I AM SO SORRY OZ IF YOU DID GET A NOTIFICATION FOR THE UNFINISHED VERSION OF THIS POST THAT WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN I AM SO FRICKING SORRY 😭😭😭

I really tried to explain my thoughts and I feel like I failed in certain areas 😭 I struggle with explaining my ideas and especially the more in-depth ones, so some things might change if I find better ways to explain them

I definitely plan to share more of this gremlin, and especially if more than one person is interested in them!

also found some older drawings of Print Error I made previously but didn't share, so I'm sharing now because I don't think I would have shared these at any point in the future

also a lil lore one 👀 which I like but also don't like

#undertale au #undertale au oc #sans au #sans au oc #sans oc #utmv oc #utmv au #utau oc #utau au #undertale sans au #undertale sans oc #heck why not #ima create some tags for them too #Error Print Sans #Print Error Sans #Error!Print

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hearts4golbach · 7 months ago

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Hii could you please write a Johnnie Guilbert x fem reader where they meet at a club and just get along really well then Johnnie takes the reader home and they cuddle.

At First Sight.

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Singer!Reader.

a/n: wrote this while watching fellas big titty minecraft mod stream. i hope that says a lot about my persona.

"it's okay, y/n. just shake it out. ready?" your lead guitarist whispered to you. you nodded, proceeding to follow his lead. you shook out all your limbs, counting down from 5, to 4, to 3, to 2, and ending with one.

he looked at you and raised his eyebrow. "alright, let's do this."

you and your band had finally made it out of the garage. you were playing in downtown LA at a bar/club. you took one final deep breath before walking out onto the stage.

those who were sitting and watching clapped, cheering for every one of you as you strutted to your designated spots. "how's everybody doing tonight?" you questioned as the applause subsided. some people cheered, while others shouted a response. "that's good to hear! we're a local band called (band name), and we're so happy to be performing for you tonight! our first song is called (song name). i wrote this song whenever i was going through a really rough time, and it got me through that dark place. i hope you all like it!" i started to get insecure, feeling as if i was talking too much.

you made it through your first song easily, as if you had done this a million times before. you looked through the crowd, making sure to take in the sincere looks on everyone's face. one person caught your eye. he was sitting with two people, a man and a woman. he had raven colored hair that was parted to the side. he had smudged eyeshadow and eyeliner that accentuated his bright blue eyes. he gave you a small wave. you felt your face heat up as you shot him a smile and a wave. you thought he noticed you were staring. you couldn't help but keep glancing at him.

you ended the song, causing the growing crowd to erupt in applause. the guy cheered for you as well, whistling and clapping a little louder than everyone else. everyone in your band stood up and took a bow, knowing each group performing tonight could only perform one song. you waved goodbye to everyone before walking off of stage, followed by the rest of your band.

"holy shit, y/n! i dare say that was better than we've ever done during our garage concerts!" your drummer hugged you tight. you squeezed her back, thanking her endlessly.

"how are you guys feeling? our first real concert?! i'm so proud of you guys." you congratulated everyone as you all began to pack up. you were tired and ready for a drink. you and the gang had spent all day rehearsing this one song so there wouldn't be room for mistakes. it was worth it, but damn.

you packed your microphone up and brought it out to the van. you said goodnight to all of the members, since they decided to just go home instead of staying. you weren't planning on staying long, though. you were planning on calling an uber after a few drinks.

deep down, you were hoping that cute boy from the audience would come find you. you walked out from backstage, heading straight towards the bar. you ordered your usual, jack and coke. you sipped on it while watching other performers from the bar.

"hey, i really liked the performance." a kind, deep voice called from the left side of you.

you turned to come face to face with the guy that hadn't left your mind. now, you could make out his piercings and tattoos that you couldn't see through the bright headlights. you took in every inch of him from his shoes to the very top of his teased hair. he was wearing black boots with casual ripped, black skinny jeans. he also wore a my chemical romance shirt with a leopard print leather jacket over top. you thought all of his visible tattoos were cute, and wanted to see more. he looked like someone that wouldn't be caught dead without jewelry. he had red and black eye shadow smudged all over his eye, as well as squiggles trailing down to his cheek.

"hi, thank you so much. that was our very first live performance. i'm glad you liked it." you over explained, your only goal being to talk to him more.

"really? damn, you're a fucking natural." he smiled, climbing into the seat next to you and ordered. "can i have another long island and one of what she's having?"

the bartender nodded before turning away to make the drinks. "i try," you laughed, "to be fair, we've been working on that one song all damn day." you finished off your drink and set it on the counter. "by the way, i'm y/n."

the man shook your hand, "Im Johnnie. it's really nice to meet you." it felt as if sparks were flying whenever the two of you touched.

you smiled, "it's nice to meet you, too." Johnnie set your drink in front of you. "oh, thank you."

"you said you wrote that song whenever you were having a rough time?" he took a sip of his drink, looking at you over the glass. you nodded. "those lyrics were fucking great, i really like the way you think about shit. or, at least from what i've head." he back tracked.

you were taken aback from the compliment. your face flushed. "wow, i don't know what to say. thank you." you couldn't help but smile at him. you pointed at his shirt, "you know, MCR is one of my biggest inspirations."

his grin grew, "no shit, me too."

"you make music?!" your smile grows as well. you begin to like Johnnie the more you learn about him. he nodded in response. you quickly pulled out your phone and opened up spotify. "can i see?"

"of course." he smiled, taking the phone out of your hand and typing in 'Johnnie Guilbert.'

your jaw dropped as you noticed how many followers he had. "holy shit, you're huge." he blushed, not knowing how to respond. "i'll definitely be checking your shit out whenever i get the chance."

"that means a lot coming from someone someone talented as fuck." he patted your knee, sending chills down your spine.

"oh, shut up. as if you're not? look at you!" you pointed at his followers again.

"fair enough," he gave in. "maybe we should write a song together." he finished off the last of his drink before ordering another.

your jaw dropped, "that's the best idea i've ever heard."

"can i get your number?" he asked cautiously, not wanting to overstep.

you rolled your eyes. "obviously," you took his phone and entered your number, setting up your contact before texting yourself. "there. i noticed you in the crowd, where are the people you were sitting with?"

"they're out in the floor dancing or something, i told them i was going to try and find you." he shoved his phone in his pocket before glancing over to the dance floor.

"oh, okay. can i ask you a question?" you sip your drink.

"anything."

"why were you looking for me?" you were simply curious. but, you wondered if he had a deeper interest in you as you did him.

"i thought you were gorgeous. you just seemed like my kind of girl." he sighed, his drink was almost gone at this point. "honestly, i'm the most fucking anti social person you'll ever meet. i felt like if i didn't come talk to you i'd be making a huge mistake, so i kind of pushed myself out of that box." your heart melted, and it showed on your face. "what?" he laughed.

"i can just tell you're such an amazing fucking person. you really know how to talk to me, even though you claim to be an introvert." you tease, rubbing his arm.

the blush on his face grew darker. "i'm getting tired. I'm thinking about ordering an uber home." he seemed to hesitate for a moment before finishing his thought. "do you wanna come with?"

you agreed without hesitation. the alcohol was clearly getting to both of you, but neither of you cared. he carefully intertwined his fingers with yours. it was far from awkward between you and Johnnie. you stood outside with him, the warm summer breeze refreshing compared to the stuffy club.

"there's this ukulele i've had for as long as i can remember. i've been writing songs on it also for as long as i can remember. music has been my passion my whole life." you rambled because Johnnie wanted to listen. "i've always dreamt of being up on stage, and now i'm finally climbing my way up."

"damn, i'm really proud of you, y/n. i know it's a huge step to be performing in front of strangers." Johnnie lit a cigarette, hitting it once before offering it to me. "do you smoke?"

"mhm," you hummed, taking the cig with your free hand. you took a long drag, staring off into the distance as you exhaled a large cloud of smoke. the nicotine buzz hit you, increasing the feeling of the alcohol in your system. "i know, i couldn't have gotten to where i am now without my best friends. the people in my band are the ones who really motivated me to actually get out there, you know?" he nodded.

the uber pulled up less than 30 seconds later. you crawled in the back with Johnnie. he gave his address to the driver. you leaned your head on his shoulder, the drowsiness wanting to take over. "do you think this is weird?" he giggled, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"do i think what's weird?" you looked up at him through your eyelashes.

"that we met less than an hour ago and.." he gestured down towards me. "i don't know. i don't think it's weird." he began to back himself up.

"i think i've heard weirder happen. i already really like you, and we've just met. i don't find that weird." you comforted him, caressing his arm gently.

he leaned his head on top of yours, "I'm glad, cause me too. I'm glad this isn't one sided."

you blinked and suddenly the uber driver was parked right outside of Johnnies house. unsurprisingly, it was an extremely nice home. Johnnie gently shook your shoulder, informing you you were at his house. he helped you climb out of the car before leading you up to the front door.

"your house is so fucking nice." you mention as you wait for him to let you inside.

"thank you, i have 2 roommates, so this isn't just my house." he admitted, opening the front door. "do you need anything to drink?" he was beginning to noticeably slur his words.

"no, i'm okay. thank you. i'm just ready to sleep, to be honest." you rubbed your eye as you leaned against the counter.

Johnnie grabbed a bottled water out of the fridge and cracked it open. "well, i'm glad we're on the same page." he chugged the water before leading you up to his room.

his room was fairly empty. there was a closet, but the door was closed. he had a computer set up on one side of the room and a neatly made bed on the other. the window was covered by dark black curtains and the desk was covered in makeup. he had a few stray cameras laying around on a side table, as well.

"i take it you do more than just make music." you mention, taking a seat next to Johnnie on his bed.

"uh, yeah," he scratched his neck, "i do youtube, too. and stream. i do it all, really."

"somebody seems busy as fuck," you yawned.

he let a small smile show on his face, "maybe a little. are you staying the night with me." you nodded in response, making sure he wanted you to, as well. "good. do you want something to change into, your concert outfit doesn't look very comfy."

before you could deny or accept, he was tossing you pajama pants and a t shirt out of his closet. you thanked him. "you are one of the sweetest people i've ever met, do you know that?"

"i think it's just the alcohol talking," he laughed, changing into pajama pants himself. you shook your head vigorously.

he laid down, not taking his time before pulling you up close to him. you took in the new scents on johnnies skin, making sure to take a mental note of every one of them. you buried your head in his chest as you draped your arm over him. he had one arm a wrapped around your back while the other hand was running through your hair. you quickly let yourself fall asleep. Johnnie comforted you in a way no one ever had before. you began to think you could get used to Johnnie being around.

#fanfiction #fanfic #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #jake webber #tara yummy #johnnie guilbert smut #hearts4golbach #fluff #club #emo fashion #2000s emo #emo #alt #goth

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thedarks1de · 9 months ago

Text

Professor

!professor Nanami x !student reader

Ignore the mistakes!

Part 2 is here

1 part

С тех пор, как в колледже сменился профессор физики, у вас возникли серьезные проблемы с этим предметом. На самом деле у тебя всегда были проблемы — ты никогда не понимал физику, но старый профессор, пожилой человек, ставил тебе хорошие оценки за хорошие деньги. Все, что вам нужно было сделать, это подсунуть ему несколько долларов, и высшая оценка была у вас в кармане. Ты был счастлив, профессор был счастлив, все были счастливы... но рано или поздно все меняется. Этот профессор уволился, и его место занял новый.

Professor Nanami Kento. A stern, serious, nerdy man. He looked to be in his early thirties. He always went in strict suits, wore print ties and dark green glasses. And worst of all, he didn't take bribes.

You failed several important tests that affect your final grade. You had no idea what to do. You could, of course, just start studying his subject and fix your grade, but you never understood physics, it's unlikely you'd be able to do that… But you'll find a way to crack Professor Nanami. Maybe if you try hard enough, he'll take the money and give you a top grade in physics. Yeah, you should definitely try to bribe him again.

You found him in the physics room, which was no surprise. Taking a deep breath, you stepped inside. When Kento saw you, he put his notebooks aside.

— «Ms. y/n, did you want something?» — He asked, looking at you through dark green glasses.

You started to fidget for some reason, the words wouldn't come out of your throat, and you just stared at him in silence, biting your lower lip.

— "Ms. y/n?" - he snapped his fingers, bringing you back down to earth.

— "Ah… uh… Yes." - You muttered. "I mean my grades…"

— "Oh, you've finally come to fix them?"

— "How much do you want?"

— "What…?"

— "I'll pay you as much as you ask, just…"

— "I don't take bribes, Ms. y/n. We've already discussed this, haven't we?"

— "But…"

— "No "buts". Learn the material and correct your grades."

You walked out of the professor's office, slamming the door loudly. You felt a great sense of disappointment and despair. All of your hopes that you would be able to get good grades without difficulty have been dashed. You have to face the harsh reality: you will have to learn to understand physics on your own, to absorb the material, to spend a lot of time and effort to assimilate new knowledge. No, you would find another way. You didn't want to spend your days and nights sitting behind books.

— "That Nanami pisses me off!" — you complained to your friend about your teacher. Every class, he bombarded you with questions, gave you bad grades, and generally pissed you off with his existence.

— "Why don't you just start studying?" — A friend asked, sipping her coffee.

— "No. No way! I'll find a way to crack it." — You said.

— "Maybe… and though no, you won't." — sighed her friend, shaking her head.

— "What are you talking about? What won't I do?" — You asked interestedly.

— "Well… Have sex with him."

— "…What?"

— "Almost all the professors in our college fuck female students and give them good grades."

— "What do you mean almost all of them?!"

— "Well, Professor Gojo, Professor Geto, Professor Sukuna, and Fushiguro. You'd know how many they've already fucked. The students themselves come to them and ask for it. I think Professor Nanami's the same way. Just seduce him, get him in bed, and he'll give you the highest grade of the year."

You pondered, listening to your friend. The idea of sleeping with a professor for a grade sounded absurd and unacceptable. But the thought began to slowly creep into your thoughts. But you couldn't believe that something like this was happening at your college.

You didn't want to stoop to that, but on the other hand, you found it more… more attractive than sitting at a textbook. But Professor Nanami wasn't someone who could be seduced that easily.

A week had passed and you were determined to sleep with your processor. You were struggling with mixed feelings of fear and excitement. You even began to watch Nanami more closely, trying to figure out what might have attracted him. While Nanami was still that strict, serious, and nerdy teacher, he was also quite an attractive man. And even very sexy.

After class was over, you went to his office again. Once inside, you closed the door behind you.

Nanami looked up at you. You bit your lip and silently stepped closer to him.

