#decided to summer up my account lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mysteria157 · 5 months ago

Text

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

CW: Light Profanity, Light Alcohol Consumption, Explicit Sexual Content, Missionary, Fingering, Mentions of Cunnilingus, Public Sex (Sort of), Office Sex

WC: ~9.8k

Summary:

Nanami may be disconnected from social media trends, but he’s not oblivious. He’s overheard the crass innuendos and seen the tasteless memes on Yuji's phone. He knows the vulgar things some men say—about how excited they get when the summer begins.

It always seemed so stupid and dramatic to Nanami, who has never had a straying eye to actually see if the rumors were true. But now that you’ve come into his life…he gets it.

Oh, he gets it.

Sundress season.

Notes: Hello! Had a random thought this morning and decided to roll with it and practice writing Nanami some more. Anywho, I hope you all enjoy this one-shot.

This is a prime example of me writing smut when I feel like it. Please do not ask me for more related to this story and please do not ask me to write smut, the answer is no lol. This is just a one-shot of a random idea, please enjoy it for what it is lol. Thank you all for understanding!

Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated! Happy reading!

Dividers: @cafekitsune @arminsumi | Header: made by myself

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter |

The city summers are a different kind of hell. The humid heat clings to Nanami, making his skin feel instantly tacky as if he hasn’t showered in days. It wreaks havoc on his usual crisp suit and tie, causing the fabric to stubbornly adhere in unflattering ways. He thinks back wistfully to his bachelor days when he could simply escape such misery by holing up inside with the AC blasting, and then wait until the evening for a walk or to run errands. But that was before you came into his life like a vivacious sunbeam, all warmth and carefree laughter.

Now, he wouldn’t dream of depriving you of simple joys like strolling hand-in-hand through the park, watching you bask in nature’s dazzling seasonal shifts. The fragrant flowers blooming, the fireflies flickering to life as dusk settles, the earthy pre-rain smell you adore—he lives for the ease of these tranquil moments.

Throughout your relationship, Nanami has cataloged your ever-changing looks to match the passing seasons. The oversized chunky sweaters and leggings you’d cuddle up in during fall’s crisp breezes. The sleek peacoats and woolen scarves wound around your neck when winter blanketed the city in soft stillness.

But summertime is when your vibrant spirit and personal style shines. And it’s Nanami’s first summer with you when everything changes.

It always seemed so stupid and dramatic to Nanami, who has never had a straying eye to actually see if the rumors were true. But now that you’ve come into his life…he gets it.

Oh, he gets it.

Sundress season.

And it’s a season that has awoken something primal within him. Something in his gut stirs, something in his mind shifts and the more he notices, the more he feels like a lecherous old man instead of the well-mannered one in his late twenties. While his clothes stick uncomfortably to his sweat-slicked skin you get to slip into breezy summer dresses that let every inch of your beautiful body breathe.

As an event planner constantly on the move, you seem to live in the wispy, colorful outfits at all hours of the day. Like the buttercup yellow and candy pink number currently floating around you as you stroll together to the bakery during your shared lunch hour. It’s modest—cotton fabric that doesn’t stick to you, with ruffle short sleeves and a V-neckline that highlights your collarbones and the delicate diamond necklace resting between.

Nanami risks a sidelong glance, instantly regretting it when his gaze gets trapped by the way the bright floral pattern sways and twists with each step you take. The hem brushes the brown skin of your knees and while he can’t see much, Nanami knows the soft curves hidden underneath the airy fabric intimately.

While the caveman part of him can understand the underlying meaning of sundress season, it’s everything else that flares his want for you. It’s the wild curls that brush your cheeks and neck, the diamond earrings that reflect in the sun, the curl of your long lashes that kiss your lower lids when you blink. And yes—the gorgeous dress that you have on enhances everything about you—but in the most basic sense, you are beautiful.

“You’re staring.” It’s a playful accusation that you direct at him even though your eyes are admiring the tulips that you both walk past.

He quickly averts his eyes, sharp cheeks blazing a fiery red. “My apologies I…” Nanami clears his throat, struggling to regain his usual unruffled demeanor. “That dress looks lovely on you.”

You hum in acknowledgment, pausing so he can open the bakery door for you. “You think so? I just picked it up last week. Perfect for this heat, isn’t it?”

Nanami swallows hard at the teasing tilt to your tone, the innocent question feeling anything but. From the very first day he met you—that very first day you knocked back a glass of expensive whiskey and smiled at him as if it was nothing—he’s come to accept that you have no reservations of flustering him. You thrive on it, and for as stiff as Nanami is, you are a breath of fresh air that he never imagined would slide into his lungs.

Umber eyes watch you walk ahead of him and into the welcoming AC of the bakery, tantalizing calves flexing with each step.

“Very much…” is all he can manage, hastily ripping his eyes away again as his equilibrium dangerously shifts.

You laugh lightly at his sudden silence, the warm, rich sound simultaneously soothing his thundering heart and making it trip up all over again. “You act like you’ve never seen me in a dress before.”

“You know that’s not true,” he mutters, switching his gaze to the menu to avoid your entirely too-innocent smile. “I simply…appreciate fine things.”

The rich ring of your answering chuckle sends molten desire licking traitorously down his spine. “Is that so? Then I’ll have to acquire more of these stunning ‘fine things’ for you to appreciate this summer…”

He should have known better than to egg you on. Had he kept his eyes to himself and brushed off your knowing glances, he could have enjoyed you without your playful watch. But for as smart as Nanami is, for as observant and vigilant in his work as he is in his life outside of it, he can never wrap his head around how devious you truly are.

One day, the weather calms down enough for lunch at the park. It’s the perfect day to eat outside. The sun is high in the sky but the canopy of trees gives you both the protection you need from harsh rays.

“Need any help setting up?” You call out, shrugging off the ice denim jacket from your shoulders to reveal this summer’s newest addition—an angelic white sundress adorned with delicate lace trim.

Nanami’s throat tightens and he shakes his head, unfurling a blue blanket onto the thick grass below you both. “I can do it, love. Please just relax.”

He carefully arranges the picnic blanket, spreading the wrinkles free before you plop down on one side. As you dig into the large lunchbox, he admires the crisp white cotton that seems to skim over your frame, covering you but still unable to touch. Thin straps leave your shoulders bare, your skin glowing in the sun from your shimmery sunscreen. No necklace this time, so the square neckline dips just enough to offer a subtle hint of cleavage. The stretchy ribbed material hugs and accentuates every lush curve before gently flaring into an effortless, free-flowing skirt.

You purse your lips and furrow your brow in concentration, leaning more over the lunchbox, your back straightening to steady yourself before he watches free of shame as you arch just so.

When you turn to flash him that achingly fond smile, your curls falling over one shoulder, all traces of decency flee from Nanami’s mind. In that moment, he’s transported back to those dizzying early days of your relationship—entirely captivated, yet utterly terrified of somehow shattering this dazzling, undeserved connection between you.

“Thirsty?” You hold out one of the banana milk boxes that he’s grown to love since your presence, an impish quirk of your brow, clearly aware of his slow descent into hell.

Nanami nods jerkily and takes the milk box, unable to find his voice for a beat. As you settle down gracefully beside him, the skirt drifts up in a gentle billow, shaping to and showcasing skin. He has to tear his eyes away from the wicked flashes of toned thigh with extreme willpower.

Like the devil you are, you toss him a coy smirk, shiny lip gloss clear even though he knows it tastes like strawberry. “We gonna eat or are you just gonna gawk at me like a weirdo?”

He can’t help the scoff that leaves him as he pulls out sandwiches for you both. “I thought you liked when I gawk at you.”

“Not when I’m hungry.”

He shakes his head, smirking softly as he removes the cling wrap before handing you your half, your fingers brushing against his. Warm pleasure blooms in his chest at the radiant sight you make contrasted against the swaying greenery. It’s as if you don’t belong but he couldn’t imagine you anywhere else. You take a generous bite of your sandwich, a smear of mustard in the crease of your lips as you offer him a gentle smile.

As the scorching summer rages, Nanami can’t help but chastise himself. A mundane and childish social meme has become the representation of the hardest test he’s ever taken. Maybe he should have asked for tips from Yuji on how to better prepare himself.

He’s always prided himself on admiring from afar, on controlling his emotions in public and savoring them later in private. He knows your beauty and the unintentional way you drain the air around him. But he’s always been able to offer that soft smile, place a hand on your shoulder or your waist and offer a compliment to whatever you’ve chosen to wear for the day. But recently, in the face of your summertime wardrobe choices, Nanami finds that steely discipline faltering at an alarming rate.

Sinking deeper into the plush living room sofa, Nanami exhales a deep sigh and allows the tension thrumming through his shoulders to bleed away. Here, surrounded by the apartment’s climate-controlled sanctuary, he can savor these increasingly rare moments of solitary peace sprawled out with a good book. It’s a well-deserved shared day off for you both—free of schedules, obligations, or anything more strenuous than lounging around with each other. And more importantly, at home, you’re nothing but comfortable clothes and soft pajamas.

He’s safe.

A wry smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he imagines the look of feigned innocence you always sport whenever he gets too overt about appreciating your seasonal attire. As if you don’t know the absolutely devastating effect even the simplest hair toss or twirl has on what’s left of his challenging self-restraint these days.

It’s going to be a great day. He’s almost done with this book, just three more chapters and then he can start another in his pile that he wants to tackle this summer. That’s right, Nanami Kento is going to—

The soft pad of your bare feet against the hardwood floors has Nanami glancing up instinctively from behind the novel’s pages. And just like that, the world around him completely whites out as if he’s been hit over the head with a brick.

You’ve emerged from the hallway in a yellow sundress so vibrantly captivating, so deliciously clingy and effortlessly suggestive that he nearly swallows his tongue in surprise. The rich gold hue kisses the deep tone of your skin, as if you’re a sunflower blooming under the artificial lighting of the apartment. The dress accentuates your shape in the most brazenly tantalizing way—the thin ruffle straps on your shoulders, the sweetheart neckline hinting at full cleavage, the dress’ light hem hitting indecently high on your thighs in playful flirty wisps.

But it’s the stretchy knit fabric’s complete inability to disguise any curve or meaty swell that really has Nanami sitting up straighter on the cushions. It’s not layered well enough—almost transparent—and the snug material leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination, from the outline of bright panties that cover the soft spread of your hips to the pert dusky points outlined beneath the bodice.

Absolutely devastating and on full, confident display and this isn’t fair because he has three chapters left.

He barely registers the “What are you reading?” you offer him over one shoulder as you stroll towards the kitchen area in that swaying, uninhibited saunter that never fails to ignite his senses. Nanami simply sits there transfixed—one hand gripping the spine of his book while the other claws restlessly against his own inner thigh. Each roll of your hips has that thin dress swishing and lifting in tiny torturous glimpses that have his imagination veering wildly into unrestrained territory. But he’s at home, that’s okay right?

That’s when you shift your weight onto the tips of your toes, your back turned to him, stretching up towards the top cabinets with one hand braced against the counter…and the entire world seems to judder to a halt all over again. Because from this new vantage point, Nanami can’t tear his eyes away from the call of your legs, the dimples on the backs of your thighs, up, up to the hem and—

A guttural sound wrenches free from low in his diaphragm, a mix of a groan and a growled curse. He looks back down to his book, searching aimlessly for where he left off, flickering back over to you just as quick.

He should look away, tear his eyes off of the gloriously indecent picture you’ve unwittingly created simply by existing. And yet…Nanami finds his stare burning an increasingly blazing trail down the bewitching ‘V’ between your shoulder blades, past the delicious dip of your arched lower back to the toned flare of your thighs and calves below.

At one point, you bend even deeper at the waist, hips tilting up as you struggle to reach a particularly elusive item on the high shelf. The filmy yellow skirt jumps and flirts up with the motion, granting Nanami a shameless eyeful of toned thighs and the flash of his favorite pair of panties—lilac with lace along the edges that squeeze the skin of your ass in the most inviting way. He very nearly drops the book from his suddenly slack fingers at the sight, hissing out a low curse between his teeth.

You huff out an adorable sound of frustration as you fail to reach whatever item you’re going for, and he knows he should step in to assist like the gentleman he is. But his stare remains rooted to spot, ogling and committing it all to memory so he can think about it later—alone.

“Let me get that,” he finally manages to scrape out, voice gone low and gritty with naked yearning despite his best efforts at nonchalance.

You shoot him one of those bright, beaming smiles over your shoulder in response—blissfully unaware of the effect your glowing, ethereal beauty has on him even without your intentional teasing. “Just grabbing the flour for dinner,” you explain sheepishly, leaning into his broad form as he comes up behind you and grabs the ingredient on the top shelf. “I always have trouble reaching.”

And isn’t that just symbolic as all hell? His curvy, tempting beloved constantly hovering just beyond his reach these past few weeks—unattainable without discarding every last vestige of control he has. It isn’t like you both don’t have sex. You do…often. There’s just always been a build up, never anything explosive.

Even in the privacy of your home, he’s never thrown caution to the wind. Nanami has always been one to savor every calculated build of pleasure in its precious sequence. You’ve expressed your satisfaction readily enough, reciprocating his passion with that same rapturous abandon you bring to all aspects of life. But in all the years of his tiring, overworked life, you are the first to show him what it feels like to never walk a predetermined line.

“This is…I’ve never seen you wear it inside,” Nanami manages, his throat feeling increasingly dry as his eyes trace the line of fabric on your shoulders.

You take the flour from him, shooting him a sly, knowing look from beneath your lashes as you turn to face him fully. “It’s a little stuffy in here, don’t you think?”

He can’t stop the reflexive glance that rakes over every inch of you. “It’s sixty-eight degrees.”

You lean in a fractional amount—just enough for the swell of your breasts to brush against his shirt as you crane up towards his face. “Well, I run hot,” you murmur, voice dropping into the pits of hell, a throaty register that bypasses Nanami’s higher cognitive functions entirely.

He’s beyond undone. Frozen in place with desperate, rapturous hunger raging through his very marrow. This close, he can make out the small raised moles on your exposed shoulders, the genetic blemishes that are common for your skin tone. He gets a better view of the rigid peaks of your nipples straining against the thin fabric, practically begging for the heated and dripping touch of his mouth that he’s always more than happy to bestow upon you.

His fingertips clench and relax at his sides, held back only by tremendous reserves of willpower from reaching out to map and relearn every soft, silken plane of feminine heat and temptation currently being dangled in front of him like a prize he still can’t win.

You take in the undisguised wanting and torment written large across his features with a look of utter satisfaction. Then, before he can formulate some slurred plea for relief, you spin on one heel and saunter out of his reach—hips undulating hypnotically beneath that flimsy gauze of material in an alluring farewell.

Only once you finally disappear around the corner does Nanami manage to sag forwards—palms braced on the counter as he attempts to draw steady lungfuls of air back into his oxygen-starved body.

By the time he plops back on the sofa, and opens the spine of his book, the desire to read is gone.

You take pity on him for a few weeks after that searing afternoon in the kitchen. Your outside adventures are marked by breathable athletic leggings paired with loose tank tops that drape and show you off…but in a far tamer, less flagrantly teasing way than before.

Even at home, the soft cotton shorts and tees you lounge around in provide Nanami some solace—the casual fabrics leaving just enough to the imagination rather than putting every mouth-watering curve on display.

Your usual playful flirtations also seem to be dialed back during this oasis period. As if you’re allowing the poor man a chance to realign his senses and regain some semblance of control. It allows him time to resettle back into some of his usual regimented routines. Without you on a mission at the periphery of his awareness constantly, stoking those primal fires, he finds himself able to slip back into the role of polished, tired professional and attentive partner with relative ease.

Perhaps a bit too easily, if he’s being honest with himself. Because before he can even register the transition, that fleeting grace period seems to dissolve back into the heady summer ether as quickly as it had begun.

The warm evening air smells of charcoal and citronella as Nanami moves through the crowd, trying yet failing to focus on anything but you. All around him, friends and coworkers intermingle while indulging in ice-cold drinks and delicious food fresh off the smoker. He loves food, especially Yuki's cooking when she hosts a barbecue.

But none of it registers tonight.

Because every sensory nerve-ending in his body is completely captivated and overwhelmed by the vision you make in that deep red sundress.

The rich crimson chiffon swirls and caresses over your body in sinuous waves of delicious color. You’re bathed in red, as if rose petals have unfurled and stitched themselves together to form the beautiful dress on your body. It’s a maxi dress that sweeps down to your ankles and kisses the straps of your block heels. Scorching flashes of full thighs are visible through the flowing slits on each side. The deep v-neck dips in a daring drop that leaves your sternum and the inner sides of your breasts achingly exposed.

Each step you take has the delicate material clinging and drifting in the most hypnotic dance around your heavenly form. Nanami tracks the rhythmic sway of your hips with a burning stare, his control splintering a little more with every toss of your head that allows the deep brown of your skin to wink at him from the column of your neck.

Yuki is already three wine coolers in—not a lot for most, but more than enough for her to throw decorum to the wind. From across the backyard, Choso watches with an indulgent smile as his partner bobs off-beat to the soft music flowing from the speakers.

Choso's expression of pure adoration mirrors the way Nanami looks at you when he thinks no one else is watching. They share that unspoken understanding, that bone-deep contentment of being completely enraptured by the women they love.

At one point, the music shifts, more alcohol disappears, and Yuki is hauling you to the makeshift dance floor of the backyard. Nanami tries, he really, really does. But everything about you makes him stand at attention. Breathing, walking, laughing, smiling at nothing, and now—with just one rock of your hips to the music—his eyes are locked in.

You’ve never been a good dancer. But you’ve also never cared of the expectation to be a good one either. And Yuki is an extroverted pull that makes you sway more, that makes your shoulders roll and laughter to bubble from your lips as you watch your friend make a fool of herself.

Nanami runs a hand through his thick blonde locks, disrupting the careful part he made before you both left the apartment earlier in the evening. The other hand clutches a glass of scotch a little tighter, the condensation sliding against his fingers before he takes a generous swig, his eyes not once leaving you.

You can feel him before you even look over, and when you do lock with Nanami’s deep brown gaze from across the yard, you throw him a soft look from beneath your lashes as you slowly roll your hips. It’s the same motion of your hips that he got to feel last night with you straddling him, panting against his lips in the middle of the night.

Outwardly sensual in only a way he can recognize amongst everyone around him. But it’s your rapturous, carefree expression of pure bliss that simultaneously enchants and undoes the last tattered remains of his composure. With every movement, you embody the very essence of feminine energy—raw, joyful, and utterly free. You are a vision of untamed beauty, a wild goddess of the summer night come to life in a swirling dreamscape of rich ruby chiffon.

The erotic, carnal urge to chase after your swaying, taunting form and haul you away to some shadowed corner where he can divest you of that sinful dress is overwhelming. Swallowing hard, Nanami averts his burning stare for fear of literally combusting on the spot.

“You alright there, buddy?” Yu's familiar voice cuts through the lusty fog, tinged with the warm charm of a couple beers down. “You look like you’re about to swallow your tongue or something.”

“I…excuse me,” is all Nanami can grate out, the remark feeling like fragments of glass as he speaks. He doesn’t wait for a response, simply stalking off through the open patio door and into the thankfully dim and cool interior of Yuki and Choso's home. Anything to escape your enticing presence for even a single moment.

The music and laughter from outside feels muffled as he sinks down onto the living room sofa in the shadows—rubbing distractedly at his thundering chest. But it does nothing to get rid of the vision of you dancing so wantonly and on unrestrained display in that gorgeous ruby sundress.

Where are you even getting them? Online? Or is there a store that he doesn’t know about? He hasn’t seen other women in the city wearing dresses like you do. But then again…Nanami doesn’t really pay attention unless it’s you.

His fingers grip the plush armrest of the sofa until the knuckles strain white, breath sawing harsh and ragged from his heaving lungs. Nanami squeezes his eyes shut, forcing himself to visualize anything other than the way that lightweight crimson had drifted and kissed over your thighs that peeked between side slits, the growing sheen of sweat between the generous canvas of your chest, the exposed slope of your neck free of curls—a spot of concealer on the side to hide the mark he gave you last night.

A harsh exhale escapes him as he forces his eyes open, only to instantly regret it. The muted sounds of the party filter in from outside—sweet laughter, the low thrum of bass, the periodic high-pitched squeal of your voice crying out at Yuki to get a hold of herself.

Nanami’s stomach clenches raggedly at that sound, arousal stroking down his spine in sweltering waves. Through the clear glass of the patio door, he can see the way your face lights up in pure rapturous joy as you give in to yourself. The subtle shifts and gyrations of your body in time with the beat, each swivel of your hips like a siren’s call.

Against his volition, imagination melds into memory, replaying the countless times he’s buried his face between your thighs and simply drank in the celestial sounds of your pleasure until his name was a breathless gasp on your lips. That shrieking cry at Yuki almost the same towards him when he licks at your sensitive nerves one too many times. He forces his gaze away, leans his head back against the sofa and stares up at the ceiling.

The music fluctuates once more, that instantly recognizable intro to the next funky summer hit you adore cuing up. Despite the walls between you, Nanami can still acutely pick up the subtle cadence of your movements in time with that danceable rhythm. He knows the exact choreography of hips and legs that song inspires in you…and his slacks suddenly feel far too confining.

That’s when your voice cuts through the relative quiet like a bolt of lightning, somehow even closer now as you call out—half-playful chiding, half siren’s promise.

“Oh Kentooo…” The singsong inflection has his eyes squeezing shut even as his cock shamefully twitches against it’s restrictive fabric prison. “Where has my favorite salaryman gone off to hide? You know I can’t dance without my partner watching me.”

Gritting his teeth against the dark, full-bodied groan that tries to escape, Nanami hunches forward until his elbows are digging into his thighs. There you stand framed in the patio door, backlit in a devastating silhouette by the lantern lights emanating through the loud yard behind you.

You walk closer in that torturous dress, the double layers trailing languidly behind in currents of fabric that have his throat struggling to swallow. Your stunning frame is practically dripping in sensual confidence and self-assured power. He knows the power you have over him and would sooner swallow his favorite tie than give that up.

The rich carmine floats around you in sinuous waves as you sashay closer to where Nanami sits transfixed on the sofa. And with each step, all manners and decorum that have been taught to him fizzle away with the increasing ache in his jeans.

“Like what you see?” you murmur huskily once you’ve prowled to stand between his legs, allowing Nanami an unfettered view of your neckline, the long gold necklace between your breasts winking at him with each shallow intake of breath. You lift one leg to press a knee onto his powerful thigh—close enough for your perfume to slide down his nostrils and cloud his mind. The slit over your bent knee flutters open in an obscene gap, granting his hooded gaze a glimpse of skin his teeth ache to bite into.

“I asked,” you breathe out in a seductive timbre, near enough for Nanami to actually taste the addictive warmth of your presence on his tongue. “If you like what you see…”

The inhale that rattles through his powerful frame is involuntary. So is the compulsive way his fingertips suddenly flex against the cushion with the overwhelming urge to finally reacquaint himself with the soft temptation of your skin. Others be damned, mannerisms of being a respectful guest falling to the wayside.

Somewhere through the rapidly thickening haze of pure liquid arousal, Nanami manages a jerky nod—unable to summon even the most basic of syllables in response. He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing convulsively as you arch one delicious eyebrow in a silent challenge. With your beautiful curls pulled up into a high ponytail, he can see the slope of your ears that are adorned with the gold hoops he bought you last month.

Then, before he can gather enough of his scattered wits to chastise you for your behavior, you’re boldly reaching out and capturing one of his clenching fists in a firm grip. A soft grunt rattles up from deep in Nanami’s chest at the heated feel of your palm finally making purchase on his overheated skin.

But his breath hitches in a harsh inhale as you purposefully guide his splayed fingers towards your exposed leg—sliding his hand up excruciatingly slow to caress along the landscape of textures and planes laid out in offering. He expects the generous hem of panties he’s seen time and time again. He knows what they look like in his mind when he teases the edges before slipping inside to graze his fingers along your aching clit. But the calloused pads of his fingertips brush the thin string of a thong instead. And it’s just a single touch that has him wide-eyed, reeling—the edges of his vision dizzying into a hazy fog of aching, inexplicable need.

You should have come with a manual. Surely there’s a guide to get through the summer months with you? Some sort of text to explain the steps he needs to take to keep himself in control in public?

The rapturous throb of your saphenous vein leaps against his fingertips as you allow him to slant just a hairsbreadth further—close enough to feel the heat of the place he’s been countless times before—close enough to slide a thick finger along fabric he knows is wet.

Only for you to tear your hand away and drop your knee as the sound of Yuki's voice pierces the heavy sensual tension hanging between your bodies.

“There you are!” She calls out cheerfully from the sliding glass door. “My song is on, come dance with me!”

There’s a gentle tuft of laughter from you then—one tinged with dark satisfaction as you drink in the wrecked, wanton expression flaming across Nanami’s features. As if thoroughly enjoying reducing him to this strung-out state of desperation. You could rule the world if given the right resources.

“Yuki, let’s get you some water. You’ve had a little too much to drink…” your voice trails off as you disappear in a rustle of vermilion and sashaying hips with one last loaded look over your bare shoulder.

He manages a shuddering breath that feels more like sandpaper sliding down his abused lungs. The delicious scent of your perfume still clings to the charged air around him, the phantom-like caress of your dress along his knuckles, the sound of your throaty laugh disappearing back to the party outside. Each ragged exhale has his body subtly canting forward, giving silent chase to your retreating form as if by muscle memory alone.

This game…this deliciously maddening game you delight in playing has Nanami’s entire being teetering on the razor-thin edge of unraveling completely. Each new summer ensemble seems specifically designed to further tempt and destroy the decades of discipline he’s meticulously cultivated since he was a teenager.

Nanami would think after a relationship or two, he would have steeled himself against falling victim to seduction. And yet, not a single woman from his past could have prepared Nanami for the devastating combination of your radiant beauty and barely-restrained hedonism.

Your laughter calls out to him again, his eyes snapping up to see you smiling as Yuki chugs the glass of water Choso has pressed to her lips. Completely innocent and free of devilish qualities, the fact that Nanami knows that dark side of you makes him fold his arms across his chest, sagging against the sofa and glaring at your form as he wills his erection to go down.

It’s two days before summer’s end when Nanami feels the steadily fraying threads of his self-control finally unravel into oblivion. He’s tried every possible tactic these last few months to stave off the relentless fire of desire you’ve been stoking within him—going for runs, ice cold showers, avoiding you when possible. He’s even resorted to having you model your newest sundress purchases at home in a desperate attempt at desensitizing himself. It all seems incredibly dramatic, but Nanami has no idea what else to do. Nothing has worked against the intoxicating mix of your lively beauty and increasingly bold choices designed to torment him until he’s six feet under.

He had known from the moment he accidentally stumbled upon that fateful periwinkle dress sitting in your laptop’s shopping cart that it would be his undoing. He can still picture with perfect clarity the way the model seemed to shimmer and dance on the screen as he clicked through the product imagery—he pictured it with heart throbbing clarity how it would look on you.

And he still has so many more years left of his life to enjoy.

Without conscious thought, Nanami had swiftly removed the item from the cart—an invasion of privacy that left him nauseous, but a necessary decision if only to spare himself.

He was stupid to think it would actually work.

So it comes as little surprise to see you boldly flaunting that silken number tonight at the rooftop gala marking his company’s most prosperous quarter yet. The twinkling strings of lantern bulbs and hot summer breezes swirling all around you only heighten the flagging warning that this night won’t end the way he wants.

As you glide about the rooftop, the pale periwinkle seems to float effortlessly around your body. Like every dress before, this one is no exception, complimenting the deepness of your skin. The whisper-weight fabric lays against your hips and waist, simultaneously shaping and gracefully draping in all the right places.

The thin straps crisscross behind your neck, framing your graceful shoulders and collarbones. As you turn, the silk lifts and drifts around you in a mesmerizing swirl of decadence. It’s another plunging V-neckline, but this dress sits on your body and decolletage with an air of romantic grace. It’s not scandalous like that night at Yuki and Choso's.

But it’s the back—oh it’s the back that makes his gaze heavy, that makes the organ in his chest beat out of rhythm with every inch he uncovers. Try as he might, it’s absolutely impossible for him to look away from the delicate contours and valleys of your body put on full and enthralling display by this backless dress. From the elegant lines of your throat and shoulders left teasingly bare to the soft inward curve of your arched lower back—the dress is a cruel temptation showcasing every salivating inch of you that he’s spent countless nights worshiping.

It’s beautiful on you, truly and unimaginably beautiful, and it’s a terrible twist of fate that such a simple observation is destroying Nanami from the inside. All that discipline—the cold showers, the extra miles added to his runs, the attempts of desensitization—it’s useless. No matter how hard he tries, he will always notice something new each time he looks at you. And it will always wreck him and throw him off axis whether he likes it or not.

Because amidst all the warmth and sociability of this rooftop celebration, all Nanami’s rapidly sharpening focus can zero in on is the subtle glisten of perspiration trailing down the slope of your spine. Every imperceptible turn and cock of your hip amplified tenfold by the silk that gets to touch you while he watches. As if personally daring him to finally surrender every last shred of patience and simply take what he wants.

