#kk.naughty

[kemakoshume]

Tell Me You Love Me — Yor Forger x Loid Forger

summary: "So, when are you two trying for a second?" shouldn't have caused the freight train of insecurity and imposter syndrome that dawned on Yor Forger, but it did.

Loid fixes that.

warnings; bullying, insecurities, family dynamics, loid... being so soft i love him, Yor's POV, oral (f!receiving), vaginal sex, breeding.

a/n: lmao me? character x character? on tumblr? wild. i wrote this in one big speed run today because i've been obsessed with this show and now the manga since i started it last week. i hope y'all enjoy this! it's my first c x c for a f/m relationship i think... ever lol. huge shout out to @craftycheetah for helping me out throughout writing this. thank you for the sex position website, i don't know what i would've done without it. now... enjoy all 8.8k words of this.

“So, Yor… when are you two trying for a second?”

The dark-haired beauty turned her head, spinning on the axis of her heels so fast that she almost lost her balance. Despite her practiced poised nature, Yor couldn’t help but gape helplessly as she scrambled to find her words. Under the weight of Camilla’s gaze, and her line of questioning, Yor was at a loss.

“So, Yor… when are you two trying for a second?”

The dark-haired beauty turned her head, spinning on the axis of her heels so fast that she almost lost her balance. Despite her practiced poised nature, Yor couldn’t help but gape helplessly as she scrambled to find her words. Under the weight of Camilla’s gaze, and her line of questioning, Yor was at a loss.

She stood in the middle of her co-worker's home with a glass of wine, surrounded by people lost in their own little worlds of conversation beneath the warm hue of decor lights and soft jazz-inspired music. She’d had the mind not to come. She knew she shouldn’t have come, but she’d had no choice. 

It was Camilla’s engagement party, and she’d never have heard the end of it if she and Loid hadn’t made an appearance. Their whole life together was built on maintaining the perfect image, so not coming would have spelled doom socially for their family in an instant. So, here Yor was again—playing in a den of lions donning ascots and top-dollar balayages.

“A second?” Yor asked, sipping nervously at her drink as her eyes subtly scanned the room.

Loid was speaking with some men a few feet away, looking as cordial as ever as he discussed the details of his casual chocolate-brown suit with an inquisitive friend of Dominic’s. His hair was imperfectly styled, just how he liked. Yor had molded with her own hands at his behest. 

He’d made an offhand comment about how nice her hair always looked, not a single lock out of place even with the free-flowing bangs she left out in the front. So, she did his hair for him. After a harrowing mission that left her unable to lift her arms for a week, he began doing her hair in return. Granted, he thought she’d injured herself lifting a box that was too heavy at work, but still. He accepted his role as an interim hairdresser with muted enthusiasm, and eventually, Anya joined the train. 

Every morning that they had enough time, they’d sit in the living room and help get one another groomed for the day. This morning was one of those mornings, and he looked every bit the polished handsome husband who knew how to treat his wife and child as a result.

He must have felt the weight of Yor’s eyes on him, even from across the room. He glanced over to meet his wife’s subtle stare, smirking with a slight nod in her direction before he turned his attention back to the man in front of him, listening intently as he droned on about the Eden Academy director’s love of fine suits.

Camilla’s eyes followed Yor’s line of sight over to Loid, and the woman stepped closer into Yor’s space until she was close enough that Yor could easily snap her n—touch her.

“Yes, a second. Well, a first for you, I suppose but a second for Loid. A baby is necessary at this point, don’t you think?” Camilla said, a coy curl at the corner of her lips as she moved her lithe hands animatedly to match her less-than-quiet words. “I assumed, with Loid’s previous entanglement, you’d want to lock things down as soon as possible. Sure, you got a ring and some useless paperwork, but any man who’s had a child with another woman will never truly be yours until you give him something of equal value.”

Yor furrowed her eyebrows, turning her attention to the blonde looking up at her with fire in her eyes as she sipped her wine.

“Equal value?” she said, glancing down into her glass and contemplating the odds of drowning someone in the liquid left in the cup.

“Yes, yes. Equal value. You see, dear Yor, his precious little girl will always take priority over you, and so will the memory of his wife. His real wife, not the placeholder that you’ve allowed yourself to be,” Camilla said, venom laced in the tip of her tongue. “You’re understandably replaceable until you give him something that makes you seem… well, a little less useless. Granted, he could always take the new baby and the old one and leave you by the wayside in the end. But, I’d like to think he would finally care about you if you gave him a child of your own. It's been over a year since you got married, love. Even the dead one would've managed to give him a kid by now. I’d hope you could do better than someone who’s not alive anymore.”

Hot blood rushed into the high points of Yor’s face, bathing her pale skin in a flush that she knew looked embarrassing from Camilla’s pleased expression. She got off on this—seeing Yor uncomfortable—and Yor hated that she’d allowed the woman to pull her in.

“That’s—that isn’t true,” Yor said, though her words lacked conviction, and Camilla jumped on the display of insecurity like a starved rat coming across a fromagerie in the heart of France.