— "What is it, Miss y/n? If you've come to offer me a bribe again, then…"

— "No, Professor… That's not what I came for."

— "Oh? Well, I'm listening to you." He took off his glasses and put them on the table. Nanami looked straight into your eyes and you felt uneasy, but you don't intend to give up.

— "I came to offer you my body..."

— "I beg your pardon?" Kento arched an eyebrow.

— "You can have me… well… to sleep with me… in general, I offer you my body in exchange for a high assessment…"

Nanami was silent. His face expressed obvious bewilderment and indignation, and this indicated that he would not accept your offer in any case.

— "Miss y/n… As a student, you should strive for knowledge, not use your body… for the sake of personal gain, to offer such a thing to a professor."

You have experienced a sharp sense of shame and chagrin. Your hopes for an easy way out of a difficult situation have collapsed again. You could feel your hands shaking and your heart beating so loudly and strongly that it seemed Nanami could hear it. You looked at this man, barely holding back tears.

— "I can pretend that you didn't offer me anything like that. Now go and study the topics you're lagging behind on." — Nanami remained serious as he said this.

— "I'm sorry…" — You ran out of his office with tears in your eyes. You were ashamed, very, very ashamed. How could you offer yourself to a professor? Why didn't you think that he would refuse? Damn it, now he definitely thinks that you're not only dumb, but also a slut offering to fuck yourself for a high score.

For the next few days, you stopped going to Nanami's classes because you were ashamed to even look at him. You've disgraced yourself and you don't know what to do next.

With a sigh, you closed your eyes and promised yourself that now you will study seriously and really immerse yourself in the material. You need to find a tutor who will teach you physics.

And you went back to Nanami's office. You were very nervous and afraid to look at him.

— "Miss y/n?"

You stood in front of Kento, feeling confused and confused.

— "Hello, Professor…"

— "What is it this time? And why did you skip classes?"

— "Ah, I'm sorry… I… Professor Nanami, I wanted to ask you to study with me additionally. If it's not a problem for you…"

— "So you've decided to start studying after all? This is encouraging."

Nanami looked at his wristwatch. He frowned, and you started to get even more nervous, afraid of rejection.

Kento looked at you again.

— "I don't stay here after the lesson is over," he said.

You lowered your head. So he's not going to teach you?

— "If you want additional classes, you can come to my house. We'll work out there," Kento said.

— "At your place?" — You specified.

Nanami nodded. You've been thinking a little bit. So he's inviting you to his house?

— "Good!" you nodded enthusiastically.

— "In that case, shall we go right now or will you make up some kind of schedule?" asked Kento, leaving the college with you.

— "Maybe if you're free, we can start today?"

— "All right. My car is in the parking lot, let's go."

You and Nanami walked to the parking lot where his car was parked. Kento opened the backseat door for you to get in. You're blushing a little. What a gentleman he is.

You drove for 30 minutes in complete silence until you finally reached the professor's huge house.

#jjk #jjk nanami #jjk smut #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #kento nanami #nanami x reader smut

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charmsponies · 3 months ago

Text

🩷💚 Custom Fizzy Takara Doll 💚🩷

Created using the 3d model made by Otteroflore!

Wip description and pics below the cut ^^

So I am a COMPLETE AND TOTAL NOOB when it comes to technology. and I made a lot of mistakes trying to print this Fizzy due to my own incompetence and also everyone online assuming you already kinda know something about 3d printing if you own a printer. We recieved a 3d printer as a gift and I knew Nothing about it so I reallly struggled trying to figure it out. Also my computer is ancient and had to download a like 5 year old out of date version of a 3d printing program (cura) to even get it to work. took an entire week and several failed tries T-T

FINALLY we got an attempt that was salvageable! And had to rip out all of the support beams from it. But even then there were some major mistakes:

It did not print hollow. Nobody online explained that if you want it to be hollow it wasn’t enough that the model itself had hollow parts, you have to turn off a hole setting in cura and mess with the infill or something

For some reason the bodies were Very Fucked Up? The middle and sides printed Weirdly to where, once the supports were all removed, They had no sides/shoulders. Wuh oh.

The way I combatted this was by taking extra filament plastic and a soldering iron gun to weald it on and do literal plastic surgery.

(A before and after) it looks like complete ass and is a little janky but. please be kind to her it was a major operation 😭😭😭

Then sanded things down a bit more. I know people say to sand it down until you can’t see the lines anymore but im an impatient motherfucker and only had a little bit of sandpaper so :P

Then it was painting time! Used my own fizzy to color match, painted her green with a white nose and a milkshake cutiemark. I also glued stick on gems into her eye sockets

Then the hairing! Used a sewing needle heated up with a lighter to easily poke holes into her skull! The lovely user minticat on Mlptp provided great reference images of what a takara’s hair length and hair holes look like, so I did my best to mimic that

Her hair is the closest color matches for fizzy that Shimmerlocks had: Cotton Candy pink, Angel white, Heart Throb 2.0 pink and Gusty green. Now the head isnt actually all that hollow (I hollowed it out best I could with my soldering iron but still not the best) so I couldn’t use the usual hairing method where you punch the hair in and then glue it from inside. I realized I needed to attach glue to the hair itself and then get it into the holes.

At first I was too much of a scardey cat to use my actual hairing needle in fear it would break on the plastic, so I tried a very infuriating method of putting glue on hair strands and painstakingly trying to push them into the holes with a pin. This was awful. I quickly gave up, braved up and grabbed my rehairing needle. Punched the hair in after applying glue to the hair, and it worked out surprisingly well!

All that was left was to 1) String the doll using elastic bands to tie the legs and arms into place but still make sure they were moveable. 2) GENTLY trim, wash and style the hair (using buggys special method of getting tiny curly curls. 3) Figure out the head

I originally wanted to make a neckplug for her out of clay as you see here but it didnt work too well. The plastic of the doll is much harder than the clay and it kept breaking after trying to put the head on. So I accepted I would have to glue the head on in place (It cant turn, unlike the arms and legs 😔) You can also see i used some clay to patch up a crack in the plastic that formed (which I had to paint over again)

FINAL STEP was making the dress!!! I forgot to take ANY pictures of that ùwú Not that pictures would be useful to you guys as I kinds fuckin winged it and made up a pattern as I went. I think its adorable, but in the future I would make it a little bigger (the back doesnt fit quite right). Maybe if theres interest I’ll fix up the pattern so its better and share another doll dress tutorial with the class? 😳 sound off in the comments below haha

#my little pony #mlp #generation 1 #gen 1 #g1 #takara #toys #custom #fizzy #my photos #my ponies

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costelloschoice · 10 months ago

Note

I absolutely adore your fics and was thinking about a Yandere Mizu fanfic idea (if you like the idea as well of course) Keep up the good work you're amazing 🥰💜

-Thank you for the request, i made a little something short yet sweet <3 -sorry it took so long, I managed to fuck up my legs by falling from ice (don't ask) so i've been focusing on feeling better :}

Red Means I Love You Yandere!Mizu x fem!reader -warnings: toxic behavior, possessive over reader -hope you enjoy :]

She never felt this way about anyone else. It was scary.

Mizu believed that love wasn't for her. Love was harsh to her, least till you came along. You were such a breath of fresh air, a beautiful rose in a garden of weeds. And she wanted your sweetness all to herself.

You were like a small deer. A fragile and gentle being. Something so pure and sweet, weak and defenseless. So pretty up close but easily scared…Yet she managed to get close to this deer. And you didn’t run away…In fact you decided to come closer to her. She was a hunter, killing many, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t appreciate your beauty.

She thought she had a little crush on you. I mean, you were so nice to her and showed her kindness that she always dreamed of. But seeing how Taigen would try to flirt with you, made her feel an unbridled rage. How the hell does this man think he is? First, he has Akemi and now you? No. He doesn’t get to have who ever he wants. Maybe because of Mizu’s childhood he tortured her, but he doesn’t deserve a girl like you.

Mizu would Taigen away, threating him to stay away from you. That Mizu knows men like him will use someone as beautiful as you. Everything about you was perfect, Mizu couldn't find a flaw if she tried. It seems like you've stolen her heart from her. Taigen would get offended and walk away. Like a buck trying to win over a doe deer but failing due to the human the deer was so close to.

In her eyes, no one could be around you or talk to you for too long. She would barely let Taigen speak to you and Ringo was allowed to talk to you and only to help you with an injuries.

When Boss Hamata sent his men to attack Mizu and the women at the tea house, she tried to protect you the best she could. You refused to stay in the basement and help Mizu fight against the corrupted boss and his men. She told you to stay back and hide with the rest...but of course you didn't listen.

You were a foolish girl, but like all humans, we make mistakes.

You were on the ground, bloodied and you tried to stop the man’s katana from going into you. From the blood spots, it looks like you were getting weaker and weaker by the second and wouldn’t be able to last any longer. You were a poor, helpless baby dear against the big bad wolf…You couldn’t find this man off alone. It was pathetic, but in a cute way.

Mizu, trying to have a grip on the situation, immediately went after the man. Ripping the man off of you before stabbing him repeatedly. She was the hunter who took the wolf down to protect her doe deer. She didn’t care if he was dead, she just kept stabbing till her anger subsided.

Now covered in this man’s blood, she turns to see you. You looked petrified. She thought it was because of the man but really it was because of her. She was used to everyone looking at her that way…but your gaze hurt the most. Her deer was surely to run off in the woods and never been seen again from her.

“Oh my dove..” Mizu spoke, moving to you. Her bloody hand caressed your cheek. The smell of iron was thick and heavy, making you flinch and gag internally. You were disgusted by these actions, her violent and ruthless killing. Yes he hurt you but at some point it’s uncalled for….but bigger shouldn’t be choicers.

“You’re safe..” she whispered, placing a kissing to your forehead. A red lip print on your forehead. It felt so wrong but nice after your near death experience.

“My small doe…You’re mine to protect..” she whispered into your skin, continuing to place kisses on your forehead.

“You’re mine.”

She said with aggression present in her tone. You just nodded, what else could you do? She could easily hurt you is you protested. You didn’t wish to die at the hands of your protector.

“I’m yours…”

“All mine..” she mumbled. Mizu caressed the soft hair of her doe deer, calming down the easily frightened creature. She perfect, sweet, weak and fragile deer now safe in her arms again, where she belongs.

#bes mizu #mizu x reader #bes #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #mizu #mizu x you #blue eye samurai x reader #blue eye samurai x you #wlw

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kurosstuff · 9 months ago

Note

Can you write Lute using a strap on and domming fem!reader with it? Like idc if it’s used rough or gently, the idea of her using one it just 🫠 🍯

HELP- HONESTLY- FAIR- cause yeah I get it

Warning(s): straps, rough, Lute is *mean* but tries her best to be nice. Dirty talk. Wing play(?) Idk what else

I wrote this at like 3 am yesterday so if I made mistakes? I'm sorry♡♡

Lute x F!reader

Lute was anything but soft and gentle. Even if she even wanted to be. She can't- she hugs to tight. Her kisses to rough- the way she handles you.

Rough. But she tries.

She'd never purposely hurt you. Why would she? She loves you. She does certainly try. She's gotten better, but she's bound to be rough af one point or another

Even now, with how she's roughly pounding into you. "Fuck~ tight as always" snarling in your neck biting you roughly fucking you into the table snickering at your cries "God your gushing~ your just sucking me right back into your pussy~" she growled out kissing you roughly panting pounding rougher into you

"What- what's got you so eager~?" You moaned sobbing out from the many rounds beforehand you knew. Like always. You're gonna be bruised up. Hand prints all over you fron how roughly held your waist keeping you from moving too much on the table.

"What? Can I not be?" She hummed, rutting into you faster, watching how you clung to the table as it shook violently under you sobbing out her name "can I not fuck my mate~? I'm always eager to please you aren't I?" She hummed speeding up almost even more into you panting "what? Should I leave you like this? Almost so fucked out of your mind?" She purred out-

"n-no-! Please~"

Smirking, she growled, pounding rougher. "Yeah? Need it? Need my dick in you, pretty girl?" Seeing you sob out nodding, begging for her, the table shook violently, creaking in such a violent fashion. "Maybe after this ill fuck you in the living room~? Claim you anywhere and everywhere here?" She hummed softly gently kissing a bite a rare gentle move during a intimate moment

"Do it then~" you moaned out, stuttering at every drag of her pumping into you - how she barely let you have a moment to breathe. Snarling, she nodded. Her eyes blown fully her wings puffing up expanding- at the sight you knew. You were in for it-

Easily, she pulled out, fully ignoring how you sobbed out moaning for her to come back easily, flipping you onto your stomach, pushing back in fully pounding just as rough a hand moving to rub at your wings roughly pushing where they met. "Yeah, that's it~" she groaned out, growling panting heavily at the sight of you arching more for her, hitting deeper inside. Smirking, she hummed, knowing how rough to mess with your wings to not hurt you. "Doing so good~ my good girl~ my good fucking dove~"

Each cry. Each moan made her smug-, making her hungry for more - getting lost into the feeling, almost feeling like she was more possessive than usual - sobbing out moaning her name knowing that mating season? Was coming up. Made you wonder if that's what got her so worked up-

If its gonna be like this? You can't wait to spend your first mating season with her as your eyes rolled back cumming all over her cock- slumping under her panting as she finally stopped her rough pace. Rubbing your sides in an attempt to be gentle

"Good good~ I've got you" kissing your wing, gently cleaning you up gently, knowing exactly what to do after the many talks(and examples) of aftercare you taught her

"Lute-" You panted out, feeling her pull you close to her chest, nuzzling your neck. "hm~?" Purring out softly eyes following where you pointed at "you broke the table.. again" panting softly

"..fuck."

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin lute #lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute #lute smut #EVENT

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tmntxthings · 1 year ago

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heyy so I literally got this kind of idea like not really long ago, how about a donnie x reader fic/scenario/prompt where donnie makes a new AI hologram assistant (the reader) but ends up falling in love with them ?? (kind of blade runner 2049 inspired)

thanks ! luv your work (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

一∑ Dizzy・゜・。

author’s notes: so this may not be exactly what you asked for, this donnie is a bit… cagey? protective? overbearing! but hopefully the ending is a good indication that he did indeed fall?? :D

warnings: fluff, platonic to romantic, cursing, very unedited, & super short >.<

word association: sentience, slight yandere!donnie, light projection, holograms, creation, possessive, obsessive, fluff, change, feelings

song: “ Round & Round by Selena Gomez ”

—————————————————————————

“Y/n”

Donnie waited for you to appear in his vision as he was glued to a new construct. Both hands busy with small tools that required the utmost care and attention. And patience.