A soft chuckle escapes your full lips as Nanami’s boss leans in closer, undoubtedly regaling you with some far from amusing anecdote from the office. The charming sound has every thread of Nanami’s control taut like a bowstring. Because that sound means a lot for him nowadays—laughing at his dry humor, the movies you both watch together, the giggling stuttering into whimpers and moans of ecstasy when your back arches from his tongue.

Suddenly, the light summer breeze kicks up in and swirls around you, waving the hem of your dress and the two-day old twistout on your head. Instinctively, you reach up to tuck a lock of those dark silken twists behind one ear.

Time itself seems to slow as he watches those inky tendrils ghost across your bare shoulders and the exposed skin of your upper back. Nanami watches with visceral hunger as those wild strands make playful, meandering paths across the smoothly toned expanse of brown skin. His entire body instantaneously flushes with hot need and arousal at the simple, harmless image. The soft rise of your breasts shake as you offer a fake laugh to whatever drivel your boss has just said. And in that split second—the culmination of tonight, this dress, the entire summer of taunting and coy smiles— Nanami’s restraint finally shatters into so many useless slivers at his feet.

Before conscious thought can override anything else, he’s stalking across the rooftop with rigid, predatory intensity—adjusting the unique glasses on his nose, his mouth set in a grim line of single-minded focus. The gaggle of chattering coworkers and small-talk banter all fade away into muted static and white noise. All that exists in this heated vortex of Nanami’s rapidly narrowing universe is the coiling pull of you.

“Ah, Nanami!” His boss greets heartily, clearly surprised yet pleased to see the company’s best worker at last. “Your partner and I were just discussing a better way to spruce up the quarterly party for next year. Care to weigh in, my friend?”

The question lands on deaf ears. Because at the exact same instant his professional mentor is extending that olive branch of attempted small talk…your eyes are on his, a knowing, small smile pressed to the hem of your champagne glass as you take a sip. The sight of your jewelry, the fabric against your skin, the way you look at him…the desire that rips through his body is staggering.

“I apologize for interrupting, but I need to speak with you,” he grates out in a tone heavy with gravel and masculine focus. His palm finds the smoldering heat of your lower back without conscious thought, marking delirious patterns of desire against your naked skin. Your eyebrows furrow with a silent question at the rough timbre of his command…even though you see that undisguised storm of hunger and frustrated desire raging behind his tinted glasses.

“Of course,” you finally murmur and turn to his coworkers to wish them goodbye, setting down your glass on the table beside you.

He’s burning, raging with a fever that doesn’t even exist and each shallow inhale draws more of your achingly familiar perfume into his senses—only making things worse.

He guides you through the crowded rooftop party and towards the elevators with a molten intensity bordering on feral. Nanami’s palm maps possessive into the searing expanse of your back. Every step jostles his arm flush against the silk on your frame.

“Where exactly are we going in such a hurry?”

The rich, seductive rasp of your voice is designed to torture him further, but Nanami doesn’t rise to it, simply presses fingers more firm to your back, his other punches the elevator button with purpose.

“I said I need to speak with you,” he finally bites out. “That should be more than enough.”

You lean further into his touch and look up at him, your tongue darts out to toy with your plush bottom lip in a show of faux innocence.

“Is that so?” The melodic lilt coupled with the ghost of your warm breath fanning across Nanami’s jaw would have been enough to make a lesser man’s knees buckle entirely. Instead, it simply ratchets the tension coiling through his powerful frame into a downright maddening degree.

The soft chime of the arriving elevator makes you both turn in tandem, the mirror of the elevator doors casting your reflections—allowing Nanami to drink in the smoldering fire already blazing behind your heavy-lidded stare. There’s profound hunger glimmering there that matches his own. An unadulterated wildness reined in by the thinnest veneer of coy indifference. You’ve always been slick—but not tonight.

The mirrored doors slide open with a hushed mechanical shush, you both step inside, and the doors slide closed.

Nanami offers a silent apology for the violation of manners his parents instilled in him before he backs you into the far wall—the breath punching out of your lungs as your back makes shocking contact with the mirrored paneling. Now it’s you breathless, struggling to compose yourself as the masculine power of Nanami consumes you.

A subtle shudder ripples through Nanami’s abdomen as you wantonly tilt your head back, arching your throat in wordless invitation just as your fingertips rise to trail heated lines over his heaving chest. The lapels are black as midnight, the undershirt a crisp white, and he’s the handsome man that’s all yours even as he fights between what’s right and what he wants. One of his palms is cupping the slope of your jawline as the other maps out the silk of your dress. He bends slowly until the heat of his mouth is tracing the full curve of your parted lips—a heavy brush of sculpted male confidence against your teasing softness.

“You’ve pressed against my boundaries to a criminal degree, love,” Nanami warns in a dark rasp scorched with the first cinders of the firestorm yet to come. His palm slides up the bare inward curve of your back until his fingers are tunneling through the wild riot of your twistout at the nape of your neck. Tinted eyes slit in satisfaction as your head tips back farther on a shaky inhale—granting him access to the deliciously vulnerable length of your throat.

“Nothing to say?” he husks out in the open, admiring the flutter of your lashes as his voice hits you. Nanami’s mouth brands a hot trail from the sensitive juncture of your jaw up towards the shell of your ear. You whimper softly at the slow, torturous build—the same sound of rapture he has memorized and pulled from you countless times between the sheets. It’s enough to strip away any lingering reservations entirely.

With the strength he’s never ashamed to show you, hands slide under your thighs and he yanks you up. Your legs wrap around him on instinct, your arms winding around his neck, your head tilting back again to smack on the mirrored glass.

His tongue glides along the buttery curve of your throat, tasting the familiar tang of salt and vanilla on the tip and the smell of him, of pure Nanami clouds your mind enough to finally look down at him, your noses a hairsbreadth from each other. It’s a silent standoff, your eyes as teasing as they are filled with arousal, his eyes dark with something that makes you shiver against him.

And then he’s kissing you, deep and hungry, his hands roaming the bare expanse of your back, dipping lower, pulling you closer. You melt into Nanami’s kiss, your initial surprise giving way to a matching hunger. Your hands slip under his suit jacket, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt. He groans against your mouth, the sound vibrating through you, igniting your nerves, thrumming in your veins.

You don’t even hear the elevator doors open but you feel him walking, lips hot and demanding groaning into you as you slide your fingers into his golden locks and pull. Nanami knows these floors like the back of his hand, and he’s familiar with the abandoned break room on the thirtieth floor, his hand yanking the door open and shutting it hard, lips never leaving yours.

You gasp into his mouth when your ass lands on the old buttons of a copier, the machine groaning under your weight, the plastic buttons beeping in protest. As Nanami presses you against the copier, he can’t help but marvel at the feel of you beneath his hands. The dress, this damn dress, is like water under his fingers, smooth and cool and entirely too thin. He can feel every curve, every contour, every shuddering breath you take.

He punctuates his actions with a roll of his hips, pressing his hardness that strains against his slacks against your core. You moan, your head falling back, and he takes advantage of your exposed neck, his lips and teeth worrying the sensitive skin, his tongue licking the marks he leaves.

“How many more dresses do you have?” he growls against your throat, his voice rough with need. “How many more ways are you going to torture me?”

You gasp as his teeth graze your pulse point, your fingers threading into his hair. “T-that depends,” you manage, your voice breathy. Nanami’s chuckle is dark, dangerous, his hands trailing higher, dipping into the seam of your panties, his fingers brushing over your clit. He savors the way your jerk against him, a whimper leaving your throat as you pant into the dusty air.

“Is this what you wanted? To reduce me to this? A man so desperate for you he’d take you in a public place?”

“Yes,” you hiss, arching into his touch, your breasts pressing against the thin silk that covers them. “Yesyesyes...”

Nanami’s groan is part frustration, part desire. “You have no idea what you do to me.” There’s a hint of wonder in his voice, a note of awe at the depth of his own need. His fingers press more insistently, circling, gathering your slick to make each stroke more messy and impactful, driving you towards the edge. The buttons of the copier dig into your skin, the machine whirring and beeping beneath you, adding to the crescendo of sensation. He can hear the mechanical shuffle of papers being chucked out from one end, slapping onto the floor.

“Do you like this?” Nanami pants, his breath hot against your ear. “Do you like teasing me, driving me crazy?”

“Yes,” you admit, free of shame, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, Kento.”

He slides two fingers into your wet heat, savoring your wanton gasp, increases the pressure, the speed of his fingers, pushing you closer to the precipice. “Have you done this before?” he asks, his voice raw with emotion. “Teased other men like this, made them want you so badly they’d forget themselves?”

“No,” you moan desperately, your head thrashing from side to side, deep locks brushing your cheeks. “Never. It’s only ever been you, Kento. Only you.”

“Say it again,” he demands, his teeth grazing your earlobe.

“Only you,” you pant. “I’m yours, Kento. Completely.”

It doesn’t take long—countless strokes inside of you, a curl of his fingers, a twist of his wrist, and you shatter. Your cry of pleasure mixes with the beeps and groans of the copier, your body shaking, your fingers digging harder into Nanami’s shoulders that he’s sure you’ve broken the barrier.

He holds you through it, his lips on your skin, his murmured praises in your ear, soft litanies of words that has made you fall deeper in love with him each passing day. You don’t get a chance to come down fully because he’s on you again, pressing closer, pushing your panties to the side and digging his fingers into the meat of your hips. But the angle is wrong, you’re too high and the copier digs into his thighs and impedes him from getting to you the way he wants.

With a grunt of frustration, Nanami lifts you off the machine. Your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you to the conference table. He sweeps aside the accumulated debris with one arm, sending sugar and tea packets scattering to the floor. Your back hits the table, the hard surface unyielding beneath you. Plastic cups crunches and snaps under your weight, sugar and coffee creamer powder puffing into the air, settling on your heated skin.

“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs, soaking in the radiance you beam up at him, “how many times I’ve imagined this? Pulling you away from everyone, getting my hands on you…not being able to do it because I’m better than that.”

You moan as he nips at your collarbone, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer. “And yet here you are,” you tease, breathless with twinkling eyes that shine right through him.

He captures your lips again, the kiss deep and demanding. You arch into him, your hands throwing off his glasses—they smack against a wall—your fingers deftly undoing his tie, working on the buttons of his shirt. You need to feel his skin against yours, need to be closer, and he shudders at the feel of your warm hands breaching the open buttons, sliding up his bare chest.

As if reading your mind, Nanami reaches for the zipper of your dress, slowly pulling it down. The fabric parts, baring more of your skin to his heated gaze. He takes a moment to admire you, his eyes roaming your body like a physical caress.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself. Then his hands are on you, tracing your curves, fingers brushing your nipples before he gives them a pinch. A whimper shakes from you, your fingers pressing into his bare chest.

Dimly, he’s aware that he should stop this, that he’s in a public place, at a work event. But the heat of your body, the insistence of your touch, the mounting pleasure coursing through his veins—it all conspires to drown out reason.

Your hands fumble with his belt, your fingers shaking with need. He helps you, impatiently pushing his pants and boxers down just enough. And then he’s touching you, his fingers digging into your hips, sliding you closer to him until the tip of him presses to the sopping wet heat of your center, wet from your orgasm and still ready.

“Please,” you whimper, hardly recognizing your own voice. “Please, Kento…”pushing your dress further up your hips, trailing over your ribs, cupping your breasts until the skin spills between the gaps. His eyes widen at the sight, the base of his spine heating up. So many times he’s seen you like this in the privacy of your home, and now it’s in an old break room at his workplace, the consequence of you finally taking things too far.

He’s free of any feral energy as he kisses you, sliding into your welcoming heat slowly to acquaint himself again. Your fingers dig into his skin, your chest pressing into him as you adjust, the table creaking under your joined weight as you wrap your legs around his waist and dig your silver heels into his back. Soon he’s moving above you, within you, each thrust pushing you higher, each thrust fanning the fire within himself.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips, begging again for the unspoken demand of more. And even though the roles are reversed right now—you the one being teased—he gives you whatever you ask.

He sets a pace that’s just shy of punishing, each snap of his hips brushing his zipper against the inside of your thighs. The room fills with the sounds of sex—the slap of skin on skin, your gasps and moans, his grunts into the air. He cannot believe he’s in this moment, doing something so scandalous.

“You reduce me to this,” he pants against your lips. “It’s not fair.”

“I know,” you gasp, your hands pulling at open lapels of his shirt, squeezing around the buttons, the fabric groaning. “I’m sorry.”

But you’re not, he can tell. There’s a hint of satisfaction in your voice, a touch of pride. And why shouldn’t there be? You’ve brought him, the ever-controlled Nanami Kento, to his knees. He loves you too much to ever want anything different.

“I’m a good man,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, curving his next thrust that he knows will brush against that spot you like.

“You’re an amazing man, Ken,” you moan in surprise, your hips lifting to meet his to seek more. “The best. Only the best for me. Only you, Kento.”

The praise makes him shake, the fire in his body raging like an inferno, burning his skin, breaking him into a sweat. He presses a knee into the table, throws one of your legs over his shoulders and savors the ragged way your name leaves his lips as he gives you everything.

“You feel so good,” he pants, his tongue licking the skin of your neck. He tastes the saltiness of your sweat, the sanitizing taste of perfume, the powdered creamer and sugar that sticks to your skin from the table. “So perfect.”

“Come on, Kento” you keen, your nails raking down the suit on his back. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. Couldn’t, even if he wanted to. He’s lost in you, in the feel of you, in the knowledge that he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. Wanton, needy, completely undone.

Nothing else matters—not the party going on just floors above, not the risk of discovery, not the propriety you’re both abandoning. In this moment, there’s only you and him and the heat that’s consumed you both all summer, finally finding release.

Nanami’s thrusts become erratic, his rhythm faltering as the base of his spine tightens in a delicious way to let him know that he’s close. His hand slips between your bodies, past the silk of your rumpled periwinkle dress, gliding over your clit in well-practiced strokes and the leg over his shoulder tenses up, your head digging into the table, neck arching for him to see the flecks of sugar sticking to your neck.

“Ohhh right there Kento. Right there. Please, please I’m gonna cum—I’m—“ you smack a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself, eyes shutting tight.

“Absolutely not.” Nanami hasn’t suffered for months just to be deprived of anything during this encounter. He yanks the hand from your mouth, pressing it hard into the table, and the shock on your face as you look up at him, the staccato of your breaths, the undeniable seriousness in his gaze even as he pistons into you, admiring the way your dress pools at your waist as he gives you more, harder, deeper until—

“Ohhhh fuck!” you cum with a long dragged out cry, your body clenching around him, walls locking around his cock to the point his orgasm is yanked from him as he falls over the edge with you, pulsing deep inside with a groan muffled against your neck.

He sags against you, both of your chests heaving against each other. He slips a hand behind you, trailing lightly up and down your glistening back as you lie beneath him, spent and satisfied.

As he slowly comes down, he presses a lingering kiss to your sweat-dampened hairline, the roots of your twistout beginning to frizz. There’s a hint of coconut from your leave-in as his nose brushes down to your cheek. So familiar, yet still so intoxicating after almost a year of smelling it. As if he could ever grow numb to the potent lure of your presence.

A ragged chuckle escapes him at that thought, the mirthful rumble making you pull up your head to look at him. Nanami drinks in the utterly debauched vision you make—beautiful brown sweaty skin, hair messy, lips swollen and smirking as per usual.

His arm tightens reflexively around the sensual curves of your waist, pulling you closer in a subconscious gesture of possession and longing. Because for all the delicious torture you’ve inflicted over the past few months with your endless parade of tempting summer dresses…he wouldn’t trade this hard-won moment for anything.

Nanami is many things—disciplined, regimented, a hardworking—albeit tired— professional. But he is also only human at his core. And you, his beautiful free-spirit of a partner, has a simply breathtaking talent for awaking the primal, unrestrained parts of him he usually keeps so rigorously leashed.

“You know,” you murmur in that velvety voice he loves so much. “The minute I realized the dress vanished from my cart was the minute I knew it would be the one.”

A sleepy chuckle breaks free from his lips at your words, the sound causing you to join in as well—a vibrant melody that coats his soul in pure contentment. Nosing closer, he peppers a line of feather light kisses along the line of your jaw. “You’ll never go easy on me, will you?”

“And rob myself of bringing down Nanami Kento piece by piece?” You snort, shooting him a look of pure, playful sin from beneath your lashes. “I might have to make sundress season a year-round thing.”

His answering groan is part growl, part disbelieving laughter as the palm behind your back glides along the elegant curve of your spine down to the bend of your hip. Ever the devilish temptress without even trying, even in the aftermath.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“That’s a good way to go,” you tease, pulling him down for another kiss, sweet and sticky and full of promise.

His hands slide along the canvas of your body, fingers dipping into the ridges of the open zipper of your dress. He’ll make sure it’s dry cleaned so you can wear it next year. And hopefully he’ll be better prepared.

When you giggle against his lips and dig your heels into his back, he realizes that there will be no amount of preparation when it comes to you.

Thanks for reading!

593 notes · View notes

jazzthatonewriterchick · 5 months ago

Text

Hot As A Summer’s Eve (Rengoku x Black!Fem!Chubby!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

Pairing: Rengoku Kyojuro x Black!Fem!Plus-Sized!Reader

Synopsis: In which our favorite sexy, fire-haired himbo Rengoku decides to confess his feelings to you, his favorite Demon Slayer Corp, and show you that he adores your body just for how it was made: by fucking you stupid in the woods at a summer festival.

Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS DNI), Older!Rengoku x Younger!Reader; Public Sex, Forest Sex, Crush Confession, Foreplay, Breeding Kink, Cumpie, Oral, Masturbation, Breast Worship, Oral (Giving & Receiving), Facefuck, Multiple Positions, Sex Against a Tree, Doggystyle, Almost Caught, Spanking, Mild Choking, MDom!Rengoku, fsub!Reader, Aftercare

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

Writer’s Note: A thank you to @eevees-hobbies for trusting me to write this commission & post it publicly! I’m gonna start writing more Demon Slayer shit after this lol. I hope y’all enjoy! ❤️ -Jazz

********

“Rengoku, I…I didn’t know you felt this way about me.”

You say this while standing in the cool, lush forest yards away from the glowing lights, cheery live music, and chatter of visitors coming from the summer festival that you’ve been looking forward to all week.

The highly-anticipated festival is thrown every year to celebrate the summer’s solstice where businesses set up vendors to make a profit, shaved ice and free sake shots are aplenty, and people wear kimonos and adobes to celebrate in full. Rengoku has been looking forward to it too.

But not for the flavored shaved ice, free sake, games to win goldish, live performances, or fireworks that are done at the end of the festival. He was only looking forward to it for a chance to spend time with you.

You, the beautiful and magnetic demon slayer that has been learning and training with him, the eight other Hashira members, and the other new members of the Demon Slayer Corps. You with your soft, curly black hair, smooth skin that he wishes to touch, bright smile, and luscious, beautiful body.

Truth be told, Rengoku doesn’t give a fuck about the festival. He wasn’t even going to go even though the rest of his group and the newest Demon Slayer Corps members were going. But when he found out you’d be in attendance, he rushed to iron his kimono for the occasion. The moment he saw you in your red kimono with its pink flowers, he knew he had to tell you how he felt finally.

And when he saw you laughing at something Tengen said, the flirty, cocky motherfucker, he definitely knew he had to act fast. He felt bad for having such negative thoughts about his fellow slayer. Tengen was always a great guy and an even greater guy! But there was something about seeing him flash his white smile and flirty eyes at pretty, plump little you while you slurped on your strawberry water ice.

Embarrassingly, Rengoku felt his cock stir beneath his kimono as he watched your lips and tongue stained red. He must’ve looked insane because Tanjiro asked if anything was wrong.

He can’t understand why he feels so deeply for you. He’s never felt this way about any woman, let alone a Demon Slayer Corp! Sure, he’s found women attractive, but the feelings you invoke in him are primal. Sexual. Personal. He finds himself going mad seeing you around other men or when you flash one of those pretty smiles his way.

He can’t quite put his finger on why you affect him the way you do. Maybe it’s the way your hair bounces when you walk or how it smells faintly of mangos whenever you’re near him. Maybe it’s how kind and sweet you are to everyone. Maybe it’s the way you always give your all when it comes to training and you don’t let your size stop you from doing what you want.

True, you are a bigger girl. “Chubby”, he’s heard you call yourself before. You need to wear a larger size for the Corp uniform, and your arms have an adorable jiggle to them, as do your thighs, and you have these chunky legs that he wants to see wrapped around his waist, and you’re just so perfect and soft and small to him.

Though you’d probably disagree with the small part, Rengoku doesn’t care. You’d be small to him no matter what size you are being that he is much bigger than you.

He is crazy over you! During the day, he watches you stretch during training sessions, your athletic sets tight on your plump body, or do your warm-ups, your voluptuous breasts jiggling enticingly in your sports bra. Even when you serve him his meals at supper with a bright smile or give him a “Good morning, Rengoku”, he is ready to jump you.

During the night, he is just as unhinged. He tosses, turns, and sweats in his sheets imagining you in them with him. His big hand fists his hard cock, pumping it vigorously at the salacious images of your thick thighs pinned under his hands as he bounces you up and down on his cock, groping your tits, stomach, and ass. You’d be so small underneath him, his big body taking over as he ruts into you and hopefully breeds you, taking you as his own.

He towers over you now, staring down into those big, brown, doe-like eyes of yours that twinkle like the stars above. Realizing he’s been staring at you without answering, Rengoku blushes and quickly tries to recover. “Uh…y-yes,” he replies, clearing his throat. “I felt that tonight was the night I should tell you: I…like you.”

He had told you this minutes before when he randomly asked you to go for a walk with him on the walking trails in the forest. You had agreed much to his shock and relief. You had placed a hand on his bicep, hard and big from years of training, as you walked through the forest darkened by night.

When you came to a clearing of pink flowers that matched the ones on your kimono, Rengoku finally confessed his year-long feelings to you, albeit sweating profusely and stammering. At first, when he confessed, you smiled your beautiful, blinding smile and said, “Oh, Ren, I like you too!” You placed a hand on his arm, making him shiver. “You’re a great fighter and an even greater friend.”

Rengoku can’t lie: he died inside hearing that. But he wasn’t the type to back down. You needed to know how he truly felt. So he elaborated: “No, no…I mean…in a romantic sense. I like you.”

Your smile had faded, replaced with an expression of confusion and surprise. You stand before him now, still looking confused and a little tense. “I-I’m sorry,” he says, feeling guilty and ashamed for making you feel some type of way. “Is this making you uncomfortable? I can sense the tension in your body. Please tell me I’m being too overbearing or if you don’t feel the same way!”

You stare down at your flip-flops sinking into the pink flowers before. “I didn’t say that,” you softly say. “I’m just…surprised is all. You’ve never really made it clear how you feel about me before. You never gave me signals or anything.” Rengoku cocks his head to the side like a lost puppy. “Signals?” he asks. “I’m not sure I follow.”

You look up at him standing a good head taller than you. “Y’know, like your hand lingering on my waist during training more than it should. Flirting. Compliments. Maybe asking me on a date.”

Rengoku blinks and his face flames up in embarrassment. You’re right! How could he tell you this now when he’s never made it known that he feels such a way about you? Tengen has no problem with it. Even Obanai, as shy and as reserved as he is, showed Mitsuri how he felt before they started officially dating.

Rengoku awkwardly rubs the back of his thick neck, right under his curtain of fiery orange and red hair like a lion’s mane. “Oh,” he chuckles bashfully. “I understand. Well, I didn’t want to come off as inappropriate or make you feel fearful of me. After all, I am your superior.”

You shrug to yourself, gnawing on your lush bottom lip. He stares at it a little too intently. “I guess so,” you say. “But that’s not stopping you from telling me how you feel now.” You give a little awkward, soft giggle that eases the tension somewhat.

Silence descends upon you for a few seconds, only filled by the distant sounds of the festival, a lone hooting owl, and crickets chirping in the night. He watches your face, noticing your frown and apprehensive eyes. “So…how do you feel about that?” he softly asks. “You don’t seem happy. Are you with one of the others? Maybe Tengen?”

You blink up at him, shocked. “Huh?!” you gasp, looking horrified at the idea. “No, no, the man already has three doting wives! I don’t wanna be one of them!” Rengoku breathes a sigh of relief. He would’ve probably killed himself if that were to happen.

“I’m just wondering if this is really real,” you admit. “Like maybe I’m dreaming or this is just a prank the others put you up to.” You look like you’re battling with yourself to admit this, still staring at the flowers.

Rengoku is confused by your confession. “What?” he asks, perplexed by such a statement. “Why would you think that?” You flush, playing with the tie to your kimono. “Well, b-because…” You pause, nibbling on that damn plump bottom lip again. He is quiet, patiently waiting for you to finish. When you look back up at him, you look so sad and broken that he wants to scoop you up and hold you.

“Because of my size,” you softly say. “My body. A man as handsome as you could get someone much smaller than me.” Rengoku takes a moment to process this, wondering what your size has to do with anything. “But you are small,” he laughs. “You’d be small to me at any size, Y/N. And beautiful at that.”

You look stunned by his compliment, but more than anything, you don’t look like you quite believe him. That’s when Rengoku realizes it: “Do you not like how you look?” He asks, wounded. How could you not see yourself as beautiful and as sexy as he does?

“No,” you sigh. “It’s not that. It’s just…well, men don’t exactly go for girls like me unless they just want me sexually. I’m not ever pursued romantically a-and…” You trail off, withering like a flower before him.

Rengoku is enraged. He wishes now he would’ve expressed to you how attractive he found you. He wants so desperately to tell you how he would stare at you while you trained or stretched, loving how tight your spandex shorts were on you. He may even tell you how he’d stroke himself at the thought of him taking down those shorts and fucking you, but not right now.

But right now, you do need reassurance. So he bends down and plucks one of the pink flowers before holding it between you. “You deserve to be pursued romantically every day,” he says. “You deserve to be courted not for selfish gain. You deserve to be cared for and taken care of for the beautiful, intelligent, sweet person that you are.”

He pauses, putting the flower behind your ear. He bites back a gasp at the softness of your hair as his fingers graze your curls. “And I’d like to be the man to do it,” he confesses. “I’m sorry it took me this long to say anything to you, but…I’d like to show you how I feel and have been feeling about you. If you’re okay with that.”

He stares down at you carefully, trying to see any kind of sign of a no in your pretty, round face. But when you look up at him with a shy smile and take one of his huge hands in your smaller ones, he knows that you feel the same as he does. “I’d like that, Rengoku,” you say barely above a whisper.

Rengoku cannot stop the smile that stretches across his face. Because you’re so short, he has to bend down to kiss you, but does it slowly, giving you time to change your mind and say no. But you don’t. In fact, you lean in too, moving up slightly on your tip toes to reach him. Then your eyes are closing, your mouth is parting, and your lips are on his.

You feel and taste better than he ever could’ve imagined. Your lips are pillowy soft, supple, and taste slightly of shaved strawberry-flavored ice. He knows you can taste the sake on his, but luckily not the bowls of miso ramen and other treats he consumed thanks to the mint leaves he chewed on earlier before he spirited you away.

A soft moan leaves your lips as your hands move to his chest, pressing against his hard pectorals. He feels his cock surge at the small sound and moves his hand to grab your waist. He doesn’t go any lower than that. Though you are driving him insane, he wants to be respectful of your body.

When you finally pull away, he is left in a daze and hard as a rock. That was so dreamy. Romantic even given the privacy and stars above. It’s the best kiss he’s ever had. “I’ve wanted that for so long,” he sighs. “Was it okay for you?” His hands move up to caress your back, making you shiver in delight.

“Yes,” you whisper and you lean up to kiss him again.

This one is more passionate and eager, yet still sweet, and knocks Rengoku off his feet. He can’t help but moan with you as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He wraps his arms tight around your waist, nearly picking you up off of the ground. Your bodies press flush together in the summer’s night, the only thing separating you being your clothes.

If the clothes were off, Rengoku doesn’t want to think about what would happen. And because he’s about a millisecond away from ripping off your kimono, he gently pulls himself away from you, both of you panting heavily. “We should probably head back now,” he shakily suggests. “The gang may be wondering where we—“

“No,” you protest. “Stay with me a little longer.” Though your eyes are shy, your hands grasp his biceps, keeping him grounded there. “I’ve wanted this too,” you confess, making Rengoku’s heart flutter. “I feel the same, Rengoku. I just didn’t want to tell you because—“

You don’t get a chance to finish because Rengoku’s big hands are grasping your cheeks and his lips are capturing yours in a mind-blowing, toe-curling kiss. You both feel fireworks explode in your head every time you touch. He pulls away and begins peppering your neck in kisses, slowly and sweetly. “I understand,” he breathlessly murmurs. “But it doesn’t matter now. Just show me how you feel now, Y/N.”

You softly moan, leaning your head back to expose your neck, allowing him to kiss every part of your skin. He goes lower, tracing his lips down to your chest and collarbones, right between that little sliver of your open kimono where he can see your cleavage. “Does that feel good?” He whispers. You nod, staring up at him in a daze.

He wants to make you feel even better. His body is hot and tingly for you, needing more of you. He swallows, struggling to form a coherent sentence due to his horny thoughts. “I want to show you more of how I feel. I…I want to…to—“

“Make love to me?” You finish, your smile bemused and seductive. “I want that too, Ren. I want out here, now, with you.” You run a hand up his chest, your fingers pressing against his skin.