“I’m glad you get to call him your husband, even if it’s just a title. It’s evident that he does not take you seriously if you’re not talking about having more kids. I wonder if he would still want you if his old wife were to walk amongst the living again.”

Yor felt her hand shaking around the stem of her wine glass, threatening to shatter the “shatterproof” glass into pieces. Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade rosy red, and her eyes pricked with heat that felt unnatural on her face.

She opened her mouth to speak and no words came, only the beginning of what felt like a wretched sob that felt so jarringly alien in her throat. Yor didn’t cry. Not really, if ever. But still, there the tears were, threatening her with the weight of a loaded gun as they edged closer to spilling out from her eyelids.

“We’ll be going now.”

Yor sighed, releasing a breath she didn’t realize she held as Loid sauntered up to her side, placing one hand on her lower back while he motioned toward the door with the other.

“You were listening?” Yor said, blinking the wetness out of her eyes as she turned her head inward toward Loid’s shoulder. She used his body as a refuge to wipe the remnants of the tear trailing down her cheek in peace away from Camilla’s gaze.

The blonde fixed her stare on Loid instead, a blatant scowl on her face even as her boyfrie—no, fiancé now—walked up defensively behind her.

“Leaving so soon?” she asked, shaking her fiancé’s hand off of her shoulder when he attempted to touch her.

Loid scoffed, helping Yor into a lined faux fur jacket that hugged her nicely where the fabric was sleeker in the middle and accented her beautifully as the fur framed her face. He kept a pleasant smile as he grabbed their things—his wallet and Yor’s purse—from the closet behind them and he took Yor’s hand in his easily as he pulled her toward the door.

“Camilla, it’s truly remarkable to behold what deeply rooted inferiority looks like in human form. You exemplify the word in every way.”

The blonde huffed and Loid slinked past her with Yor tucked close to his side, keeping his eyes trained on the exit as they walked away from the growing scene.

“I only meant,” Camilla said toward their backs, hesitating for only a beat before steeling her resolve and speaking loudly enough that everyone could hear her. “I only meant that any man worth his salt would have already proven his love to his new wife. From what I've seen, you two act like roommates who co-parent. Maybe they’re secretly celibate, and that’s why they aren’t interested in more babies, huh, everyone? Why marry a woman you’re so obviously disgusted by, Loid? I have plenty of friends I’m sure would be willing to give a widower a chance. Anything would be better tha—”

“Camilla,” a voice said so darkly that both Loid and Yor stopped in their tracks. The sound of shaking breath became louder in the still air of the room as they turned around to see Camilla’s fiancé standing behind her with an expression so dark with shame that Yor found it hard to look at.

“I love you, and I’ve always loved you. I don’t think a universe exists where I wouldn’t fall in love with you, over and over, but that was foul, and I’m embarrassed by the way you just spoke to her. Loid, Yor,” he said, his eyes rimmed red as he looked at the couple stopped in shock, “have a good night. I’m sorry that our home hasn’t been a welcome place for you both. I hope you can forgive us.”

Loid nodded his head without a word, keeping Yor close to his body as he opened the door with her in front of him, and off into the night they went.

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

The sun shined too brightly in the morning, practically mocking Yor with the promise of a good day that her brain was not inclined to let her have. There was something buzzing within her bones, gnawing against the core of her being with dull teeth that made her feel uneasy. She floated around her home feeling like a stranger despite her year living there—making the space full of more than just a lonely man and his only child.

Making them a family, even if it was only for appearances.

Yor stood over the stove, stirring stew in a large pot, tossing in spices and aromatics she’d learned how to handle well enough over the past few months. The room was warm from the heat of the stovetop coils and bubbling food, while the dish's aroma enticed her stomach as she waited for the broth to thicken.

Anya sat in the living room watching her mid-afternoon morning TV, making little *pew pew* sounds as she watched the spy on screen after the dastardly assassin giving him chase. She sang along with the theme song as the title sequence queued on screen and she couldn’t contain her excitement as the spy showed up again.

Loid sat across from Anya on the home’s reclining chair, relaxing into the furniture with one leg crossed over his other leg’s knee as he scanned his eyes over the morning paper. His eyes drifted from it however to watch Anya watching her shows. His eyes grew soft as he watched the little girl imagine herself in that world of danger, and his voice was even softer as he replied to all of Anya’s comments and constant, “Chi-chi, did you see? Did you see it?” to which he replied yes, even if he hadn’t actually been watching.

His eyes found Yor’s then from her spot in the kitchen’s window panel, sending her a smile and an eye roll that she knew meant “god, this kid.”

Yor placed her hand over her heart, begging the organ to stop beating so violently against the cavity in her chest. It was just a smile. He’d smiled at her a million times, yet the feeling of fluttering in her belly never ceased. When his catlike blue eyes met her’s and he looked at her as if she were made up of everything good in the world, she couldn’t help but feel weak in the knees. That feeling always proceeded the heartache, and the feeling of her heart being crushed came in record time as Loid’s eyes left her own and focused on his daughter again.