He waited a couple of more seconds before a crease appeared between his draw on brows.

Seriously?

“Y/n!”

Donnie shouted louder. There was no way you couldn’t hear him. He was this close to pushing up his goggles but like magic you apparated in his vision. A tiny version of yourself in the corner of his eyesight, “Yyyessss?”

You drawled, dipping forward dramatically but not obscuring his view of his hands so he could continue his work.

“Where are you?”

Habitually it seemed he had to ask you this. He was like this with Shelldon too. But ever since you started getting curious and venturing out of his lab, he just had to at least check in…

He would have just checked your holo-tracker but his hands were busy at the moment. So calling out your name was more efficient. His wrist tech was voice automated and connected to your system easily enough.

“And why did you ignore my first call?”

He questioned further, eyebrows still drawn. His tongue peeked out between his lips as he carefully pieced together two small bits in the right formation.

“I thought we agreed Donnie. If you didn’t need me, I could explore the perimeters!”

You glitched momentarily, moving from the corner to right in the center of his vision before going back to your original place with a raised brow.

“Yes yes. That was the agreement but addendum six was—“

You groaned.

“Y/n it’s been… how long has it been..?”

He just knew it had to be four or so hours since you last checked in. Which meant he could call! As per agreement! If you didn’t check in then he would worry and a time frame was even added into fine print for this very purpose! Donatello prided himself on thinking of every-little-thing!

“It’s been 30 minutes.”

His eyes widened. Looking at you now and squinting.

No way.

You sighed dramatically as you brought up the time. Sure enough. It was only 2:30 in the morning. Not 5.

“Ah, well my mistake.”

Donnie placed down the tools and pushed up his goggles. The zoomed in version of his project gone, as well as the time and your miniature self.

He could still hear you though with his headphones on.

“You didn’t answer my first question…”

He still wanted to know.

“I think that should be void considering you can just check now!”

Your voice was exasperated but it had a teasing quality.

“I’d rather you tell me,”

“With your brothers!”

“What?!”

No response. “Y/n?” No response still. He grumbled bringing his goggles back down and yep, you were gone. He shoved them back up and shot out of his chair.

Two years ago. Donatello went a step further from robots. A step further from Shelldon, definitely still a very proud achievement of his! You were a hologram program. One that connected just like Shelldon to all of Donatello’s devices and gadgets. But you didn’t have a physical body. You were a pure light so to speak. And while Donnie had agreed for you to explore…he hadn’t really disclosed another sentient being in the lab to his brothers.

Selfishly… Donnie had created you solely for him. While Shelldon had been sort of a prank but definitely for his brothers… you weren’t.

“Y/n.” Shelldon whispered harshly as he peeked out of the doorway from his lab. You were nowhere in the vicinity. He scowled. “If this is supposed to be funny, let me be very clear! It is not!” Then Donnie started to rush with his words while he crept further out into the lair.

“Those dumdums have no idea of your existence Y/n! For all we know they could— I don’t know! Attack?!”

You were radio silent. And it annoyed to Donnie to know end. You were ignoring him on purpose. Dragging him away from work to chase you down. And he would do the dragging this time, right back to his side if he must!

The further he went, the more apprehensive he felt. He could hear music. He could hear hollering. It was not the right cues that said ‘Y/n is just pranking me! They wouldn’t reveal themselves without my go-ahead! Surely!’ Yeah none of that was feeling close to happening right now. Donatello’s teeth ground together as he gave up being stealthy in favor of finally seeing what the fuck was happening.

And boy was he in for a shock.

As he cleared a corner that gave him a full view of the arcade that stretched down a distance away. The DDR (Dance Dance Revolution) was on, bass pumping throughout the room. A beautiful voice beckoning him closer like a siren’s song. Where Raph was dancing on one side. And you on the other.

Donnie stopped short. His breath catching as he watched your hologram dance, when your shoes met the correct arrows your whole body took on a glow of purple, blue, red, and yellow. It reflected throughout your entire being. You hit perfect after perfect, head tipped back in laughter as Raph started to trip up, losing his footing and sweating profusely. You on the other hand would never tire.

You were completely energized. You were having fun! It shined in your eyes. It reminded him of how you were when he first created you. When everything he introduced to you excited you.

Donnie felt like such an ass. Keeping you tucked away from the rest of the lair. From his brothers. From the world! As he watched you now he knew he was going to have to change. Because he surely wasn’t letting you go completely. But maybe he needed to loosen up, him and his contract.

Because he wanted you to be like this more. To smile more. To be exuberant and full of life! And he couldn’t stop smiling as you tilted your head towards him. You didn’t falter, you just smiled brighter and winked as the song came to a close and the points were tallied up.

Of course anything created by Donnie would be extraordinary at dancing. Therefore it didn’t surprise him one bit that you received a maximum score of 10,000,000. What did throw him off guard was the rapid pace of his heart. And maybe a bit dizzy? He hadn’t even been the one dancing!

Yeah this wasn’t good!

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cellythefloshie · 1 year ago

Text

;; Mama Bear Dedicated to myself. Because this has been my passion project.

Summary: With her son Parker set to skate in his first NHL game with the Boston Bruins, Katherine Stacy travels to Boston. When her plans are derailed by her ex-husband, Katherine is forced to spend a night on the town alone where she meets Jeremy who is more than willing to show her a good time. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (22 v. 40). Divorcee. Alcohol Consumption. One Night Stand. Oral Sex - Fem Receiving. Mirror Reflection. Protected Sex. - If I missed something, yell at me. ABOUT THE OC’s: Katherine: AKA Katie. Face Claim: Bryce Dallas Howard. 40's. Mother of Parker Waylon-Stacy. Parker: Face Claim: N/A. Boston Bruin's Rookie. Dorthey: AKA Dottie. Face Claim: Kate Hudson. Best friend of Katherine. Word Count: 12k+

A/N: Would you believe me if I said that this fic was 4 months in the making? @hagelpoint-3821 and @hockeyboysimagines -- I do not know how you have put up with me teasing this fic for so long. This fic is one that ignited a fire of excitement in me, and to be able to share that excitement with the two of you is something I will always appreciate. You both know that this fic could have easily become a full length novel - and I did have to cut back on this things to assure I could get this out before the new year. I won't have to but you guys with persistent updates about the progress anymore! Thank you so much for your ongoing support and encouragement. With that said, this fic is not going to appeal to everyone. It is unlike anything I have written before, and is unlike anything I have seen in this community before. So please consider liking and relogging if you enjoy, and if doesn't end up being your cup of tea - thank you for giving it a shot. And please note that I did not do a full edit of this fic. I will be editing any mistakes I see upon rereads. I hope you all enjoy reading this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.

As a woman traveling alone, there was one thing Katherine Stacy made sure to do: she created a detailed itinerary. Everything from her flights to hotel check-in times and the sights she was planning to see in the great city of Boston were listed in detail on two neatly organized pages. And she made sure to print 3 copies. One for herself, that she carried in her black Kate Spade purse. One for her ex-husband, Ronnie, who was meant to join her on her trip. And the last, for her best friend, Dottie, who remained back home in Toronto - but was the one person she knew she could count on if something did not go according to plan.

Which was why, as Katie called her from her dimly lit hotel room in the middle of the day - when she was supposed to be touring the Museum of Fine Arts - Dottie answered with such urgency you would have thought her home was on fire. Her mass of blonde curls was the first thing you could see when she answered the video call. They fell into her face that was too close to the screen, her words rushed so close together they slurred into one. “What’sgoingon?Whyisitsodark?Thisisnottheartmuseum.”

Katie propped her phone up against her suitcase, the camera obstructed by the bag’s handle as she rushed to get one of the lights, a string of apologies leaving her lips. When she returned to the end of her bed, she fixed the camera just right before her hands dipped into her bag and she continued to unpack her belongings and store them away in the hotel room’s dresser. It was only then, with her hands busy and a heavy breath rocking her shoulders, that Katie told Dottie why she was calling.

“He brought her.”

That was all Dottie needed to hear for her eyes to be sent wide in disbelief, “He. Did. Not.” Dottie was always nothing short of eccentric and supportive, but that support only had grown stronger since Katie’s divorce. And since Ronnie started dating again.

Not even a year into their separation before their divorce was finalized, he had started dating Monica. A beautiful, blonde, twenty-something, esthetician from Etoboike who had weaseled her way into the Waylon family before Katie could even realize what was happening. Which included joining Ronnie on their trip to Boston. Which was supposed to be just the two of them. One where they were coming together as parents to celebrate the success of their son, Parker Waylon-Stacy, who was set to play his first game in the NHL the next evening.

Worst of all, he hadn’t told her she was coming. Monica had been a nasty surprise when she met him at The Westland for lunch. Katie knew the young woman could see the shock all over her face when she spotted her, and while her attendance was an unpleasant surprise, she had tried to be civil. Yet, Katie could only tolerate so much.

So she canceled their dinner reservations at the Citizen Public House & Oyster Bar and did not make her planned trip to the art museum. Instead, she had taken a taxi back to the Courtyard by Marriott where she was staying for her short visit in Boston. What she was going to do now, she didn’t know, but Katie knew she needed to call Dottie.

“I knew you should have just come with me Dot-”

Dottie cut in, her words strained by her frustration. “I would have ripped his testicles off with my bare hands-”

“Dot!”

“What?” Dottie was taken back, her brows furrowed.

“He’s allowed to be dating, we aren’t married.” She and Ronnie hadn’t been together since their son had turned sixteen. That was almost two years ago now, and Katie didn’t miss a single minute of being married to him. She never would.

“But this trip was supposed to be a family trip,” Dottie reminded, her hand coming up to run over her face with a sigh, “for Parker.”

“Well,” Katie chewed at the inside of her cheek, her hand coming up to push her long red hair back out of her face, “he’s marrying her.”

All Katie could hear was a long, low growl of a no, the video call going dark as Dottie either dropped the phone face down onto a surface or accidentally turned her camera off at the shock of the news. When the sight of her returned, her hand was over her mouth, and her eyes were wide.

“You should have seen her ring,” Katie told her, her hands wringing the fabric of one of her blouses in her hands like a wet rag, “it was, wow.”

The band was gold, and the diamond was big. Bigger than what she had on her engagement ring and wedding band combined. It was so big it was almost gaudy and hard to miss. It was eye-catching with every single one of Monica’s movements, and all Katie could think of at the sight of it was: Does Parker know?

It was a question that haunted her as she put down her blouse, pulled her pajamas from the bottom of her bag, and began to undress with little care that Dottie was still on the other end of the call. They had been friends since middle school. There was little Dottie hadn’t seen or didn’t know.

“Whoa, whoa,” Dottie spoke, the shock fading at the sight of Katie stripping out of her jeans, “what are you doing?”

Katie stepped out of her jeans, leaving them in a heap on the floor as she held her satin bottoms in her hand, “Turning in?”

“NO, you aren’t going to let that selfish prick ruin this trip for you,” Dottie spoke in a firm tone, her finger pointing right into the lens of her camera.

“What am I supposed to do, Dottie?” Katie sighed, throwing up her hands in defeat and accidentally throwing her pajamas across the room, “I’m just going to order room service and watch some paper view-”

“No, no. You’re going to go out and enjoy yourself.”

A sigh rocked through Katie’s entire body, her hand falling into her hands as she fought back a frustrated sob. She’s a divorced mother in a city she doesn’t know. Her son was off with his teammates doing god knows what on a team-building outing. Her ex-husband was off celebrating his engagement. And she was alone.

Hot tears pricked at green eyes in the shadow of her hands, but Katie didn’t let them fall. Deep, heavy breaths from years of hiding her frustrations with her husband kept them at bay, but Dottie noticed. She always noticed.

Which was why her voice had softened when she spoke again, “Show me what’s in your suitcase?”

“My suitcase?” Katie croaked out, her hands coming down to rest against the pale freckles skin of her thighs.

“Yes, your suitcase.”

Stepping forward, Katie took her phone in her hold and flipped her camera around for Dottie to see. The suitcase was mostly empty now, save for the jacket she had packed at the bottom. The rest of her clothes she had tucked away in the dresser drawers. She had packed just enough clothes to last the three-day trip. Her main outfit was a pair of jeans, boots, and a t-shirt she planned to wear under a jersey to the hockey game the following night. Everything else was meant to be worn during sightseeing, or on the flight home. And every bit of it was practical.

“No, no, love. Why do you do this to yourself?” Dottie sighed, her shoulder slouching forward. Dottie, herself, was a bit of a fashionista. She always wore the latest trends and was always seen in the brightest colors. Because, well, Dottie liked to be seen. “Where is the sext shit we bought last time we went out?”

“Back home?” Katie spoke in more of a question, her brow raising as if where it was wasn’t already obvious. “I wasn’t coming out here intending to seduce my ex-husband, Dot.”

“You’re in Boston, Katie! A city full of eligible bachelors you can forget about the moment you fly home.”

“Dot-”

“When was the last time you got laid, Katie?”

Her stomach sunk, her mouth going dry at the question. Dottie already knew the answer to that question, but she was trying to use it to motivate her now, even if Katie hated it when she did that.

“You would have heard about it if it happened.”

“You’ve been divorced for over a year, Katie - separated for two. It’s time to ditch the vibrator.”

Katie let out a long, frustrated huff, fighting the urge to toss her phone onto the pillow. She knew exactly where this was going. “I’m not using that stupid dating app-”

Tinder. Bumble. Plenty of Fish. Hinge. If it was a dating app, she was on it, and failing miserably at it. Dottie’s daughter, Megan, had set her up with the accounts. Helped her pick every flattering picture and even wrote her biography to cater to the current dating scene. And it had only led her to two types of people, men just like her husband who were divorced and looking for their next way to mother them, or were young men - too young for her to comfortably consider - with mommy issues. And both had gifted her far too many unsolicited pictures of their cocks.

Just the thought of opening the app made her want to gag.

“Then don’t,” Dottie spoke, her tone assuring and not forceful. “Just do this one thing for yourself. Go buy a nice dress and a pair of underwear that haven’t seen postpartum. Something sexy. Something to make you feel confident, and go out to dinner. Take yourself out. Hell, even if it’s just the hotel bar. Get a drink and try to have a little fun. For me.”

Dottie dipped her chin down and pouted her lips. Growing up, it was always how Dottie had gotten her way, and sometimes it still worked. Just like it had then.

“Fine.”

“Good, now, I gotta go,” she spoke, and her screen was suddenly a rush of color as she was on the move, “The twins have a game tonight.”

Dottie was a mother of three. Megan, 18, the same as Parker, was off at university, but the twins were only 12. And had a very extensive hockey schedule to maintain, which kept Dottie’s schedule busy and her hands full.