“Out here?” He parrots, shocked. “But anyone could see us! We could be caught by one of the Corps or—“

“I don’t care,” you breathlessly protest. “I’ll be embarrassed about it later, but right now, I can’t wait. I’ve wanted you for so, so long!” You push yourself against him, giving him a feel of your hard nipples underneath your kimono. Your body wants him. You want him.

Rengoku cannot deny you even if he tried. “Lay down with me,” he whispers in his deep, velvety voice. You eagerly do so, lay down on your back in the pink flowers before. He lays beside you and begins kissing up your neck, his hands roaming over your body. “You’re perfect,” he sighs. “I’ve wanted you for so, so long. You have no idea.”

He looks at your face, his cock hardening at your eyes closed and your lush lips parted. “Yes,” you moan. “That feels so good, Rengoku.” With a pleasurable shiver, he toys with the tie holding your kimono together and pauses, looking at you. “May I?” You nod, helping him untie your kimono.

When the flaps finally fall open, his eyes widen at the heavenly sight in front of him: rolls, soft flesh, a jiggly tummy, thighs, and breasts. He practically moans at the sight of you. “Look at you, baby,” he coos. “You’re absolutely stunning.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your lips.

“Breathtaking.” His lips trail down to your neck to kiss your throat. “Sexy.” His tongue jets out to lick down to your breasts, much to your enjoyment. He takes one into his mouth and sucks on your hardened, brown nipple, rolling the little pebble around his tongue before popping it out of his mouth.

“Tasty,” he whispers. He smiles at your fit of giggles, your body jiggling under his hands. “You were fixin’ to say that,” you chuckle. “But so are you.” You lean in and give a salacious lick down his chest, coaxing him to take his kimono off from the waist up.

He moans at your hands and lips on him, touching, kissing, and licking up his muscles. While you do, he plays with your sweet, juicy tits, molding the pretty, heavy things in his hands and sucking on your nipples. When he lightly nibbles on one of them, you moan into the night, tilting your head back. “Right there,” you sigh.

“Where?” he teasingly asks. “Here?” He does it again but massages one of your tits as he does, stimulating you even further. At some point, you slide into his lap, causing you to straddle him and your panties to glide against his thigh. “Fuck, Ren!” you moan. Realizing how loud you are, you bite your lip. “Sorry. That just felt so good.”

Rengoku’s eyes flash with an inner fire only you can see at the sound of your sweet, delicious moans. “Don’t be sorry. It’s just us here, baby. You can be as loud as you want.” As he continues to coat your nipples in his spit and bites, you take his hands and put them on your ass as you grind into him shamelessly.

Rengoku can’t get enough of how free and liberated you are tonight. And just for him. He especially loves how soft your tits are and the heat he can feel pooling from between your legs. He stares up into your twinkling, brown eyes. “I want to taste more of you,” he pants. “May I do that?” Wordlessly, you nod, biting your lip and making him harder. “Stand up and lean against the tree. I’ll take it all from there.”

You do as he says and lean against a nearby tree, your body glistening in the silver moonlight. You look so ethereal and gorgeous that Rengoku nearly pulls his cock out and fucks you right against the tree! But not yet. Not until he pleases you first.

Minutes later, he does just that and has you pinned against the tree while he kneels in front of you, his tongue slurping at your cunt with one of your legs hooked over his shoulder. You pant and moan above him, your hands running through his long, fiery, spiked hair, pulling at strands when he gently sucks on your clit or swirls his tongue around your pussy.

You’re so vocal, unable to keep your voice down. “Oh, my God,” you moan. “Fuck, Rengoku, yes! Y-You’re so…oh…good!”

You whimper, squeezing your eyes tight due to the sheer pleasure he’s giving you. He can tell you love it from the way your pretty pussy is gushing into his mouth, giving him more and more of your honey.

He pulls away slightly to look up at you, his lips glistening with your juices. “It’s okay, baby,” he coos into your pussy. “Just let go. I’ve got you.” He dives back in, slurping and eating you as if it’s his last meal. You taste, smell, sound, and feel so damn good! How he’s wanted to do this for you for so long!

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he whimpers. “You’re so tasty here.” You’re the tastiest thing he’s ever consumed. He can feel his cock painfully aching underneath his kimono, leading him to slowly stroke himself as he eats you out. “Fuck!” You sob. “Please, R-Rengoku, don’t tease me!”

He can’t help it. He just loves how loud and slutty you sound whenever he slowly strokes up your slit to your rosebud. You sound so cute. So needy. He’s feeling needy too. That primal instinct to have you returns, overtaking him. “Need more,” he growls. “I need more of you, baby.”

Thinking with his dick instead of his brain, he takes your other leg and hooks it over his shoulder. Suddenly, your feet are dangling over his broad shoulders as he stands up, his hands securely under your ass and keeping you leaned against the tree. “Wait, wait!” you gasp, gripping his hair, your body tense with fear. “What are you—“

“Relax,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you. Just relax for me and don’t squirm too much.” He gives you a wink before diving into your pussy again, drinking your honey straight from the source.

All protests and fears are stolen away as you feel his tongue slide between your lips and inside you, your clit bumping against his nose. Your eyes roll back at the pleasure, the sight absolutely porn-worthy to Rengoku. “Oh, my God, yes,” you whine. “O-Oh, fuck, Ren, yes!”

Even as his neck starts to ache and his jaw tires, he doesn’t stop. He needs you to cum. He needs to make you feel good. When you begin to get louder and your pussy quivers, he can tell that you’re close and moves his jaw faster. “O-Oh, my God!” you sob. “Rengoku, I’m gonna cum! Oh, fuck yes, make me cum!”

His own need makes him insane, causing him to whimper into your pussy and say things he never would say. “Cum,” he begs. “I fucking need it. Give it to me, please.”

Hearing him beg so prettily makes you finally combust. “Oh, fuck!” you loudly sob as you cum around his tongue, that dam inside of you bursting open. Rengoku moans as you flood his mouth and taste buds with your cream, becoming drunk on your cum.

As you moan and babble above him, fisting his hair, he cleans you up, licking your thighs and pussy lips of all of your mess until you’re coated in just his spit.

When you finally come down from your high, you look down at him, grateful and adoringly so. “That was amazing,” you sigh, filling him with pride. “Now it’s your turn.”

He helps you down and switches places with you, so now he’s pinned against the wall, completely at your mercy. Minutes later, you find out just how delicious he is too when you’ve got his cock down your throat. And he finds out just how amazing your mouth is.

Your soft lips cushion around his shaft as you bop up and down on his cock, thick, girthy, and shaded tan. He blushed as you stared at it once he got his clothes off, standing naked before you like a living, breathing Adonis statue. “Your cock is so pretty, Rengoku,” you whispered, wrapping a hand around him.

You stared at your hand wrapped around his cock, your fingers only stretching around some of the base. You weren’t shocked that your big man also had a big cock. Rengoku, however, was a straight-up mess. He has faced the worst of demons in his lifetime yet he could hardly handle seeing such a pretty, plump thing on her knees with her pretty nails and skin contrasting against his pale complexion.

He can hardly handle you now, seeing his cock disappear down your throat, your cheeks hollow and your brown eyes staring up into his. Your wet tongue and soft lips feel like heaven, the closest he feels he’ll ever be to it, and he intends to enjoy it.

“That’s so nice,” he sighs. “You’re doing so well, baby.”

You pull off of him with a wet pop, letting his hard cock fall out of your mouth and slap against his lower stomach. “I hope so,” you giggle. “You’re so quiet.” He bites his lip, bashful. He was keeping it down in fear of others hearing him, but your mouth is so fucking good that he wants to growl, grunt, and scream about his pleasure to the listening skies.

Your hands sneak up his clenched abs and trembling body, caressing his stomach. “It’s okay,” you purr. “You can be loud too. Lemme hear you.” Then, with no hands, you wrap your lips around him again and deepthroat his cock, easing your throat back and forth.

Rengoku can hardly believe his eyes. How is such a beautiful creature such as yourself on his knees for him, throating his dick like this? A whimper leaves him and he begins to crumble, unable to hold himself back anymore. He wraps a hand in your hair, caressing your scalp as you bop your head. “Oh, fuck,” he groans. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Keep lookin’ up at me, gorgeous, please.”

You do so, giving him a look at the spit dripping from your lips and chin. It’s such a slutty, lewd look that has him throbbing and his balls clenching at the sight. You once again pop off of his cock and begin licking him up and down, even caressing his balls with your tongue.

“Is my mouth good, baby?” you teasingly ask. “Am I makin’ you feel good?”

Whimpers and groans leave Rengoku’s mouth as if a bottle has been opened and can’t be closed unless he cums. “Y-Yes!” he gasps. “So, so good!” Feeling your hot, wet tongue on his balls, filled up with cum for you, makes him want to bust all over your pretty face and body.

You pop his balls out of your mouth and lick up the underside of his dick. “You sound much better than my dreams,” you moan, taking a lick of his cock. You pause, quickly pumping his cock with your hand as you stare into his eyes. “Fuck my face, Ren. I want you to.”

You press a kiss to his head, making him flinch. “Please,” you whimper, batting those pretty lashes up at him. How can he possibly deny you?

Losing all control and restraint, Rengoku pushes you back down onto his cock and proceeds to fuck your face, thrusting his hips into your soft, wet hole. You gag and gargle around his dick, breathing through your nostrils in time with his thrusts. He can feel his mind going blank and his entire body clenching as his balls tighten, ready to empty themselves out of his cock and down your pretty, sloppy throat.

You help him, holding his hips and pushing yourself deeper so his cock hits the back of your throat. He loudly moans at the contact, not even caring if anyone from the festival hears. He can feel his end nearing. “Hah, hah, fuck, gorgeous!” he pants. “I-I think I’m gonna…you need to stop or I’ll…oh, fuck!”

He has no chance to fight it. With a loud, low groan of your name, he spills his seed into your mouth and down your throat. You moan eagerly as he fills your tastebuds with his warm, salty cum, flooding your tongue with the taste of him. You don’t move, instead licking up the rest of him and swallowing his nut. The sight of you taking him so well makes the orgasm last longer and he nearly passes out from the blissful feeling.

When he finally finishes, you pull off of him and lick your lips of his nut and your spit. “I’m sorry,” he sheepishly apologizes. “I couldn’t stop it.” You giggle cutely at him despite having done what you just did. “Don’t be sorry. I enjoyed it.” And he loves that you enjoyed it.

He holds a hand out to help you off of your knees. As you stand before him and wrap your arms around him, only one thing stops you from being flush against each other: his cock which has begun to grow hard again, standing at attention. You look down at the growing appendage and your eyes grow wide at the sight. “Oh!” you gasp. “Y-You’re still–”

“Yeah,” he sighs, subconsciously criticizing his dick. “I just can’t believe I really have you like this and I guess I’m just excited.”

Feeling your soft, plump body against him is more than he can take! He needs to see you underneath him, taking his cock, or bent over, your ass presented to him to spank and massage until he empties himself inside of you again.

But he wants you to want that too, so he presses a hand to your cheek to keep your eyes fixated on his. “If you don’t want to go any further, we don’t have to. It’s all up to you, sweetie.”

You press your cheek farther into his touch and then stand on your tiptoes to kiss him. Your soft lips make him grow harder. “I want to,” you murmur softly against his mouth. “We may have to keep quiet though.” He nods in understanding.

That doesn’t last for long though. Actually, that “quiet” shit goes straight out the window the minute Rengoku gets inside of you and has you pinned up against the tree while you sink down onto his cock. You are both unable to keep your voices down as your sobbing wet, tight pussy slides down on Rengoku’s thick, hard cock over and over again, somehow becoming more intense with each passing second.

“Fuck, Ren!” You moan into his ear. “You’re so…so…oh, fuck!” You wrap your arms and legs tight around him while he bounces you up and down on top of him, filling you up with dick again and again.

Rengoku can barely handle the feeling of your soft, curvy body against him, his big hands gripping your ass as he thrusts up into you. “I know,” he groans. “You feel so fuckin’ good, gorgeous. Fuck, I’m so sorry it took me so long to do this.”

But feeling your bodies, damp and sticky from the summer’s night, against each other and your cunt squeezing around him make it all worth it. “M-Me too!” You whimper sweetly to him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt before.” You bury your face in his hair as you moan and whine, trying to keep your voice down as much as you can.

Rengoku laughs lightly as he fucks you against the tree, gripping you to him. “You sound so cute, baby,” he pants. “You love gettin’ fucked out in public like this, don’t you? Who would’ve thought such a great trainer would be such a little slut.”

Your pussy tightens at the vulgar word, leading him to fuck you slower, teasing you. His strokes are still deep and draw sobs and whines out of you that make him want to bust the fattest nut inside of you. To anyone who walked by, they’d see him—a big, tall man—fucking you—a beautiful, curvy woman with the heels of her feet in her man’s firm ass and her nails sinking into his shoulders.

After a few more strokes, Rengoku gently lowers you onto your feet. You look up at him, dazed and cock drunk. In his crimson eyes rimmed with gold, you see passion and lust flared within them. “Turn around,” he demands. “I need to see this gorgeous ass bounce when I cum again.”

He leans down to give you an open-mouthed kiss, swirling his tongue erotically with yours. When he pulls away, he presses a kiss to your earlobe. “And I want us to cum together,” he murmurs into your ear. “Can we do that, baby?” He takes a nibble of your earlobe, emitting a soft moan from you.

You grip his arms and sink your pretty, pink nails into them. “Please,” you whimper. He pulls away and bends his knees so he’s at eye level with you. “Please what, darling?” One of his big hands grips your chin, forcing you to keep looking at him.

You pull your lush bottom lip between your teeth and utter two little words that feel like a loaded gun to him: “Fuck me.”

It’s like Rengoku becomes a whole other person. Gone is the gold retriever, sunshiney man to see on a regular basis. The man in his place is lustful and demanding. And you love every minute of it, especially when he turns you around and bends you over, even gives your ass a smack. At the sound of your pleased moan, he does it again, the sharp sound of his hand connecting with your jiggling asscheek a symphony.

“Ready for me?” He softly asks, sliding his cock against your slit. You whimperingly beg him to just take you, your knees bent and hands braced against the tree. As soon as he slides back inside you, he can’t stop the moan that escapes him: “Fuuuuck.”

You let out a moan as well, feeling your pussy stretch around his thick cock as he slides in, his pelvis flush against your asscheeks. His strokes start off slow and deep, his hands gripping your juicy hips, his face buried in your hair as he whispers sweet, dirty nothings to you, like “You’re such a good girl” and “You look so perfect with my cock in you, darling”.

At the sound of your voice rising above the trees, he goes harder and faster, his big hands gripping your tits. Wet plap-plap sounds fill the air, mingling with your mindless babbling as Rengoku wears your pussy out: “Shit, Rengoku, yes, fuck me! Fuck me just like that, oh, oh!”

You begin to grind back into him, meeting his thrusts and causing him to sink even deeper inside of you. “Yes, gorgeous,” he praises you, laying a spank on your ass. “Fuck me back. Take me like you own me.”

You fuck each other, giving all the energy that you have in bringing each other pleasure. Rengoku can feel his balls tightening at the sight of your soft, round ass bouncing against him while you moan and whine. He’s so close! You are too and you make that known to him. “Oh, f-fuck, R-Ren,” you whimper. “I’m so close! Please don’t stop! Don’t—“

“Did you hear that?” A distant voice asks. “I think I heard it back there.” Tanjiro.

You and Rengoku share a look like you just heard a murder. He sounds like he’s at least five feet away from you.

“No, no, wait!” Zenistsu cries. “It could be a trap! You know the legends about spirits waking up during festival season!” He gasps. “Or what if it’s a demon?”

“If it is, we’ll kill it!” Inosuke bellows. “What’s the big deal, you big baby? We’ve fought off demons before!”

“Rengoku came out here, so he can’t be far,” Tanjiro says. There is the sound of footsteps and a twig snapping. “Uh, Rengoku-sama?” The young man calls. “Is that you?”

You look over your shoulder at Rengoku, terrified. “Don’t move,” he whispers. He clears his throat though still deep inside of you. “Uh, yes, Tanjiro!” He calls, keeping his voice steady and level. “It’s me! Why are you guys out here? Enjoy the festival!”

“Well, we were just wondering where you went,” Tanjiro explains. “It had been a while since you went on that walk with Y/N. We thought you guys got spirited away or were in trouble.”

“No, not we,” Insokue says with a scoff. “You two babies thought they were in trouble! I only came because Zenitsu was too much of a scaredy cat to go with you!”

Zenistu makes a noise between a whine and a scoff, offended. “That’s not true!” He protests. ”Why do you gotta always poke fun at me? It’s a forest! Anything bad can happen!”

The two begin to argue while Tanjiro desperately tries to stop them. “Guys, guys,” Rengoku firmly says, silencing them. “I’m fine! I just followed Y/N out to take her to gather some flowers. We’ll be back soon, so just head back to the festival.”

Your pussy clenches around him as his hand sneaks down to rub your clit, making him bite back a moan. “Are you sure?” Tanjiro asks.

“Absolutely!” he calls, his heart hammering against his chest. “Go and enjoy the festivities! We’ll be back before the fireworks!” He hears the three whisper amongst each other before finally, Tanjiro announces that they are heading back. ”We’ll save you a seat,” he says before his and the others’ footsteps descend.

Once their footsteps fade, Rengoku’s body relaxes. “They’re gone,” he announces and sighs in relief. “Thank goodness. I’m sorry about that.” He gently strokes your back, hoping to ease your body out of its fight-or-flight state.

Shockingly, you are still wet and still horny, looking back at him with the sexiest eyes he’s ever seen. “Don’t be sorry, baby,” you purr. “It wasn’t your fault. Just cum with me.”

You begin to toss your ass back into him, your pussy swallowing him up. “Please fill me up,” you beg. “I need it so badly.”

Rengoku, helpless to deny you and needing release, wraps a hand around your neck and gently squeezes. The way your lips form an O is an erotic sight, indeed. “You’re such a little slut, you know that?” He growls. “Such a good little girl for me.”

With his other hand, he grabs your hip and pistons himself into you again and again, plunging his cock into the wet depths of your soft pussy and flicking your needy clit at the same time.

It doesn’t take long for that button inside of you to flicker on and Rengoku feels your pussy tighten around him, squeezing him tighter than a vice.

“I’m cumming!” You sob. “Ren, I’m cumming! I’m…I’m…”

You don’t get a chance to finish because your pussy is spasming around his cock and cumming on it, dripping cream down to his balls. Your little body spasming in his hands and your loud moans cause him to cum too, triggered by all of you.

A low yet loud groan leaves Rengoku’s mouth as he empties his balls inside of, rope after rope of cum escaping his cock and into your womb. He grips you to him, afraid that you’ll vanish and he’ll never be able to get this moment again.

“Shit!” He hisses, pressing his face into your soft, sweet-smelling hair as he goes through the motions of his orgasm. ”Take it,” he growls. “Take it all. It’s fucking yours.” You gasp at the onslaught of warmth and wetness, feeling overloaded with cum.

You are absolutely full of him.

After a few more shallow thrusts and a feeble grab of your breast, Rengoku presses a kiss to your forehead and gently pulls out of you. The sight of his nut dripping down your pussy and thighs is damn near too much.

Together, you both lie down in the flowers side by side, Rengoku’s big, muscular body curled into yours. Legs tangled, fingers stroking, and lips touching each others’. You lay in the sweet afterglow, only the stars witness to what just transpired.

For a while, you lie in comfortable silence. And then you speak. “That was amazing,” you sigh. “You were so good.” You press your hand and cheek to his chest, feeling and listening to his thumbing heart.

Rengoku feels pride and joy swell within him. “So were you.” He takes your hand and presses several kisses to them. Once again, he holds you close, not wanting to lose this peaceful moment. But alas, everything good must come to an end.

The only thing that makes him happy is that you will get many more moments like this now that he knows how you feel.

He sighs, lamenting. “I don’t want to leave, but we should probably head back.” You nod in agreement, sharing one last kiss before you separate and rise to your feet.

You get dressed and fix your hair to make sure neither of you look like you just fucked in the woods. Rengoku watches you wobble slightly. “Can you walk?” he asks, concerned. You nod though you keep leaning against one of the trees.

He tuts, stalking over to you. “That won’t do.”

In one swift motion, he scoops you up and carries you bridal style away from the clearing. “Rengoku, no!” you squeal in protest. “I’m fine! I-I can walk! Put me down!”

But he doesn’t listen, gripping you tighter. ”Just enjoy the ride, honey,” he chuckles. “We’ll be back in no time to see the fireworks.” He gives you a wink and his laugh echoes among the trees as you flush embarrassingly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

When you and Rengoku make it back to the festival, the fireworks have already begun. He puts you down and you find the gang among the crowd. Mitsuri greets you first, yelling among the boom of the fireworks. “There you two are!” she shouts. “We thought you got lost! C’mon, the fireworks started and I’ve got the best seats.”

She grabs your hand and drags you over to her seat on the grass with Tengen’s wives. Speaking of Tengen, he comes up to Rengoku’s side with some shaved blue moon ice, a smirk playing on his lips.

“That was some walk,” he comments. “Guess you got her before I could, huh?” He raises an eyebrow at his fellow slayer and friend.

“That’s right,” Rengoku confidently says, raising his chin and smiling. “I’m sorry to break it to you like this, Tengen.”

Tengen just keeps smirking, ever so cocky. “How flashy of you,” he chuckles. “I guess my plans for a fourth wife have been ruined.”

Rengoku must look horrified and absolutely murderous because Tengen nearly doubles over cracking up. “I’m kidding!” he laughs. “I just wanted to see your face!”

He pats Rengoku on the back and leans in. “But you may wanna break this lightly to my girls,” he whispers. “They were looking forward to a fifth in our little family.”

Sure enough, the sister wives are doting over you, talking about how pretty you look in your kimono. Tengen gives Rengoku a wink before walking over to join his wives on the grass.

Shaking off his words, Rengoku joins you on the grass shortly after and watches the colorful beams explode in the night sky. “Isn’t it so pretty?” you dreamily sigh.

He turns to you, watching red, green, and pink illuminate your face. He slides his hand over to yours and interlaces your fingers. “Yes,” he agrees. “It is.”

THE END.

#commission fill #black fanfic writer #smutty smut #demon slayer smut #sunshine boi aka rengoku #rengoku x reader #rengoku x black reader #chubby reader #black coded reader #my works #my fic shit #rengoku kyojuro

290 notes · View notes

bridenore · 2 months ago

Text

HD eight year fic recs : 50k+ words

Here are a few drarry eight year fic recs that are between 30k and 50k words. Posted in alphabetical order, as always.

You can access my rec lists for eight year fics that have less than 10k words here, between 10k and 20k here, between 20k and 30k here and between 30k and 50k here.

Arms Wide Open: Hogwarts by Sita_Z [28k]

Harry did not expect his Eighth Year to involve any more investigations of abandoned bathrooms. Nor did he expect to come across Draco Malfoy there, alone, bleeding and in late-stage labor. Arms Wide Open: Grimmauld Place by Sita_Z [36k] After leaving Hogwarts, Harry and Draco face an uncertain future, raising Scorpius and dealing with the wizarding world’s reaction to their situation. Sequel to Arms Wide Open: Hogwarts.

At Your Service by @faith2wood [95k]

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There’s only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

Azoth by @lol-zeitgeistic [88k]

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

Beholden by @faith2wood [123k]

Draco Malfoy might not be a killer, but it turns out he's an effective painkiller. If stopping pain was all Draco's touch did, things might not be so complicated, but either way Harry can't afford to be choosy.

The Changing Lights by lazywonderland [142k]

Harry returns for an eighth year following the end of the war and realises that although he's put his own animosity towards Malfoy aside, no one else seems to have done the same. When a hex leaves his oldest rival in the body of a female and ridicule doubles, Harry discovers that his hero complex is a difficult thing to fight.

Exceeds Eggspectations by Elle Gray (LGray) [61k]

Eighth year. Winter. Christmas has been and gone. Harry’s just been dumped and so has Malfoy. There’s a stupid fake baby assignment to be done, and what’s the harm in doing it together, really, when life is this shit already? This is not slow burn, this is a roman candle pointed at a pile of dry twigs that represent your heart.

Firebond by Oakstone730 / @i-didnt-wanna-do-it [94k]

Draco is forced to tutor Harry in potions. A slight problem occurs.

Golden Age by @lol-zeitgeistic [52k]

The Celtic druids once made a decision that kept magic in abundance in Britannia, but they couldn’t account for the technological advances Muggles would make centuries later. Now magic is dying on the isles, and this is not a dark lord that Harry can fight. OR: Harry Potter doesn’t save the world this time, but he does get a lot of hugs.

Graceless Heart by shushu_yaoi_lj / @orange-peony [132k]

Harry is lost and broken after the war. He has gone to countless funerals, broken up with Ginny, moved back into Grimmauld Place—which feels darker and dirtier than ever before despite how much he tries to fix it. He feels lonely and desperate, but he won’t ask for help, and he still can’t cry. When he agreed to help the Aurors at Malfoy Manor over the summer, he thought that he would be breaking dark curses. Harry never thought that he would actually spend his days sorting out dusty books with Draco Malfoy, or teaching him how to cook. Little by little, as they begin to navigate their life post-war, Harry and Draco become intimate…in more ways than Harry could have ever expected.

Helix by Saras_Girl [92k]

Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again. [2014 advent fic]

It’s No Great Mystery by @agentmoppet [57k]

Who on earth decided that bringing back the Yule Ball for their eighth year would be a good idea? It feels like the worst day of Harry’s life, watching everyone get glammed up like the war never happened, like the last Triwizard Tournament wasn’t such a colossal failure. And then it happens again. And again. And again.

Manticoria by @lol-zeitgeistic [70k]

In the dangerous days after Voldemort’s fall, Harry struggles to find a way to be with Draco—again. But as the magical world threatens to die all around them, it might be more difficult than he thought. Includes dying wards, dying beasts, and love struggling to live; sentient magic, wandlore, Founder lore, potion lore, and ward lore; and of course there is Zacharias Smith to ruin everything, as usual.

Mental by sara_holmes [156k]

Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thankyouverymuch. A miscast Legilimecy spell says otherwise.

My Little Berserker by @aelys-althea [105k]

Eighth year was supposed to be calm. Moderated. Peaceful, even. Draco returned to escape the chaos wrought upon his shambles of a life and Harry to flee the responsibility of a world that sees him as something greater than was truly possible. Hogwarts was a safe haven, right? At least it was until Hagrid comes up with the wonderful idea to introduce some additional members to the student body of the fluffier variety. Hagrid doesn’t do moderated - where’s the fun in that?

The Nightmare Club by Elle Gray [85k]

Hermione and Ron are going back to Hogwarts to do N.E.W.T.s, Ginny isn’t. Harry hasn’t decided, until he has, in front of the Wizengamot and now he’s responsible for Malfoy as well. A tale of enemies who learn to get along, get it wrong and get it on. Everything is purple, some things are on fire and no-one is sleeping properly. But don’t worry, there’s tea!

Not in the Hands of Boys by @fourth-rose [130k] *incomplete

Once the final battle is won, life must go on, although it can be even harder to master than death. Back at Hogwarts for his final year of school, Harry tries to cope with everything he's been through. As the world around him struggles for a way back to normality, he is forced to realise that in the long run, living takes a lot more courage than dying.

Objects of Desire by Azrael Geffen [400k+]

The dream team sign a magical contract promising to lose their virginities within the year, they soon fix on the objects of their desires, but will the bitterness left in the wake of the war prove too hurtful for love to exist?

Ocean of Storms by Bounding-Heart [113k]

The war is over and Harry has returned to help rebuild Hogwarts. He longs to move forwards, but the past refuses to let him go. The castle is full of ghosts: haunting nightmares, the deaths he couldn’t prevent, and the age-old rivalry that Draco Malfoy seems determined to maintain.

Owl Was Well by @fencer-x [66k]

Draco Malfoy is not an owl, really he isn’t. He simply assumes the shape of one on occasion when he wants to find a bit of privacy—a goal entirely thwarted because Harry Potter doesn’t understand you can’t just grab any old bird from the Owlery and force it to send your missives and deliver your packages.

The Promise of Summer by Omi_Ohmy [66k]

How was Harry supposed to know that coming back for eighth year would be so confusing? Everything is the same, and yet not the same. And nowhere is this more obvious than with Draco Malfoy. Harry finds himself once more watching and following Malfoy, trying to work him out. When they are drawn together to heal the castle, Harry doesn’t just find Malfoy - he also finds himself.

red and green are complimentary colours by ace_0fhearts [88k]

After the war Hermione manages to convince Harry to go back to Hogwarts for his eighth year. Expecting an uneventful year of classes and rooming with the other Gryffindor boys, he’s surprised when McGonagall tells him he’ll be sharing a room with Draco Malfoy. Now Harry has to get through a year of arguments and awkward silences. Or he would, if Malfoy would stop ignoring him and moping around the castle alone. Or: Draco and Harry fall in love through sleepless nights and late night quidditch games

Reparo by amalin [84k]

Voldemort’s final defeat does not mean Harry Potter’s troubles are over; far from it. In the aftermath of war, he returns to a Hogwarts that is fractured and divided, but this is no break that can be fixed with a spell. New owls, fading scars, surprising alliances—and along the way, the hardest task of all, to live with it.