The spot in Yor’s stomach that’d built up a lepidopterarium filled with the most beautiful winged beauties caved in then, sinking into a pit that reached her spine. Yor loved Anya, genuinely, as if she were her own. She harbored nothing but care for the child, and her father, but what if Camilla was right? What if Loid did want another child? What if that was something he needed to feel whole, but he hadn’t asked Yor out of… pity? Spite? Disinterest? Would he want to get rid of her when the urge finally bubbled up to the surface?

What did he want?

Then, it dawned on her. What did Yor want? After spending a year legally bound to the man, she and Loid had never consummated their union. There was a strange air of professionalism around their relationship that kept Yor firmly in check. This was for the progression of Anya’s school career, to make her life better. This was also to keep Yor’s brother off of her back and out of her business.

That was all. Right?

So, why did her heart hurt so much at the thought of their future? What was in it? What did they need to do to keep it afloat? To keep up their image? What lies would she need to concoct next? She could say they were trying for a baby, should anyone else be insensitive enough to ask. They’d been married long enough that most couples would at least be having the conversation, Yor supposed. But then Camilla’s words came to the forefront of her mind again.

“Maybe they’re celibate… Why marry a woman you’re so obviously disgusted by Loid? Anything would be better than…”

Me, Yor thought.

The stew bubbled over then, sploshing out in fat drops of boiling soup all over the stovetop and onto Yor’s hand. The yell had just barely breached her lips before Loid was there behind her, holding her waist with one arm will the other supported her wrist and held out her hand. He guided her over to the sink, having turned off the stove in a flash before he was back against her. The tap was flowing with cool water, but it wasn’t cold. Not like Yor needed against the incoming burn that pooled closer and closer to the surface of her skin.

Loid ran to the freezer, taking out ice cubes with his bare hands that he brought over to Yor. He cupped her hands in his own, moving the ice around constantly against her small hands to keep the burn at bay.

“Are you okay my love?” he asked, pressing his nose to the crown of her head as she let her neck relax and her head rest against the firm plane of his chest.

Yor nodded her head, saying yes without words even as tears began to pool in her eyes. She’d never pegged herself as a crier. It never felt necessary to cry in the face of pain. The pain was just an emotion like any other that would eventually pass, so there was no use in falling into it and letting it drag you down and away from yourself. But as she stood there will the prickling heat of a shallow burn on her hand, she realized she’d felt this feeling before in her heart. Every time she questioned if Loid wanted her, if Anya liked her, and if they were really meant to be a family. 

She’d felt this deep in her chest a million times.

So, she cried. So restrained that her shoulders shook and her lip felt as though it would tear under the pressure from her teeth, but she cried. Soft little hiccuping sounds came out of her mouth as she brought up her unburned hand to hold on to Loid’s arm that was wrapped around her belly, keeping her close and safe as she let months of feelings come out at once.

“Mama, Anya helps,” the little girl said, stomping her way into the room with an emergency kit she’d seen both of her parents grab and put away in secret many times throughout the months of their employment excursions.

Loid grabbed it from the girl, rubbing her head with his hand before asking her to go to the downstairs neighbor’s house for the afternoon to give Papa some time with Mama, alone. Anya nodded her head eagerly, excited to play with the neighbor woman’s dog that always thought about the sky outside and the birds in the trees.

The front door slammed as Anya left them alone, the house notably quieter since the girl changed the television channel to something less rowdy before she left.

“What’s wrong Yor?” Loid asked, turning the tap down to a trickle. He looked intently at his wife’s hands once the extent of the burn had developed.

Yor shook her head, wiping the tears away roughly before moving to remove herself from Loid’s hold.

“Wait,” he said, pulling her back against him to hold her close.

They didn’t speak for a while. Loid moved Yor’s weight with his own as he guided her to the dining room table without a word, taking out the creams and chilled menthol bandages meant for burns as Yor’s tears subsided. The only sounds shared between them were Loid’s small huffs of concentration and Yor’s sniffles before she found a napkin to blow her nose.

“Sorry,” she said, mumbling the words as Loid finished the bandage around the side of her hand where the stew had gotten her the worst and put one last layer of burn ointment on the top of her hand to keep it from scarring.

He laughed, putting away the first aid utensils where they belonged before standing up to wash off his hands in the now icy cold stream of water in the sink. He walked back to his seat in front of Yor lackadaisically, looking so soft in his cotton t-shirt and loose-fitting dark green sweatpants—the same color as his favorite working suit.

He looked so handsome like that, Yor thought, sinking into her thoughts more when Loid scooted closer to her, slotting their legs together so he could rest his forearms on her thighs.

“Is this about what Camilla said yesterday?”

Yor’s eyes snapped up to meet stormy blue irises, darker than usual at the mere mention of her coworker’s name. Loid looked… upset. Did that mean Camilla was right? Had he been mad at Yor this whole time for not being “his” enough to have a child? Had he thought their engagement was so meaningless that he couldn’t tell her his dreams for another child? Was he afraid she didn’t love him too— oh.

“It… no,” she said, the lie coming out unconvincingly in a hushed tone between Yor’s clenched teeth. “The stew just hurt a lot. I wasn’t prepared for that type of pain. I don’t like being in pain.”