“Alright, alright, I won’t keep you,” Katie waved her hand at the phone casually, “Tell Brandon and Brayden Auntie Katie is cheering for them-”

“Don’t think this gets you off the hook,” Dottie added quickly, “I want a selfie of you looking sexy at the bar. Love you. Kisses!”

Shopping alone was something Katie loathed. Nothing ever fit her proportions right, especially after the rollercoaster that was going from a size 2 to pregnant to struggling with her weight postpartum, to a grueling weight loss journey that brought her to a weight that she could be both healthy and happy with. But Katie wasn’t skin and bones. She was soft and curvy with an ass that was maybe a little bigger than she would like, and breasts that didn’t match the fashion industries’ standards of what her body was supposed to look like. It was that fact that left her rotating out of each boutique's change room, trying on one dress and then the next before she found one dress that fit her body just enough for her to confidently make the purchase.

It was a little black dress that stopped just below the knee. It was sleeveless, and the deep vee neckline showed off her cleavage with a little help from some strategically placed fashion tape. The dress hugged her curves without restricting her stride and left her feeling sexy as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror and took her time to do her hair and makeup for her night on the town.

Aka. Her night at the hotel bar.

It was only a short walk from the elevator to the bar's entrance. The dark bar filled with the warm amber glow of the lights that hung above each table, and along the high traffic points of the bar. Normally, she wouldn’t consider going to a place like this. Katie liked to be able to see what she was eating and drinking. But tonight she was desperate. Desperate and alone with no thought in her mind that the latter would change. Besides, she just needed to be there long enough to take a few pictures and leave without an empty stomach. With those two facts in mind, Katie walked into the bar with the confidence only a mother could have and seated herself down the bar.

It’s the most lit area of the establishment, her seat was right beside one of the beautiful bronze light fixtures. It set her face aglow, her bright red lipstick and dark mascara framed eyes illuminated so fully she feared she might look like a clown, but she tried not to focus on the insecurities of dining out alone. Instead, Katie pulled out her phone and texted a quick picture of herself to Dottie. She looked a little more anxious than sexy, but it proved she was out. Then, she took a picture of the light fixture before placing her phone screen down on the bar top and welcomed a menu as it was placed in front of her.

The barkeep was nice, and if she was younger she might have mistaken his kindness for flirtation. But Katie knew better. It was his job to be friendly. Good service meant better tips, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t need the confidence boost. It, at the very least, left her smiling as she looked over her menu and ordered a drink to start: a Negroni Sbagliato.

It would be the first of two during her meal. The first left her more comfortable being out in Boston alone. The second gave her the confidence to lift her phone from the bartop. Her fingers hovered over the darkened screen before she awakened its brightness with the single click of the home button. Her eyes had to squint at the harshness of its light, her eyes having adjusted to the bar’s moody atmosphere before she could be greeted with the series of notifications from Dottie.

She was at her son’s hockey game, but she had taken the time to respond to the photo with a series of flame emojis. Quick, but effective support that had Katie’s finger leaning towards the Tinder app that she had tucked on her last page of applications.

The screen came to life with an even harsher light, leaving Katie to flinch in her seat as she tried to hide her screen beneath her arm. At her age, there was nothing more embarrassing, in her mind, than being on a dating app. She looked down at the first profile carefully as she brought her phone down to her lap, her thumb swiping left on the first eligible bachelor who didn’t look all that eligible when she was sure the woman in the picture was his wife, and not his sister or a friend. Then the second, third, and fourth men in her radius were all at the bottom of her age range and looked all too young.

In her position, Katie knew she shouldn’t be so picky. She was in Boston for only a few days. Alone for one night. If anyone wanted to meet her for a drink, or at the very least provided a pleasant series of text messages before ghosting her when she found out she was a mother, she would be able to label the night as a success.

With each passing profile, Katie fell further into defeat and accepted that she would be enjoying her night alone. And she accepted that as she sipped at what was her second drink, only for it to gently choke at her throat at a soft, unfamiliar voice spoken at her side.

“I’d swipe right on you.”

The words sent a blossom of heat through Katie from her heart to her cheeks and the tips of her toes. Unsolicited, they should have flooded her with dread. But they were flirtatious and left her giddy before she could even offer the man more than a glance. It had been a long time since someone hit on her at a bar, and it left her sitting taller in her seat. Confident.

That was until she looked right, and to the man who had greeted her with his flirtatious words. Her stomach was left unsettled. He wasn’t ugly. Far from it with his tall, lean stature, chestnut brown hair, and eyes a warm brown hue that could so easily tempt her into comfort if she let them. But he was young. Younger than anything in her age range on any of the dating apps on her phone. He looked older than her son, but she may have mistaken them for the same age if it wasn’t for the beginnings of a beard along the angles of his jawline.

As quickly as her stomach fluttered with butterflies, she was flooded with disappointment. She wouldn’t even entertain a man as young as he was. But Katie was too polite.

“That’s very flattering,” there was a hint of a smile in her voice as she looked down at the bartop to hide the blush that still threatened to creep up on her cheeks. “But I’m pretty sure I’m old enough to be your mother.”

The statement seemed to amuse him, his smile growing as he stepped up to sit on the barstool next to her. He, whoever he was, was getting too comfortable. It left Katie shifting in her seat, suddenly all too aware of how her heels hooked on her stool and how her thighs pressed together uncomfortably as her ass was cradled by her seat.

“I don’t believe it,” he wore a boyish grin as he turned his body just enough to give her all of his attention, “You here, looking like that…”

Katie could feel his eyes drag up and down the length of his body, admiring her figure and how it looked in her little black dress.

“Being anyone’s mother would be a shock to me,” he finished his train of thought, his words still on the verge of flirtation.

Katie wanted to accept it. To feel flattered by his interest however great or mild it may be. But there was an anxiety that bubbled deep in her stomach. One that left her paranoid that this could be a joke. Shifting in her seat, Katie did a glance around the bar. Looking from table to table she looked for anyone that the man beside her could be associated with. But the bar was quiet. There was a table with what looked like a bridal party that would be pregaming before hitting the town. Then, there was a table of old-timers who may have been regulars or retirees visiting the city. Neither were crowds he would be a part of. That was unless he was homosexual. But, if he were, he wouldn’t be seated beside her at the bar, hitting on her.

“You’re too kind,” she spoke slowly, trying to be polite.

“What can I say, my mama raised me right,” he smiled a boyish grin, “which is why I’d like to buy you a drink.”

Katie’s heart fluttered in her chest at the offer, her head cocking to the side as she spoke; “You don’t have to.”

“I insist.”

Katie had to give him one thing, he was confident. She could see it in how his dark eyes didn’t tear away from her, and how his shoulders remained strong instead of slouching with each of her flattered but deflective responses. He could have taken her brief remarks as being disinterested - which in a way she was disinterested if only because of his apparent age - yet, he persisted.

Reaching up with his hand, the mystery Bostonian flagged down the bartender and met him with a smile. He ordered himself a drink, before nodding towards Katie and requesting another for her as well. Then, he offered him his credit card. Katie’s eyes lingered on the piece of plastic as it was passed from one man to the other. It was just a typical credit card. Nothing fancy that would indicate that he was a man with exceptionally deep pockets, and her stomach filled with dread as she realized that she had probably let some poor college student pay for her drink.

It left her mouth tasting sour as her third drink of the evening was placed in front of her. So sour, that she almost rejected it. But it was already paid for, so she accepted it and decided that if he ordered a second for himself, she would pay for it.

“Thanks,” she spoke across the short distance between them, her body turning to be a little more open to a conversation.

Talking to him was the least that she could do.

“What brings you to Boston…” he started, his words trailing off. He wasn’t done with his question, yet, he was asking her for something already.

Blankly, Katie stared at him, unsure of what exactly he was fishing for until it hit her. He wanted to know her name. She could feel her face go red with the realization, and redder when she hesitated when she almost said her full name, Katherine.

Katherine felt old. Stale. Everything she was trying to avoid being, so she gave him her nickname instead, “Katie.”

“What brings you to Boston, Katie?”

“Visiting family,” she kept her answer brief without the messy details. And without the mention of having a son that she was sure was only a few years younger than him. “What about you…”

“Jeremy,” he was quicker to answer, his hand reaching out halfway. She smiled at the gesture, reaching out and meeting his hand with hers in a simple handshake before she withdrew to wrap her fist around her glass.

“What brings you to Boston, Jeremy?”

“Nothing too exciting, just work.”

Just work. Such a simple answer. Straightforward. No details. And she could have asked for more, but he met her level of secrecy - of mystery - all the while making his intentions known. He didn’t need to disclose his life to her, or her to him, because he couldn’t care less if he was just looking for a woman to take back to his room. But before she could confirm her theory to be true, he pressed her for more.

“If you’re here to visit with family, why are you alone?”

Katie wasn’t sure what she heard in Jeremy’s voice when he asked that question. If it was merely curiosity or pity, she hadn’t known him long enough to know. But it left her smile wavering as she answered him, “Busy schedules,” she shrugged her shoulders to give off a feeling of carelessness even though it was still bothering her, “I’ll see them all in the morning.”

“How early?”

If she had been taking a sip of her drink, Katie would have choked again. “You aren’t very discreet.”

“I can’t afford to be. A beautiful woman like yourself, you could fly off tomorrow and I’d never see you again. At least I can know I took my shot.”

Katie cocked her hair to the side, her bright auburn hair cascading down between her shoulders as her eyes looked at Jeremy in disbelief. He was the very definition of a golden retriever. Happy, waiting with the greatest anticipation that if he was a dog, his tail would be wagging. And he was waiting for her to throw her a bone.

Biting her lip, Katie placed her drink down on the bartop and her gaze followed after. She shouldn’t have been considering it. Yet there she was, her hands came to rest around her phone and gripped it tight as one thought was clear in her mind. She needed to call Dottie.

“Can you excuse me for just a moment?” she asked slowly.

Jeremy answered with a curt nod, his smile unwavering as he watched her with his wide brown eyes.

With his permission, Katie couldn’t get out of her chair fast enough. She slid from the stool, and her heels slipping on the hardwood. It left her unsteady for a moment, her hand reaching out to catch herself on the bar, but before she could reach the polished wood a pair of large, warm hands had wrapped around her waist.

The heat of his touch blossomed through Katie’s belly, sending her breath to hitch in the depths of her throat. She wanted nothing more but to hide her surely reddened face in her hands with embarrassment. She wanted to curse herself for her clumsiness, but she was frozen in his hold as he breathed out a whisper she could barely hear but could feel against her cheek; “Don’t worry. I got you.”

His touch.

His words.

It was almost enough to make her shudder. But with one shallow, forced breath Katie found her composure and gave his arm a careful squeeze and a thank you that he might not have been able to hear. Then, she was drying back, her steps quick as she moved for the privacy of the woman’s washroom. It was there she was able to pull out her phone and call Dottie. But Jeremy’s touch was not forgotten, it’s warmth remained deep in her belly, lingering.

“Where’s the fire?” There was an alertness in Dottie’s voice, nothing but the peaks of her face visible on the screen as she lay in the dark. Katie could only see more of her tired features as Dottie squinted and brought the phone closer to her face. “Wait,” her tone was one of disbelief, “are you still out?”

“Yeah,” Katie’s voice was uneven as she reached a hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “and I think I have a problem.”

“If it’s your card, I told you so. I knew you should have called the bank before you went-”

Shaking her head, Katie cut her off, “No, no, there’s a guy?”

Dottie perked up, any sign of sleepiness void from her face in an instant. “A guy? What are you calling me for? Take him to bed!”

Her excitement was contagious, not even the complaints from Dottie’s tired husband who lay beside her in bed could spoil the mood. Katie wanted to be able to revert back to her younger self. To squeal with excitement over a man. A man who thought she was sexy - who wanted to sleep with her with no strings attached. But it wasn’t that simple.

“It’s just that,” Katie chewed her lip, a heavy sigh rocking her shoulders, “he’s young.”

“How young is young?” Dottie asked slowly, and cautiously as they waded into dangerous territories together.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, “they didn’t card him. Maybe, twenty-five. No more than thirty.”

“Shit,” Dottie cursed, the single word drawn out and earning another grunt of disapproval from her husband, “he cute?”

“Very.”

“Well, I mean… Thirty isn’t too bad.”

“That’s IF he’s thirty, Dot,” she emphasized, her eyes wide as she dropped her voice lower at the sound of someone entering the washroom.

“What’s the worst-case scenario?” Dottie asked.

Katie thought for a moment, her teeth chewing her lip as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. As a woman, there were many horrible scenarios a woman could end up in when dating. Ending up dead was the worst of the worst, but she didn’t take it to that extreme. “Worst case? He’s a twenty-one-year-old fuckboy like the ones we warned Megan about before she went off to college. And I end up with the clap.”

Dottie’s laugh was lost on the flush of the toilet in the stall next to Katie, and the rush of the sink as the stranger in the bathroom washed their hands. It was a mess of noise, but Katie could still make out Dottie’s next question, “Best case?”

Katie hesitated as she threw her head back to rest against the stall. She was embarrassed by the answer.

Dottie answered for her, “Best case you get laid for the first time in what is it? Two years?”

Hearing it outloud sent her stomach sinking? Had it really been that long?

Katie cursed under her breath, her head hanging low. When had she let her life get so pathetic? For years, her life had one priority, raising her son. And she had done a good job, he was successful, about to play in his first NHL game after starting his season with the Bruins’ AHL affiliate. But she never really moved on from her divorce, and from being a mom. Her ex-husband was engaged, and ready to start a new family. But she hadn’t even fucked someone anyone since her divorce. Even then, she and her husband hadn’t even shared a bed before their divorce. She couldn’t even recall the last time they slept together, even if she wanted to.

From her throat erupted a long, unsatisfied groan. Her mind quickly fell on a decision that she may come to regret.

“Dot,” she sighed, “is it fucked up if I take him back to my room?”

Silence hung between the two of them for a moment. Dottie processed the decision, and Katie waited anxiously for her friend to tell her if she was making the wrong decision.

“Teach the kid a thing or two,” Dottie spoke, the playful nature of her words lifting a weight of insecurity from her shoulders.

“Dottie, thank you,” she spoke quickly, one hand going to the lock on the door while the other ended the call.

With the decision made, with a little help from her friend, all Katie could do now was hope that Jeremy had waited for her at the bar. If he hadn’t she couldn’t blame him for leaving. Maybe she was older than she looked from a distance. Or he had just come to the bar to kill time before a night out in Boston, and she was merely the entertainment. She couldn’t let herself get too hung up on him if he were gone, but thankfully, she didn’t have too. Jeremy remained at the bar. Standing instead of propped up on his stool, his hand slipping something into his back pocket on her approach.