Right Hand Red by @lqtraintracks [73k]

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.

The Silent World Within You by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [95k]

Harry only wanted Malfoy for one night, one birthday. It wasn’t meant to be anything more.

spins madly on by asofthaven [56k]

As part of his probation, Draco Malfoy returns to Hogwarts to complete his N.E.W.T.s. Gobstones, the political machinations of the Hogwarts student body, and one Harry James Potter captures Draco’s attention instead.

Things Worth Knowing by @femmequixotic and @noeeon [164k]

After the Battle, Harry thinks he’s left Hogwarts for good, but Minerva insists that all students return for an Eighth Year if they wish to sit for NEWTs in the spring, and Harry needs those NEWTs to go into the Aurors. Draco’s just grateful not to be in Azkaban. Or the Manor. He’s hoping he can steer clear of Potter this year and grapple with his own problems. Unfortunately for him, Potter appears to be one of those problems. And that’s not even addressing the fact that Potter’s got serious issues of his own, which Draco realises as he’s forced to share an Eighth Year dormitory room and several classes with the Gryffindor Git. If only they can make it through the year without killing each other, it should be all right, shouldn’t it?

Written on the Heart by who_la_hoop [113k]

Harry doesn’t mind that so many Slytherins from his year have returned to finish their NEWTs, really he doesn’t. It’s just – do they have to be so friendly? He’s not prejudiced, really he’s not. It’s just – they’ve got to be up to something, right? Unnerved by the attention he’s attracting from everyone – the Slytherins are the least of it, to be fair – and struggling with a raft of changes to Hogwarts itself, Harry wishes he could be happy that one constant remains: Draco Malfoy really fucking hates him. When he’s hit by an illegal love-spell though, Harry finds he has more to worry about than whether or not Blaise Zabini actually wants to be his friend. For if everyone affected has been blessed – or cursed, by the look on Malfoy’s face – with a magical tattoo revealing the name of their soulmate, what does it mean that Harry’s skin remains completely bare?

You’ve Got Owl Post by @slyth-princess [50k]

After discovering muggle romantic comedies during winter break, Pansy Parkinson and Luna Lovegood decide to launch an ambitious project called You’ve Got Owl Post which matches up students through an enchanted notebook so they can send letters to each other without knowing who is at the other end. It is an instant hit. Harry, without his friends knowing, is one of the first to join. And he rapidly finds a kindred soul on the other side of the pages. In real life, however, he is once again plagued by Draco Malfoy. After fighting in class, McGonagall has had enough. So, as punishment and a lesson, she assigns them the running of that years dueling club. Everyone, including Harry and Draco, assumes it will be a disaster. However, sometimes the people you think you know the best are the ones who can surprise you the most. A story of letters, bets, friendship, love, forgiveness, and discovering who you really are.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

#my recs #drarry #drarry recs #theme rec

122 notes · View notes

2tcs · 6 months ago

Text

Danny’s Journal or A Countdown to the Beginning

Summary: A look into the year leading up to the accident from the perspective of a forgotten journal.

February 9, 2002

Dear journal. Mom and Dad said they had a surprise for me and Jazz when we get home from school. Please God don't let it be another ghost gun or something. My hair is still singed from the last one.

Update. It was, in fact, a gun. Jazz now has a mild burn on her arm and is screaming how they need therapy. Not disagreeing but I don't think it's going to happen.

February 12, 2002

Dear journal. Happy birthday. A year ago Jazz gave you to me for my birthday. How my parents haven't accidentally destroyed you I don't know.

Me Tucker, Sam, and Jazz went out to eat for my birthday. Sam even had her family driver take us a town over to try that new restaurant. Well, that's what their excuse was. I think they were trying to get me out of the house for a little bit since Mom and Dad are going on a rampage through the house disassembling all the appliances. It's 10 pm and I can still hear noise coming from the basement.

March 26, 2002

I have the best idea for an April Fools prank. It involves chez whiz and glitter.

April 1, 2002

The prank worked like a charm. The jocks are going to smell like cheese for weeks. And they ain't ever getting the glitter out.

On the downside. Dash broke my arm and Mom and Dad put a “Fenton Anti-ghost Cast” on me. It kinda glows and makes my arm feel weird.

April 23, 2002

Sam’s birthday party was a glorious disaster this year. Her mom decided to do a princess-themed party. We have been preparing for this day since Sam found one of her mom’s work journals. We managed to sneak paint and glitter bombs into the venue before anyone got there. We even managed to get one on each of the chandeliers. It was awesome. Everyone got covered in black paint and red glitter.

What we didn’t account for was Grandma Ida hiring professional snake handlers to bring in a bunch of snakes for Sam. The snakes were non-venomous and luckily were all caught after one of the rich people bumped into the table that the snake cage was on. And the paint was non-toxic so it was easy to clean off the snakes too without them getting sick. Still kinda feel bad that the snakes got caught in the crossfire though.

May 20, 2002

🎵Schools out for the summer!🎵 Lol this is going to be so exciting. Our last summer as middle schoolers. Nothing but the big leagues after this!

June 13, 2002

Dad wants to go camping for Father's Day so we're going to head out tomorrow morning. Think I heard them mention Lake Arrowhead. That'll be cool. Haven't fished there before.

June 15, 2002

I don't know how but we're in Gotham. Apparently, there's some stupid ghost conversation going on so we're going to be stuck here for the next week. On the pulse side though I found a really cool cafe not too far from the hotel. And they don’t seem to care if you just hang out as long as their not busy and you buy something. Me and Jazz will probably be spending a lot of time here or at their library. It’s huge and has an entire section of space!

June 16, 2002

Turns out I'm allergic to something called Blood Blossoms. Mom and Dad ended up having some guy try to cleanse me of “the evil spook” after I accidentally brushed up against the flowers he had on his table. Jazz had to convince them to get me to the hospital. Luckily one of the guys walking around had an epi pen. So that helped. Still sucks and now I'm stuck at the hotel while Jazz frets like a mother hen. I don't think she's even realized that she has a rash on her hand from when she threw the flowers away from me.

June 19, 2002

So… Batman is real… wtf? He apparently has some questions for Mom and Dad but they haven't come back yet. He apologized to me and Jazz for waking us up and gave us suckers? Which. Weird. And Jazz threw them away when he left because “stranger danger is still a thing even if they are a hero”. RIP little Root Beer flavored DumDum. You will be missed.

And on the other hand, Robin was pretty cool. He's snarky and brave and hilarious and he is just so cool. 10/10 New favorite Robin. He even gave me a book recommendation for the report I'm supposed to turn in at the start of freshman year.

June 22, 2002

We were supposed to leave Gotham today. We were supposed to finally head to one of the lakes on the way home to do some camping and fishing. We were supposed to have a relaxing time. So please journal. Can you tell me why the giant wannabe scaly just threw the GAV? Now we are going to be stuck in this stupid city for another week while Mom and Dad fix it.

June 24, 2002

I made a new friend! Do you remember that cafe I talked about a few days ago? Well, I met a guy there. His name is Jason. He’s an absolute lit nerd but is way cool. The guy’s got muscles underneath his school uniform too. The guy looks like he could snap me like a twig yet isn’t at all like Dash. Hopefully, we can keep in contact after we head back to Amity. For now, we are planning on meeting up at the cafe tomorrow with our favorite books. I found “Star Stories”at the library so I’m bringing it with me. I don’t know if he likes stars but I hope he likes some of the stories about them.

July 9, 2002

Finally back at home. Dad had smuggled fireworks into the GAV (how they didn’t explode when KC threw it in Gotham idk) so we spent the 4th of July shooting them off at the lake. We ended up going to Lake Erie for the camping trip because Mom heard something at the convention about a ghost hanging out around there. Didn’t see any ghosts but the fishing was good. I even caught a bass the size of my head! All around it was really fun! Oh and the stars were so clear! The Summer Triangle was so clear you could point out Vega, Deneb, and Altair! It was so cool! Did you know that Vega is in the Lyra constellation? Or Deneb is in the Cygnus Constellation. And Altair is a part of the Aquila constellation!

Maybe I should ask if Mom and Dad could get me another journal for charting the stars. I’ll need the practice if I want to become an astronaut.

July 29, 2002

It’s a good thing that I got two of everything when me, Sam, and Tucker went shopping for school supplies. I got a lot of new space-themed stuff but the moment I got home Dad insisted on ghost-proofing my new backpack… It melted. I don’t even know how he managed to melt a canvas bag. It didn’t even catch fire first. Just started melting the moment Dad started spraying his new “Fenten Ecto-Rejecto Spray” on it. Wtf Dad.

On the plus side, Sam found a new coffin backpack and Tucker was able to get a new bag that had a pouch that he can put the walkman he got yesterday for his birthday. He is so hyped about it.

August 6, 2002

School starts next week and I am so hyped. Finally going to be a high schooler. Cool Kids Club here we go!

August 15, 2002

Kill me now. May the Gods strike me down and end my suffering. May the Faits find me lacking and cut my string. May the Crone tear me from the tapestry, the mother rejects my thread from the loom and the maiden take the wool of my youth and set it aside.

Sam has just informed me that that isn’t quite what the Mother, Maiden, and Crone do but whatever. Just know that everything sucks because apparently someone called the house phone and told Mom and Dad that there was a ghost in the school. The A-listers are blaming me for ruining their high school debut.

August 30, 2002

Mom and Dad have started making more noise in the lab than normal. It’s gotten to the point that Jazz has been spending more time at the library to study. Speaking of Jazz, she has been obsessing over self-help and psychology books lately. I mean. Jazz has always talked up therapy but now she’s kinda getting snooty about it. Sam suggested we start hanging out at that gazebo thingy at the park so we can get our work done on the nicer days. We’ll have to hang at Tucker's place though on the rainy days. Sam’s parents have decided that it’s time to put their foot down and get Sam to “socialize with your actual peers Sammy-kins so that you can make better connections and start networking” or whatever. So basically Sam’s mom doesn’t want her to be associated with us plebs I guess.

September 8, 2002

Mom and Dad repurposed the fridge so they could put samples in it. Apparently, the one in the lab broke. The green stuff in the tubes kinda creeps me out. Jazz is yelling at them about it. I kinda agree. Cross-contamination anyone? Think I’m gonna eat out at Nasty more often.

September 28, 2002

Either I’m going crazy or the leftover chicken and noodle soup in the fridge was moving. Like the noodles were wiggling around like worms or something. Jazz ordered pizza.

October 5, 2002

There are new wires in the house now and they glow? Mom said that they had some sort of breakthrough and are using the samples that they have to coat some of the tech in the house to “ecto-proof” it. Apparently, the ectoplasm doesn’t like electronics so they weren’t really able to mix it with tech too well. Some of Mom’s blueprints look like Star Wars blasters. Dad’s are less impressive.

October 29, 2002

Mom and Dad have locked me and Jazz in our rooms because of the “Ghost Menaces”. Me and Jazz have both taped warning signs on our windows so some brave trick-or-treaters don’t accidentally get hurt.

November 1, 2002

The signs worked but I saw Mom and Dad taking off in the GAV around midnight. Whatever. Me and Tucker did manage to reach a new level in DOOM last night so that was cool. And it’s World Vegan Day today so Sam is going to take us out to eat at a vegan place for dinner. I have no clue what Tucker’s going to eat. Well probably get it to-go so he can get something.

I found out where Mom and Dad went last night. The cops showed up and gave Mom and Dad a ticket for destroying a part of the park's water fixture. Someone had organised a haunted forest thing in the park and my parents went absolute ape.

November 2, 2002

Who told Mom and Dad about Dia de Los Muertos? Or that there was a little remembrance celebration/party thing going on today because of it? I’ve decided to make deviled eggs in protest of their chaos and have also bought candy skulls to eat.

November 18, 2002

Apparently, there is an Occult Day(?) and Sam insists we spend the day researching cults. Tucker has found a tech cult online that says there is “Techno Magic” and he is now trying to learn it. Sam has found a book of curses and has been giggling since she found it. Sam giggling is terrifying. I am concerned.

November 28, 2002

The turkey came to life and attacked us. Mom and Dad are blaming ghosts but me and Jazz agree that this is totally their fault for putting the stupid ecto in the fridge. At least the rest of the food was edible. I mean. It had a kinda glowing but I haven’t gotten sick yet. So yay?

November 29, 2002

So the food wasn’t good and I ended up getting sick this morning. fml Jazz is mad that I ate some of it. I am fully aware of what food safety is Jazz. But I was hungry and after the turkey, I was just tired and hangry. I had no clue you had ordered pizza so :p

December 5, 2002

On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me! Nothing because my family is insane. Mom and Dad are already starting their yearly Santa argument. Sam and Tuck are both out of town to visit family for the holidays, Jazz is avoiding the house because it’s “disruptive to my mental development” and I’m grounded for yelling at Dad when he burst into my room and accidentally made my little Rover fall off the shelf and brake.

December 9, 2002

Mom and Dad’s insanity is ramping up. They almost never leave the lab now and whenever I try to bring food down to them they either just mumble and keep working or start arguing again. The whole in the wall has a frame now too.

December 24, 2002

I made a mistake when I brought Mom and Dad their dinner today. In my defense, I was just tired of them yelling about Santa. So I asked why they had hazmat suits but me and Jazz didn’t if ecto was so dangerous. Because if it’s that dangerous then the fact we have ecto in the fridge means that we should all have suits. Jazz is furious with me cause now our parents are making us try on our new suits tomorrow. I am terrified of whatever monstrosity they create no matter how “fashionable” Dad claims they will be.

December 25, 2002

It’s worse than I thought. Mine’s white.

January 15, 2003

Gods, I hate this. I’ve been sick for the past week and Jazz says we’re almost out of soup. I keep going back and forth between being hungry and puking up whatever Jazz feeds me. Mom says that she has some tea that may help but when Dad brought it up it tasted funny. It did make me feel a little better but it just had a really weird taste. Dad said it’s just because I’m sick so everything tastes funny right now.

January 19, 2003

Is it weird that I want to lick the ecto in the fridge? I’m pretty sure it is but it still kinda looks lickable to me. Like how you know that D batteries are not edible but almost everyone has licked one at some point?

Jazz just gave me a lecture about putting things in my mouth that I shouldn’t… Again…

January 27, 2003

Jazz scared me this morning. I walked into the kitchen this morning and just saw glowing eyes. Like a cat’s eyes in the dark. Jazz thinks I’m hallucinating from lack of sleep because of the all-nighter I pulled with Tuck trying to pass the next level on DOOM but I swear that her eyes were glowing.

February 9, 2003

I’m starting to worry. I know they're obsessed with their dumb portal but they haven’t eaten in 2 days. Jazz is planning on going down there and persuading (yelling at them) them to eat if they don’t come up for dinner tonight.

February 12, 2003

Happy Birthday to me. I am now 14 years old. Mom and Dad forgot it was my birthday again. They ran into the kitchen this morning because they completed their portal. They even dragged me and Jazz down into the lab to see them turn it on before we went to school. It didn’t work and now Mom and Dad are going to take a drive around town to clear their heads. They probably won’t be back until dinner time. Sam and Tucker are coming over after school though so at least it will be quiet while they are over. And I think Jazz is going to make a cake if the box of mix I saw her trying to hide from me yesterday is any indication.

#danny phantom #a touch of #dpxdc #journal #oneshot

194 notes · View notes

jenny-in-a-jar · 5 months ago

Text

🖤💙 4 days until my Surgery 💙🖤

(Picture taken Dec 9th, 2023)

I'm very very excited for my surgery (it's my second gender affirming surgery but this one is more significant to me since it'll be top and bottom surgery) and I'm obviously counting the days until it and I thought some people might be interested in my trans journey 🏳️‍⚧️ So see part 7 below the cut.

Part 1 here

As the summer was ending, I got really lucky! A lesbian hairstylist (who helped organize the drag show I went in the last update) gave my name to this sales lady who sold accounting work to like companies and she needed help with researching CEO and CFO types. And she paid me out of pocket and honestly it was pretty easy internet research using Google. I felt like a little rat scurrying across the Internet 🐀 So, thank you lesbians 🙏🙏

(Picture taken Nov 6th, 2022)

Apparently I really impressed her so she got me hired full time as a sales admin for her company (I wouldn't have gotten with my lack of a college degree without her) and I've had that job since! And a lot of my transition wouldn't be possible without the pay and benefits of this job. Also this is my first job where I get gendered correctly and I'm slowly getting less anxious about going to the bathroom at work 🥰

She honestly mom'd up on me and bought me a bunch of new business casual clothes for the job. And here's an example of one of my new work outfits 😁

(Picture taken Nov 14, 2022)

Bc of the new job I was able to afford a lot more things for transitioning! Like voice training. I remember when I first cracked I tried to just teach myself using videos but I wasn't good at it 😅 Also a friend during the summer of 2022 helped me and I did make some progress with her help. But, I started making a lot more progress once I started seeing a speech therapist. But, there was a barrier since I could tell she hadn't worked too much with trans people. I went to a speech therapist bc it was covered by my insurance but she moved and then I couldn't find anyone for insurance covered speech therapy. So, I eventually just paid for lessons Your Lessons Now. And, honestly it's going a lot better! It's really nice to be able to talk about my frustrations with voice training with another transfem. The biggest thing I'm learning from here is how to break the bad habit of pitching up my voice by squeezing my vocal chords.

(Picture taken Sept 8th, 2023)

I had also switched to injections and I highly recommend it! A friend even made my first two vials into earrings 🔥

I also got a lot lazier with makeup 😅 I do eyeliner wings, mascara, and blush for when I go into the office. Which for a bunch of accountants means I do about as much makeup that is normal for the women in the office 🤷‍♀️

(Pictures taken October 31st and December 2nd of 2022)

These were two notable exceptions. I really love the makeup I did for the Halloween of 2022 bc I decided to go as a ghost-type trainer. And the one on the right is when I learned how to use concealer to cover my 'raccoon eyes' as my dad liked to call them 🦝

Also this would be a good time to mention something I probably should've mentioned earlier 😅 I never learned how to use foundation. I know it's easy but I have a weird mental block around it 🤷‍♀️ But, in the summer of 2021 I started doing twice daily skincare routine for my face. Which took me from a very acne heavy face to people being surprised I'm not wearing foundation. Also the routine is really nice. Would recommend to those who want to get rid of their acne (send an ask if you want to know specifics).

(Picture taken Aug 20, 2023)

Romance update since I've been doing that lol: Well, things ended with all the girlfriends I had so I am down to 1 partner. And I got caught in a romance scam for a few months 😭 However, I can't really complain because I got engaged!!! It was so sweet in cute. My partner and I had this date the night before Valentine's Day under a statue outside of a local art museum. We read sapphic poetry by candle light and then they popped the question 🥰🥰

But, I say another big part of this era was I made a lot more local trans friends. Went to a good amount of house parties which would've surprised pre-transition me! And I really love my community of queer people I've been building 🥺🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️💕

(Picture taken July 21st, 2023)

Oh yeah!! I also started laser hair removal at the beginning of 2021 as well. Which was before this era but time is a lie. But the new job definitely made it easier to afford.

The biggest step for my transition was getting my surgeries set up!! And my FFS (facial feminization surgery) marks the end of this era. Below was the last picture I took before my FFS.

(Picture taken Feb 17th, 2024)

So, in my next update, I'll be showing my post-op pictures once most of the swelling went down. See you tomorrow!! 😁✌️

Next Part Here

#trans journey #trans #girlslikeus #ok to rb #transfem #tranzjen pics #transgender

138 notes · View notes

loveephia · 2 years ago

Text

bashful moments you had with them. (suna, osamu, kenma, iwaizumi, semi, kuroo, sakusa, ushijima.) 100 followers special!

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, use of cute petnames, reader has glasses in kuroo's, reader is afraid of loud noises in ushijima's.

⚠ warning/s: accidentally hurting yourself in osamu's.

note: i didn't expect my account to grow this much with all the cheesy and lame headcanons i make of the boys. 😭 thank you, sososo much for 100 followers because that's a loTTA people HAHA. NERVOUS SWEATS. anyway, sTAY HYDRATED AND ENJOY READING!!!

SUNA RINTARŌ

he hands you his favorite chuupet flavor, lemon, and watches as you struggle to tear it open. with minimal effort (and the fact that he's so used to opening these things a million times already), he tears it open using the fang of his teeth and hands it over to you. you quietly thank suna and eat your chuupet with cherry red cheeks. how cute.

OSAMU MIYA

he watches as you cut up the chives into uneven bits, and then comes a moment where you happen to slice a small part of your finger. you wince in pain, and osamu is quick to come to your aid. "you okay, darlin'?" he asks with care in his tone as you nod. you wash your hands with soap and water, and he comes back with triple antibiotic ointment and a bandaid (it had a bunny design on it).

KENMA KOZUME

you were trying to beat the final boss in the game you really liked, but it seemed almost impossible. kenma sees this and asks if he can give it a go. you say yes and watch as he swiftly plays through the entire level. when he finishes, you thank him with a big hug. he pouts, "i wanted a kiss, y/n."

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

it was the school festival, and the hallways were busy with students stressed left and right. you, in the midst of everything, get pushed around quite a lot. iwaizumi forcefully (not meaning for it to be harsh) pulls you aside to a safer part of the hallway, and you thank him. his sleeves were rolled up so you could see his biceps.. wow.

SEMI EITA

you kept looking over at the boy who shared your school's uniform. he sat next to you on the train. he had earbuds in, and you couldn't help but be curious as to what he was listening to. deciding that semi has had enough of your sneaky glances, he hands you one of his earbuds.

KUROO TETSURŌ

you were falling in and out of sleep while he tutored you. "just for five minutes.." you told yourself as you rested your head on the desk. kuroo sees you slowly drifting off to dreamland and decides to set aside your glasses for when you wake up later.

SAKUSA KIYOOMI

from the crowd's constant chatter, you couldn't hear what sakusa was trying to tell you, no matter how loud he tried to speak. soon, having enough, he pulled his mask down and whispered what he wanted to say in your ear. even then, you still couldn't hear him. (lol)

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

you both were at the summer festival, the fireworks being as loud and abrupt as you remember. your palms weren't enough to drown out the noise. it was starting to bother you, so much so that you contemplated on leaving. ushijima then places his warm hands over yours in an attempt to drown out the now muffled fireworks.

2K notes · View notes

angeamant · 11 days ago

Text

my disappearance ♡

hiii this is cynthia most commonly known as gentlehue/jgracie/irlangelics <3 i wasnt gonna make a post like this for reasons i'll go thru under the cut but after having three of you reach out to me on pinterest i thought it'd be unfair to leave everyone in the dark 💗 tagging @luvusrry @findmeonvenus / @daystarpoet and @bloodwrittenletters thank u for checking up on me lovelies xx

okay so the main reason i deactivated yesterday was because i realised being on here was negatively impacting my productivity LOL as you all probably know (because i never shut up about it) im in my second to last year of high school and everything i do now and next year is what has the largest impact on what uni i get into which then has a pretty big impact on where i end up in the future basically LMAO 😭 my life is so busy these days between doing the whole ib itself which im still getting used to since the british system is so structured and tells you exactly what to do in comparison to ib where a lot of it is you doing your own thing & prepping for uni by researching diff courses and the lnat which is an exam i'll have to sit in order to apply to study law & also getting back into all my extracurricular/picking up new ones which is another thing i have to get used to since im SUCH an academically oriented person & a BUNCHHH of other things i wont be getting into rn 😭 and so i cannot afford to be lounging around in any way whatsoever right now!! this is the socmed app i spend the most time on and i tend to tell myself its ok cause im not replying to notifs im just scrolling which is so silly LOL but i need to eliminate that from my life soooo i left

a mini second reason why i left is smth thats gonna be rly hard for me to explain here & im pretty sure probs has smth to do w my ocd (another thing i dont rly like to talk ab that much so idk how many of u know this) but i have this thing where if something negatively impacts me or like if i have a negative association w it it becomes "imperfect" and i acc cannot have it around me like it physically disgusts me and i cant function or think or anything 😭 and thats what was happening w my tumblr account because of how it caused me soooo much procrastination and so little work done 😣 soz if this doesnt make any sense or if its weird but its smth ive had for years now and am slowly working on 😭 my perfectionism is so horrible too and tumblr makes it worse cause im always overthinking what my feed looks like 😫 like i cant have too many talking posts or too many asks or too many reblogs and im always doing them in a way that balances it out in my head and i spiral so bad over it 🙁

ANOTHER reason (wow lots of reasons) is cause ive begun to enjoy my real life so so much these days and dont want to be distracted by being online 😭 i love my friend group i love sixth form i love having a crush i love it all! a lot of my friends r graduating this year as well and so i probs wont be seeing them as often afterwards cause obvs theyre not all applying to unis in our city let alone our country !!! i dont wanna take this year for granted at ALL cause i'll so regret it if i do :(

the second thing im addressing is why i left w out saying anything LOL basically i knew if i posted smth and said my goodbyes i wouldn't commit to it at all 😭 and i need to seriously be disciplined w myself these days if i wanna be rich and traveling the world in 10 years 🫡

i dont know if i'll ever come back but im so so happy i got to know u all whether u knew me from jgracie or discovered me later on after i abandoned her im so glad i got to call u my lovely friends :) i carry a piece of you all wherever i go ♡ you know you'll always know me! i wont deactivate this account but i wont be active on it either unless i decide to fully come back, but if u send me an ask within this week i'll answer it xx

for those of you who are worried about my fics on jgracie, i made a backup account back in the summer and everything ive ever written is reblogged over there :) @cynarchives

#love yewwwww

47 notes · View notes

allwaswell16 · 5 months ago

Text

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in May 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #62 | ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis/Harry -

🍃 Ocean Wave Blues by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(M, 49k, pirates) After the gruesome death of his Alpha, Harry takes over as the Captain of the Rose Arrow. Trying his best to uphold her reputation as being the most dreadful pirate ship to sail the Seven Seas.

🍃 and so I have to say (before I go) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 27k, mystery) Sometimes falling in love is taking a leap of faith, jumping into the unknown with your eyes closed, hoping someone will be there to catch you. Sometimes falling in love is seeing the person in front of you, all their flaws and imperfections, and taking that leap nonetheless.

🍃 Room For One More Troubled Soul by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey

(M, 25k, supernatural elements) Louis Tomlinson is the chief medical examiner of the Centre for the Law Enforcement of Supernatural Beings - more commonly referred to as simply "The Centre".

🍃 High heels on, 'm feeling alive by thebreadvan / @thebreadvansstuff

(M, 14k, uni) Harry damages a car when drunkenly stumbling home after a fun night out with his friends. Feeling horribly guilty, he tries to find the owner and make it up to him.

🍃 oh so familiar by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 13k, witch Harry/vampire Louis) A story of misguided enemies to lovers brought together by a stubborn orange tabby.

🍃 I Dig Your Cinema by @silverstuff50

(E, 12k, exes) It wasn’t that Louis didn’t want to see Harry’s latest film; it was a tragically pathetic fact that Louis had watched every single show and film, every interview, every red carpet that Harry had done since his ex-boyfriend had decided to leave Uni in the second year and pursue an acting career.

🍃 Haze on the horizon by @lunarheslwt

(E, 6k, established relationship) Louis finds himself unexpectedly going into soft heat. Which would’ve been fine, except he is hundreds of miles away from his alpha, Harry, and he needs him. They make it work.

🍃 You're Already Home by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 5k, magical realism) It's Christmas Eve and Harry's life is normal. Then he finds someone's barred the door to his favourite hiding spot -- the old groundskeeper's cottage -- and suddenly Harry's life isn't normal anymore.

🍃 just a couple of my cravings by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(G, 3k, crush) Summer's just around the corner and Louis' battling his addictions... Cigarettes and Harry Styles.

🍃 I'm not that other guy by @jaerie

(E, 3k, omegaverse) Harry has just come back from maternity leave when he unexpectedly goes into heat. He runs into a coworker on his way out.

🍃 Change of Plans by @haztobegood

(G, 2k, omegaverse) Harry and Louis plan to visit their families over Christmas. Sometimes, plans don't work out.

🍃 Into the Woods by @kingsofeverything

(E, 2k, tree adjacent porn lol) Whenever he hikes, Harry keeps an eye out for trees with knots and scars that resemble buttholes. What started as fodder for his silly little Instagram account has become his favorite way to masturbate.

🍃 Lights Are So Bright by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(G, 2k, famous/famous) Newly first-string quarterback Louis Tomlinson mentions enough times in interviews that he's a fan of mega-famous popstar Harry Styles that people start to notice. At least one person does...

🍃 mosquito bites and cheap beer by @juliusschmidt

(M, 2k, exes-ish) Harry’s careful not to look at Louis as he plays. At least, he starts out that way. Part 2 of Cabin on the Bluff

🍃 Different Than You Do by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry

(T, 2k, love confession) Louis and Harry have been friends for a little over four years. Louis has been in love with Harry for most of those years, even if he didn’t want to admit it at first. What happens when he impulsively decides to tell him?