Loid’s face fell, the little scowl on his brow turning into burning empathy as he looked at his wife. His stare was so heavy she felt herself cower beneath it, not ready to confront her feelings yet as the man searched her face for answers. She wasn’t ready to hear that he still only thought of their marriage as a sham. That only she had developed these feelings and that Loid was using her as a placeholder until he found someone else. Someone who he found worthy of carrying his second child, and sharing his bed, and the rest of his life.

Anything better than… Yor.

“Hey,” Loid said, brushing a stray hair out of Yor’s face and sliding his hand across her cheek to place the hair behind her ear. “Your hair’s falling out of your headband. May I?”

Yor nodded her head, sniffling away the tears she felt bubbling beneath the surface again as the man moved to take care of her further. His hands worked easily as he undid the messy remnants of her hairstyle, removing all the accessories in her hair until the black strands were free-flowing and light as they cascaded down her back and fell into her face.

“You look beautiful with your hair down,” Loid said, running his fingers through her hair to expose her face again. “I think that’s why Camilla is so ugly towards you. She’s jealous, understandably so.”

Yor scoffed, reaching up her hand to wipe away a stray tear before Loid caught her hand in his, wiping the tear away from her cheek with his index finger. The digit lingered against her skin even after the moisture had been wicked away. Yor couldn’t help but lean into the touch as his hand cupped her jaw, and his finger traced the line of bone there beneath her skin.

“No one’s jealous of me. They’re jealous I have you, but they don’t know the truth,” Yor said, the words coming out of her mouth so soft that she hoped Loid wasn’t able to hear her despite the stillness of the apartment.

Loid furrowed his brows, hooking his finger beneath Yor’s chin to make her look into his eyes. The deep blue felt fierce as a storm brewing on the horizon as he tried to read Yor’s expression, so broken in a way she’d never let herself show outwardly. Even now as she tried to reign it in, she couldn’t.

‘What truth Yor? That you’re my wife? That we take care of a child? Are both of those things not the truth?” he asked, his eyes pleading for something that Yor couldn’t understand.

She sighed, running her hand over her face which knocked Loid’s hand away. She sat back in her chair, putting more distance between them even though their legs were still touching, and Yor could see it in Loid’s face that that hurt him.

Why was she hurting him?

“The truth is that I’m your wife. But, we both know what our agreement was. I have set myself up for failure because I—”

“You what?” Loid said, holding his hands on the closest part of Yor’s body that he could touch. His hands rested on the exposed skin of her knees as her dress rode up her leg, making those same little soothing motions with his thumb.

She could see it in the depths of his eyes then. That desire to make her happy. Not only to keep her around for his child, but for more. Despite the distance she could tell they’d both placed into their relationship intentionally, she couldn’t help but allow one of the many walls built up in her mind to crumble as she looked into those pretty blue eyes. They’d grown closer over their year together, there was no way to deny that fact to herself.

Every dinner spent at the table together with Anya talking and laughing and forming their own inside jokes. Every night spent helping Anya with homework and talking over wine after stressful days when the little girl went off to bed. Every time they’d spent soothing Anya down from a crying fit together on the rare occasion that the girl got upset, every outing spent holding hands and swinging the child between them to make her squeal, every polite kiss they’d exchanged in public to hush rumors and whispers. It all led to this.

To Yor accepting that their relationship with Anya wasn’t the only thing that had grown, but each other too. From sharing a bathroom to co-parenting to all the times they’d had alone to learn more about each other. It all felt… right. So achingly right, and he was all she really wanted. She couldn’t stand how badly she wanted…

“You. I’ve set myself up for failure by falling for you, Loid Forger. Despite everything within me screaming not to cross that line, to respect our agreement, and maintain my place in our little arrangement. I screwed up. I did the one thing you aren’t supposed to do and fell in love with you, and it’s killing me because I’ve ruined it all. You can just… go find the woman you’re meant to be with now. The one you’ll want for real. To have more babies with and marry for love, not whatever we’ve agreed to here. And I, I’ll go on my way, and leave you and your daughter be. She deserves a real mother, and you deserve a real wife and a loving, passionate marriage. I’m just… sorry I can’t give you that. I know I’m not what you want.”

Her eyes burned as she looked down at her lap, fiddling incessantly with the skin around her nails as she fought more wretched tears. It shouldn’t have felt so good when Loid’s chilled hand touched the warm skin of her face, shushing the avalanche of words trying to become coherent sentences as they poured out from Yor’s mouth.

He grabbed the legs of her chair beneath her, pulling her in closer to him until she was practically sitting in his lap, balanced on the crack between the chairs as they touched.

“I’m the failure,” he whispered, resting his forehead against Yor’s as she let one last tear fall. “I’m the failure for not making you see how much I care for you ages ago. I was so caught up in my own feelings and desires that I wasn’t even seeing you for the woman you are—who you could be to me if I allowed it. Who I could be to you if you let me. I’m a failure for not showing you how much I want you. Need you, really. You’re all I could ever ask for.”

She squinted her eyes in confusion as she leaned back to look at Loid’s face, searching his features for the slightest hint of insincerity. She found none, and the shattered shards of her heart began to stitch themselves back together. She felt warm all over. So warm as she took in the placement of Loid’s hands on her body, trailing up her thighs and pulling up the fabric of her dress with it.