And Katie, she didn’t waste any time being coy. “I don’t have reservations until 11.”

The smile that was beginning to feel like a welcome constant on Jeremy’s features grew at her words. Katie wasn’t sure if it was the question he was expecting, but it was clear that it was the one that he was hoping for and it flooded her stomach with butterflies.

She was going to do it.

She was going to take this attractive young man back to her room.

“Let me just pay my tab,” Katie told him, her hands already on her purse to dig out her credit card. She merely pressed her jump against the thin, cold plastic card when the bartender threw his towel over his shoulder and raised his hand to reject her payment. He didn’t want it. Katie’s brow furrowed, then it hit her. It had already been paid for.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she was quick to quip. Katie knew she should have been thanking him, but she couldn’t help but feel a little insulted. She was a grown woman. Successful in her own right. She was more than capable of paying for her own meal.

“It’s nothing, really,” Jeremy shrugged it off, his arm sliding behind her to rest on her back so effortlessly it was as if they had come to the bar together.

“Let me pay you back,” Katie insisted, earning the gentle pressure of his hand against the small of her back as he began to lead her out to the lobby. She almost scoffed. As if he knew where her room was - because she wasn’t going back to his. If this was going to happen, it needed to happen on her terms. That also meant, shoving her hand into her wallet and shoving a fist full of American money in his direction.

Jeremy continued to refuse, his one hand reaching out to guide her hand back towards her open wallet. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m more than capable of paying for my own dinner-” She voiced, ready to fight him on it further, but his answer stopped her in place.

“Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.”

Katie stood in the middle of the hotel lobby, her head slightly cocked to the side as she slid out of Jeremy’s reach. He only took a few strides before looking back at her with such warmth in her eyes she thought she might melt. Jeremy was sweet. Too sweet. Acting in every way he had wanted her husband to when they were married, and he was just a young man. It was a cruel thing in a way. For the universe to taunt her with him, but she would let herself enjoy him, if only for the night.

“Come on, I’m up on the fourth floor,” as she spoke, Katie’s words softened. She wouldn’t be fighting him about her bill again. If he wanted to be a gentleman, she was going to let him.

They boarded the elevator together, Katie drawing her key card and moving to the right, and Jeremy boarding and leaning against the far left wall. Scanning her card, the elevator doors shut, the two of them alone together for the first time as the elevator began its slow ascent.

The movement made it feel as if her heart was sinking to the depths of her stomach, her anxiety building, as she leaned back against the right side of the elevator directly across from Jeremy. He was smiling still, watching her, admiring her. And she couldn’t help but smile too. It was contagious.

Her smile had him smiling wider.

Then, he pushed off the wall of the elevator and closed the short distance between them. He moved so quickly her anxieties didn’t have enough time to worsen, nor did they ease. Her heart raced in the depth of her chest as his hands found her waist, drawing her in from the cold support of the elevator wall and into the strength of his body. He was lean, maybe even a little too lean for her liking, but she could feel how strong he was as her body was pulled flush with his. Katie could feel it first in his grasp, as Jeremy’s fingertips pressed into the curves of her waist. Then again, as her hands braced against his chest, her own careful touch sliding up - feeling his pectorals flex in the process - and around before linking behind his neck. Her tough welcomed Jeremy in, and with him came his kiss.

Katie had to press up onto her toes to meet it, even in her heels. Teetering on the toes of her heels as Jeremy leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. She had expected it to be a desperate kiss. One that was sloppy, and would leave her face wet and her eyes rolling, but she was wrong. Jeremy kissed her slowly, both hands on her hips for one moment, the next one had risen to stroke over the soft skin of her cheek. His thumb dragged over the smooth flesh, and down to catch on her chin, drawing her mouth open. Katie had to choke back a moan at the feeling of his tongue slipping in between parted lips. The warm stroke of his tongue infiltrated her mouth, the depth of the kiss leaving her legs weak as the elevator door chimed.

They had reached her floor.

She licked her lips as she drew back, her hands falling to her clutch to fumble with its contents for her room key. If she was fumbling with her purse, she wouldn’t have to look up and risk anyone else seeing the red lipstick that quickly became a mess on her face. She could feel how it was smudged off her lips, and she was sure that if she looked to Jeremy who now followed behind her like a shadow, that it would be smeared over his lips as well.

But she didn’t look up. Not until she got to the door of her room and she took a deep breath. Once she crossed the threshold, there would be no going back. The thought left her on the verge of vomiting as she heard the lock click, and her hand reached for the door handle. She was nervous, more than that. Anxious. She was anxious. But there was an excitement that left her shivering as she led Jeremy into her hotel room.

If he was going to kiss her like that, she couldn’t wait to see what else he intended to do with her. But first-

“Do you want another drink?” Katie asked him quickly as she came to stand in front of the small console table in the entryway. She placed her clutch there, and her key and had intended to peel away from it to move to the small bar in her room, but she found herself trapped between it and Jeremy’s body as the door shut behind her.

Hands splaying out over the table, Katie braced herself there as Jeremy’s hands returned to her body. One snake around her waist, easing her to lean back into him while the other carefully pushed her loose auburn curls away from the pale skin from her neck. Her eyes went wide, fixated on the horrible piece of art that hung on the wall as his hot breath encroached on her neck. It washed over her in heated waves. The hot moisture was almost enough to make her sweat, but instead Jeremy left her melting. His kiss was slow against her neck. Peppering at first before his lips were dragging down her skin, leaving hot trails down to her collarbone and back up again.

Her heart fluttered. Then it pounded. So loudly, all Katie could hear was her heartbeat in her ears. It left her eyes fluttering shut, her mind focused on nothing but the kiss of his lips and the touch of his hands on her body. He caressed her curves, gripped at her flesh and kissed every bit of exposed skin on her neck, throat and shoulders. And it all left her melting, her mind fuzzy, and any bit of inhibition was ready to leave her and let him do as he pleased with her body. That was until she left his hand encroached on the hem of her dress. The warm touch of his hand on the sensitive skin of her thigh sent her head into a panic.

This was the beginning of foreplay.

Katie should have expected it, she should have been looking forward to it. But it left her nerves raw. In all the years she had been married to Ronnie, foreplay had been forgotten. Sex was an obligation and it was quick. A mere tool used to please her husband while she was left to finish herself off in the shower or beside him after he had fallen asleep in bed. Back then, it didn’t matter if she was dressed in lingerie or pajamas. If she had a fresh shave, or hadn’t shaved for weeks. Ronnie didn’t care - or atleast, he always said he didn’t. But now, as a stranger’s hands were so eager to explore every inch of her body, it left her self conscious.

“I’ve got whiskey at the bar,” Katie breathed out quickly, her knees weak as she stepped away from him and quickly moved for the bar.

She was met by Jeremy’s low chuckle,“I’m not that bad looking, am I?”

“No - no, it’s not that - I’m sorry,” Katie apologized, her hand grasping at one of the little bottles of rum from the bar, “I haven’t done anything like this in a long time. I’m just a little nervous.”

“How long’s it been?” His words were casual, his confidence unwavering even as she found her so close to plummeting.

“Since when?” She asked slowly, seeking clarification if only to bide herself more time. Katie didn’t want to have to tell him the truth, but she wasn’t a liar.

“Since you’ve had casual sex?”

“You really don’t want to know,” she countered.

Omission was not the same as lying.

Looking up from the bar top, and the bottle of whiskey in her hand that she had yet to uncork her eyes rose to look at Jeremy who had found his way to the end of her bed. He had seated himself down, his shoes kicked off his feet, and he leaned back on his elbows, lounging casually in the bed that had yet to be slept in.

While he laid back, so casually, that he could have let his head lul back and let himself stare at the ceiling. But even as he relaxed there, waiting for her nerves to be put at ease by a little liquid courage, his soft brown eyes were fixated on her. Her grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, a quivering breath coursing through her body as she held his stare. It was soft, alluring in a way that left her ready to answer anything he may ask of her and it left her curing under her breath. It was a dangerous thing, just how easy to trust he was.

Pouring her drink, straight whiskey into her glass, she sipped the room temperature alcohol back and let it burn. Then, under the blaze of it consuming her, Katie answered, “Twenty years.”

“Bullshit.”

Katie’s lips pressed together in a small smile, the shock on his ace coaxing an innocent shrug from her shoulders.

“You don’t look a day over thirty.”

“Now that is bullshit,” she pointed at him, her lips spreading into a wider grin now.

“You look incredible. That dress, your body. What can I say? You caught my attention. But I bet that dress looks even better on the floor.”

Katie swallowed back the lump that quickly formed in her throat as his words. She was very self conscious about her body. It changed drastically over the years. Once she was skinny, flat and narrow in no way the healthiest version of herself. But it was also the one that had carried her child, and left her with curves she didn’t want and scars only her ex-husband had seen. And now she was going to share it with Jeremy, a man who she was sure still had so much to learn about a woman’s body. It was a terrifying thought. One that hung in the back of her mind as she abandoned her drink on the bar and stepped out of her heels.

Barefoot, she took careful strides towards the bed, her demeanor caught somewhere between confident and terrified, but it caught his attention all the same. Katie knew she had caught his eye when his smile tested the limits of how far it could spread over his cheeks as Jeremy sat up from where he leaned. He moved slowly to the edge of the bed, his legs spreading just enough for Katie to stand between them.

With a careful, final step, Katie stood between his legs and looked down at him. Her heart pounded deep in her chest, so hard and so rapidly she thought her ribs were about to rattle. And in her chest, she could feel her very last inhale struggling to creep its way back up her throat in the calm of an exhale. It burned in her lungs, the nerves of undressing in front of him smothering her. That was, until she felt the warms of Jeremy’s hands find her body, and in an instant she calmed.

She exhaled slowly through slightly parted lips as her eyes fell shut. In the darkness it brought, Katie fixated on the warmth of Jeremy’s touch. It dragged over her curves, tracing each rise and fall with his fingers and palms before each of his hands settled on her broad hips. There, he gripped her gently and guided her steps in a small circle so she stood with her back to him.

Katie raised up her arms slowly, her hands dragging up her own neck and tangled into her auburn strands as she drew them away from the zipper of her dress. Her breath hitched again, but only for a moment, in the back of her throat as she felt his fingers pinch at the zipper and drag it down. He inched it down slowly, and Katie could feel the black fabric begin to fall away from her skin. And as the warm fabric fell away, the cold air of the room kissed her skin. It sent a shiver coursing up her spine, her entire body shuttering as the fabric hit the ground, leaving her in nothing but a pair of black lace pair of panties.

They were brand new. The tag was in the trash bin in the bathroom. And Katie would be forever thankful that she had bought them when she bought the dress instead of wearing something she had packed. If she had been wearing anything else, she may have recoiled from his touch, but instead, as she turned in place to face him, Katie radiated confidence.

He could see almost all of her, from her stretch marks to the freckles on her skin. Yet, Jeremy’s touch didn’t recoil, his hands continued to explore the expanse of her body and his dark eyes didn’t look away. Instead, they traced her every curve on the way back up to her face that was left blank from the nerves that came from waiting for his reaction. Katie was sure that Jeremy hadn’t seen a body like hers before. So old, so flawed, so-

Her thoughts were broken by Jeremy’s slow, soft spoken words. “Yeah, looks much better on the floor,” Jeremy punctuated his words with the slow swipe of his tongue over his lip as his warm gaze dragged up and down the length of her body. His complement dissolved any feeling of nervousness, of insecurity, that had consumed Katie. Her joints had been weak, and her heart racing, but he brought her calm.

In that calm, Katie found her confidence. Her teeth bit down on her lower lip, her mind racing as she tried to determine what exactly her first move would be – and then she took it.

One step, and then another, Katie brought her legs up to kneel on the bed, the mattress shifting beneath her weight as she straddled Jeremy’s lap. The denim on his dark jeans was rough against the inside of her thighs as his hands helped guide her down into his lap. Jeremy’s arms constricted around her, drawing her nearly naked body flush to his. Katie could feel his hot breath against her cheek, her inhale drawing in the sweet scent of alcohol before she stole a kiss from his lips.

Katie wasted no time with sweetness or caution. Instead she kissed him with such an insatiable hunger, she knew tasting him on her tongue wouldn’t be enough. But it was a start. Each deep kiss and stroke of her tongue against his left his stubble to drag over the sensitive skin of her jaw and cheeks. It was rough, scratching against her skin and contrasting the tender movements of his hands as his warm touch moved up over the curves of her body. Jeremy’s touch settled on the broad curve of her hips, his fingers digging into the soft and supple flesh. And it was the only encouragement she needed to coax the subtle roll of her hips over the roughness of her jeans.

Quickly, Katie became intoxicated by his kiss, by his touch and the very feeling of him between her legs. It began with the friction of his fly against the crotch of her panties, the subtle friction sparking the beginnings of her arousal. And then she felt him. His cock stiffened in the confines of his jeans, growing and becoming a thick outline that pressed up into the thick denim that divided them. Katie dragged her core up and down his clothed length, a shudder taking her body as a soft moan was coaxed from her lips. And it left Jeremy smiling as he pulled back just enough to tug off his t-shirt.

Her eyes looked him up and down in a quick glance. Jeremy was fit. With his chest muscles flexing, the outline of his abs clear and his biceps building as he tossed his t-shirt aside, Katie almost tucked her tail and ran. He wasn’t an Adonis of a man, but he was intimidating in every way. Especially, while she was no idyllic beauty herself.

“That’s just,” she exhaled a long, desperate breath, “not even fair.”

Jeremy’s grin grew wider, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter, as he picked her up and flipped her to lay back against the comfort of the bed. The action left her breathless, her hands scrambling against the bed to ease herself upright until she felt Jeremy’s hand flat against her stomach to keep her in place as she lay just beneath the comfort of the hotel room pillows. She lay there panting for a moment, her hair a mess against the bed and her eyes fixated on the ceiling as she felt the bed shift, and Jeremy settle between her legs.

“Just take a second, relax,” Jeremy’s hot words washed over the inside of her thighs, and her core clenched.

The room around her seemed to spin as she lay there, her lips parted in disbelief as she felt his fingers hook on the black lace of her panties and dragged them down the length of her legs. She could feel the warm, wet puddle of her arousal as it dragged down against her inner thigh, and her stomach knotted as she felt the warmth of his breath encroach on her needy core. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had been between her legs - if one had been at all, because she knew her husband never had been. But Jeremy didn’t hesitate.