🍃 On Love's Doorstep by @hellolovers13

(T, 1k, neighbors) Harry Styles: a day in the life...Stuck in a dress, Abandoned by his best friend, Date with hot neighbour. All in all, not the worst day ever

🍃 My heart's in overdrive, and you're behind the steering wheel by @louisthiccsexyglitteryass

(E, 1k, uni) Being late to class means Harry and Louis have to pose together for figure drawings. That being said, the hate each other, but maybe they don't?

🍃 Expresso by @reallynotmemoi

(NR, 880 words, uni) Louis falls in love at first sight with a boy from his Tuesday lectures, and proceeds to make a fool out of himself in front of said boy. But maybe not all is lost…

- Rare Pairs -

🍃 better latte than never by @disgruntledkittenface

(M, 1k, Zayn/Harry) Harry was looking forward to the coffee cart at work. Until the subject of the previous night's fantasies lined up next to him.

🍃 No Constraints by @lululawrence

(NR, 863 words, Louis/Greg James) Louis is really not understanding this particular section of his Vector Calculus course, and his tutor doesn't seem to get what Louis is having a hard time with. Until he does.

#28th appreciation #ficrec #1dficvillage #hljournal #hlcreators #1dsquad

106 notes · View notes

thankyouforthememoriesworld · 3 months ago

Note

So I (🔎) decided to dig more into 2016 because I had plenty of evidence for overlap but also didn't lol. Note this was Azzi's first year with Fairfax Stars and Paige played for North Tartan. Long story short, there was overlap but they were in different divisions. Paige played on NT 8th team the summer before her 9th. Azzi was apparently playing on a 10th grade team the summer before her 8th grade. But they were indeed in the same locations.

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

North Tartan Summer Jam - June 2016 (No Overlap I can tell)

A fun little quoted tweet from North Tartan account in 2016 featuring Fairfax Stars and Azzi Fudd lol "They are legit"

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/744032001620082690

Fairfax Stars 15U displays 3 future BCS players. Malu Tshitenge 6-4 C 2019 Elizabeth Martino 5-10 G 2020 & 2021 Azzi Fudd 5-10 G 2021.

The same guy tweeted on the same day:

https://x.com/brethoops/status/744011067588653057

North Tartan Starks 2020 team features Trifecta Paige Bueckers 5-10 G Mallory Brake 6-0 F & MacKenzie Kramer 5-7 PG. 3 future talents.

Now looking at the schedule for Summer Jam 2016, Azzi's Fairfax 15U did play North Tartan 10th EYBL but Paige actually wasn't on this team yet and played on the 8th NT team. Hence why they never played.

Tournament Schedule:

https://tourneymachine.com/Public/Results/Division.aspx?IDTournament=h201510192243367598877fa9d1c264f&IDDivision=h20160609131643192b6faa6c1558d4b

Azzi played several levels up while Paige did not participate in this tournament it seems (it only included North Tartan 9th and up). Now if you are wondering why Paige didn't play levels up I refer you to this tweet years later from her coach: https://x.com/22TTStarksMom/status/1151503192166948864

AAU Super Showcase - July 2016 in Atlanta (Overlap)

Then, Azzi had this tweet from July 2 2016: https://x.com/azzi_35/status/749378901768536065

AAU Sup Showcase Sched Wed 7/6 3:00pm vs. North Tartan - ct. 7

They were both at the super showcase but again, same deal - different divisions. https://image.aausports.org/dnn/girlsbasketball/2016/supershowcase/9-11SSTEAMS.pdf

They ended up advancing but losing to North Tartan (not Paige's team).

https://x.com/FairfaxStars/status/751563695000543232

Paige's team won the super showcase for 9th grade

https://x.com/22TTStarksMom/status/753615080315613184

Battle of the Boro 2016 in Nashville (Overlap)

Paige was part of the Freshman Division and won:

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/753287011583332352

And seemingly, it seems North Tartan on all levels won championships:

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/753331171023609856

Her team was undefeated in July thus far

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/753287923965976576

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/753285630654906368

Azzi was part of the Sophomore Division as part of the all tournament team:

https://x.com/FairfaxStars/status/754125955795419136

https://nyghoopsreport.com/news/battle-in-the-boro-all-tournament-team

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

On a different note - you can pull some scouting comments for Azzi's game since she was in middle school: https://nyghoopsreport.com/search?query=Azzi%20Fudd

Also the North Tartan twitter congratulating Azzi's team in 2017 and 2018 which I found endearing.

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/876517915373309953

https://x.com/NorthTartan/status/1008389932413603841

I particularly enjoy "standing room only" for their match up in 2018: https://x.com/preferredscout/status/1008061107330789376

Last random thing I found - here's an incredibly old interview of Paige, my guess is from 2017 just from the headband

https://x.com/MrCmonNow/status/1167555153169268736

I don't know what to say other than bravo. Phenomenons from a young age ✨.

Bonus: Baby P with her baby voice 👶🏻

#don't really have photos of 2016 #azzi fudd #paige bueckers

53 notes · View notes

lovebaela · 7 months ago

Text

THE DRAGON OF THE NORTH

Chapter 3: Beginning of War

prev | masterlist | next

Pairing: °❆⋆Bran Stark x Targaryen OC .ೃ࿔*:･

CW: fem!oc, mostly fluff, and mentions of murder.꙳·❅°*˖

Rating: Mature audiences - The mature moments will happen later on. In the beginning, it will mostly just be cute fluff.⋆⁺₊❅.

(a/n) helloooo, sooo I recently decided to make a Wattpad account and I’ll also be posting the story on there hehe. So if you don’t like all of the cutesy symbols and the aesthetic on here, you can also read the story on Wattpad without all that stuff :) also I’m making minor changes to the previous chapters so uhhh don’t mind me lol

One night, Rhaella and Lady Stark were with Bran, by his side. It's been a month since she woke up.

Now, they had to wait for Bran's turn to awaken.

He's not dead, I know it, she always told herself.

Rhaella read aloud a book about the history of Winterfell as Lady Stark was making a protective craft. She said that only a mother could make one.

Robb decided to stay to look after his mother. She never once left Bran's side. To the point where Rickon was following Robb around. Robb walked in complaining about it, until he noticed something wrong outside.

"Is there something wrong?" Rhaella asked.

"Both of you stay in here," he said. He quickly ran out of the chamber, leaving them confused. They both rose up from their chairs to look out the window. There was a lot of commotion going on out there. The door opened, making them turn around swiftly. A man they've never seen before.

"You're not supposed to be here," the man said.

"None of you are supposed to be here." They both looked at each other wondering what he meant.

He turned to Bran, "it's mercy for him, really." He drew out his dagger.

"NO!" They both yelled.

Lady Stark ran to the man, preventing him from getting any closer to her son as Rhaella jumped on the bed, throwing herself on Bran. She grabbed the blade, squeezing it so hard that her hands were bleeding.

Rhaella, not knowing what to do, could only think to herself. She didn't know what came over her to use herself as a shield. In truth, they haven't known each other for that long, but he was the closest thing to family, they all were. No, this won't be the day he dies. It can't be. I won't let him, even if it kills me! That led herself to ask the question, would he have done the same for me?

The man threw her off of him and made his way to the bed.

"No!" Rhaella shouted. "Leave us alone!"

Before the man could stab her, Bran's dire wolf bolted in the room, quickly biting at the man's hand. They watched in awe and horror as the wolf dug its teeth into his neck, killing him instantly.

"Thank you," Rhaella whispered to the wolf. He let out a little whine and laid down. At that moment, they knew Bran would be protected, especially now that Summer was huge.

The next day, Rhaella showed Lady Stark where they both fell. They entered inside and went to the top floor. There wasn't really anything in the room. Just a lot of moss, vines, and leaves growing in there. "I found something," Lady Stark said. She showed Rhaella a long strand of golden, blonde hair. Rhaella gasped, remembering the day the king arrived and the feast. The Queen. Her hair was that color. But why would she be in here? And who was she with? "We have to tell Robb," Rhaella said.

They called for a meeting with Robb, Theon, Maester Luwin, and Ser Rodrick in the godswood.

"Pushed?" Robb asked them. "Are you certain?"

"Bran never falls." Theon added.

"We found a strand of blonde hair in that tower," Lady Stark said. "Bran must of saw something he wasn't supposed to see."

"Which led him to get pushed." Luwin said, putting the pieces together.

"What should we do my lady?" Ser Rodrick asked.

"I'll ride to king's landing," she replied. "It had to have been the Lannisters. I must tell Ned."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" The maester asked her. She gave a nod.

"They think they can just hurt the people I love and get away with it?" Robb asked. "And then send an assassin? They will pay for this."

That made Rhaella blush. He loves me!

Lady Stark turned to Rhaella, "I need you to stay by Bran's side. To watch over him while I'm gone.

He's lucky to have a friend like you. I know this is scary, but I need you to stay strong for me." She gave her a kiss on her forehead.

"Yes, my lady," Rhaella said determinedly. "I will."

After she left Winterfell with Ser Rodrick, Rhaella did exactly what she asked her to do. She never left Bran's side. She was very concerned for Bran's health. Since he was in a coma, he couldn't eat properly, only honey and water. His body was growing more frail by the day. Nearly becoming just bones and skin. Rhaella prayed every single day for Bran to wake up, hoping one day any gods out there would hear her.

After feeding Bran one night, Maester Luwin said there was a gift for Rhaella. It was a fancy looking chest.

"It says it's from Majester Illyrio from Pentos," he told her. "Also, Lord Stark sent the both of you gifts." He placed Bran's gift at the side of his bed.

From what she could tell, it looked like a sword wrapped up. Then he gave her gift, it was small and wrapped up. She unwrapped it and smiled. It was a doll.

The doll was quite creepy, but she cherished the thoughtful gift anyway.

After Luwin left the room, she opened the chest.

She let out a small gasp, inspecting the gift. It was a dragon egg! Next to it was a letter, from Daenerys!

Dear Rhaella,

I hope you are doing well my sister. I'm afraid I have some news. I was married off in trade for a Dothraki army. His name is Khal Drogo, and he looks big and scary. We are about to leave with the Khalaasar. I didn't want to marry him, or anyone. I just want to go home. To finally see you! Sometimes when I get scared...I say that I am the blood of the dragon. Dragon's are fearless and brave which is what I should be. You are the only person in this world that brings me happiness. I hope you enjoy the gift I sent you.

Love, Daenerys.

Poor Daenerys, I guess we both have to be brave right now. More than ever.

"Look Bran, I have a dragon egg! Too bad Arya isn't here to see it." Rhaella told him. She liked talking to Bran while he slept. Deep down, it felt like he could hear her. "Bran, please wake up," she whispered, holding his motionless hand. "I need you."

A few tears fell from her eyes onto the furs of the bed. She hesitated at first, but then gave him a peck on the cheek before leaving. She reached for the door knob until she heard a groan. Startled, she turned back to the bed.

"Rhaella?" He asked weakly.

"Bran!" She shouted. She jumped onto the bed and gave him a big hug, "You're awake, finally awake!"

Rhaella told the others about the great news. She could tell Robb wanted to cry, but knowing him, he didn't, at least not in front of her. Rickon, of course, did.

"You shouldn't try walking," Maester Luwin told him. "At least, not yet. Your body is extremely weak and thin because of the coma. If you slept longer, you likely would have been dead."

"If Bran needs to go somewhere, what will he do?" Rhaella asked the Maester. "We will have Hodor carry him," he replied.

"I had a strange dream," Bran said, as he was eating some pigeon pie. "I was falling. Falling the whole time, without hitting the ground. There was a raven there too. It had three eyes. It told me 'fly or die.'"

"Don't think about it too much, it was only a dream child," Luwin said.

Rhaella wanted to tell them about her strange dream, but maybe the Maester was right. Perhaps it was only a dream.

— DAENERYS ೃ࿔*:･

"I hit him," Daenerys said, panicking. "I hit the dragon."

Dany couldn't take Viserys' tantrums anymore. He hurt one of her handmaidens, Doreah, because she told him Dany wanted him to come to supper. He took it as a command. He tried to strike Dany down, but something woke inside of her and she fought back.

"Your brother Rhaegar was the last dragon," Ser Jorah Mormont explained. He had met Dany during her wedding, where he swore his loyalty to House Targaryen. "Viserys is less than a shadow of a snake."

"He is still the true king," She reminded him.

"The Magister told the three of us that the common people were praying for his return."

"Three?" The man asked.

"Forgive me," she said. "It wasn't just me and my brother living with Illyrio, our cousin was there with us. My sister, Rhaella."

"I believe I never heard of her." Jorah admitted.

"She was good," Daenerys said with a smile. "A good, sweet, intelligent, and beautiful girl. She was the only thing that I cared about in this world." Her smile faded away, "and he sold her away from me."

"Where is she now?"

"In Winterfell, with the Starks. The people that betrayed my family."

"Forgive me Khalessi, but the Starks are an honorable house. Trust me when I say this, she is in good hands."

"I will get her back one day, I swear it." Daenerys said. "I pray everyday that she is okay, what do you pray for Ser Jorah?"

"Home."

"So do I," she said. I hope she received her gift and the letter.

— RHAELLA ೃ࿔*:･

Rhaella and Bran listened to Old Nan tell her crazy stories. A lot of them were quite strange and boring most of the time. Bran stroked the fur of his dire wolf. He decided to name him Summer. Summer grew so big that soon they would be able to ride on his back. What Rhaella loved about Summer was his beautiful features. He had fire-like brown eyes and fur on his back.

Bran's eleventh name day came and went quickly, but the boy was too depressed to celebrate. He said he'd rather die than be crippled for life, which broke Rhaella's heart. Soon after her eleventh name day passed, but all she requested for was lemon cakes to eat while by Bran's bedside.

Both of them could hear the shouts and screams of Rickon playing with Shaggydog and Greywind outside. "I want to be out there," Bran mumbled. His eyes stung. She could see in his eyes he wanted to cry.

"Would you like to hear a story about a knight?" Old Nan asked as she sowed. "Ser Duncan the Tall perhaps?"

"I don't want to listen to that," Bran said, his voice petulant. The topic of knights seemed to bother him. Rhaella didn't blame his bitterness. The one thing he ever wanted was taken away from him. "Yeah, you already told Ser Duncan's stories many times," Rhaella sighed.

She loved the adventures of Dunc and Egg, but she heard the story so many times, she thought she would pull her hair out.

"It's the scary ones I like." Bran said lowly.

"Oh, my sweet summer child," Old Nan said quietly, "what do you know of fear? Fear is for the winter, my little lord, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep and the ice wind comes howling out of the north. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides its face for years at a time, and little children are born and live and die all in darkness while the direwolves grow gaunt and hungry, and the white walkers move through the woods."

The children were deeply invested in the story. It was something Rhaella never heard about before, true or not, it intrigued her.

They continued to listen until Theon opened the door, making them snap out of the trance and jump.

"I don't wish to see anyone!" Bran said, coldly.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice," Theon said.

"Lord Tyrion wants to see you. Hodor!" The tall giant waltzed in the room, "Hodor?"

"Take Bran to the Great Hall," he commanded.

Hodor did as he said, picking Bran up and left the room. Theon and Rhaella followed behind.

"What does he want from Bran?" She asked the Greyjoy. "I'm not sure, he wanted to see you too."

Once we walked in, she could hear Lord Tyrion say, "so it's true . . ."

Hodor stood before Tyrion with Bran in his arms.

"Hello Bran," he said to the child. He turned his attention to Rhaella, "and hello to you too, Rhaella. Do either of you remember what happened?"

"They barely have any memory of what happened before the accident," Luwin answered for them as he sat at the main table with Robb. With Lord Stark gone, Robb had to take on the role as Lord of Winterfell.

"That's unfortunate," the Lannister said.

"Why are you here?" Robb asked.

"Would you be as kind to ask your charming companion to neil? I'm afraid my neck is starting to hurt," Tyrion asked Bran. He was different from his siblings. He was an "imp" Arya said. He was as tall as Rhaella, and can't grow anymore than that. Hodor obeyed Bran's request to neil.

"Do the both of you like to ride?" He asked them.

Both of the children answered yes. Bran added,

"well, I did like to." Luwin wasn't sure if Bran could ever walk again, but he said they still needed to give Bran more time to heal.

"Lucky for you, I have brought the finest horses for you and blueprints of a special saddle that can even let cripples ride," he told him. "I'm not a cripple." Bran said. "I'm not sure yet."

"Well in case you are, the saddle will still work perfectly for you." Tyrion gave Bran the blueprints of the saddle. It made Rhaella feel warm inside to see Bran's eyes light up as he looked at the paper.

"And for you," Tyrion said, turning to her. " have something else as well. I'm afraid it's not blueprints, but I assure you that you will love it."

Rhaella's eyes brightened up as Tyrion opened a small case. Inside of it was a beautiful golden ring with the Targaryen sigil on it. "I found this where we have the Targaryen artifacts kept. I thought you should have it," he explained. "It is believed to be one of the many jewelry that Daemon Targaryen gave his niece, Rhaenerya."

"Wow," Rhaella exclaimed. "Thank you . . ."

"Is this some kind of trick?" Robb asked, confused and defensive.

"I have a special place in my heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things," Tyrion replied, smiling at the children. They both gave a smile back.

"You have done them a kindness," Robb said.

"Winterfell is welcomed to you."

"No need for the false loyalties, Stark," Tyrion said. "For I will be leaving shortly."

Before he could ride off, Rhaella ran outside to the courtyard. He noticed her approaching him, "ah, it's you again. I had the both of your horses placed in the stables. May the gods bless the both of you."

"I . . .I thought your family hated me," Rhaella admitted. "You are a kind person, I thank you again."

Tyrion smiled, "I am not like my family, unlike them, I have a heart. Take this as advice, young girl. As someone who is not only Targaryen, but a foreigner as well, you will face hardships. Take what makes you different, and be proud of it. That way, no one can bring you down."

Rhaella nodded and watched as he rode off with his men. She went over to the stables to see the horses. Her horse had a beautiful white coat with wavy mane so light, it almost looks white instead of blonde. Bran's horse was a beautiful jet black color with black mane. They complimented each other beautifully, like the stars and the night sky.

Bran spent the rest of the morning getting sigil lessons with Maester Luwin. Rhaella practiced her archery with Theon Greyjoy while she waited for the lessons to be over. Lord Tyrion’s gift lifted Bran’s spirits, but only ever so slightly. He was always a cheerful boy, a sweet Summer child. Now, he was as cold as winter.

Afterwards, Rhaella and Bran spent the afternoon sitting in the godswood under the weirwood tree. He laid on the ground, resting his head on Rhaella's thigh as she read the history book. "Arya would be furious if she found out we finished the Dance of the Dragons," Rhae chuckled.

"Maybe she should have stayed with us." Bran said, bitterly.

She continued to read, "when Rhaenerya's last alive son was crowned king, the small folk came up with many names. Aegon the Unlucky, Aegon the Unhappy, or Dragonbane. Grand Maester Munkun called him the Broken King."

"Aegon the Broken," Bran said. He sighed. "Bran the Broken."

Rhaella slammed the book shut. "You are not broken, Bran!"

"What do you call a boy who can barely walk properly anymore? Broken, that's what." He said coldly. "Now, I can't even be a knight at all! That's all I ever wanted . . ."

"Well, then," Rhaella said, standing back up. "I guess I'll just have to help you walk better again!"

"What do you mean?" He asked cocking his head.

"How about this, everyday, we come here and practice your walking," she said. "Maester Luwin did say you can walk, just not as much as you used to."

"You'd really help me?" He asked. She was shocked he would even ask that.

"Of course!" She said taking his hand to help him up. "Not only are you my betrothed, you are my dearest friend. All I could ever want is for you to be happy." She wrapped his arm around her shoulder, "I'd also like for my egg to hatch, so one day we can fly on dragon back and eat nothing but desserts!"

"I'm glad that we met." He smiled. She smiled back at the Stark boy, "so am I."

Taglist: @lover-of-books-and-tea

#bran stark #bran stark x reader #bran stark imagine #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #fanfic #house of the dragon #arya stark #a song of ice and fire #sansa stark #jon snow #daenerys targaryen #asoiaf

55 notes · View notes

woeswrites · 7 months ago

Text

Yandere Hannibal Lecter

Warnings: Alluding towards torture, Yandere themes, Obsessive behaviors,

Notes: Hannibal's done! A fic idea I had shortened down into whatever this is lol

Hannibal sure loved his dinner parties

Needless to say the community did too

To satiate the numerous requests for more he'd decided it was time to out-do himself yet again

A gathering to celebrate summer solstice would do

He'd spend a considerable amount of time in preparation

Handwritten invitations

A completely unique menu

And last but certainly not least, the gathering of ingredients

As he finished off the last of the swine he could already see his vision coming together

'The day of' quickly approached

Hours he spent slaving away in the kitchen

Finally he'd be able to enjoy himself and entertain his guests

He'd meticulously picked out his visitors for this event

You were very much not among those he'd selected

His eyes trained against your figure

A simple glance and nothing would have been amiss

But Hannibal was not the average onlooker

One by one he picked up on curiosities about you

Your darting eyes scoping out the place

Your suit, new but definitely not costly enough to fit in with the rest of the crowd

And one last thing, that fancy watch of yours

Hannibal excused himself from the clique who had entrapped him with their formalities

A few quick greetings here and there and he was by your side

"Forgive me, but I cannot seem to remember your name. All the party planning must be clouding my memory."

You were quite surprised at the host's appearance

Its not like you were in a group of people

On the contrary, you were alone, on the outskirts of the room

"No need to ask forgiveness. This is actually our first time meeting. Y/n-- Monroe's plus one. It's nice to meet you."

Hannibal gracefully accepted your handshake

He didn't feel the need to mention that he'd already encountered Monroe and his companion that night

That would ruin the fun

He'd strike up a conversation, all the basics (weather, occupation, etc.)

It was safe to say Hannibal didn't believe the accountant lie

He felt your callouses earlier, those were hands of labor

But, yet again, that was something he kept to himself for the time being

By the time you started looking a little antsy someone was calling for Hannibal

"Hostly duties. I hope to catch you again before the party's over Mr. L/n. Do try some of the horderves, I hear the chef's fantastic."

As soon as you escaped the interaction you were back at it

Scanning the various rooms for anything light enough that was worth taking

Elite parties like this were like taking candy from a baby

It's not like these millionaires would notice a few pieces of jewelry missing anyways

Especially not while they were off getting drunk with their friends

Hey, even if they did

You'd soon be gone without a trace

Or at least you thought so

While everyone else was mingling downstairs you'd managed to worm your way into the master bedroom

Luckily you'd brought a pretty bulky satchel with you

Everything and anything that looked valuable was slipped inside the bag

While questioning whether or not the gold candle holders were worth the space they'd take up you heard something

Footsteps

The function was still thriving downstairs (as evident from all the chatter and music)

Perhaps a random partygoer felt the urge to explorex

You weren't too worried about it before they started sounding closer

And closer

It was evident they were heading your way

It was too late to hide

They were practically already here

You quickly clasped your satchel together again before the man fully stood before you

"Well look at what we have here."

"Hannibal! You're just the man I had wanted to see. I have completely gotten lost. Where's your bathroom?"

Your sheepish smile did nothing to convince the man in front of you

Instead he'd locked the door behind him

"If you're trying to be secretive about your motives, maybe you should be careful about wearing your spoils before you've fully left the scene of the crime."

Hannibal points at the watch on your wrist

You might have been wearing it but it was definitely his

You tried to rectify your actions

You clearly had never been caught before

All of the goods were thrown onto the ground

You backed away, begging him to forgive you for you actions

"You know, I really hate the rude. I don't know what more ill-mannered than stealing."

Hannibal approached slowly, rolling up his sleeves

You tried backing away but couldn't get too far

"I'm sorry-- I'm so so sorry!"

"No you aren't. But you will be."

Just like that you were out

It took a second for you to realize you were awake again, your vision obscured by some sort of cloth

Hannibal would eventually reveal your surroundings

You were in his basement, a sight not many were privy to

It probably had something to do with the meats hanging down there

You had to fight the bile that rose up your throat

Hannibal grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at him

"We're gonna shape you into a good boy. No matter how long it takes."

He wheeled a cart over to you, the tools a little too fuzzy for you to make out with how bad your head hurt

"Don't look so scared. A little cooperation and maybe this won't hurt so bad Mylimasis."

He'd break you down over time

There was no other option

#he/him #male reader #Hannibal Lecter x male reader #hannibal lecter x reader #yandere hannibal #yandere hannibal lecter #possessive love #NBC Hannibal #yandere NBC hannibal #hannibal #hannibal lecter

125 notes · View notes

mysteria157 · 2 months ago

Text

Equinox

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Black!Fem Reader

Summary: As Fall whispers its approach, you find yourself tangled in Toji's sheets and the remnants of a summer that was never meant to last.

CW: mild intoxication, explicit sexual content, slight angst, mentions of oral (f! receiving), missionary, vaginal sex, fluff and comfort. As always, reader is a black fem.

WC: 4.8K

Author notes: I had an idea for an 'end of summer' fic with Toji that I really needed to write. and I can't focus on anything else until this leaves my mind lol. Inspired by @absoluteindulgence 💕

As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated.

Happy reading!

Header: myself | Divider: @saradika @cafekitsune | @pixelcafe-network💕

Masterlist | Ao3 | Twitter

The end of summer carries a unique weight, a bittersweet finality that hits everyone differently. For children, it’s the last wind of freedom—of the final days of sunkissed adventures with each other and nights that never seem to end, before the school bell calls them back to structure and routine.

For the workforce, it’s a time of transition marked by the ticking clock of fiscal calendars. The not-so-busy days of August give way to a rush of activity—reports to file, budgets to review and close, plans to make for the coming year. Pencil skirts and a turned eye to open-toed shoes slowly shift back to crisp shirts and ironed slacks, polished and prepared for the productivity of fall.

For you, the shift is more powerful. It’s a sign of change that you’ve rehearsed but now find yourself forgetting the lines. It’s of saying goodbye to dalliances and an easy fling, of turning the page and embracing a new part of yourself. A new job. A new relationship status (single). A new outlook on life.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself it would be.

That’s what you tell yourself when you say ‘fuck it’ to monotony on your 30th birthday and decide to let your friends drag you around town. ‘Just try it,’ they giggle as you eye the horse races with a raised eyebrow, the announcer blaring in your ears over the roar of the crowd around you. It’s a place you would never imagine finding yourself. But you say ‘fuck it’ and go along for the ride. Tipsy and smiling from ear to ear as you yell to the wind when the #1 Happy Days crosses the finish line and puts three grand in your pocket.

‘Fuck it’ is what you tell yourself when nonchalant emerald eyes met yours, a scarred pair of lips smirking down as you slide your ticket to the attendee to collect your winnings. Nonchalant but mysterious emerald eyes that trace over your form without grace, eyeing the block sandals and too-tight shimmery silver dress that hugs your curves and shows the smooth brown skin of your thighs.

“Who gave you a heads up about Lucky Days? No way you won on your first try.” His voice is smooth, like fine velvet that ghosts over you.

“The disbelief in your voice tells me you lose often.”

Don’t encourage this.

That’s what you tell yourself when a heavily muscled arm drapes across the collections counter, a whiff of outdoors and mint and man wafting up your nose as his smirk deepens. “I don’t lose.”

The attendant mutters you a kind ‘Happy Birthday’ and slides a modest stack across the counter; your winnings twinkling up at you in crispy green. The large man next to you hasn’t moved, and unfortunately, you are tipsy enough to linger. Tipsy enough to drag your gaze over him with equal disgrace, catching the pale collarbone, angular jaw, and midnight hair that kisses his cheeks.

“Birthday magic then?” he inquires to keep your attention, taking a step closer with a confidence that makes your thighs clench. To you, he’s a tall man…a rugged, tall, and handsome man who lives in an untouched part of your mind. The kind of man that you always fantasize about doing the nastiest things with.

“I don’t know what that means.” You tuck your winnings against your chest, the deep cut of your dress pressing your breasts up against your arms, and his heavy gaze that falls upon them only makes something tingle in your core. “Now, go away before you ruin the rest of my day.”

Go away before I make a bad decision.

He chuckles, a sound from deep in his chest, rattling the thick fabric of his black sweater. He gestures to your friends who are definitely drunk, downing another shot at the makeshift bar a few yards away. “You’ve got time.”

“Not for you, I don’t,” you lie through your teeth, trying and failing to hold your breath when he takes another step.

“You wanna bet, baby?”

Your reply catches in the back of your throat. Words that you know you should say right now. Words that you’ve had to speak to men countless times whenever you decide to go out and have fun and show any sort of skin past your ankle. Your bodies brush together, and you can’t tell if he wants you or the nice stack of cash resting on your tits.

But you don’t care.

“Something tells me, you’re not very good at gambling,” is what you retort, eyes locked on his, intention and desire radiating from you both as the little voice inside your head drowns in your arousal.

He’s bad news. This is a bad idea.

That’s what you tell yourself when you spend half your winnings with him on Takoyaki and a lost race. That’s what you tell yourself when you straddle his thick waist later that night, the frazzled ends of your dress pushed up over your ribs, panties shoved to the side with little fanfare. Taking a cock thicker than what you were used to, oozing an attachment you know won’t be good for you, finally asking for his name an hour later after he has you panting on your stomach from another orgasm.