“You want me?” she asked, looking every bit as insecure as Camilla made her out to be.

Loid’s eyes darkened to navy, filled with a fire she’d never seen directed at her before. He wet his lips with his tongue as he moved his hands to Yor’s knees, hooking them underneath to pull her up and into his lap, holding her flush against his body as he held her tight with his arm secure around her back.

“I want every inch of you, Yor Briar Forger. Inside and out, body and soul, to death do us part. Those were the vows we took, weren’t they?”

Yor nodded her head, too breathless to speak as Loid grabbed hold of her hand and lifted it up to his lips. He kissed every digit, trailing his lips down the line of her arm until he reached her elbow. He pulled her in then, wrapping her arm around his neck so they were impossibly close. Yor breathed in his scent, dizzy from the heady mix of her hair products and his cologne.

He smelled like home, her home. The home they were working on building stronger, together.

“Those vows we said when you were bleeding from the head?” she said, the tease coming easily from her lips as she settled more comfortably in his lap.

He hummed, the sound rich like honey in his throat as his lips touched her skin again, this time against the column of her throat.

“I was of sound mind even though I wasn’t of sound body,” he chuckled, the vibrations tickling Yor as he kissed the sensitive skin across her neck. “I haven’t taken the vows back.”

Yor nodded, arching her back as he found a sweet spot beneath her ear, kissing up to suck the lobe into his mouth with the slightest bite of pressure from his teeth.

“Neither have I,” she said, leaning into his hands as they worked their way around her body.

He grabbed the bottom hem of her dress where it pooled in his lap on one end and draped over his legs on the other. He pushed the fabric up so that all of it was loose and not caught beneath Yor’s body, then his hand snuck behind her back, trailing up the length of her spine until he found the zipper there, then he pulled back down.

“It’s a husband’s duty to make his wife happy. ‘Happy wife happy life’ is what all of the academy husbands say when discussing their wives. Do you want me to make you happy, Yor?”

Yor sighed as the red fabric of her dress fell off of her shoulders, the biting chill from the apartment shocking her system as she caught it before it exposed her chest. She searched his eyes as he looked up at her from below, touching her chin with his nose before he moved up, capturing her lips in a breathtaking kiss that made her hold on to him for balance.

His lips felt soft against her’s as they moved, the moment feeling too slow despite the rush of want coursing through Yor’s system. Everything in the world was pinpointed to him. His hands on her back, his tongue licking into her mouth, his warmth against her as he caged her in. Everything Yor didn’t know she needed was all encased into this moment, with Loid—her husband, in more than just name.

“Make me yours,” she said, her voice sounding more like a whine as she rolled her hips against the hardening length in his lap.

She removed her hands where they’d caught her dress from falling and she let the garment pool down to her waist, exposing her breasts still trapped in the confines of her bra. His eyes trailed down the valley of her cleavage, and that fire in his eyes turned into an inferno.

“Gladly.”

He got up out of his chair with Yor in tow, letting her dress pool onto the floor as Yor wrapped her legs around Loid’s waist to let him carry her. He wrapped one arm underneath her ass, holding her steady in his arms as his fingers played with the thin fabric of her panties that hugged her waist. The other hand held her jaw, pulling her down to meet his lips in kisses interlaced with his tongue.

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he carried her through their house, stopping in the living room only because something—no, someone—instantly came to mind as they passed by the floor full of Crayola drawings and Spy Detective merchandise.

“Anya.”

Loid stopped in the living room and sat them both down on the couch, having Yor stand for a moment so he could ogle her ass before having her sit down in his lap again, only this time her back was against his front.

“I’ll call Mrs. Bustelo. You lay there and look beautiful as always, darling,” Loid said, digging his phone out of his pocket to call their neighbor, the sweetest old woman who had grown to look after Anya often, given the sporadic nature of both Loid and Yor’s schedules.

Yor relaxed in Loid’s lap, tilting up her head to nose along his jaw, placing a trail of kisses as she impatiently waited for the phone line to connect. Her hips shifted side to side, causing Loid to bite down on his bottom lip to stifle a groan as a cheerful voice came down the line of the phone he had in a death grip in his hand.

“Hello, Mrs. Bustelo,” he said, his voice pinched as Yor whined her hips in tight circles as she kissed the sensitive point she’d found on Loid’s neck.

He looked down at her, nuzzling their noses against one another as their neighbor rambled on over the phone line. Yor’s eyes were filled with a mischief Loid would have never thought her capable of, but Yor felt as if her insides were on fire. Slick moisture pooled within the folds of her cunt as she inhaled Loid’s scent, kissing every part of his face and neck that her mouth could reach. A year’s worth of yearning brewed in her belly and she no longer felt as if it could be contained.

Loid wanted her too, and she needed to see all that desire brought to life with their bodies.

His cock throbbed against her where she sat in his lap, angling her hips to rut against his length through the thin layers of clothing keeping them apart. His light hold on her jaw tightened, just enough to convey the warning that was reflected in his eyes.