He lay on the bed on his stomach between her legs, his one hand sliding down from her hip, over the red curls of hair that trailed down over her pelvis and down to the slick folds between her thighs. He stroked her slowly, with two fingers barely brushing her slit before parting her with his fingers and tracing the sweet arousal at her core. Jeremy teashed her there, her heart racing as she tried so desperately to be calm. Her heart pounded, and her teeth care down on her lower lip in a firm bite, the pain a little distraction from the insecurities that threatened to consume her. She in no way felt prepared for this of all things. It was supposed to be a quick fuck, but then she felt him. The warmth of his tongue stroked over the entrance of her cunt and she moaned.

It ripped up her throat before she could stop it, the heat and wetness of his long tongue a stark contrast to the colder temperature of the hotel room. And the sound only seemed to fuel him. He delved into her as if he was dehydrated and she was all he had to drink. His tongue parted her folds, and delved into her core leaving her cunt dripping with his saliva. His hands wound around her waist, one moving over the thick red curls of her hair as he blindingly fumbled for her clit as his face was buried between her thighs.

Reaching down, her hand took hold of his carefully. Her fingers slid along his, gripping them carefully as she guided him to just the right spot. But once she guided him there, Katie’s touch didn’t leave him. Her hand remained resting over his. It kept his pressure even, and his motion just right as he rubbed her in slow circles. The action wound her up, the pleasure building like a wind up toy. Each stroke of his tongue, and every rotation of his fingers left her burning pleasure to coil in her stomach and soon she was seeing stars. She was so close to the brink of her pleasure, that her toes were curling against the sheets and her thighs threatened to close in on his ears. But that was where he left her, on the verge of her climax, as he trailed sloppy kisses down the inside of her thighs before he could push up and pull as his belt.

Pushing up onto her elbows, she watched as she pulled his belt free, and worked his jeans and his boxer briefs down his legs together. It was hard not to stare, to admire the muscles of his body as she fished through his pocket or his wallet, and then the condom that was tucked in its folds.

The wrapper became discarded on the bed beside her, and he worked the latex onto his cock, ready to take his place between her legs again, but she didn’t let him. Katie felt too guilty, selfish even, for having his face buried between her legs, and it had her pushing up from her place with a sudden surge of confidence. Her hands found the strength of Jeremy’s chest, a playful shove knocking him back to lay against the bed so she could climb into his lap once more. She took in a steady breath, her nose wrinkling for a moment as it crossed her mind that she may be too old for what she had in mind, but it didn’t stop her.

With a single hand, Katie reached down between their bodies and took hold of his cock in her hand. She stoke it slowly, once and then again before she brought it to the entrance of her core. The mere pressure of the tip of her cock threatened to send her legs trembling before she could take him. If it were anyone else, Katie might have given up and let him take her plainly on her back knowing full well it would get the job done for her. But Katie persevered. She eased herself down onto him slowly, her eager core accommodating him so effortlessly it left her moaning. And once she felt his warmth against her ass, and had consumed him into the depths of her core, Katie began to ride him.

Her hands braced herself against the slender strength of her chest as her hips rolled. She moved in a slow and steady rhythm, the friction sending pleasure boiling through her entire body. Katie became lost in the feeling of hip hips rising to meet her body in a gentle pound. It was all she could fixate on, even as her legs began to tremble and the muscles in her legs began to burn. She could hear each subtle impact, the meeting of skin, and it became a symphony of sounds that mixed with her desperate breath and the soft sounds that she coaxed from Jeremy’s lips. He reeled on the bed beneath her, his warm eyes admiring her body as his hands gripped her hips and fingers sunk into the flesh of her ass. He encouraged her every move, guiding her up and down his cock, but she couldn’t hide how her legs trembled.

Jeremy grinned wide, his head leaning back against the pillow as he let out a trembling breath of words, “Look so pretty taking my cock, you wanna see?”

Katie found herself at a loss for words as she slid down the length of his cock and froze with him deep inside her. Her breaths quaked under each uneven breath, and her mind was left fuzzy by the mere feeling of being so full of him. And all she could do was nod.

Carefully, Jeremy eased her from his cock, and guided her to rest on all fours on the bed. In front of her at the end of the bed was the dresser, her empty bag still resting on top of it, but it wasn’t enough to block the view of the mirror that hung on the wall above it. She could see her reflection there, her auburn hair left mused and her face was almost just as red as it was flushed and smeared with her red lipstick. She could see her body too. Her skin was fair and freckled and so exposed. Her breast hung in two small swells, and from behind her shoulders she could see the swell of her hips and Jeremy positioning himself behind her. His eyes were fixated on her ass, as were his hands that kneaded at the soft flesh.

Katie could see his lips move in a silent curse that was lost on her as he pulled he positioned her just right. And when he had her just where he wanted her, the careful glide of the tip of his cock found her entrance again, and her thrust deep inside. The first thrust left her mewling, and the second left her fingers to grip at the bedding below. She met every single one of Jeremy’s thrusts, the mass of her ass quaking from each impact. But she didn’t watch herself, Katie’s eyes did not leave Jeremy. She watched as his face softened, and his muscles flexed. His eyes even closed from the time as he became lost in the feeling – but when they opened his stare met his gaze in the mirror.

Jeremy tutted her gently, a single hand leaving the soft flesh of her hip to travel up the length of her back. As he moved, she could feel more and more of his body against her. Then, his hand found her throat. He held it carefully, without pressure, and guided her up to kneel. There she could feel his entire body against hers, all the while his cock was buried deep in her core. His thumb rested along her chin, and his forefinger stretched out along her jaw, and Jeremey held her gaze there, on her own feeble expression as he fucked her until her throat was raw, and her core clenched desperately around her cock. It was under the pressure of her core’s embrace that she felt his breathing quicken,the rush of air hot against the back of her neck as he reached the very peak of his climax.

His hands fell away from her lip ribbon, and Katie fell back onto her hands and knees. Her entire body trembled as she lowered herself down to the mattress. The soft twitches involuntary as she was left panting and void of Jeremy as he eased his cock from her. She was seeing stars, her head or the room spinning as the rush of being fucked began to fade. Katie was left exhausted, ready for sleep, but satisfied - feeling euphoria for the first time in years. But before she could sleep, she needed to take care of Jeremy.

“You’re welcome to shower before you go,” she offered as she lay sprawled out on the mattress. It was the least she could do.

“I’m going to take you up on that,” Jeremy carded a hand through his sweaty curls as he nodded towards what he thought was the bathroom door.

Katie nodded in confirmation, and watched as he disappeared through the bathroom door. She did not move until she could hear the water tattooing against the shower floor. But she didn’t go far. She reached out to the dresser, and she pulled open the dresser drawer. She had left her pajamas on the very top, the same ones she was going to wear before Dottie had convinced her to go out, and she dressed slowly. Her body ached in the best way as she stepped into them. Then, she joined Jeremy in the bathroom.

The room was full of steam, the mirror fogged over as she moved to stand in front of it. A single hand cut through the fog, revealing her tired reflection, but best of all she could see the silhouette of Jeremy in the shower behind her. She stood there, brushing her teeth, her eyes admiring his body as it was obscured by the steamy glass.

Leaning forward, Katie spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink.

“I’m going to turn in, you can let yourself out when you’re done. Use all the hot water if you want, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t steal my wallet while I slept.”

Jeremy’s laughter filled the air as effortlessly as the plumes of steam from his shower. It drew Katie's eyes to his blurred silhouette, a small smile curling up on her own lips. She could get used to that sound, and the warm fuzzy feeling that came with it. The joy and amusement it embodied was one she needed to embrace herself–

“You’ve got nothing to worry about. Goodnight, Katie.”

–And for a moment she frowned as she moved for the doorway, her eyes fixated on the ground, as she realized it was a laugh she wouldn't hear again.

Sweaty palms threatened the integrity of a single slip of paper as Katie held it firm in a single fist. It was a pale yellow posted note, one that she had found stuck to her bathroom mirror when she had woken up in the morning. It was left there to be found by tired eyes, the message: For if you ever find yourself alone in Boston. Paired with Jeremy’s phone number, it had made her smile as she tucked it into her purse before she had gone out for brunch with her son, Parker, her ex-husband and his new fiance. But it had also left her panicked when it had fallen out of her purse when she pulled out her wallet as she insisted on paying at least half of the bill. It rested on the table face door for a moment, Katie had frozen completely and Parker was quick to try and retrieve it for her, but she had acted quickly. She had grabbed it before he could, and then she had conceded. Parker paid for their meal, and the paper had remained secured in her hand as they left and parted ways.

Even as she walked alone in a park she couldn’t remember the name of, the slip of paper remained secure in her hand. In the other she held her cell phone against her ear as it rang. She needed to call Dottie. She needed to know everything.

“He left me his number.”

“That’s my girl. Rocked that boy’s world.” Dottie encouraged her with a holler.

Katie looked down to her feet, her face flushed with color. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done anything like she had with Jeremy, and if it had been anyone else Katie would have bit her tongue. But she could trust Dottie more than anyone. They were best friends, practically sisters, Katie could tell her anything.

“I think he had to be older than I thought. He was actually really good in bed,” Katie smiled a little too wide as she spoke. It had been too long since she had a real girl talk. “Like really good. And his body, Dot, I couldn't have pulled a guy like that when I was twenty.”

“What did he say he did for work?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask-”

“Maybe he’s a porn star,” Dottie joked but Katie didn’t laugh.

She could only shrug. “I mean, it would explain a lot.”

“You used a condom, right?”

“Yes mom, of course I did,” Katie rolled her eyes.

“Good girl, are you going to text him?”

The question hung in the air for a moment. Katie looked away out over the park as if Katie could see her on what was merely a voice call. The prospect of reaching out to Jeremy was a pleasant thought in her mind. He was attractive, kind, and so good in bed. He treated her the way that she wanted to be treated. She should want to call him, but he was young. Too young to be anything more than a one night stand.

She could never see Jeremy again.

“Fuck, no,” she assured Dottie, “number went into the trash,” her words were rushed as she lied, and rushed further to assure Dottie wouldn’t question her on it. “I gotta go, I’ll call you after the game tonight. Kisses!”

TD Garden was unlike any arena Katie had ever been in. The fans were loud, so loud she swore her bones rattled in her body with every intense cheer. And the atmosphere left her sitting on the edge of the seat since before the game could even start. Or maybe that was just the nerves as she sat beside her ex-husband as they watched their son Parker Waylon-Stacy erupt from the tunnel to take his rookie lap.

Her hands came together over her heart, her eyes fixated on him, and then the jumbotron above as the camera followed his path along the side. The threat of tears burned at her eyes, her lips parted in a breath that fought back of heartfelt sob that erupted when his name was plastered across the screen with his stats from the AHL. Parker Stacy.

Stacy.

Her last name on her back, not her husband’s last name or the hyphenation of the two. It left ehr on the verge of tears throughout the night, and they did spill as it came down to the third period when she shot up from her seat as her son assisted on what would be the game winning goal. Katie cried into her hands, her husband’s arm patting her back as the crowd erupted around them. There was no greater pride than celebrating her son’s success in that moment with her husband, and the strangers around her that even offered her some napkins as her mascara began to run.

“That’s my son,” she sobbed with pride, and the crowd of college kids around her celebrated with her. Some jumped, others spilled their beer, Katie even received a hug, but they all cheered, “Stacy's Mom!”

Katie remained in her seat after the game, reveling in the silence as the seats around her and her family cleared. And she only moved from her palace when she received a text message from Parker. He wanted them to come down to the locker room. It sent her through what felt like a maze of the arena, but with the help of a member of the security team, she found her boy.

Katie ran to him, her arms enveloping her only son in her arms and pressing a kiss into his sweat drench hair. There the tears began to fall in hot streams down her cheeks, “I am so proud of you,” she told him as she drew back, her hand cradling his cheeks. Parker’s face was red, surely embarrassed by his mother’s affections, but he didn’t stop her. He had always been a mama’s boy, and that wouldn’t change even if his teammates gave him a hard time about that later.

Parker wore a boyish grin, his hand raising to push through his wet hair. He was already showered and dressed, even if some of the other players around him were still half-dressed in their equipment. Parker was ready to leave, but first he wanted to make the introductions he felt he may never be able to make again. “Mom this is Patrice Bergeron-”

Katie turned in place, a smile blossoming over her face as she reached out to shake the Captain’s hand. She had every intention of being polite. She wanted to introduce herself, to make the small talk as she was prompted to. But her words were lost as hoots and hollers of the nickname Bulldog filled the room. The players were welcoming their rookie goaltender back into the room after completing his post game interview. Confidence embodied his every stride, and it drew Katie’s curious eye.

The player was still dressed in his equipment, his back to her as he stood in front of his stall. SWAYMAN was sprawled across the back of his shoulders, framed by his shoulders. A single large hand reached back, peeling it from his body before it was tossed into a pile with the others. Katie’s eyes moved back to the Captain, a small awkward smile on her lips as she listened to him talk about the pleasure of mentoring her son. But his words were lost on her ears as they perked up at the sound of all too familiar laughter.

Katie’s blood ran cold, her eyes searching for the sources of the laughter. Her heart pounded in her chest, her stomach jumping up into her throat as she was left on the verge of vomiting. There, standing in his stall, laughing along with his teammates was Swayman, who no longer stood with his back to her. He was completely shirtless now, and his face was all too clear to see. She knew those warm brown eyes, and that soft confident smile. The sight of them was one that would be etched into her memories for the rest of her days.

Swayman was Jeremy.

She stood there, petrified, her eyes unmoving from his as he leaned back and flexed his chest muscles. It was there, with his back leaned against his stall, his warm gaze rose and his face softened with recognition. If he was panicked he didn’t show it. And while she froze, Jeremy acted. He stood up slowly, Katie had to fight not to let her eyes wander, and he approached with a casual stride.

“I didn’t realize we had guests,” Jeremy smiled as he came up to stand beside his Captain, but Katie could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart in her ears.

The room around her seemed to move in slow motion, her head suddenly feeling light as Patrice introduced her as Stacy’s Mom. It was then she thought she might actually vomit, the bile burning at the back of her throat as Jeremy looked to her with slightly parted lips and a slight glimmer in his eyes. Her palms began to sweat, so much so that she had to wipe her hands along the seam of her jeans before she could reach out to shake Jeremy’s hand as he offered it to her.

“Stacy’s Mom?” Jeremy spoke with such disbelief that Katie almost believed her, “You don’t look a day over thirty.”

White she had heard that same flattery before it made her heart race all the same. But this time, she couldn’t show it.