“Toji Fushiguro,” he chuckles against the nape of your neck, nipping at the thin skin with sharp teeth that trail down your back, hiking your hips up before you gasp at the feel of his tongue between your sensitive folds as he eats you out from the back.

This is a bad idea.

That’s what you tell yourself when you wake up the next morning, sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains, your body pleasantly sore, your dress on the floor across the room, and your mind hazy with memories of the night before. You slip out before he wakes up, phone already pressed to your ear and prepared to get an earful from your friends for disappearing, now more determined than ever to make sure this was a one-time thing.

But summer has other plans.

Your plan to pick up fresh fruit from the farmer’s market is ruined when you run into his broad shoulders and easy grin, a stark contrast to the colorful produce around him. Your plan to enjoy the beach is gone with the salty wind when you see him again days later, droplets of seawater clinging to his muscled skin, making him glisten in the sunlight. Each encounter leads to another night of passion, another afternoon of embracing a sexual side of yourself you never knew was there, another morning of promises to yourself that this will be the last time.

Until eventually, something has to give.

Just for the summer. No strings. No awkward conversations. Just sex. Because once the summer is over, you’ll be in a new office across town, too busy to entertain a relationship, let alone anything else in your life.

Just for the summer.

But as the weeks pass, something shifts. Stolen mornings of Toji’s head between your thighs because he was ‘in the neighborhood’ begin to stretch into lazy afternoons, you teaching him to cook fried green tomatoes and showing him the steps of your hair care routine. Hurried encounters in bathroom stalls with your legs wrapped around his waist and his filthy words in your ear give way to lingering touches and shared laughter at the absurdity of it all.

You find yourself opening up to him, sharing parts of yourself over ice cream cones he swears he can’t stand but eats anyway, the edges of his favorite—but won’t admit—Rocky Road melting too quickly in the summer heat over his pale hands. He starts to let his guard down, revealing glimpses of vulnerability behind those forest-green eyes. Of a harsh past, a complicated present, and a son overseas whom he hopes to see soon.

Maybe it was the Sunday afternoon when a sudden thunderstorm trapped you both in his apartment, leading to hours of conversation punctuated by rumbling thunder. Maybe it was the early evening you found him at the pier, silhouetted against a spectacular sunset, a tension in his shoulders and a quietness you had never seen or felt before.

You try so hard to ignore the changes in Toji’s behavior. The way his hand lingers on the small of your back when you are in public. The sight of your favorite snacks appearing in his kitchen because he is ‘tired of hearing you complain about him not having any food.’ The soft look in his eyes that you catch at odd moments while you both watch movies.

‘Just for the summer’ has become an agreement that you both have not read the guidelines for in quite some time.

Now, as the first hints of autumn whisper through the trees outside, you find yourself exactly where you swore you wouldn’t be—tangled in Toji’s sheets that always smell too good and his warm body a solid presence behind you that always feels too safe. The room is covered in the gentle glow of dawn, a midnight blue breaking open for soft auburn, and you’re acutely aware of his arm draped over your waist, a muscled leg lodged between yours, his breath a steady rhythm against the nape of your neck.

You need to get up. Tomorrow is your first day at a new firm and you’ve let Toji keep you distracted from preparing. From shopping for new outfits and getting your hair done. From the inevitable of whatever the hell this is.

Instead, you turn carefully in his arms, the movement doing nothing to rouse him. You study his face in the gentle morning light that’s now gotten a little brighter. The scar at the corner of his mouth, once a symbol of a mysterious allure, is now as familiar as your reflection.

Hair the color of ink splays across his face, disheveled and frizzy, a few strings of silver at the roots above his ear. Before, you could get a good look at him while he slept and smirk to yourself that this would be your ride for so many weeks of summer. A fleeting but appreciative glance before you ducked away and left before he could open his eyes. Now as you look at him, your heart tightens with an emotion you’ve been trying to ignore for just as long.

This was a bad idea.

As if sensing your gaze, Toji’s eyes flutter open. For a heartbeat, two, he simply stares at you. The green in his eyes is deep, mesmerizing in the early morning light, still hazy with sleep but quickly sharpening as he focuses on your face. You can finally see the openness there, a susceptibility you occasionally find when he’s fully awake. You can never maintain eye contact in moments like this. It makes your breath catch in your throat because he’s too close, too intense, too much.

Wordlessly, Toji tightens his hold, pulling you flush against him. Your naked bodies mold together, the warmth of his skin seeps into yours, and you have to bite back a content sigh. There’s so much you’ve had to hold back lately to acclimate yourself to the eventual change. Then, with a gentleness that still surprises you, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of your shoulder.

“What time is it?” he mumbles, unfortunate soft lips trailing up to the sensitive spot behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

You struggle to focus, his touch already making your heady fuzzy and jumbled. You glance at the nightstand, where the clock face peeks out from behind a summer’s worth of memories. Sun-bleached seashells from lazy beach days rest against crumpled ticket stubs, reminders of nights when you belted out lyrics while Toji pretended not to enjoy himself.

“Just past seven,” you manage to whisper, somehow getting the words out as Toji’s touch scatters your thoughts further like the trinkets on the nightstand.

Toji hums in response, his chest vibrating against yours. “Too early,” he says, a low rumble that you feel between your thighs, awakening a hunger that only he knows how to satiate. “Stay a bit longer.”

He smells faintly of bonfire smoke from last night—an impromptu farewell to summer party thrown by your friends that ended with you both stumbling back to his apartment, tearing at each other’s clothes, his hands pulling an orgasm from you before your back could even hit the mattress. Last night was different—more intense, more passionate. A mess of sweaty limbs and heavy breathing as you panted against him, trying to wave your own white flag of surrender that never quite made it past your lips each time he gave you more, more, more, unwilling to let the night end.

As Toji shifts to hover above you, you’re struck by the familiar weight of him, how it feels a little too close to home. It’s comfortable when his waist rests against yours, his cock slowly hardening against your thigh. His kisses, once desperate and searing, have softened. They still ignite a fire in you, but it’s a steady burn now, deep and enduring in the core of your stomach.

“I should really get going,” you implore, but your voice wavers, free of the conviction you desperately need right now. “New job tomorrow, remember?”

“Hmm,” he hums again to the column of your throat. He lifts his head, his gaze fierce and penetrating. Outside, the birds begin their morning call, warming their wings to prepare for their journey south. “You’ve got time,” he says softly, echoing words from that first night at the horse track. He goes back into the crook of your neck, chapped lips pressing to your skin with promise. “Stay.” It sounds too much like a demand, punctuated by a thorough roll of his hips. Your own cant towards him without thinking. “I’ll make breakfast.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles from your chest, remembering the last time he tried to sway you longer in his bed a few weeks ago. You realized when you choked on a too-wet pancake that Toji’s culinary skills were limited at best. “You? Cook?”

A punishing nip to your neck makes you gasp, your fingers sliding up his back to dig into muscled meat. “I can manage eggs. Probably. Might even use those tomatoes we grew.”

The ‘we’ doesn’t escape your notice. The small vegetable patch was your idea, a whim that blurted from your mouth on a sweltering day, eyes bulging and lips ready to backtrack before he agreed and it became a shared project. Like so many things between you, it grew into something more when you weren’t paying attention.

Toji’s hand traces random patterns on your skin, soft between your breasts and over your navel before brushing folds that are already wet. You shouldn’t widen your legs more, but you do. Shouldn’t bite your lip in that telling sign that you’re wanting, but you do that too. “Got that job site inspection next week,” he says, aiming for casual. “Not far from where you’ll be.”

You swallow a deep-seated mewl that gurgles in the back of your throat when his fingers circle your clit, calloused pads the right amount of rough to ignite that fire in your stomach. Next week is beyond the boundary you both had set, beyond the promise of ‘just this summer.’ Hope, so unwanted in this very moment but also so overwhelming and bright as the early September sun, flares in your chest.

“T-toji,” you choke out to the feel of a thick finger collecting the slick that leaks from you before sliding inside. The heel of his palm brushes against your clit with every thrust of his hand, and your body responds to him quickly.

You walked into this thinking you would be able to wipe your hands of him and say goodbye when the leaves began to fall. But it didn’t take long for Toji to learn how to take you apart, to open you up and see how you ticked before sewing you back together with a skill that still surprises you.

Your fingernails press into his back, a practiced demand for more and he rewards you with a stern but satisfied gaze and another finger in your wet cunt. The hand not working your core cards through your curls, twisting at your nape before tilting your head back, exposing more of your neck with a wet gasp from your lips. His tongue glides along your skin, tasting bonfire smoke and ocean salt, a rumble in his chest, and a curl of his wet fingers to show how much he enjoys it. How much he enjoys the taste of you.

“Stay,” he demands again, nipping your earlobe, a third finger sliding into your cunt and you moan sharply at the stretch. You’re a little sore from last night, but your body welcomes the ache and rejoices in the brush against the spongy spot inside of you that he hits with precision. That fire in your belly roils quicker than what you want, bubbling to the surface and ready to burst with an orgasm that’s pressing at your skin. You’re already gasping, already moaning, already fighting the urge to beg him for the thing that’s thicker and heavier between his legs.

“Did you hear me?” he asks, purring low in your ear. You can only nod as you savor the clench of muscles in your stomach from his ministrations below, the sound of his hand sopping wet as he plays with you. “Then answer me.”

You can’t. Even though you’ve rehearsed this exact conversation for the past week. Even though you’ve prepared the right words if he tried to make you sing for him one last time. You can’t speak. Because the realization that Toji is doing what he can to keep you here makes your breath hitch and the fire in your belly finally erupts as a moan falls from your mouth as if you’ve been gutted, your orgasm locking your muscles around him. You turn your head into the pillow beneath you, panting and body trembling, your nape tingling from his grip, the clock on his nightstand blurry because you have to keep your eyes on something besides his steely gaze that spears your skin.

As your orgasm fades into the chilly air around you, you know you’ve given too much, and you can’t let this go on. Reluctantly, you turn your head back to face him, ready to retreat. His crumbling, guarded gaze now holds a mix of desire and something deeper, more vulnerable and raw that’s too much for you right now. Toji’s jaw clenches as if he’s holding back more words. As if he’s frustrated with your unwillingness to give him what he wants.

Instead of speaking, Toji presses his forehead against yours, an intimate gesture that makes you wish he would have used his words instead. But this speaks more than words ever could. His breathing, usually calm and controlled even in the throes of sex, comes in short, ragged bursts, betraying whatever he’s trying to hide.

It’s a rare sight. You’ve seen it on the nights he convinces you to stay over and he shoots up from his sleep, panting like he’s run a mile, the silver of moonlight kissing the scars on his back and telling you a story without having to ask. You saw it weeks ago when you both screamed at each other for the first time, a joke of you going on a date turned sour, his shoulders heaving in anger and eyes trying and failing to hold his true thoughts back.

It’s the same right now. Black hair swaying over his forehead as he hovers over you, the hand from between your legs now digging into the flesh of your hip with wet fingers. You notice the slight furrow in his brow, the way his lips part as if he wants to say something. They twitch for a fraction of a second, opening and closing just once before he leans in to kiss you, as if he’s suddenly unsure of his welcome.

And you hate how quickly you show just how welcome he is, sighing into his body and wrapping your arms around his neck. You hate how quickly your body reignites, hips arching up to brush against his pulsing cock, the touch producing a low groan from him into your mouth. He ruts against you, rubbing your dripping cunt in rough but practiced circles that make you whine against him.

The summer is ending, you remind yourself. This has to end, you beg yourself even as you pull away from him, panting against wet lips that somehow always taste of the peppermint candy he refuses to go without. You reach down to wrap your hand around him, swallowing the hiss that shoots from him as you guide him to where you need him most. Toji enters you slowly, deliberately, cataloging the way you arch into him, your bodies fitting together like the last two pieces of a puzzle you’ve been working on all season.

Through the cracked window that Toji refuses to close every night, you hear the world slowly wake up—school buses and more bird calls mixing with your ragged breaths as he moves within you. Deep and with purpose, wanting but with a tinge of frustration. Your fingers dig into his back, leaving crescent moons that some part of you hopes never fade after you’re long gone.

Each thrust feels like falling—falling into him, falling into feelings you weren’t prepared for, falling like the leaves outside that signal the end of one season and the beginning of another. The pleasure courses through you, building slowly, steadily.

You relax your nails on his back, roaming instead, feeling the flex and ripple of muscles beneath your fingertips. The landscape feels different now, charged with electricity that makes your skin tingle and your heart race.

The pressure builds within you, a warmth spreading from your core outwards, hot and pulsing with every brush of his pubic bone against your clit. It squeezes the sides of your neck, making it harder to breathe, to think, to act. Your breath comes in short, sharp pants, mingling with the crisp morning air.

Toji’s hands leave your hips, reaching up to grab your wrists. He presses them into the pillow, one on each side of your head, opening you up and leaving you exposed while he takes you apart with every roll of his hips.

“Fuck, Toji,” you whine, gasping into the air as you arch into him. “Don’t—”

“You’ve gotta answer me, sweetheart,” Toji’s voice resonates low and insistent as he kisses up your neck, groaning in satisfaction when you clench around him in reflex. “I know you can,” he urges, his rhythm never faltering and his voice strained, “Tell me you’ll stay.”

You want to tell him to shut up. To stop it and give you one last mind-blowing orgasm and leave this alone like you both agreed. But you can’t. Each of Toji’s movements pulls moan after moan from deep within you, your eyes rolling into the back of your head before you squeeze your lids shut so you don’t have to look at him.

Suddenly, one of Toji’s hands releases a wrist, and before you can react, his palm cups the side of your face, his touch unexpectedly gentle. His thumb brushes your cheekbone, a tender gesture that contrasts with the intensity of his thrusts. With careful pressure, he turns your face towards him.

You shouldn’t look at him, but your eyes flutter open to meet his anyway, sharp and powerful. His hand on your face is warm, almost cradling, yet insistent in its silent plea for your attention. You feel exposed under his scrutiny. Your body is bare along with your emotions, raw and unfiltered. “Stay,” he breathes once again, softer this time even though the heavy meaning pounds against you, unrelenting and harsh.

The hand on your cheek slides between your bodies before you feel his fingers on your clit, pleasure rocking through you like lightning, and you tighten around him.

“Squeeze around me just like that,” he hisses at the feel of you, his breath hot against your skin, and you obey immediately, savoring the sharp grunt from his chest. “So fucking beautiful.” He’s said it so many times before but now it feels different. Dangerous.

The fingers of your free hand dig into Toji’s shoulders, holding on for dear life as he fucks you with a ferocity that leaves you breathless, your body sliding up and down on the sheets.

“Oh,” you gasp, “Oh fuck Toji—I can’t—” Your body shakes against him, hips rolling with his fingers on your clit. You’re painfully aware of every sensation: the slide of skin on skin, slick with sweat; the subtle creak of the mattress beneath you and the thump of the headboard against the wall; the rustle of the sheets tangled around your legs.

“Give it all to me, baby,” he encourages and you want to shake your head ‘no’ because you feel like he’s asking you for something else. “Let go for me.”

“I can’t,” you plead against his lips again, shaking your head even as your body speaks differently. Trying to finally tell him without actually telling him. You can’t let him in and get hurt. You can’t be brave enough to take a chance.

But like every challenge Toji has ever been given, he faces it directly, taking in your meaning immediately. The hand on your wrist slides up to your palm, his calloused fingers intertwining with yours. The pleasure intensifies, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. It’s almost too much, this feeling of fullness, of completeness.

“Look at me,” he demands softly. As your eyes meet his, he whispers, “I need you here. With me.”

It’s the raw emotion in his gaze, the sharp shift from his usual gruff words, the sudden feel of his lips against yours as he kisses you, and the terrifying realization that this man wants more than just your body that pushes you over the edge. Your release crashes over you like a chilling wave, powerful and all-consuming. You cry out, breaking from his lips as your back arches, body shuddering, as intense pleasure radiates through every nerve.

Not even a moment later, the tightening of your body from your release is enough to take Toji with you. He slides a hand beneath you, crushing you up against him, hard muscles against soft brown skin as he tenses and groans low and deep into the air, painting your insides warm with his cum. You both collapse, breathing erratically, his weight a welcome suffocation.

In this moment of ecstasy, suspended between summer and fall, between what was and what could be, you finally acknowledge that something fundamental has shifted. Like the turning of the seasons, there’s no going back. And as you cling to Toji, riding out the aftershocks of your shared passion, you find that the word he’s asking for remains lodged in your throat, your mind a battleground between desire and fear, between staying and leaving. But you know you need to say something.

“Toji,” you start after a few minutes when your breathing has calmed down, uncertainty heavy in your voice. “We said—”

“I know what we said,” he interrupts, rough and frustrated and something else. He lifts his head, jade-green eyes meeting yours, his want clear in their depths. “Just—fuck. Maybe we…can say something different now.”

Toji may be guarded in the things he says, but he has never lied. Not to you. And there’s no lie in his features now. There’s no morning haziness to show you his vision and thoughts are clouded. There’s no sinful smirk that hides true intentions. It’s pure honesty.

And as you search his face, a gust of wind rattles the wind chimes outside that you hung together, carrying with it the scent of sun-warmed grass through his cracked window. You can’t help but think of all the moments that led to this—moments you tried to ignore—the laughter, the lust that burned into something deeper, the quiet understanding that grew between you as the summer days stretched long and golden.

His hand intertwined with yours gives you a firm squeeze, pulling you from your thoughts. “Stay,” Toji says one final time, and the finality of it means more than just this morning. More than just this summer.

The sunlight breaks through the brisk air to hit your cooling skin, warming you from the inside along with him atop you. You want to finally say ‘okay,’ but you’re still too afraid to speak, too afraid to ruin this moment with your words in case you back down at the last minute.

So instead, you give his intertwined fingers a firm squeeze as well, hoping that tells him what he needs to know. Hoping that tells him you have the courage to stay…right now.

Or at least just for the Fall.

Thanks for reading!

225 notes · View notes

jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 year ago

Text

Peace & Quiet (poly!SatoSugu x Black!Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

“How's this for relaxation, hm?” he teases. “Just what you needed, right?”

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Geto Suguru x Black!Fem!Reader

Synopsis: In which you realize peace and quiet aren’t ideal with your two noisy ass (yet extremely attractive) coworkers renting out the same Airbnb as you while visiting the hot springs on a business trip. But lucky for you, they know another way to help you relax.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Black-coded!Reader (but anyone can still read this); Marijuana Use; Truth or Dare; Skinny Dipping; Coworkers to Lovers; Poly Romance; Exhibitionism; Mutual Oral; Cum Eating; Dirty Talk; Spanking; Spitting; Facefucking; Unprotected PIV Sex; Mild Degradation; Clit Play; Spitroast; Creampie; Throatpie; Aftercare

Writer's Note: In honor of JJK S2 dropping next week, I decided to give my favorite idiot duo some love. And if I'm not uploading as regularly it's cuz I'm on a cruise lol. Enjoy! -Jazz

Read on AO3 here!

********

You audibly sigh as you sink further into the deep depths of the comfortable, heated water.

Nothing but the sound of bubbling water and chirping birds fills the summer air around you. The shaded trees hanging above you allow you shade from the summer sun’s rays peeking through the green leaves, making the warm water feel even better when it isn’t below the bright rays of the sun.

You loop your arms over a nearby rock and lie your head against the wet surface. ‘Paradise,’ you think with a content smile.

You’ll have to thank your company again for picking such a great spot for your Airbnb. It isn’t that close to the new city you’re in, but close enough that the drive there isn’t exhausting. It’s pretty quiet and the trees surrounding the area allow you just enough privacy to tan naked if you wanted to. But you’d die before you’d do something like that.

You still can’t believe you were picked for such an amazing opportunity! You’ve always wanted to go on a business trip for your job ever since they started doing raffles. You’ve been working with your company, one of the largest corporate tech companies in Japan, for five years now, so you hoped that your boss would see your skills and work ethic to allow you the responsibility to travel.

Really, it was mostly because you were desperate to get out of your home for a while, whether it was a local trip or one overseas. You’ve heard of trips in the U.S. and some in the U.K. and only dreamed of traveling there. When your boss announced to you a month ago that you were chosen for the business trip to a local career convention for the next four days, you were ecstatic. You immediately began packing as soon as you got home.

Your boss and his team wanted to ensure that you were absolutely and completely comfortable during your stay for the remainder of your business trip. They paid for everything: the Airbnb you’ll be staying in for the next three days; the train ticket; the food stocked up in the freezer and fridge; and the prepaid Visa card loaded with $550 that will allow you to buy whatever you wish and not have to constantly put your own money down.

So far, you were living. The schedule you currently had consisted of trips to the convention center in the city from 11 PM to 3 PM to talk to potential buyers, clients, and hires about the company. After 3 PM, you were free to do whatever you wanted. Not to mention you’re being paid $35 an hour, even for the hours you weren’t working! You couldn’t have asked for a better trip. You hit the fucking jackpot.

“Yo, Geto!” a familiar voice annoyingly yells from inside the house. “Where’d the fuck you put my shorts? I told you don’t move my shit!”

You heavily sigh, annoyed. Well, you almost hit the jackpot. Take away the two inside that you’re forced to work with this week and you would’ve been perfect. “I told you, I don’t have your fuckin’ shorts, Gojo,” another voice, deeper than the other, growled. “Try lookin’ outside. You might’ve hung ‘em up.”

“Oh, no,” you groan, wishing neither one of them would come outside and ruin your “me time”. You haven’t had much time to yourself since you got here since you’ve been preparing for presentations at the convention fair and sitting in on meetings with your boss wanting to check up on you. Plus, with them constantly wandering throughout the house, you’ve been less comfortable exploring the Airbnb.

Just your luck, both of them come waltzing out of the sliding door that leads to the backyard and the home’s personal hot springs where you currently sit. “I told you they’re not– oh, look, Geto! She finally decided to grace us with her presence.”

Gojo’s teasing pisses you off for some reason, but you refuse to give in and look at him. It isn’t worth it. They aren’t worth it. “C’mon, ‘Toru, leave her alone,” Geto grumbles. “You can clearly see she’s relaxing.”

“And I can hear you,” you sharply reply. “You two aren’t very discreet. Or quiet.” You slowly open your eyes to regard your two coworkers, but you instantly regret it. Though they are both extremely annoying with their loud mouths and disregard for relaxation time, what makes them even more annoying is how fucking fine they are.

First, there’s Gojo Satoru. Cocky, arrogant, and too easy-going for your liking. He is incredibly smart to have gotten the job he does (he’s in a department much higher than yours), but he barely does his work and takes lunch breaks way longer than he’s supposed to, which he also tries to get you to go on. He’s also a huge flirt. It gets annoying watching him flirt with every single girl that walks into your department from your cubicle, his charm coming off dickish to you. The guy is a slut! He knows exactly how to get a woman with his silver hair, Colgate smile, and intense blue eyes.

And then there’s Geto Suguru. He is the complete opposite of Gojo, but he is equally as arrogant and annoying. Though you’ve never seen him flirt in front of you, he comes off as a know-it-all during meetings and like he’s much better than everyone, including the higher-ups. He is just as handsome as Gojo with his long, black locks that he often wears in buns and ponytails, strong jaw, and deep, black eyes.

You’ve had the displeasure of sitting with both Gojo and Geto during meetings and working with them on a few projects throughout the years but with other people. This is the first time you’ve been assigned to work with them one-on-two. Not to mention being in the same space as them for longer than a day.

The first day you came here was manageable since you sat in a different seat than them on the train and most of the day was spent at the convention center. The night it was over, you made a beeline for your bedroom and never came back out. It was good that you did too because those two are so fucking loud. If it wasn’t them arguing, it was them playing music. If it wasn’t music, it was the TV playing too loud.

You know you can’t spend the rest of the trip like that. But them being so damn hot doesn’t make your situation any better. They’re both tall, standing at six foot something, and have their own set of muscles. While Gojo is a bit slimmer and sinewy with muscle, Geto is much thicker in terms of body mass and muscle with broad shoulders and a six-pack you could bake cookies on.

The truth is that you’re very attractive to them. How could you not be? You just adore big men! And everything about them is big to you: big hands, big feet, big everything. You’ve had to force yourself to look away from their crotches many times when you’ve caught them in their tight-ass work slacks. Even at your height in heels, they stand a head taller than you which intensely turns you on.

But you’ll never tell them that or even allude to it. You’ve watched many of your female coworkers flirt with them, give them their cake, and then get shot down later. You don’t need that kind of distraction or drama in your life. You made a vow to yourself to stay away from dating and fucking coworkers. ‘Just stick to your work,’ you’ve told yourself. ‘Just stick to your goals.’

No matter how much Gojo’s laugh makes your heart pound. No matter how badly you want to feel Geto’s big arms wrapped around you. No matter how much you want to feel their hands and lips all over your body. You can’t do it. You have too much to lose fooling around with men like them.

“Sorry to bother you,” Geto says, actually sounding sorry about it, “but Gojo just left his shorts and he won’t shut up about ‘em.” He looks mildly annoyed while Gojo is panicking. “Have you seen ‘em?” he urgently asks. “They’re Calvin Klein? Red?”

“Haven’t seen ‘em,” you deadpan, “but there is a washer machine in the basement. Maybe you left ‘em there.” Gojo whines, running his hands down his face. “They’re the only good ones I bought! The other pair is too tight on me.” You make a noise of disgust, pushing away the thought of Gojo in some tight-ass swim trunks, the outline of his bulge on display. “I didn’t need to know that.”

Geto hides a laugh while Gojo gives you a glare. “Oh, so sorry,” he mockingly says. “What are you doin’ out and about anyway? You were in your room all day before when we weren’t working.”

You glare back at him, not at all liking his tone. And mostly, because he’s right: as soon as you were done at the fair, you hid in your room, unpacked, and chowed down on the complementary snacks and wine stored in your room all afternoon. When the evening finally came, you snuck downstairs into the kitchen while Gojo and Geto played pool in the basement and grabbed yourself a slice of the pizza they ordered earlier that day, and the snacks and water bottles stored in the fridge.

“That’s none of your business,” you curtly say to him, “but I was tired. My bed was too comfortable to leave.” Gojo hums in agreement. “I feel that,” he sighs. “Whoever decided to put that mattress in my room needs either get their dick sucked or their pussy eaten.” You scoff in disgust to yourself, shaking your head at his brazenness. “By you?” Ghetto asks, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

“With the right amount of whiskey is me, sure!” Gojo laughs, wiggling his silver eyebrows at him. Geto shoves him hard, earning another goofy laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” he scoffs before turning back to you still in the heated water. “Look, we’ll leave you alone so you can enjoy yourself. Gojo was supposed to help me cook dinner like he was promised he would last night.” He side-eyes his friend. “That’s why I had to order pizza.”

“I told you I was unpacking!” Gojo argues, but Geto’s fixed stare never fades. You attempt to not laugh by biting your lip, humored by their dynamic. Gojo is like the chaotic younger brother while Geto reminds you of a more dignified and mature older brother.

“Fine,” Gojo groans, craning his neck back, “but you’d better help me find these shorts. And I’m not cuttin’ no vegetables either.”

He purposely bumps Geto’s hip as he walks back into the house, keeping the sliding door open as he does. Geto turns to you, his facial expression unreadable and slightly offputting due to the fact that you can’t identify it. Why does he have to be so goddamn mysterious? “Enjoy yourself,” he says before disappearing back inside the house, shutting the door behind him.

“Thanks,” you quietly say to yourself. You are now finally left alone to your own devices, which is what you wanted all along…right?

When the sound of chirping birds and rustling trees comes back to you, you decide that yes, you do want this. A few minutes after taking a long soak, you grow tired of the water and are in need of some sun. You pull yourself out of the hot springs and swipe your bikini off of the lounge chair sitting by the brink where you have your tote bag.

Making sure the guys aren’t around, you change and lay a towel out on the chair before settling down, lying back, and laying your sunglasses on your eyes. Then you reach for your MacBook Air and balance it on your knees, proceeding to get some work done in time for tomorrow. You also take a few sips of the wine you poured for yourself earlier until the entire glass is empty.

Your productivity doesn’t last for long. The sounds of nature are so peaceful and pretty and the wine is so strong that you find yourself drifting off to sleep. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, your laptop still in your lap. The sun warms your face and the water continues to bubble, serving as some amazing ambiance for you.

It is a short nap, however; one that you’re not too happy about. You are rudely awakened half an hour later by the music blasting from inside the house, the bass jumping and pounding in your ears. Irritation flares within you as you sit up, tearing the sunglasses off your face.

‘These two,’ you think, annoyed and angered. These emotions only increase when you hear Gojo’s shrill laughter over the music. Don’t they have any kind of sense or respect?

“Oh, my Gooood!” you growl, your frustration reaching astronomical heights. You toss your laptop off of you and into the seat as you get up and storm over to the house. You pound on the glass door with your hand before yanking it open, the music nearly destroying your eardrums. “Would you turn that fuckin’ shit down?!” you holler into the living room. “I’m tryin’ to fuckin’ sleep here! Goddamn!”

You’re so angry that you don’t even see Gojo and Geto’s shocked expressions as they crouch near the stereo near the TV, trying in vain to fix the volume. Before they can say anything, you slam the door shut and storm back over to your chair where you dig into your bag for your earbuds. Once you find them, you shove them in your ears, turn up the Jhene Aiko song you had paused from the train ride, and desperately try to get your sleep back.