“Quit it,” he mouthed, making asinine conversation with the woman as Yor grew more and more restless in his lap.

She pouted, feigning innocence as she reached her unharmed hand back between their bodies. It’d already been a year, and all at once, it felt like a year too long.

“Or what?” she mouthed back, curling her lips into a smile that made her husband bite back a groan.

His eyes snapped shut as Yor ran her hand along the outline of his cock, applying pressure that made him clench his jaw in an effort not to make any noise. Yor should have felt some shame, toying with him like this with someone able to hear. Maybe the desire within her for someone to know he was indeed her’s—truly and only her’s—spurred on the act of dominance, but she wanted him now. She wanted to touch him and feel him inside of her. She needed him to make her whole in a way her soul hadn’t yet known.

“Please?” she whispered, her voice so light she wasn’t sure if she’d actually made a sound, but Loid understood, He heard her and sought out her lips as he leaned in to kiss her, putting his phone on speaker—and muted—before sitting it down on the back of the couch near his head.

“Anya’s being such a darling this afternoon. She and Bond are having the best time outside catching crickets, I’d hate to break them up. I’m assuming you need me to keep her, yes? Do you both have extra work hours again tonight or—oh! That reminds me. Have I told you two about—”

Both of them blocked out the voice as Loid dipped his head down to kiss Yor’s neck, trailing his kisses up before sucking a deep bruise into that spot beneath her ear. Her mouth fell open, desperate to make noise before Loid’s hand came up to place his thumb against her lips.

“Don’t make a sound,” he said, his voice fighting a tremble as Yor pressed down against him with the heel of her hand.

She kissed the digit keeping her lips closed, then in a spark of mischief she knew her husband noticed, she sucked his finger into her mouth, lapping her tongue across his fingerprint as a deep, maddeningly desperate sound got caught in his chest.

Yor giggled around his finger, pulling it out from the wet cavern of her mouth to intertwine their hands.

“Looks like I should be the one saying be quiet to yo—oh.”

His hand trailed down the tight plane of lean muscle that made up her abdomen, all smooth pale skin that begged to be bitten and marked by his teeth. He kissed her cheek as his hand breeched the lining of her panties, his fingers sliding into her slick folds with ease. He toyed with her clit, rubbing the swollen bud in tight circles as he bucked up against her hand.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet,” he said, burying his face in her hair as she nuzzled against his neck.

Yor giggled, having never heard the man curse that strongly before since most of their life was spent around a child. The word “baby” coming from his lips was the only thing that could top that little slip-up.

“Baby. You called me baby,” she said, a smile on her face as she ran her hand down the length of his cock trapped within his sweats to squeeze the tip. “Loid, I want you in me. I need to feel you, it’s been too long already.”

They moaned softly into each other’s mouths, soft pants and heated kisses making them breathless as they ground against each other’s hands. The months of not engaging with anyone in that way—their needs only being taken care of on their own—had taken its toll. Every nerve in Yor’s body felt raw and exposed beneath Loid’s touch, yearning for him to do something—anything—more to tip her over the edge.

“More. I need more,” Yor said, sucking her own bruise against Loid’s neck. “I need all of you.”

He groaned as he picked her up, the last bit of his sanity snapping as he lifted her out of the seat. He began to walk them back towards his—their—bedroom, but before they could make it even two feet forward they were brought back to Earth in a second.

“Loid? Loid, are you there?”

“Shit,” they said in tandem, falling all over each other as they stood in the middle of their living room and Loid rushed to clear up the situation over the phone, making up some excuse or another about why they needed a babysitter in the middle of the day on a lazy Saturday afternoon.

Yor wrapped her arms around his neck and let him hold her as he spoke, the deep baritone of his voice loud and muffled inside of his chest where Yor rested her head. His chest was so broad, firm yet soft in a way that felt comforting as Yor relaxed in the safety of his arms.

“Yes, thank you for taking her. We appreciate it. I—yes. Hi Anya,” he said, kissing Yor’s hair as he listened to the child speak. “Yes, Mama’s right here. She can hear you now.”

Loid flicked the speaker button on again, letting Yor hear Anya’s excited yelling about all the crickets she and Bond caught and her ‘harmless’ plans for them against one annoying, pig-faced, silver spoon-eating Damian Desmond when she returned to school the following week. All Yor could do was laugh, telling her that the best course of action for revenge is to not get caught.

“If you aren’t confident in your abilities Anya then don’t do it. You need plausible deniability, an escape plan, and you’ve already messed up by telling us the plan before it’s happened. Polish your skills and wait, my love. He’ll get what’s coming to him. Don’t worry.”

Anya sighed, groaning about the crickets before deciding to let them free into the yard again.

That definitely wouldn’t be a problem for their pest control later. Nope, not at all.

“Be good for Mrs. Bustelo, Anya. Mama and Papa will be here when you’re ready to come home in the morning.”

“Okay, Chi-chi. Have fun Mama!” Anya said, hanging up the phone before any of the adults were able to say goodbye.

Loid sighed into Yor’s hair, tossing his phone onto the couch before his cock twitched with interest again as he looked down at his wife’s face.