“You’re too kind,” Katie forced a smile, struggling to remain composed as the feeling of her hand encased by his left her heart racing just as his touch had the night before. It was enough to bring her to her knees.

Jeremy made her weak, and he would for the rest of her days. She would crave him, in every sense of the word. Katie wanted to hear his sweet laughter. She wanted to feel his hands on her body, and enjoy every piece of his that he could offer her. It was a hunger that would rage and burn in the depths of her, but it was one that she could never fulfill. Not now, not that she knew who he was.

Standing there, the chaos of the room became an echo in her ears as her hand fell away from Jeremy’s hold. She watched as he met her ex-husband, his smile consistently pleasant and was the only thing keeping her from spiraling right there in the locker room.

Katie would be seeing Jeremy Swayman again. At games, during breaks. Often. So often it would pain her. And she could only pray that she would have the strength to refuse him, or that Parker would find himself on a new team before her will could break.

Katherine Stacey could not fuck Jeremy Swayman.

She wouldn’t.

Not again.

Surely, she wouldn’t be able to get away with it. Not without complications.

Could she?

Taglist: @mp0625 @starshine-hockey-girl

#jeremy swayman #boston bruins #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl rpf #hockey rpf #hockey smut #hockey imagines #hockey romance #age gap romance #nhl writing #jeremy swayman x original character #nhl smut

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i-love-yoi · 6 months ago

Text

What gifts do they usually give you?

TW:GN!Reader, romantic relationship, takes place after the incident with Mari.

Sunny, Basil, Aubrey, Kel, Hero,(HS)Mari. (All RW)

Okay, I didn’t write anything because I was busy studying, and fortunately, I don’t have a single C grade for the year.

Sunny

•In general, Sunny is quite a jack of all trades, he just quickly gives up what he just started.

•One mistake is enough, and he will abandon this matter.

•It would have been the same with playing the violin, but the parents were already spending money on training, and the older sister was not allowing it (until the day of the concert.)

•Although, I would say that he clearly has a rich imagination, especially after 4 years of literally living in dreams and fantasies.

•I also think he has good motor skills, so he really likes to do things by hand.

•For example, while Kel was buying figurines of his favorite characters, Sunny was just printing out diagrams and assembling them in the form of origami.

•But he did not resort to this often, since his family was quite well off, and he could easily buy the same figurine from the store.

•So, based on all this, I think he would give you some small but very cute fakes with different and interesting mechanics that you would think would be difficult to make with your hands.

•And if you don’t have money, or for some reason you can’t buy a figurine of your favorite character, then consider that you already have this figurine, but in the form of paper.

•Oh, and I could definitely say that he has his own hand-made paper figurine in the shape of you.

Basil

•I think everyone here has already guessed what will happen to Basil.

•Exactly, Basil would often give you bouquets of flowers!

•Of course, he understood that not everyone likes flowers, and some consider them useless, but clearly not him.

•Although, of course, he will respect his partner’s preferences.

•For him, flowers are something tender and pleasant, a way to express great respect and love for his partner.

•Moreover, since the past, respectful men have done this, wanting to charm the lady of their heart and show their respect for her.

•And he obviously doesn’t buy them, but grows them himself.

•Honestly, it’s more pleasant for him to grow scarlet roses like blood himself, watching how this sprout grows, turning into a lovely flower.

•Also, he will always attach a photo of a beautiful sunset or field to the bouquets, with a beautiful and sweet inscription, for example: “These roses are as fragrant and beautiful as you.”

Aubrey

•I think she would despise all those flowers and paper things and those candies.

•The most important thing for her is that she can spend time with her love partner, hear his voice, feel his partner physically, and understand that she is not alone.

•Aubrey generally does not like to be alone, especially at home, with her mother.

•So you often either go for walks or go every now and then for pizza, to a secret place on the lake, or to your house if you're not as bad as she is and you're comfortable there.

•Ultimately, this helps her take her mind off the all-consuming thoughts about the situation with her parents about the incident.

•Although, of course, if you want candy or flowers, she will give them to you, but more often she still likes to share some moments with you, for example, the same sunset or to greet the sunrise.

•She collects flowers from the street, so they can be simple daisies or clover flowers, or maybe bells (flowers).

•Although, I don’t argue that she can sometimes quietly steal a flower from someone else’s flowerbed from a bush.

•In fact, Aubrey relies on “Whatever you ask, I will take,” since she, firstly, wants to get to know you more, the point is clear, and does not want to give any useless gifts.

•What is more important to her is that you are happy and comfortable.

Kel

•But it’s quite difficult with this guy.

•So, he quickly acquires many hobbies, including cooking, embroidery, gardening and much more.

•However, he does not succeed in all areas, and he quickly abandons some, and some simply become boring to him and he abandons them.

•And if Sunny could compensate for this with money due to the financial situation of his family, then Kel cannot even compensate for this.

•Kel already has a fairly large family, so the money first went to his talented older brother Hero, and now it goes to his little sister Sally.

•So Kel doesn't have much money to buy you gifts.

•Well, that’s okay, he could save up, but he has no patience or financial literacy at all.

•Therefore, sometimes he can’t restrain himself and buys some kind of garbage, even which he doesn’t need at all.

•The main thing is that it brings him pleasure, the same feeling of pride of a collector with a complete collection or something like that.

•So his skillful and not so skillful hands often come into play.

•So, Kel has a lot of thoughts and ideas in his head, and in his fantasies they all look simply gorgeous.

•And either he has thought too much of himself, or his arms do not quite grow from his shoulders (Here, most likely, the second option).

•So when he gives you a gift, he is either shy or too happy. (The second option is very rare.)

•Basically, he is very disappointed that what turned out to him is clearly not what he came up with in his head, and is quite self-critical in this regard.

•I think he would have thought something like: “But my brother would have done better.”, “But there’s too much glue here.”, “But here it’s already peeling off.” And much more like that.

•So it’s with shame, but he gives it to you, he’s already spent time and materials on it.

•But he will bring you some wild flowers, or not very expensive ones.

•Just remember that he is already in a large family, and not a very rich one, so just don’t discuss him for this, he deliberately denied himself his favorite figurine for your sake.

•In any case, I think he has something homemade, but made with soul, albeit with glue around the edges.

Mari

•Oh, check, her baskets have everything you want.

•Do you want some fruit? Already here.

•Do you want some candy? Please!

•Do you want flowers? The most recent?

•Do you want a cat? Somewhere in the depths there will also be...

•It may seem to you that you just robbed her, but in reality it is not so.

•Mari likes to pamper you, even if you yourself are ashamed of it.

•She loves to see you blush, gobbling up the sweetness on both cheeks.

•In fact, Mari just really likes to embarrass you and make you feel good.

•We can say that if it’s pleasant and joyful for you, then she’s happy too.

•So Mari often takes care of you, and also, thanks to her basket, pampers you with something.

•Understand that she likes it herself.

•Especially when she is alone, and her little brother and a group of friends are looking... Looking? No, you're wrong, they're just walking.

•They have no one to look for.

#omori #omori x reader #omori hero #omori kel #omori basil #omori sunny #omori aubrey #omori mari #sunny x reader #basil x reader #aubrey x reader

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starry-bi-sky · 9 months ago

Text

show me how to lay my sword down long enough to let you through - clone^2 ch2

[My parents don’t get up until seven, and they’re in the lab by eight. They typically don’t leave the lab until after I get home.] Danny says as he leads Damian into the kitchen, the automated voice of the translator AI cutting through the air easily. Damian stuck close to his side, eyes narrow and a snooty look of disdain stamped on his face like a printing press while his eyes flit around the room.

The kid had woken up immediately upon Danny shuffling out from beneath his desk, and he had to scurry back to avoid being skewered by Damian’s katana. He bumped into his desk in the process, and the muffled thud it made against the wall had Danny praying that his parents wouldn’t wake up from the noise.

(“I should’ve confiscated that.” He muttered, gripping the table with white knuckles and mouth pursed into a thin line. The business end of Damian’s katana staring him in the nose.)

(He should’ve expected the baby assassin to sleep lighter than a feather. His mistake, of course. Damian realized quickly after where he was, thankfully, so Danny didn’t have to fight him off in his room. The noise and mess that would make would have surely woken up his parents, and he still hasn’t come up with an excuse as to why Damian was even there.)

So now with Damian awake, Danny decided to just go ahead and give him a quick tour of the house so that he knew where everything was. Fuuuck, it was only setting in now that he had to leave the kid home, alone, all day.

(Maybe things will be fine. Murphy screwed him over already with this, he has other people to torment, surely. Like the other heroes, for example.)

Wherever Damian’s ‘League of Assassins’ was situated, it was probably ten times nicer than Danny’s house. That is, if Danny’s assumption from the look on Damian’s face was correct.

Breathing out through his nose, Danny leads Damian over to the fridge, his fingers digging into the phone screen again. [I don’t have an excuse ready for why you’re here, so please don’t get seen by them. They spend all day in the lab so you should be able to roam the house freely.]

He feels like the butler from a period drama set telling the down-on-her-wealth noble lady the rules of the manor, while she was staying with a fabulously wealthy nobleman of higher standing. It felt ridiculous. But it was unfortunately necessary, he can’t imagine what kind of reaction his parents would have to Damian — and what kind of reaction Damian would have to his parents.

Damian scowls at him and says something in Arabic, spitting it out like acid while his arms cross over his chest grumpily. Danny stops and turns to him fully, raising a deadpan eyebrow. Damian repeats what he said, looking at Danny like he wants him to spontaneously burst into flames.

They stare at each other for thirty, uncomfortable seconds, with Danny keeping his deadpan steady, before finally he silently holds his phone out. Damian breaks their staring contest to look down, and his surly expression deepens.

Grumbling under his breath, Damian snags it out of his hand. Danny counts his fingers as he pulls his hand away.

(When he counts all five still there, he drops his arm back to his side.)

[I will stay hidden, for now.] Damian spits out, looking supremely disgruntled. It’s kind of endearing, but endearing the same way a tiger cub was. Cute, but undoubtedly dangerous. Rather than handing back his phone, Damian speaks into it again. [But figure out what to tell them. I am above hiding.]

“Planning on it.” Danny mutters, nodding sharply before taking back his phone and turning back to the fridge. Before he even takes the handle, Danny pushes his hair from his face and leans forward, pressing his ear to the door. The metal is cold on his cheek, but he barely pays it to mind.

Ecto-contaminated food didn’t have nearly enough of a signature to fully trigger his ghost sense, but it did make a strange, buzz-humming sound that felt more internal than external. Like the sensation that Danny himself was humming instead.

From his peripherals, Danny can see Damian staring at him with unconcealed bewilderment, his apparent surliness temporarily forgotten in favor of looking at Danny like he was an idiot. “Madha tafaeala?”

In lieu of answering, Danny just holds up a finger at Damian. Something the little dude really doesn’t appreciate, as he immediately scowls at Danny and makes that ‘myeh’-like expression that kids do when they’re trying to give someone they don’t like attitude without actually saying anything. The one that, as far as Danny is concerned, doesn’t have a real term for but everyone knows what it is anyway.

Either way, Damian makes a face at him that does, briefly, succeed in irritating Danny. He says nothing and cranes his ears instead, trying to catch if there’s any internal buzzing coming from inside the fridge. His hand drifts instinctively to the counter, where he and Jazz had moved the knife block for this exact reason.

…Will he have to hide this with Damian here? He hopes not, the last time the knife block got moved he forgot, and had to strangle a half-eaten chicken from the fridge after it came back with fowl vengeance.

When he doesn’t hear or feel anything out of the ordinary, he leans back and swings the door open with ease. Rows upon rows of liquid-jellied-solidified-whatever-it-was-feeling-at-the-time ectoplasm sat in glass canisters, tupperware, and bottles on the shelves. Glowing green in between the stuff that was actually food, and washing a buzz over Danny like someone just draped him in a weighted blanket.

(He should clarify. Ectoplasm does exhibit its own signature that’s too weak to signal his ghost sense, but that buzzing-humming feels more like the painless tingling of when part of his spine falls asleep. Except everywhere, and the feeling is heavier in his head. It’s oddly comforting. Nostalgic; like the smell after the snow’s freshly melted and the weather is warm. It is very much not like the ominous, buzzing-humming-intent of a partially reanimated chicken that’s regained some of its sentience and wanted revenge.)

Behind him, Damian makes some kind of squeaking sound. Or maybe it’s more like a yelp. Either way, it’s alarmed and loud enough that Danny turns around with half a jumping heart and a ‘shush’ on the tip of his tongue.

“Ladayk ma' lieazir!” Damian hisses, pointing behind Danny at the canisters behind him. Damian’s eyes narrow into slits, and he hunches up like a stray cat that’s been cornered. “Min 'ayn hasalt ealaa ma' lieazir?!”

Danny follows the point of his finger, and sees the ectoplasm canisters behind him. “The ectoplasm?” He asks aloud, looking back at Damian in bewilderment.

Apprehension tightens slowly in his chest. Damian used that word again — and Danny only catches it because it was what Damian had been calling him last night, in the warehouse. He thought it meant ‘stranger’ or something — but, he glances back at the ectoplasm in the fridge.

Was Damian calling him ectoplasm?

He knows what ectoplasm was?

What had been a steady tightening in his chest suddenly fastens like a noose. Danny reaches for one of the canisters just to make sure, and Damian watches him tersely as he curls a hand around one of the canisters and pulls it forward. He doesn’t take it off the shelf, but he does gesture slightly with it. “This?” He asks, “The ectoplasm. Is this what you’re talking about?” He knows he has a translator on his phone, but he doesn’t think he’ll need it for this.

He recalls the word Damian used, and frowns. “The- the lazeer? Laziere?” It’s an embarrassing attempt at trying to repeat it, but Damian understands what he’s saying anyways and nods sharply.

“Niema, ma' lieazir. Kif lidayk.”

Danny really doesn’t like that Damian knows what ectoplasm is, and he really doesn’t like the idea that his League of Assassins place knows about it too, and seemingly has access to the physical stuff. This feels too much like going swimming in the ocean and feeling something brush against his foot.

Now he really needs to make sure that Damian never makes it back to the League. The idea of a bunch of assassins finding out that his parents can make ectoplasmic weapons terrifies him, just a smidge. (Just what has he gotten himself into?)

Putting the canister down and pushing it away from the ledge, Danny reaches for the milk instead, his heart beating uncomfortably in his ears. A discomfited “Hn.” comes out under his breath as he plucks the jug off the shelf and shuts the door, it closes a little more forcibly than normal. Danny reaches for his phone.