Surprisingly enough, you do, but only because the music coming from the house is successfully cut off. You don’t realize it though because you’re knocked out. When Gojo finds you, you’re sprawled out on the lounge chair in your white bikini, mouth open and shades on. You don’t realize what he’s doing to you until you feel his hand brush your leg.

You startle awake, finding him standing above you like a handsome eclipse. You flinch at his touch, alarmed and confused. “W-What are you–”

“Relax, princess,” he chuckles. “I was just puttin’ this on you so you weren’t layin’ here in your bikini.” He nods down at the towel he placed on your body. “You never know what kind of animals or creeps are sneakin’ around here.”

He juts his chin towards the trees and brush that stretch for miles, giving way to nothing but wilderness. You realize now that you fell asleep in your bikini, completely exposed to anyone…including your coworkers. “Geto is finished dinner,” Gojo says, ignorant to your utter embarrassment as you clutch the towel to your body. “We got steak, steamed vegetables, and brown rice if you want some.”

He is shrouded in darkness, similar to the trees surrounding you as the sun sets on the summer day. The heat has subsided somewhat but the sticky humidity is still in the air. The sky above is painted with twilight and cotton candy clouds that stretch across the blue canvas. How long have you been asleep?

You are speechless, just staring at Gojo and wondering what the hell is happening. “T-That’s okay,” you softly stammer. “I’m gonna eat a little later.” He shrugs, stretching his muscled arms over his head. “Suit yourself. By the way, sorry about the music.”

You continue to stare up at him blankly. “Huh?” you dumbly ask, your mind still hazy from your nap.

He snickers at you, making you flush even more. “The music from earlier,” he clarifies. “We tried turnin’ it down, but the stereo broke. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound that mad…or be that loud.”

He adverts his eyes from yours as if he’s ashamed to look at you. It confuses you. Does he feel bad or something? While he certainly should because he ruined your relaxation time, you can’t help but feel a strange tug in your stomach at the sight of his eyes–so downtrodden and void of that usual glint in them.

“Anyway!” he exclaims, putting on a smile. “I’ll tell Geto to save you a plate.” He leaves you sitting there before you can say even say anything. Once he’s gone, you sit back in your chair and bring the towel up to your chin.

“Dammit,” you sigh, feeling guilt twist in your gut. Maybe you were a little too harsh earlier. After all, you were drinking and that heavily influences your behavior. You know you’ve been standoffish and cold to both of your coworkers this entire trip, and yet despite that, Gojo still came out to make sure you were okay and Geto still fixed you a plate. Maybe you could give some of that kindness back.

After swallowing your pride, you wrap yourself in the towel to cover your body, gather your things into your bag, and venture into the house to find your coworkers. As soon as you hear Gojo’s big ass mouth, you find them in the beautifully-decorated kitchen with its black granite counters and hardwood floors.

Geto stands at the stove with his back to you, his muscles flexing beneath his black tee, while Gojo sits at the kitchen island chomping down on his steak in his Crocs and white crop top that exposes his hard abs. You do your best to ignore the butterflies swarming in your stomach at the sight of them.

“Hey,” you call from the threshold of the kitchen. They instantly stop what they’re doing to look at you, looking almost shocked that you’re standing in front of them. Nervously, you fiddle with the strap to your bag. “Um…the water is really nice if you two wanna go in. I’m finished and just doin’ work if you want any room.”

Gojo practically drops his fork. “Hot springs just for us?” he excitedly says. “Fuck yes! I’ve been waiting to get a taste of this.” Geto turns and leans against the edge of the counter, revealing the apron he’s wearing. It only makes him sexier to you. “Same here. I was so exhausted after yesterday that I never got a chance to. I was hopin’ to get some time today since the fair was so early this morning.”

“Now I really have to look for these shorts,” Gojo announces before jumping out of his seat and zooming past you for the stairs. You watch him, quietly giggling to yourself. When you turn back to Geto, he’s already staring at you. “So you’re okay with us bein’ out there with you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

The question perplexes you. “Why wouldn’t I be?” you ask, confused. He crosses his big arms over his broad chest, making your throat go dry. “Well, you just act like you don’t wanna be bothered by us. I mean, don’t get it twisted: I like alone time, too, especially in a place like this.” His words make the guilt churning in your stomach even worse. Have you been making them feel like this the entire time you’ve been here?

‘Well, of course, stupid!’ your subconscious screams at you. ‘You barely talk to them or hang out with them, even when they’re in the same room as you! What did you expect?’

You would’ve thought that them taking a hint would make you feel accomplished, but all it does is make you feel weird. And not in a good way. Realizing you’ve been silent for too long, you scramble to answer Geto. “I was gonna go to my room to make a call,” you lie. “And it’s not that I don’t wanna be bothered by you guys, but…”

Your brain does mental gymnastics trying to find a logical explanation for your behavior towards them: ‘Because I’m introverted’? ‘Because I’m shy’? ‘Because I’m sexually attracted to you both and being around you makes me wanna tear off your clothes and shove your dicks in my face?’

Gojo’s hard footsteps coming tumbling down the steps again, so hard that the hardwood steps creak. “I found my shorts!” he happily announces, presenting his red swim trunks to you and Geto. At the sight of you standing in the kitchen, his smile fades. “Uh…am I interrupting somethin’?”

Geto glances at you before looking back at his clueless friend. “Nah,” he immediately replies. “We were just talkin’ about the water. Supposedly, its minerals strip you of all the dirt in your pores.” He walks across the threshold of the kitchen to walk past you, giving you a whiff of his cologne and the spicy scent of cinnamon. It makes you clench your thighs together.

As he walks up to Geto, he gives him a smirk. “You could use a dip,” he chuckles before running out to the hot springs with Gojo right behind him, calling him all kinds of bitches and hoes. Being left alone in the house allows you to breathe and you lean against the kitchen wall, calming your pounding heart. ‘Why do they have to be so goddamn fine?’ you think in anguish.

Once you compose yourself, you take the plate Geto wrapped in foil from the stove and slink into your bedroom to eat. The food is orgasm-worthy, to say the least. The steak is the right amount of juicy and tender to your liking, the vegetables are crisp, and the rice is warm and hearty.

Geto is an incredible cook. And he’s incredibly sweet. What gets you is the fact that he saved a plate for you despite you not sparing him so much as a glance for the past two days you’ve been here. Neither one of your coworkers is half bad, you realize when you finish your dinner. Though they’re loud and chaotic, they’re also very sweet and personable.

It is this fact that gives you the courage to swallow your pride and return to the hot springs when you hear Gojo and Geto chatting and splashing about outside your window. You make sure your towel is wrapped tight around your body before you take a deep breath and venture back downstairs to the backyard.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the sheer sexiness that is currently occupying the hot springs in the set of two. All you see are pecs, abs, and muscles on muscles along with a few scatterings of tattoos on tanned skin dripping with water. Gojo has a few tattoos you can see on his collarbone, neck, and lower hipbone while Geto only has one–a large, red dragon on his back that curls over his shoulder blades.

With the way the steam rises from the water to surround your coworkers, it reminds you of a raunchy romance book cover that you see in airports and grocery stores. You’re already considering this to be a bad idea with how reactive your body is to them–your heartbeat begins to accelerate; your body temperature rises; your pussy jumps excitedly.

But it’s too late to turn around and go inside when Gojo notices you standing there, a glass of wine in his hand. “Oh, and she returns!” he teases, his crystal blue eyes peering up at you from over the steam. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Your Majesty?” Geto, settled on the rocks with his big feet in the water, rolls his eyes. “Ignore him. You want a puff?” You then notice the blunt settled between his thumb and forefinger.

You shake your head as you slowly walk around the pool of water to the other side, as far away from them as possible. “I’m good,” you softly decline. Gojo gives you a smirk as he sips his wine. “Why? Too scared?” Geto splashes water at him with his foot. “‘Tarou,” he criticizes, “don’t be a dick.” You don’t let Geto’s teasing bother you though, simply smirking at him as you settle down on a rock. “I don’t really smoke like that. Plus, isn’t smoking prohibited here?” You slide down to stick your feet in, sighing at the warm water caressing your feet.

Gojo snickers at you, giving you a mischievous wink. “Only in the house, according to the rulebook, but they’ll never know we smoked out here.” With that said, he wanders farther into the water, softly moaning at the feeling. The sound makes your stomach flip. “Ah, shit, that feels good,” he sighs as he leans back against a nearby rock, his eyes fluttering closed. You can’t help but notice how long his lashes are.

Geto does the same, sliding down the rocks and keeping his arm up to spare his blunt. Once the water hits his body, he lets out a deep moan that lights a fire in you too. “Mmm, it sure does,” he sighs. Noticing you from across the way, he smirks at you. “You sure you don’t wanna join us? The pool is big enough for another person if you want another dip.”

The sound of another dip in the warm water sounds heavenly, especially with the ache you feel in your neck. But you shake your head, already coming up with a good excuse that doesn’t involve jumping their bones. “I got my dip already, thanks. If I get in again, I’ll fall asleep and I need to check these emails for–”

Gojo cuts you off with a groan. “That’s all you ever fuckin’ do is work!” he whines, scowling at you from across the way. You scoff, rolling your eyes at the man-child. “Not true,” you argue. “I have a life outside of work, thank you very much.” You turn away to look at the swaying trees, ignoring the flush Gojo’s scoff causes you. “Shit, you could’ve fooled me.”

Geto chuckles to himself, making you gap at him. “You think so too?” you ask, shocked. The long-haired man shrugs, puffing on his blunt. “It’s just weird to see you not behind a desk,” he chortles. He cocks his head to the side, his eyes intense. “Actually, I think this is the first time I’ve actually seen you out of your work fits, now that I think about it.”

You cross your legs in the water, paranoid that he can see up your towel. “It’s a nice change though. You could use some relaxation.” You raise both brows at his gull. “Me?” you parrot incredulously. “I could use it?”

“You think nobody notices how tense you are?” Geto asks, humored. “With the way the boss works you out, I’m shocked you haven’t had a breakdown yet. Everybody talks about how good you are though.” You don’t know if he’s lying but his words make you blush regardless. "Yeah, you know your shit,” Gojo agrees, pouring himself more expensive wine. “It’s a shame you’re so uptight though.”

You gape at him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Did he just…?

“I am not uptight,” you scoff, offended. “It’s not my fault I give a shit about my work and my reputation around the office.” You purse your lips at the white-haired man, judging him with your eyes. “You date much?”

You don’t know if it’s the steam creating the illusion but you believe you see Gojo blush. “She’s got you there, man,” Geto chuckles, puffing on his blunt. Gojo gives him the finger before turning back to him. “First of all, I can’t help it if my coworkers find me attractive. And second of all…are you okay?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, why?” Gojo cocks his head to the side, looking worried. “You’ve been rubbing your neck for the past five minutes. What, you thought we didn’t notice?”

You now realize that you’ve been, in fact, rubbing the back of your neck. You didn’t even realize it. Quickly, you snatch your hand away. “It’s just a crick. I’m fine.” You crane your neck back in an attempt to ease the ache but that only makes it worse and you bite back a whimper of pain.

“You’re definitely not fine,” Geto replies, sounding concerned. Seeing both their eyes enveloped in concern for you makes you want to hide away. “You’re the frontman for our company!” Gojo exclaims. “You think I can stand there and talk to people?” You quirk a smile at him, deciding to be witty even when you’re in discomfort. “If you tried.”

Gojo crookedly smiles at you, making your stomach flip-flop. Goddammit. “Get in the water, Y/N,” Geto firmly says, putting his blunt up on an ashtray near the rocks. “C’mon, we don’t bite.” He, too, gives you a crooked smile that has you thinking less than holy things. “Unless you want us to,” Gojo adds, suggestively raising his brows at you.

You know that this is a very bad idea. The fact that you can’t foresee what could happen if you decide to take up their offer and soak with them is one that rubs you the wrong way. How can you be so sure that things won’t take a wrong turn if you do this?

But seeing the way your coworkers are looking at you, so worried despite being semi-naked and wet, is making you want to throw caution to the wind and say ‘fuck it’. Finally, after assessing your options, you decide. “Whatever,” you huff passively, “but only until my neck stops hurting.”

You don’t look at them as you gently climb down the rock so you don’t see the look Gojo and Geto share, calling BS on your comment. When you slide down into the water, your body immediately responds positively to the hot, bubbling water. The ache in your neck is immediately eased as are your tired muscles. “Mmm, wow,” you groan.

“Right?” Gojo chuckles in agreement, taking an empty glass from beside the wine bottle. “It feels much better at this time of day, don’t it? You want a glass?” You know you shouldn’t take the glass from him but the wine just looks too crisp and cold to refuse. And it is crisp and cold, and has hints of fresh fruit, when you take a sip. Then you are taking three, then four, then five.

Before you know it, you are gravitating faaaaar away from your original spot at the end of the hot springs pool until you’re about arm’s length away from both Gojo and Geto. The wine works quickly, making you feel warm and bold. Bold enough to side-eye the blunt that is settled in Gojo’s fingers now as smoke puffs from between his pink lips. “Actually, pass that over here,” you say before you can stop yourself. But you’re here to relax, right? Might as well do it right.

Gojo and Geto share a look of shock. “I thought you said you don’t smoke like that,” Geto says, a humorous smirk on his face as Gojo passes you the blunt.

You carefully take it between your forefinger and thumb. “I don’t, but this is the first business trip I’ve had. Might as well celebrate.” You take a short puff, letting the smoke fill your lungs, before exhaling, the tickle in your throat making you cough.

Gojo laughs as you cough and you flip him off. “Oooh, I like this side of you,” he teases. “Not that your princess-y attitude isn’t a turn-on either though.” You take another puff before passing the blunt back to Gojo.

“So you think I’m stuck up?” you ask, cocking your head to the side. Gojo shares a nervous look with Geto who just shrugs. “Not…entirely,” he carefully replies.

You gap at him, gobsmacked. So it’s true! “We’ve just never seen you really talk to anyone before, including us!” he quickly adds. “You should hear what others say about you.”

Though you don’t want to know, you hate how you care. Especially how much of that has influenced these two and their thoughts of you. “I’m not stuck up just because I don’t date coworkers,” you scoff indignantly. "I just don’t need that type of drama, especially from you two.”

Geto raises an eyebrow, not looking irked but more curious at your jab. “What does that mean?” he asks. You don’t know if it’s the weed or the wine starting to talk, but it’s fucking screaming with every bold word you utter. “It means I’ve heard a bit about you two from the women around the office. You both get around.”

The two look at each other and begin to laugh, making your body flush hot in the water. “Hey, if the opportunity comes to have some fun, I’m gonna take it,” Gojo chuckles, flashing you a white-toothed smile. “And for the record, I’ve dated coworkers that weren’t just hookups but real, genuine relationships.”

Geto nods as he passes his white-haired friend the blunt. “Same here. But you can’t stop two people from findin’ each other attractive or one not deciding to embark on a romantic relationship. Sex is just sex for some.”

You avert your gaze, not sure if you should even respond or allow yourself to partake in this convo. How’d you even get here? Geto takes your silence for a different perspective though. “You don’t agree?” he asks as he sips his wine, his pink lips now wet from the liquid in his glass. You quickly snap your eyes back up to his face. “It’s not that I don’t, but you’d might as well not date coworkers at all if all you’re lookin’ for is casual sex.”

“So you’ve never dated anyone at work before?” Geto asks, sounding shocked, smoke billowing from his lips. “Not even before workin’ for this company?” He passes you the blunt again, but you’re not sure if you should hit again. You’re already feeling light and slightly dazed from it. “No,” you answer truthfully. “That just…isn’t me. I’m way more focused on my work.”

You pass the blunt back to Gojo who passes it to Geto. “Then you need to get unfocused and relax yourself,” he encourages, smiling crookedly at you. “And I know a perfect way that isn’t just with weed. Who’s up for a game of truth or dare?” He gives you reach a mischievous smile, a gleam in his eye.

Geto stares at him in disbelief. “What are we, twelve?” he scoffs. Gojo glares at him, splashing water at him. “If you don’t wanna play, you don’t have to, dickhead,” he scoffs. “Y/N and I will happily play a game and leave you out of it. Won’t we, Y/N?”

You don’t know what it is that makes you give in. Perhaps it is the warmth of the water or the wine or the soft, almost pleading look in Geto and Gojo’s eyes trying to get you to chill. But defeatedly you do. “Fuck it,” you sigh, throwing all caution to the wind. “Let’s play a round.”

Surprisingly, your agreement influences Geto too as he places his blunt up on the ashtray. “Whatever; I guess I’ll play, too.” He leans back against a large rock, tossing one big arm over it, giving you a good look at the water cascading down his broad chest.

Geto claps excitedly. “Now it’s a party!” he excitedly cheers. “We’ll start with me and then go around. So, Geto, truth or dare?” Geto's dark eyes cut over to you through the steam rising from the water, making your heart leap. “Dare.” The white-haired hottie turns to give you a mischievous smirk. “I dare you to do one lap around this pool naked.” You and Geto blink at him dumbly. “You’re kidding,” you both say in unison. But Geto is deadass, staring his friend down and daring him to say no.

“Fuck you,” Geto growls, but gets out of the pool regardless. You watch as he does, unable to keep your eyes off of his big, wet body and muscles that ripple and flex as he moves. When he is finally out of the pool, he stands with his back to you and begins to take off his trunks. When he finally takes them down his waist, it just about causes a nosebleed when you get an eyeful of his tight yet plump and toned ass, slightly paler than the rest of his tanned body. You don’t even want to see what his dick looks like. Luckily, he keeps his hands cupped over his junk as he begins to do a lap around the pool, much to his dislike and Gojo’s amusement.

You’re unable to laugh, still staring at his ass. It’s just so plump and squeezable and– “He’s got a nice ass, right?” Gojo whispers, suddenly beside you. He stares you down with those crystal blue eyes, making your mind go blank. “It’s okay; you can look. I don’t mind sharin’ the view. You should try seein’ it every single night like me.” He gives you a wink that makes you realize what he’s saying. “Wait��are you–”

“Dating?” he finishes, chuckling at your shock. “Don’t tell him I said that. We’re still keepin’ it on the low.” This newfound information only confuses you more. So if they’re dating, are they also dating other people? Do they do so separately or together? And what about the sex? And how come this hasn’t spilled to the work departments? You’re sure there is someone at work that has been with both of them if this is the case. Sex…with both of them. The idea makes you feel strangely hot.

You’re so dissociated that you don’t even realize that Geto has gotten back into the pool…without his trunks. You find them drying on a nearby lounge chair. ‘Oh, God,’ you lament to yourself. ‘Why is this happening to me?’

“Happy now?” Geto gruffly asks his coworker…and boyfriend, apparently. “You just wanted to see my dick, probably.” Gojo just smiles and turns his attention to you. “Your turn, Y/N.” Against your better judgment, you take your glass of wine and take a sip. “Gojo, truth or dare?” you ask.

Geto gives him his signature, lazy smirk. “Dare.” You swish the wine around in your glass, thinking of a good dare that isn’t dirty or won’t make your clit jump at the sight of his body. “I dare you to…drink the hot springs water.” The white-haired hottie laughs, waving a passive hand. “What? Too scared?” you challenge, smirking at him. Gojo’s eyes widen an inch, shocked at your gall. That’s all it takes for him to crumble. After gulping, he bravely dips his head down into the water and takes a sip. Geto gags in disgust while you hysterically laugh. Poor Gojo comes up seconds later and swallows every ounce of the water, looking positively sickly afterward. “How do we taste, ‘Toru?” Geto snickers, earning a splash in the face.

“Your turn, Sugu,” you say and then flush, realizing what you just said. Geto doesn’t seem to realize it though, and if he does, he doesn’t say anything. “Y/N, truth or dare?” He asks, his deep voice like a rumble beneath the surface of your desire. “Truth,” you say, earning a scoff of pure disgust from Gojo.

“How come you don’t like us?” he bluntly asks. You blink at him, wondering if he’s joking, but he’s deadass. His fixed stare tells you so. It’s such a random question that it takes you a moment to process it. “What?”

“How come you don’t like us?” he repeats, fixing you with a very intense stare. Gojo does the same, his eyes locking with yours from across the water. “I wanna know that too, actually.” You’re frozen, unable to think, speak or move. You weren't expecting this. “You’re puttin’ me on the spot?” you scoff, irritated by Geto’s question. “What, was this a setup?” Geto scoffs as he takes a short puff of his blunt, smoke billowing from his soft, plump lips. “You set yourself up for that one, mama. So you gonna answer it or what?”

He cocks his head to the side, his eyes slits that barely move from yours. Gojo continues to stare at you, both silently and patiently waiting for you to answer. It is as if the water got ten times hotter. You don’t want to answer, but you also know that they’ll probably keep pestering you about it and remind you that this is part of the game. “No, I don’t dislike you,” you defeatedly sigh. “What gave you the impression that I don’t?” Geto is happy to enlighten you. “Well, for one, you never really wanna talk to us, you’ve barely said anything to us on this trip–”

“And you’ve been hidin’ away in your bedroom since yesterday,” Gojo adds. “I mean, my social battery can run low too, believe it or not, but we’re startin’ to think you hate our guts.” Though he says it jokingly, you can tell from the saddened look in his eyes that he means it. Guilt twists in your gut and you officially feel like the bitchiest person in the world.

“I don’t,” you say apologetically. “And I’m sorry about earlier when I yelled…and that I’ve been actin’ like a bitch. I just don’t hang with coworkers too much. It’s not my thing, like dating. I find a lot of the people I work with to be…” You trail off, searching for the right words that the alcohol and weed are making especially difficult to do.

“Annoying?” Geto offers.

“Fuckin’ insufferable?” Gojo asks. “Or maybe that’s just our department.”

You giggle softly at their comments. “No, and no. But people don’t really talk to me too much anyway because I’m, as you say, ‘uptight’.” Gojo raises a curious eyebrow at you. “And you’re okay with that?”

You stare down at the water, not wanting either of them to see the downtrodden look in your eyes. While you’d love be more social at work, you also know that this is probably for the best. “If it means I won’t have anyone backstab me and destroy my rep at work, then yeah. It’s not like I don’t have friends though, but I don’t do dating.” It sounds absolutely pathetic, but you just can’t have anyone distracting you from your work or have you get caught up in the realm of workplace drama. If that means missing out on meeting someone nice or possibly catching some dick despite every other woman in your department doing the same thing and being left out of the conversation, then so be it.

Geto hums like that is damn shame. “That’s too bad,” Gojo tuts, “because the motherfucker who manages to scoop you up would be lucky.”

If a record scratch had any place in the conversation, it would be now. As soon as your ears catch Gojo’s words, your eyes widen and your heart skips several beats. ‘Da fuck?’ you think, confused. Where the hell did that come from? And why the fuck was it so damn smooth?

You stare at Gojo who stares at you right back, completely confident and incredibly intense. “You’re lookin’ at me like you can’t believe what I just said,” he comments, cocking his head to the side. "You really don’t see how fuckin’ pretty you are? That’s a damn shame ‘cause you absolutely are.” He sips his wine like he didn’t just say those incredibly flirtatious and random ass words. Like he didn’t just make your heart pound and your stomach jump.

Your eyes flit to Geto and he’s giving you the same look that Gojo is: flirtatious; intense; extremely unfriendly. He looks like he wants to dick you down from where you’re sitting. Right then you feel the tension in the air return, but this time, it’s fueled by sexual energy and feelings unexplored and unacknowledged. Until now, that is. You grip your towel tighter to you, staring down at the water instead of your coworkers’ unyielding gazes. “Y-You’re just sayin’ that,” you laugh incredulously to yourself.

“Oh, are we?” Gojo challenges, causing you to nervously bite your lip. “Geto, truth or dare?” You don’t know why you look up, but you do, finding Geto’s eyes still targeting you. “Dare,” he replies, his voice but a deep growl. You swear your pussy turns into a goddamn heartbeat. Gojo smirks at you from behind his wine glass, a mischievous gleam in his icy blues. “I dare you to kiss Y/N.”

You blink at him dumbly, his challenge slowly processing in your head. “W-What?” you squeak. You look to Geto, hoping he’ll be just as confused and alarmed as you, but instead, he’s still looking at you like he wants every single piece of you. “You don’t have to dare me to do that,” he softly growls.

Suddenly, faster than your mind can process it, he is standing in the water and making his way over to you, his big, muscled body on full display…including what lies down below. You nearly forgot he is completely naked now after completing Gojo’s dare.

Though you can’t see him beneath the dark surface of the water, you can see his dark happy trail and toned stomach leading down the dark patch of curls where his cock is. You picture it being long and thick, just swinging like a pendulum between his thick, three-trunk legs. His long, black hair cascades down his broad shoulders in wet waves like snakes as water droplets drip down every inch of his skin. You find yourself wanting to lick each one off.

You know you should stop this. You should call it off and get out of the water. But something inside of you–that rebellious, raging fire inside of you–stops you from moving, even as Geto is finally in front of him. Though he is close enough that you can smell his scent–like vanilla and cinnamon–and feel the warmth radiating off of him, he gives you enough space to leave if you wish or even push him away. He is still patient and considerate of how you feel.

You’ve never felt so…taken care of. That's the right term, isn’t it? You’re too stoned and tipsy to think about it.

Geto peers down at you with those violet eyes that make you feel like you’re waltzing through a field of lavender. “Are you okay with this, sweetheart?” he whispers, concern in his eyes. “Just tell us to stop if you don’t want this.”

You shouldn't want this. You shouldn't want to have any part in this mess. But you find yourself silently nodding. He then cups one of his big hands against your face, making your eyes flutter closed from the pleasure his touch evokes inside of you.

And then his lips are on yours. His kiss has to be one of the best ones you’ve ever had in your life. It’s a kiss you can only find in Disney movies or storybooks: magical; tender; it sweeps you right off your feet. And yet it is so sensual and seductive, his lips seducing you with every single slow movement against yours.

Gojo takes his other hand to cup the other side of your face, holding you in place as his kiss deepens. At some point, you feel his tongue lick tantalizingly at your bottom lip, silently asking for access. You allow it to him and his tongue swirls with yours, creating sloppy, suckling sounds that make your pussy clench beneath the water. He tastes of Moscato.

Finally, he pulls away, but doesn’t stray too far from your lips. “Truth or dare?” he asks you, his voice low and breathless.

You’re breathing heavy, your mind blank and dizzy from the kiss. You almost ask him to repeat himself. “Dare,” you hear yourself answer.

Gojo presses another long, deep kiss against your lips as if you can't get enough. “I dare you to kiss Gojo,” he says in a low, lustful tone. You nearly get whiplash with how fast you turn to look at Gojo.

He is already moving in close, a hungered look in his eyes. “Shit, I’ve been waitin’ for this for years,” he exhales before his lips cover yours. While his kiss is still just as intoxicating and swoon-worthy as Geto’s, his is also rougher; wetter. He teases and plays with you, nipping at your bottom lip with his teeth and swirling his tongue around with yours, even sucking on it slightly.

It feels oh-so good. You find yourself grasping at Gojo’s broad shoulders, running your hands down his biceps. You feel his hands move to hold your waist, never once going under the towel, but your body tenses as if he does. Though you want to melt into this kiss and take whatever Gojo gives you, at the back of your mind, you’re still apprehensive of where this could go. You can’t believe any of this is happening.

Gojo notices this and moans disapprovingly against your lips before pulling away. “You’re so tense, babe,” he coos, concern in his blue eyes. You look down at the rippling water, hoping to gather your thoughts if you look away from him. “Is this too much?” Geto worriedly asks, his deep voice from behind you causing your heart to flutter. “Do you want us to stop?”

The fact that their concern for your comfort makes you wet––and not at all from the water at this point. Despite you currently being sandwiched between two very big and buff men who could certainly make you do whatever they wish, they don’t and you’ve never felt safer.

You also feel quite fearful of that feeling and the desire to let go. How can you be sure it won’t lead somewhere else? What if you indulge in these inhibitive desires now and regret them later? What if your coworkers find out? Then you’d be the talk of all departments.

‘Fuck it.’ The thought comes to your mind like a bat out of hell. At the moment, you don't care about anyone or anything else except for the two men occupying your space. You don’t care about anything except quenching your thirst and easing the throbbing between your legs. You don't care about tomorrow–just now.

You turn to Gojo, boldly staring into his eyes. “Did you really mean that?” you softly ask. “Have you really wanted to kiss me for years?”

Gojo’s eyes widen an inch over the random question, but he doesn’t neglect to answer you. “We both have, princess. We’ve been pining after you for a long time now.” His honesty makes your heart leap.

"We just never said anything ‘cause we figured the damage was done,” Geto explains. “You know how word gets around the workplace about employees’ personal sex lives. It’s like a locker room in that bitch.”

“And just in case you’re wondering, you’re the first coworker we’ve ever been with like…this…with,” Gojo adds. Geto side-eyes him to which Gojo grins guilty at him. “Yes, I alluded to us dating. You won’t tell anyone though, will you, sweetheart?” But you’re silent, too busy trying to understand what Gojo meant. “This?” you inquire, confused.

“What Gojo means is we’ve never shared the same partner from work,” Geto explains. “Usually, when we have sex with a coworker, it’s something we do individually and not together. If we do happen have a threesome or something like that, it’s just a hookup from the club or the bar.” The gears in your head are slowly starting to process. “So you have an open relationship?” you curiously ask.