“You’re so good with her,” he said, scooping her back up into his arms. “I couldn’t have dreamt up a better mother for her to come into our lives.”

She fell into his kisses, letting every gasp and moan she wanted spill from her lips now that they were truly alone. She felt dizzy with lust as her back hit their mattress, seated near the edge as Loid lowered himself down on one knee to kiss down her body.

“I never tell you how grateful I am for you, for all that you do for us,” he said, sliding his hands beneath her back to rid her of her bra. “For me.”

Her breasts dropped out from the material easily, and Loid didn’t hesitate to show his appreciation for her body. His tongue was warm against her nipple, while the other was pinched with just the right pressure between his thumb and forefinger. He sucked, slotting his leg between Yor’s thighs as he flicked her nipple with his tongue.

“So good,” Yor whined, sliding down just enough to press her cunt against the firm muscle of his thigh, grinding down on it in an unabashed chase for her pleasure.

“We never christened our marriage bed. We’re overdue for that, don’t you think… Mrs. Forger?” Loid said, grinding himself against her hip as she chased her first release.

“Yes, please, Mr. Forger. Make me yours.”

Her orgasm bubbled up to the surface soon enough, guided by Loid’s whispers of sweet nothings and his mouth against the sensitive tissue of her breasts. As the high muddled her brain, Yor absentmindedly thought about how Loid might feel about her body if she were pregnant, swollen and full with his child—their child—with breasts developed to provide sustenance for new life.

Camilla’s words came flooding back then, chasing away the pleasure that had managed to momentarily flood out her constantly working mind. The frustration at that must have shown on her face, since not a moment later Loid was back in her space, kissing her cheeks to soothe what felt like incoming tears again.

“Where did you just go?” Loid asked, sliding his hands along the soft fabric of their sheets to grab Yor’s elbows, pushing her arms up above her head so he could get as close to her as he wanted.

She shook her head, her mouth fixed to say “nowhere” before the seriousness of Loid’s gaze crashed down on her. Yor was glad he didn’t give her that look in their day-to-day life, when she was lying to him about other things—more trivial things. But now, she couldn’t lie to him if her life depended on it. She felt naked as she saw herself in the light blue of his eyes.

“I—I let what Camilla said get to me,” Yor said, trying in vain to avert her eyes despite Loid being mere inches from her face. “She—I—god. I don’t know what we are, and when she poked at that, and brought Anya into it and our baby into it I didn’t know what to say I just—”

“Our baby?” he said, a million questions popping up in his eyes as he racked his brain for details of the night before, and then it clicked. “Ah, because she assumed we must be sexless losers who only co-parent? She had no basis at all for assuming that. She just said it to hurt you. So why should what she says matter?”

Yor chuckled, smiling as she pressed a kiss against Loid’s lips that he happily reciprocated. “I just mean that… she made me wonder what it is that I want, and I let her make me assume what you want. That you must want a second baby and that I’m not the woman you want to do it with, because of how this all started. It wasn’t fair to let her put words in your mouth.”

“But?” he said, seeing easily that there was more on his wife’s mind.

“But, I do wonder now if she was wrong. I just… don’t know what you want. You say now that you do want me but what does that look like? Do you only want my body? Do you want more kids? Do you intend for this to last?” she asked, searching his eyes for the answers. “We don’t have to decide anything right now, but what she said made me wonder if I’m what you want, for yourself or Anya or this… hypothetical new child. I’m just confused, at you and myself.”

Loid nodded, taking a moment to process everything Yor said before taking in a deep breath and exhaling it out with renewed energy. He slid his hands down Yor’s legs as he kissed her, dragging her ass as close to the edge of the bed as he could get without her falling off.

“I want you, for as big of a role as you’ll allow me to have in your life,” he said, kissing down her body again but not stopping until he reached his intended destination. “I want you in sickness,” he said, kissing her inner thigh. “I want you in health.” Another kiss. “I want you pregnant and happy with my babies, if that’s what you want. I just want you happy, light of my life. I wouldn’t have the life that I love without you in it, so whatever you want me to be to you is what I am. Your husband, in every sense of the word.”

Yor may have yelled when his mouth made contact with her clit, flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue while his fingers prodded her entrance.

“Please. In! In, in in,” she said, trying to fuck herself down on the digits despite Loid holding her waist down on the bed with his arm.

He listened well, inserting one finger into her tight heat before sliding in another easily with how much natural lubricant was soaking her inner thighs. He groaned when her cunt tightened around his fingers, no doubt feeling that sensation in the depth of his stomach as he longed for her to be around his cock instead. Still, he waited—ignoring the pulsing length smacking impatiently against his thigh. His arousal stained his boxer briefs as he got his wife off again against his tongue, sucking her clit with gentle tugs into his mouth as she rutted against his face.

“Loid, please,” Yor said, near tears for a different reason as her cunt spasmed around his fingers. “Please, I need you in me. Please. I want to cum with you in me.”

Yor tugged his head back with her hand fisted in his hair, crunching up to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss as she dragged him up to lay against her body.

“If you don’t fuck me like you mean it in the next ten seconds I will lose my fucking mind.”