The word ectoplasm doesn’t translate into Arabic, he checks before he says anything. Danny reaches over Damian to put the milk on the table as he types, still frowning uneasily. [It’s ghost stuff.] He says, and then says aloud: “Ectoplasm.”

“Ec-to-plasm.” Damian repeats curtly, lip curling. Danny nods curtly.

Rather than repeating himself, Danny types into his phone again. [You’re not allowed in the lab without me. Don’t touch the ghost stuff in the fridge, it’s dangerous.] He says, [I was listening to the fridge because the food likes to come alive and attack, if you need food from the fridge, grab a knife.] He’ll try and show Damian how to listen for reanimated food later, it’s a little harder without a ghost sense but the food moves, so he’ll show him how to listen for that.

Damian scoffs; “'Adhhab hayth 'urid 'ayuha almuhtal.” and reaches out to take the phone from his hand.

Rather than letting him, Danny pirouettes away, holding his phone over his head, “Nah-ah-ah.” He says, watching Damian’s face twist indignantly into anger. [We’ll talk more later, I want breakfast and you’re probably hungry.]

(Is he avoiding? Absolutely, he is. But it’s early, and Danny is much too tired to entertain the impending doom sinking into his chest like snow caving in a roof. He needs to do something about the information that a league of assassins has access to ectoplasm, but that something is… being put on the backburner for now.)

(Maybe he’s just catastrophizing — he’s gotten pretty good at that over the years. Maybe he’s putting too much weight on the idea; maybe he’s just sleep deprived. No, he’s definitely sleep deprived. Either way, he’s putting a pin in the murder group for now.)

Danny turns for the pantry, and takes about one step before he remembers the phone in his hand. Twisting around, he plops it onto the table for Damian, and then marches over to the pantry for the cereal.

The oven clock reads six-twenty-eight, and that doesn’t have Danny feeling all that great. He said earlier that his parents got up at seven, so they only have thirty-two minutes before then. Then another ten or so before his parents come down for breakfast. Mom takes the shower first, and dad comes downstairs to get started on breakfast. Sometimes it's cereal, but he likes making eggs if they haven’t been irradiated.

The pantry swings open and Danny pulls out a box of cereal, his brows furrowed in thought. Dad will want to talk to him if he sees him — so it’s for the best that Danny and Damian finish eating before dad makes it to the hallway. He turns and glances at the time again. Six-thirty. Thirty minutes. He puts the box onto the table and grabs their bowls and spoons.

There’s a look of apprehension on Damian’s face as he puts everything down, his fingers curled around Danny’s phone. His eyes flick up to Danny, and then he holds up his phone. [Is this what you eat?] He asks, before eyeing the table again.

Danny can’t stop the quiet snort that escapes him, his thoughts quieting for a moment as he slides into his chair, before reaching over and plucking the phone out of Damian’s hand. [Sorry bud, it’s all we’ve got time for before my parents get up.]

Damian makes a disgruntled face, and sits down.

(He idly makes a mental note to wrangle out of Damian later what kind of foods he likes. He’s not too bad at cooking. He’s better than Jazz, at least.)

—-----

They make it back up to Danny’s room by six-fifty-two, just as Danny hears his parents shuffling around in their room. They’re up a little earlier than normal. His mom’s limb, quieter footsteps already padding for the master bathroom. Danny is closing the door when he hears a familiar thud, and the low, sleepy groan of his dad sitting up and putting his feet on the ground.

Damian bounds away and is already situated on Danny’s bed when he turns around, fingers snatching his katana from beneath the pillows before he turns and sits stiffly with it in his lap.

It was a bit of a ridiculous sight: despite being awake for nearly an hour, Damian’s bed-head hadn’t changed a bit, with a tangled bunch of curls jutting out from one side of his head. Pair that with him still wearing Danny’s NASA tee (and being swamped in it), and the katana, and Danny was half tempted to snap a picture. Again, he was finding himself endeared.

He does end up sneaking that picture as he strides over to his closet to rummage for clothes.

[I’ll try and think of a way to get you home.] He lies as he shifts through the shirts on the hangers, typing with his thumb, and tilted halfway with his phone jutting out for Damian to hear. [But that’s gonna take a while, so we should get you some different clothes soon.] There was no way he was letting this kid wear the same thing every day, this might take weeks.

He yanks a yellow turtleneck that Tucker got him off the hanger and tosses it out onto the bed. It lands next to Damian with a quiet thump, and the kid shuffles away from it with a glare as if it's personally offended him. Danny stifles a smile and walks out, grabbing his hoodie-jacket from its spot on the door and tossing it onto the bed as well.

Damian grumbles something, then holds out his hand for the phone. Danny hands it to him as he passes by, going over to his desk to pick up his gloves and grappling hook, before turning to his bag.

[I am not worried about the time, Mother will come looking for me.] Damian tells him, sticking his nose up into the air and missing the cold seize of Danny’s heart and the tensing up of his shoulders. His mother. Who was probably also an assassin from the assassin club Damian was made from.

(A blood rush sends stars spinning around in the corners of Danny’s vision, and he pauses in order to stare blankly at the top of his half-opened backpack. He quickly blinks it away, and unzips his bag fully to shove his gear into one of the larger pockets.)

He hums low, turning to look at Damian with a fake smile plastered on his face. “That’s great, bud.”

(It should be a good thing, but he can’t quite shake the whole ‘assassins’ thing. Specifically… well, all of it. It’s all giving him a headache to sort through.)

Damian scoffs at him, [I cannot understand you.]

Danny snorts unwittingly, turning and shoving his gloves into an inside side pocket just as Damian throws his phone at him. He catches it before it can slam into the wall — or Danny’s head, and puts his grappling hook into his bag before typing into the translator. [I said that it’s good. I’m glad your mom is looking for you.]

That was another lie, and he felt bad that it had to be. Damian rolls his eyes at him, and Danny stuffs his phone into his back pocket and grabs his hook.

When his bag is accounted for, Danny finally focuses on getting dressed. He moves out to the bathroom to change, admittedly hot-footing it a bit so that Damian is alone for the least amount of time possible. He passes a sleep-mussed Jazz heading for the stairs, and she pauses to mess with his hair.

“Did you stay up all night again?” She mumbles, her fingers catch on a few tangles, but slide out at the end easily. “You don’t have bedhead.”

Danny pauses, half-distracted by the feeling of her hands in his hair and the urge to hurry through getting dressed. “Only a little.” He says, scurrying away and opening the door to the bathroom. “Was workin’ on a case.”

Jazz frowns at him, and he closes the door before she can say anything.

(He’s in the middle of brushing his teeth when he remembers that Damian will need other essentials than just clothes, and immediately starts compiling a mental list.)

He’s got half an arm through his jacket when he leaves the bathroom, his attention split between getting it on and typing into his phone. When he opens the door, there’s quiet, rapid footsteps shuffling before he sees Damian hopping back onto the bed, staring at him stonily and like a kid who was acting like he hadn’t been doing anything.

A smile tugs at the corner of Danny’s mouth, and he types into his phone to add something before hitting play on the translator. [I have to head out now, you can look around my room if you’d like. Don’t touch the brown files on my desk, I’ll be back after school ends. I should have a game plan by then. Don’t be seen by my parents.]

As it speaks, Danny strides over and grabs his backpack. Damian’s eyes follow him the whole time, and Danny slings his bag over his shoulders and stuffs his phone back into his pocket.

Damian nods curtly at him, and before Danny leaves he reaches over and plucks a hairband off his dresser, pinching it between his teeth.

“Okay, I’m off.” He repeats, voice slightly muffled by the hairband as he starts pulling his hair up. There’s a huff from Damian and a knowingly annoyed look, and Danny’s smile grows a little out of amusement. He tugs the tie out from his mouth and twists it around his hair. “Be good, Damian.”

Green eyes narrow at him, and Danny hurries out of the room, closing the door behind him.

(He was a little — no, scratch that, a lot apprehensive about leaving Damian here alone for most of the day. He was worried about his parents, perhaps a little too much, and he was worried about Damian recognizing the ectoplasm in the fridge. He’s worried about the whole thing with these ‘League of Assassins’ people, and he’s worried about how he’s going to explain Damian’s presence to his parents. And he’s most especially worried about how on earth he was going to convince Damian to not return home.)

Instead of going for the stairs, Danny turns and hurries over to the end of the hallway where the ladder to the rooftop is. There’s a lot he needs to think about, too much for him to want to walk with Sam and Tucker.

The nice thing about people is that they don’t really ever look up.

—----------

Danny: hey i’ll meet you guys at school

Tucker: did something happen during patrol?

Danny: something like that

Danny: i’ll tell you in class

Sam: alright. Hop safe

[Danny liked Sam's message]

—-------------

(if continued)

“Dude.”

“I know.”

“Dude.”

“I know.”

“Dude!”

“I know!”

Danny drops his head onto his desk with an unceremonious thump, groaning low with his nose smushed into the wood. Sam’s hands, buried in his hair and in the midst of messing with it, stills to let him. Some of the strands slip out of her fingers and pool around Danny’s face, causing a curtain. It tickles a little.

Maybe he should have just walked to school with them, telling them about Damian probably would’ve garnered less attention that way. He can feel the gazes of their classmates — or at least, the ones not slowly filtering into the room — turning onto them, and burning into his head.

But running over the rooftops, albeit only until the residential area ended, was sorely needed. It didn’t help clear all of his thoughts, or really much of any of them, but it’d chased away the worst of his anxieties about it. Like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in a stuffy room.

(This has been, officially, the longest… five hours of his life. And he’s had many, many long five hours in the last two years.)

(Pariah Dark and his evil future self are tied for the record of being the longest twenty-four hours of his life. Finding out he was a clone doesn’t count — it was still ongoing, and distressingly permanent.)

Tucker makes a noise, and Danny turns his head just in time to see him drop into his desk beside him, lifting his hat to run his hand over his curls with a look of disbelief. He’s staring unseeingly over Danny’s head for a whole of two seconds before looking back down.

“So he just — what, popped out of the ground? Like a daisy?”

Sam continues with her ministrations, and her fingers brush against his neck as she straightens his hair down his back. It’s soothing, enough so that the sleep-soreness of his eyelids becomes a lot more evident to him.

“Hn. Something like that. If the ground was a once-in-a-lifetime portal and the daisy was a murderous six year old.” He mutters, blinking slowly to try and keep himself awake. Sam’s nails scratch behind his ears, gathering up his hair again to finger-comb out the tangles, and he sighs quietly in content.

He sees Tucker suppress a smile, and he can practically sense Sam doing the same thing. Danny stares, did his ears do the thing again—?

“You don’t think a ghost had something to do with it?” Sam asks him, her voice staying low as she tugged out the knots in his hair. “It’s really strange that…” She pauses. Danny can feel her lean against his chair, and he lifts his head slightly as Tucker leans in too. “..that Damian just appeared in front of you right after you got done with fighting a ghost.”

Hrm. She was right. It was weird. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He says quietly, “I was too busy trying to get him to stop attacking me.” And after that he was busy trying to get them both home in one piece, and then after that was the whole identity crisis—

And he’s gonna stop there before his tired mind latches onto that spiral again.

Sam and Tucker’s mouths press together worriedly, and Danny finds himself frowning too. “Maybe I can sneak into the Zone sometime this week and ask one of the Ancients.” Frostbite knew a lot about the Infinite Realms in general, but Pandora might know more about strange magic.

He could try Clockwork, but finding the clocktower always feels like a scavenger hunt, and getting straight answers out of the ghost is like trying to catch the wind in a bag. Danny normally wouldn’t mind, he kinda likes the challenge, but now is not a good time for that.

Either way, it was just another thing on his long list of things to do this week, on top of everything else he had to do since acquiring Damian. He could feel a stress headache coming in, and it was only — he takes a quick glance at the clock — eight-fourteen. Yeah, longest five hours of his life. And counting.

Hrrm. “I just can’t believe my luck.” He complains, of all people to clone, of all kids to end up being cloned. It had to be the one kid who, by technicality, was his biological son. That thought alone felt like a tsunami about to swallow him whole. It was confusing, and complicated.

It shouldn’t have to be.

The thing is, Danny doesn’t view Damian Wayne as his son. Not by a long shot. Damian Wayne was Bruce Wayne’s son. But just like how Ellie isn’t Danny, and Danny isn’t Bruce; Damian is not Damian Wayne. And Danny still doesn’t view him as a son, and obviously Damian doesn’t view him as a father. But it all feels like a strange gray area, like a merry-go-round that’s not turning off, and it wouldn’t have to be if his parents hadn’t been fucking careless with their DNA samples—

It’s been four months why does he still feel so raw—

Tucker snorts roughly, bringing Danny out from his head.

He breathes in deep, blinking quickly, as Tucker leans back into his chair. Sam starts sectioning off Danny’s hair. “Yeah, fair enough,” he says, “bad luck is my schtick though, Danny, so don’t go start encroaching on my brand.”

“Your brand?” Sam repeats, voice lilting upward. Danny can imagine she’s raising an eyebrow at him, and he snickers both at the thought and at Tucker.

Tucker’s eyes light up at the sound, and he grins like he’s won a prize. “Yeah, my brand! You know, Bad Luck Tuck?”

Danny snickers louder, adjusting to sit more comfortably. “I thought your brand was Too Fine Foley.”

“I can have more than one brand.”

Sam snickers this time, in the midst of braiding Danny’s hair. It feels fantastic, Danny hums lowly, sinking like putty into his desk. “I’m pretty sure that’s called a monopoly, Tuck.”

Danny laughs quietly, blinking lizard-like. “Tuck Driver.”

Sam barks out a harsh laugh, and it trails off into stifled chuckles as Tucker’s jaw drops. The wide grin on his face betrays any potential upset he might have though. “That’s the mania setting in.” He says, voice thick with laughter, “That’s the fucking sleep mania talking right now. Take a nap, dude, we’ll wake you up when class ends.”

Sleep sounds great actually, and he’s gonna do it soon anyways with Sam still doing his hair. But— “I’m not done talking about Damian.” He protests, but his eyes are closing on their own, as if all they needed to hear was him agreeing to sleep to do it.

Tucker waves his hand, “It’s not like we can’t talk about him later; nap first. Your eyebags can’t get any darker.” He assures, “Don’t worry, we’ll take notes for you.”

“Hnn… fine.” Danny says, and lets his eyes close. He’s out like a light in minutes.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc crossover #dpdc #clone^2 #dpxdc fics #starrys fics #danny's 'hns' are my favorite thing ever i hope you guys know #the longer i look at this the pissier i get at the word count -- i think its too low -- so im going to post this now without looking #not much thoughts to put here bc all my rambling was left in the ao3 end notes

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