“It’s just something that always worked for us,” Geto explains. “We agreed that we wanted to keep things lowkey for the time being, so whatever we do with the people at work stays between us and them. However, when we’re alone, it’s us and only us. But being with you has made us want different. Something real and not on the low…if that’s what you want too.”

They both stare you down, silent and patient but their eyes scream desire and tenderness. Two things you’re craving for right now. However, Geto takes your silence for discomfort. “We should stop. I don’t wanna overwhelm her or–”

“Change my mind,” you blurt. The two stare at you confusedly.

“Sorry?” Geto asks, coaxing you to repeat yourself. You’re more than happy to do so, moving closer to him as you do. “You said you never told me how you felt because of how I thought about you two ‘cause of the rumors. If you’re not what our coworkers say you are and if it’s true that you feel this way about me, then change. My. Mind.”

That is all the two need to hear. They’re on you immediately, pressing their bodies against your front and back. You are completely trapped between them, and you couldn’t be more content. Gojo’s lips move hungrily agains your neck while Geto’s mouth sucks on your neck, no doubt leaving hickies that you’ll have to cover with concealer the next morning. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls against your skin. “Such a fuckin’ tease. Makin’ us feel this way for so long…” His big hands begin to caress your hips and ass over your towel, causing you to moan into Gojo’s lips.

The white-haired hottie chuckles into your mouth before pulling away with a wet smack. “You’ve gotta pay for that, princess,” he teasingly whispers into your ear. “Startin’ by losin’ this thing.”

He tugs on your towel, nearly ripping it off your chest. You make a small noise of protest, your eyes flitting to the brush surrounding you. “No one’s gonna see us, darlin’,” Gojo coos in your ear. “This place is surrounded by trees. It’s only us here, baby.”

Geto’s hands slide up your hips under your towel, distracting you from your nerves. So you let them disrobe you. The towel comes off, floating away in the water, leaving your bikini to be the only thing separating you from them. Then you slowly untie the strings holding your bikini together.

You let the top fall from your chest, revealing your naked breasts to them, and then your bottoms come off, exposing your naked pussy to the water. Though they can’t see it yet, you know they have the advantage of touching you if they wish. And you wouldn’t stop them. The two men are immediately dumbstruck at the sight of you, their eyes widening.

“Goddamn,” Geto hisses while Gojo whistles at the sight of your naked body. Both reactions make you flush, a newfound confidence flowing through your core. You feel like the sexiest bitch alive.

“This definitely beats those tight-ass pencil skirts you be wearin’ to work,” Gojo chuckles as he runs his long fingertips down your sides. “So many times I’ve thought about bendin’ you over my desk while Geto kisses those pretty lips of yours.” You whimper at his naughty fantasy, wanting the same thing.

“Or while I play with these gorgeous tits,” Geto mumbles, pressing his front to your back. One of his big hands moves to gently fondle one of your breasts, keeping his touch light. His warm palm and fingers touch every sensitive part of your breast, even pinching your hardened nipple.

A moan escapes your lips, unable to be hidden anymore. “And there’s another one for you, ‘Tarou,” the long-haired beauty chuckles, nodding at your other free breast. "Help me relax her a bit more.”

Gojo quickly swoops in and begins suckling at the brown peak of your hard nipple, his wet tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. Geto follows suit, taking your other nipple into his mouth and suckling gently on it. Your mouth falls open into an O of ecstasy, the feeling of their hot, wet mouths and tongues caressing your breasts a euphoric experience.

“Fuck,” you whimper, leaning your head back against a rock. Geto hums approvingly as he continues to lap at your nipple as if he is trying to draw milk from it. “That’s it, baby,” Gojo coos, pausing from sucking your nipple. “Just relax. You deserve this.” His pearly whites begin to nibble gently on your nipple, the slight sharpness of his teeth making you draw a sharp breath.

‘I do,’ you find yourself thinking. ‘I deserve this.’ You deserve every ounce of the pleasure they are trying to give you. Your hands move to caress their hair, gripping the strands every time they lick or tug on a particularly sensitive part of your gorgeous titties.

Your pussy can’t take it! She’s dripping for attention at this point, begging you to put her out of her misery. Gojo must realize this from the way you whine and moan from his and Geto’s lips.“Someone’s excited,” he chortles, smirking cockily up at you. “You want me to touch you?”

You whimper, hesitant. Your pride does not allow you to use your voice despite your desperation. Gojo just laughs, silently making fun of your dilemma. “Use your words, baby, or I can’t help you,” he teasingly whispers against your breast. His hot breath caressing your sensitive bud nearly makes your pussy’s heartbeat accelerate. You’re losing it, wanting something, anything.

Your desperation wins. “Dammit, Gojo, just touch me!” you whine. “I want you to touch my pussy…please.” You stare into the ocean-blue depths of Gojo’s eyes, finding the sheer joy in your begging there. You don’t get to stare into them long because Geto turns your face to his and presses a passionate kiss to your lips. “Good girl,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’d better give her what she wants before she loses her mind, ‘Tarou.”

And like a good man should, Gojo puts you out of your misery but lighting stroking your clit with his thumb. The little pulses have you seeing stars and your eyes flutter closed to see more. Gojo proceeds to press kisses to your neck, humming approvingly as he does. “That feel good?” he teasingly asks, his hot breath fanning your neck. It does…but you need something else. Something more. “N-need…need more,” you softly moan. “Please taste me.”

A lustful look flashes across Gojo’s face. “Well, since you asked so nicely…” He nods at Geto and the dark-haired man takes hold of you by your hips, scooping you up and chuckling at your squeak. He then places you up on a flat rock, allowing you time to get used to the new environment. “Comfortable, mama?” Geto asks you, stroking your outer thigh. You nod, the summer breeze feeling cool against your wet skin and pussy that has become sensitive to everything.

“Now let’s see what you’ve got for us,” Gojo purrs, moving forward to pry your legs open with one of his big hands. “Shit!” Geto hisses, gaping incredulously at your glistening pussy. Gojo makes a noise between a moan and a hum, filling your core with heat. “Somethin’ tells me all of that ain’t from the water,” he hums, his hooded eyes flicking up at you. “All of that for us, princess? How generous of you. But who gets the first taste?”

He stares at Geto challengingly, but Geto has already moved in front of him to get in between your legs. “Hey!” Gojo shouts, pouting at his spot being taken. Geto pulls away to spare him a glance. “You were takin’ too long,” he deadpans. “I made the decision for you.” His violet eyes flick up to stare into yours, making your heart and clit throb. “Let me know what feels good to you.”

You wish you could tell him everything he does feels good: the slow flicks and swirls of his big tongue against your clit; how carefully yet methodically he slides the muscle in his mouth against your wet slit; the pillowy-softness of his lips cushioning your pussy and rubbing against your clit. Your head rolls back, as do your eyes, unable to keep focus on Geto’s head bobbing between your legs. “Sugu,” you moan. “That…ah, shit…that feels really good.”

Gojo isn't a silent eater either. When he isn’t making the sloppiest, wet sounds with his tongue and mouth in your cunt, he’s talking to you, telling you how good you taste. “So wet,” he moans into your pussy. “So sweet…you taste so fuckin’ good for me.” His deep voice rumbling in your pussy only makes you gush more which he happily laps up like a delighted dog.

You’ve fallen so deep into the pleasure Geto is giving you that you barely hear Gojo getting out of the water to instead settle down next to you. When you suddenly feel a few water droplets splash onto your naked tits, your eyes flutter open to see the white-haired hottie kneeling above you with a teasing smirk toying at his pink lips. “You look so goddamn cute like this, princess,” he sighs dreamily as if imagining his turn licking your cunt.

Geto begins to swirl his tongue in your clit, using the tip of it to caress your clit. His ministrations cause you to whimper pitifully, the pleasure too much for you to take. Your eyes flicker down to Gojo’s groin in your face and you notice the tent he’s pitching in his trunks.

Not even thinking, your hand moves to caress his hardened dick, your puppy-dog eyes staring up at him pleadingly. Surprise flashes in his eyes before it is replaced with full-blown lust. “Oh? You want me?” he questions, smirking down at you. “How can I deny such an adorable request?”

Without another word, he unties his Calvin Klein swim trunks and shoves them down his tanned thighs, revealing his gorgeous, thick, hard cock protruding from a patch of silver pubic hair. Your eyes widen as it pulses and throbs in front of your face, ready for all of you. Gojo raises an expectant eyebrow at you, his hand grabbing the base of his cock.

Knowing what he wants, you slowly open your mouth, covering your teeth with your juicy, kissable lips. He slowly slides his cock inside of your inviting mouth and you clamp your lips around him. A long sigh leaves his lips and his head rolls back, exposing his neck and bobbing Adam’s Apple. You continue to bob your head along his long dick, soon becoming used to his girth.

You take one hand to replace his wrapped around his cock and begin to swirl your tongue along the head, lapping up the precum that dribbles out for you. Gojo stares down at you, his blue eyes dark and face flushed with pleasure. “Ah…fuck!” he softly moans, his eyes squeezing shut as your tongue runs over the most sensitive spots along his cock. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought of this: you with your pretty face stuffed full of my cock. You look even better than in my dreams.”

You slowly take him back into your mouth where you begin to move your head back and forth along his cock, hollowing your cheeks to make your mouth tight. Gojo isn’t quiet either–he moans and swears; whimpers and groans at the feeling of your tight, wet mouth wrapped around him. You try to follow the same pattern as Geto’s slow, teasing strokes, taking your sweet time. The sounds that leave your lips are sloppy and lewd, making your pussy clench tighter in Geto’s mouth.

When you finally feel like you’ve gotten used to him, you begin to try to take Gojo into your throat…God, is that a mistake. Already, your jaw begins to ache and your throat feels full from him, but Gojo doesn’t consider that when he gives you a lustful, deviant stare. “Want me to fuck that face, princess?” he huffs. “Nod for yes.”

Your throat is gonna hate your ass for this later, but you nod, causing Gojo to moan at the vibrations against his dick. “Good girl. Now listen carefully: if any time you need something, if you wanna breathe or want me to stop, just tap my thigh twice, got it?” You nod once again and Geto praises you. “So obedient,” he chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “C’mon, ‘Toru, don't tease the girl. Give her what she wants.”

Gojo doesn’t need to be told twice. Immediately, he shifts his hips and slides deeper inside your mouth, sliding across your throat. You choke a bit as he does so until you can nearly feel him touch the back of your throat. You instantly open your throat more as if to yawn and breathe slowly through your nose, trying to avoid choking along Gojo’s cock.

He doesn’t go slow either. Immediately, his hand grips your hair and he proceeds to rut into your throat, fucking your face like he is in need of it. “Ah, yes!” he moans, high-pitched and brazened. “Take it, baby. Take all of me down that throat like a good lil’ girl.”

And you do, ignoring the sting of tears in your eyes and the ache of your jaw. Spit pools along your bottom lip and drips down your chin, causing your mouth to make sharp, sucking sounds whenever Gojo thrusts.

His eyes are wild as he stares down at you sucking him off like the best little slut he’s ever had. “I bet you’ve been feenin' for this, haven’t you?” he chuckles deviously. “I bet the thought of havin’ the both of us has made you wet, right?”

You don’t answer, too occupied with his merciless, rough thrusts and heavy balls slapping against your chin. Gojo pulls back a bit to allow you to speak as Geto sharply smacks your pussy, making your clit jump with pleasure as soon as his palm makes contact with it. “Answer him,” he growls.

You nearly cry out in both pleasure and pain, becoming drunk on the strange mixture. “Yes!” you moan around Gojo’s cock, your words muffled and gargled. “I-I’ve wanted this! I’ve wanted you both for so, so long!”

Gojo grins widely, sliding his thick cock out of your mouth. The sight of it being so wet and slick with your spit makes your stomach flip excitedly. “Gooood girl!” he coos, patting your cheek. “You deserve a reward for your honesty. Sugu, switch with me. I’m almost jealous seein’ you get a taste of that pussy for so long.”

Geto is up and out from between your legs immediately, jumping at the chance to get his dick in your mouth. And shit, is it a dick to behold: he is much thicker than Gojo but not quite as long with one long, pulsating vein trailing from the pink, bulbous tip dripping his precum to the base that leads up to a patch of black hair and a smooth, toned, tanned stomach and V-line. You can't take your eyes off of him, even as he and Gojo switch positions.

Geto grabs his dick and holds it in front of you, his eyes dark with lust and need. "Stick your tongue out,” he breathlessly orders you. You do so and he begins to tap his head against your tongue before sliding himself in your mouth. Damn, is he thick! Your mouth and jaw stretch to accommodate his size though not without discomfort.

Geto groans as he slides deeper and deeper, each inch opening up your throat more. “Deeper, mama,” he grunts. "Take me deeper.”

He gives you no choice but to do so, even though your nostrils burn from inhaling and exhaling too hard to avoid choking on his dick. You can’t help but gag on it though as your throat flexes against his shaft that begins to stroke the wet walls of your throat. He, too, begins to fuck your throat though not as roughly or quickly. His strokes are slow yet deep, touching the back of your throat with every single thrust of his hips.

Gojo watches from the waters below, settled in between your thighs as he begins to caress your pussy. “How’s she feel, Sugu?” he teasingly hums. “Isn’t her throat heaven on earth?”

Geto only answers with a moan, his entire body shuddering at the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him. Gojo’s tongue sliding inside of your pussy nearly distracts you as he begins to work your little, wet hole. You moan along Geto’s cock as your thighs tighten around Gojo’s head. He pulls away a bit to speak, his lips glistening from your wetness. “You’re so tight, princess. All I’m doin’ is just tonguefuckin’ you and you’re clenchin’ around me. Wonder how’d you feel with my dick in you.”

"You might wanna…ah, shit…finger her, just in case,” Geto huffs, still bumping his hips against your mouth. “Get her ready for when she…fuck yes, baby…takes you.”

Gojo hums appreciatively at the lewd idea. “Mmm, I like the way you think, Sugu.” Before you can even prepare, he is replacing his tongue with one of his long piano fingers. You practically scream around Geto’s cock as Gojo fucks you with his finger, slowly but effectively bringing you closer to the brink of madness as he strokes your G-spot.

You can’t help it–you pop off of Geto’s cock to vocalize your pleasure and need to orgasm. “God, ‘Tarou!” you moan. “Please make me cum! I’m so, so close!”

Your toes curl against Gojo’s head and your entire body clenches as he pushes you farther toward that hill. He grins up at you, his finger still curling in your cunt in a ‘come hither’ motion that has you witnessing God. “That’s some good begging if I haven’t heard it before,” he snickers. “Cum for us now, baby. Gush all over my fuckin’ face.”

He ducks his head between your thighs again, his tongue doing the talking now. The constant stimulation against your clit and the wet strokes of Geto stroking his dick in your face cause you to hurdle down that hill into a sea of bliss. When that chord finally snaps inside of you, you practically scream to the skies above as you gush all over Gojo’s face, your entire body tensing as the pleasure flows through your veins.

Gojo appreciatively laps up every ounce of your cum, never wasting a single drop. “So sweet!” he groans. “You gave me so much, princess. You must’ve been so needy for so long.”

Geto pauses his dick-stroking to greedily stare down at your open legs and his boyfriend’s face between them. “Hey, don’t be greedy. Gimme some of that, too.”

He ducks down to press a hand to the back of Gojo’s head and bring him in for a rough, open-mouthed kiss where their tongues swirl and hands thread through their hair. You can’t help it–you begin to touch yourself at the erotic sight of the two attractive men kissing in front of you. Gojo notices and pulls away to laugh, a string of spit trailing from his lip to Geto’s. “Uh-oh,” he coos. “Looks like someone liked seeing that. You naughty slut, gettin’ off to us kissing.”

You whimper, unable to deny it. Geto groans while Gojo looks visibly pained at the sight. “God, you’re just too cute,” he growls, visibly frustrated by your adorableness. “It’s takin’ everything in me to not fuck you silly right now.” You can see it–his cock is throbbing and twitching for you, as is Geto’s.

The two stare down at you as if you’re a dessert place they’re desperate to get a taste of. “What do you want now, princess?” Gojo asks, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

You have no time to be prideful. Your throbbing, aching pussy won’t allow you to. You’re about to tear your hair out if you don’t get either of them inside of you. Your hand continues to stroke your pussy right in their faces, beckoning their cocks forward.

“I want both of you,” you beg. “Please…I can't wait anymore. I’m on the pill too, so please just fuck me right here, right now.” The you that you were before this encounter would’ve given you a look of pure disgust at your babbling and pleading to get fucked by two men you barely know.

The duo side-eye each other, devious plans in their eyes. “You take the front, I take the back?” Gojo snickers. Geto scoffs, not even bothering to give an appropriate answer. “I could give less of a fuck where I end up. Just as long as my cum ends up all over her.”

While your pussy clenches at the vulgarity of his language, Gojo mockingly gasps, delighted at his boyfriend’s words. “So vulgar!” he giggles. “I love that.” He then gives your ass a smack, the sound reaching the very tops of the trees. “On all fours, baby. Don’t keep us waiting.”

You do as they say, slowly getting into position, now facing Geto while Gojo settles behind you. You shiver at the feeling of the white-haired hottie’s hands caressing your ass, giving it sharp spanks every so often. Geto’s violet eyes glimmer down at you as he strokes his cock in your face.

“Open wide, mama,” he coos, and you do so, looking up at him as you obediently widen your jaw to accommodate his size. Speaking of accommodating size, your pussy is busy doing the same thing to Gojo’s cock that has just begun to slide inside of you, slow and careful.

You tense slightly as his cock stretches out your pussy. You can’t remember when you had a dick this well-endowed. Gojo’s hands stroke your sides, easing your nerves. “Just relax, princess. Tell me when you want me to continue.” He keeps his hips still despite Geto’s slow strokes as he gently fucks your mouth. After a few minutes of adjusting, you pull away from Geto’s cock to speak.

“Okay,” you softly say, turning to look behind your shoulder at Gojo. “Go ahead. It’s just a stretch, but I’m not hurting. You can move now.” Gojo nods and begins to roll his hips into you. As soon as he does, you’re both moaning at the feeling of his cock stroking your insides. “Just as I thought,” he grunts. “You feel like fuckin’ heaven.”

You can’t even describe how he feels. His dick stretches out your cunt and strokes every single pleasurable part of your insides that have your legs shaking and body trembling. The more he thrusts, the more he rubs up against your G-spot, almost painfully so. It’s just too much!

But Gojo holds you firmly by your hips, completely bottomed out inside of you and rearranging your guts with every single thrust. “Uh-uh, baby; don’t run for me. You begged me for this shit and now you’re gonna take it.”

He chuckles at your whines of protest and trembling body, making you feel even more like a pathetic slut. You want to escape from the constant stimulation, but the way he continues to beat your pussy into submission and drag you closer to your second orgasm is too delicious. And he’s so, so deep! The more he thrusts, the deeper he gets until he is very nearly kissing your cervix (but not too much for pain).

“‘Tarou, please!” you whine, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Too much…so deep!”

Gojo giggles–fucking giggles–at your struggle, his pearly whites gleaming brighter than the sun. “Yeah?” he chuckles. “Just how a slut like you needs it, hm? Nice…and slow…and deep?”

He begins to rock his hips back and forth into you with every drawn-out word, agonizingly slow and enjoying the way you squirm and whine around Geto’s cock when the long-haired beauty slides it back into your gaping, wet mouth.“Don’t slack now, mama,” he chuckles, finding amusement in your sensitivity. “Don’t be a pillow princess either. You’ve gotta work for this.”

Gojo lets out a shuddering moan, his head tossed back to the evening sky. “Fuck me,” he moans, shuddering at the way you feel wrapped around him. “With the way she’s squeezin’ around me, she’s doin’ a good job so far. We should test her and see if can still handle it.” He gives Geto a wide, evil smile from over your shoulder. “Let’s fuck her at the same time.” Geto shares the same evil smirk and you can already tell you’re in danger.

“W-Wait, guys,” you protest around Geto’s cock, but you can’t finish the rest of your sentence as pleasure explodes in your core when Gojo begins to piston his hips inside of you at the same time as Geto. They each match the same pace and pattern, rutting in and out of your holes until your eyes are wet with tears and your body is aching for release. They fill you to the brim with their cocks, using your body for their own pleasure while also giving you yours.

“Please!” you beg, but you’re not sure what you’re begging for. Do you want them to continue? Do you want them to stop? You don’t know, your mind too fuzzy with pleasure to decide what is too much. Either way, the two devils currently filling your holes decide to do as they please anyway, fucking you like there is no tomorrow.

“Come on now, princess,” Gojo breathlessly coaxes. “Fuck me back. Show me how much you need this shit.” You feel him prop up one leg for a better angle–one that causes your clit to tingle excitedly and be stimulated with every thrust.

You moan around Geto’s cock as you begin to shamelessly whine your hips and toss your ass back into Gojo’s thrusts, meeting him halfway. Geto lets out a loud, panty-dropping moan, his black hair like a wild mane around his face. “Fuck!” he practically bellows. “I don’t know what the fuck you just did, but she just took me deeper!” And you did–you can feel him touching the back of your burning, raw throat from it constantly being fucked.

Gojo smirks at his boyfriend’s blissed-out expression, slightly slowing down his thrusts. “While your pussy feels amazing, sweetie, I’m not gonna lie: cummin’ down your throat and possibly on your pretty face sounds very enticing.” Finally, he pauses from fucking you despite your whine of protest. “Wanna switch, Sugu?”

Geto immediately pulls his dick out of your mouth, his eyes flashing with lust. “I thought you wouldn’t ask.” Warning signs flare in your brain as the duo slowly switches places–Geto in the back, Gojo in the front. Your throat and your pussy are currently throbbing and aching with sensitivity from their cocks. How are you going to handle more?

“Boys…I-I don't think I can…” Gojo shushes you, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Just relax, sweetness. You don’t have to lift a finger. Just let us fuck these pretty holes the way you need us too, okay?” He flashes a white-toothed grin at you.

Before you can agree or protest, both of their cocks are sheathing inside of you once more. “God!” Gojo moans at the same time as Geto wordlessly sighs as he sinks into your pussy.

They waste no time fucking you, both sliding in and out of your body at the same time. Your body bounces from the force of Geto’s thrusts, your tits jiggling and ass slapping in time with his thrusts. You can tell he is close to his orgasm with how forceful his thrusts are.

You’re not too far behind–you can feel your own orgasm quickly rising to the surface, your core beginning to distractedly tighten. Geto notices your shift in body chemistry and loops a hand between your thighs to rub your wet, aching clit. You scream around Gojo’s cock, sobbing at the pleasure.

“You’re close too, aren’t you, mama?” Geto asks. “I can feel that body shaking. I should speed up, shouldn’t I?” He does so, slamming his hips against you so hard that his balls begin to slap your clit.

Gojo speeds up too, filling your nostrils and tongue with the scent and taste of him. “Maybe I should too, so you can take this fat load all the way down your throat.” He presses his hand into your hair, coaxing you to look up at him. “How's this for relaxation, hm?” he teases. “Just what you needed, right?”

‘Yes!’ you scream in your head. This is exactly what you needed to take yourself out of you for a moment–to be fucked and used; to receive pleasure while also giving it. “Tryna act like you didn’t want this or like us,” Geto huffs, “when in reality, you’ve been needin' some dick for the longest. I bet you were burning inside just wantin’ this for yourself.” He continues to circle your clit, his fingers working overtime. “Such a greedy little girl.”

You are a greedy girl because that second orgasm begins to rise within you with every thrust of Geto’s cock and pulse of his fingers against your clit. That chord begins to tighten again, threatening to snap very soon. “Sugu, please!” you whine around Gojo’s hard dick still deep down your throat. Your eyes screw tight and your brows knit together, no doubt giving an ugly expression.

“Go right ahead, baby,” Geto grunts, fucking you faster. “It’s fine. Give it all to me. I know you want to, so don’t you dare hold back.”

Gojo chuckles from above you, gently stroking the back of your head. “You heard the man, princess,” he whispers. "Go ahead and cum for him. Be a good little slut and cum all over that fat fuckin’ cock. Don’t you wanna be a good girl for us?”

Vigorously, you nod, right on the point of losing all sanity. Grunts and moans fill the air as the duo continues to fuck you, chasing their orgasms. “So goddamn pretty,” Geto grunts, giving your ass another sharp smack. “I’m gonna cum deep inside you, gorgeous. I hope you’re ready.”

Gojo is losing it too, his thrusts becoming rougher, causing you to gag around his cock and spit to drip from your bottom lip. “He ain't the only one, princess. I’m gonna nut deep inside this pretty mouth of yours, and you’re gonna love it.”

He dips down to press his lips to your ear, gripping your hair as he does. “You wanna take these loads like a good lil’ cumslut? You wanna make us happy, right?” You whine desperately, wanting nothing more than to just cum and have them cum with you. “Please,” you whimper. “Please cum for me, both of you.” Your soft, sweet voice is all it takes for Gojo and Geto to lose the last bit of their self-restraint.

After a few more rough thrusts that have your body shaking and your soul nearly being stripped from your body, the men finally reach their breaking point. With two long, drawn-out moans that could possibly be heard over the treetops, Gojo and Geto cum deep inside of your holes.

You gasp around Gojo’s cock when you feel his warm cum spurt deep down your throat, filling your tastebuds with the creamy, salty substance.

Geto cums deep inside of your pussy, so much that you can feel it dripping down your thighs. “Take it!” he demands in a dangerous growl that makes your stomach flip. “Take all of us, baby.” And you do. You don’t have a choice.

At the same time, your orgasm hits you like a truck, slamming into you with enough force to have you sobbing. You pop off of Gojo’s cock, ignoring the spit and cum dripping down your chin. “Oh, my God!” you moan to the heavens, head tilted back and eyes squeezed tight as your orgasm washes over you. “I’m cumming!” you babble. “I’m cumming!”��

“Yes, baby, we know,” Gojo chuckles, gently stroking your face. He then cackles at your expression. “Look at those pretty eyes rollin’ back. Such a slutty face you’ve got there, babe.”

He squeezes your face in his hand, squishing your cheeks together as your orgasm continues to rock you to your core. You wish you could feel this feeling of euphoria forever. You’re not thinking about work or this business trip or your responsibilities. All you’re thinking about is how good you feel and the men that are making you feel this good.

Finally, after a few slow breaths, you come back down to earth though your head is swimming and your body is exhausted. At this point, the sun has left, plunging you, Gojo, and Geto into a blueish shade that twilight provides.

The crickets chirp and the cicadas buzz, alerting you that it is now nighttime. Your eyes flutter closed, unable to hold themselves up anymore. You feel tired and are in need of rest. Your body aches in the best way, your pussy feeling sensitive and full. A weak moan leaves your lips as Gojo and Geto gently pull out of you.

“Still on earth with us, mama?” Geto softly asks, stroking your backside. “Can you move?”

You weakly shake your head, knowing damn well your legs are mush and your feet have lost their mind. Gojo giggles from in front of you, stroking your scalp. “Looks like we took the life right outta her,” he laughs. “Let’s get her in the house and under some covers.”

Though you can’t see anything because your eyes are closed, you are aware that one of the men has scooped you up into his arms and has begun to carry you back into the house. “M-My towel,” you mumble tiredly. Your head lulls against a broad, wet chest, your ear catching the sound of a heartbeat.

“We’ll go back out to get it,” Geto murmurs to you. “You just relax for now.”

And you do, nearly falling asleep in his arms but not enough to miss snippets of the journey from the hot springs to the house. The boys immediately take you upstairs to their bedroom where they proceed to lay you down on the softest and silkiest of sheets. You sigh when your skin immediately hits the cool sheets and soft mattress, your tired muscles relaxing instantly.

You feel the mattress dip when Gojo and Geto get into bed on either side of you, trapping you between their hard, warm bodies. “Did you enjoy yourself, baby?” Geto asks as he lifts a glass to your lips. “Here, sip some water.”

You do so, grateful for the drink. “Mmm-hmm,” you softly reply, eyes still shut. “It was so nice…you both were so good.” Gojo chuckles from next to you, his long fingers tracing shapes down your arm. “Why, how sweet of you. It was nice for us too.”

Geto hums in agreement, looping his big arm around the back of your head to serve as a pillow. Comfortable silence descends upon you three that only comes from good sex. You feel content in their arms, in this bed with them. You feel like whatever you three are could work, no matter what your workplace has to say behind your back or on the low when they need some juicy gossip.

You want to ask them if you’re dating now or if that is even possible for the three of you, but sleep and the mingling scents of their cologne tell you that it can wait until morning. All you want is this comfort and this good, good feeling to last.

“Y'know you really were amazing for us, babe,” Gojo coos, his lips ghosting over yours. “Just tell me somethin’. Who made you cum the hardest? Was it me or was it–“

“Shut the fuck up, Gojo,” Geto growls, “or you’ll be sleepin’ in that lake."

All you can do is giggle before sleep finally comes and you fall into a beautiful dream of you three, together.

THE END.

#smutty smut #black fanfic writer #my works #my fic shit #my one shots #suguru geto x black!reader #satoru gojo x black!reader #black coded reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #18+ one shot #poly geto x gojo #poly smut

641 notes · View notes