He chuckled at that, standing up to free his cock from the tight material of his boxers. Yor couldn’t help but giggle when she looked at Loid’s hair, noting how messy it looked from Yor’s fingers running through the strands, gripping them for dear life to keep his mouth on her for as long as she needed it, but now she needed something else. More of him—all of him, every inch he had to give.

“Condoms,” Loid said, his eyes growing a size wider than Yor had ever seen them when the word was said out loud.

Yor’s mouth gaped open as she wracked her brain for an answer. They hadn’t done anything so there was no use for them in the home, at least that’s what Yor thought before every time she’d pass by them as she went down the aisle to purchase her own personal items. She mentally thumped herself on the forehead for not having the foresight for this. Now Loid would have to leave, go to the corner store, stand in line, get out their reward number, talk to the cashier, help th—

“We don’t have to use one, really, if you’re okay with that.”

Yor will never understand where the words came from, but once they were out of her mouth and into the air, she couldn’t hope to take them back. Loid looked contemplative, wrestling internally with himself about something before he looked down at Yor’s body. The peachy-pink flushed all over her warm skin, the weight of her breasts, the soft features of her face still relaxed with post-orgasmic bliss, awaiting another one.

Whatever struggle he had inside ended as he fisted his cock, jerking the length only enough to bring him back to full hardness before he leaned over Yor still perched on the edge of their tall bed.

“If it’s too much, you need to tell me. If you change your mind, tell me. I meant every word that I’ve said today. Every word, so whatever comes of this will be okay. I just want to feel you.”

He swept her up in a kiss and she nodded as she licked into his mouth, letting him push her legs up by the knees to rest her ankles on his shoulders as he stood over her on the bed, using the edge as leverage for his hands.

“Make me yours.”

“You already are, and I’m yours.”

There was a sheen of cold sweat on the surface of Yor’s body as Loid pushed into her, bottoming out and filling her to the brim with a groan so deep it sounded wrong coming from him. Her sweet, stoic, hardworking husband was a goner from the moment he entered her cunt, and she knew she looked no better as she fucked herself on his cock.

“I’m fine,” she said, knowing he was waiting for her to say something. “God, you’re perfect. So perfect. Please, Loid, move. Use me, I can take it.”

He nodded, pulling out until just the tip was inside, then he crashed back down. Once they found a rhythm, the deep strokes he was making into her cunt felt like music, the way something melodic and beautiful felt inside of her ears is how his cock felt inside of her body. So perfectly sized, moving with such fluid motion that Yor would have never pegged that the man—her husband—was capable of. The lower muscles of his abs pressed against her clit, sending sparks of pleasure so visceral up her spine that she feared the sensation may never stop.

Part of her hoped that it wouldn’t.

"Tell me,” Yor said, gasping desperately as his cock stroked all the right spots inside and out. She felt so full, delirious with pleasure as his hand went between their bodies to rub at her clit. “Tell me how you feel.”

Loid groaned, one long airy desperate sound as Yor clenched around him so tight, so perfect, as her high neared the tipping point again. Everything in the world felt right for them both at that moment, connected on the most intimate level with someone they’d not only chosen to be with out of circumstance but now by choice. It was everything and so much more than a man like Loid Forger imagined himself to be capable of. To feel, to want, to yearn for.

And it all came to a head just as they did.

“I love you, Yor Forger. I am blessed to have you as my wife and the mother of my child. I’d be honored to father your babies if you’ll have me. I—fuck. I love you. Yor, I love you. I—”

“Me too. I love you too. I want more, with you and for—our kids. Please, I want you to make me all yours.”

They came in quick succession after each other. Who came first? Yor couldn’t tell. All that mattered was the overwhelming joy she felt as Loid came inside her, joining them together as he reached his arms around her body to hug her with no intention of letting her go.

For as long as they both shall live.

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

so what'd you think? lmk. tyty for reading! see you in the next one || crossposted on ao3 — here || taglist — here ||

[kemakoshume]

Beneath the Wisteria Blooms ✾ — tengen x black!f!reader x rengoku 

warnings; none for this part! this is all introduction/world-building stuff :D there are original characters in this fic and this chapter has some ~language~ but that’s it ~

a/n; uh wtf lmao i added notes and everything got deleted... anyway lol fair warning this chapter mentions rengoku and tengen but they don’t get into the fray until next chapter! this was at [5.4k words] already so i decided to split it in half. here's the mood/vision board for this fic [here] if you're interested in a visual. song i wrote this to [here]. the reader is meant to be black but like always, anyone can read my stuff (as long as you’re 18+ and respectful). okay... that’s it lol enjoy ~ [ch one; ch two, ch three, ch four, ch five] ~

Two hundred and eighty-six days have passed since the last time your household hosted a hashira. Many soldiers have passed through in the time between—beckoned to the wisteria crest on your gates like moths to a flame practically daily, knowing they would be safe under your care. Mizunoe, hinoto, even some kinoe-ranked demon slayers have entered your doors and healed beneath the care of your hands in the weeks, then months, that have passed—but finally, that long wait has come to an end.

“Mistress. Mistress!” you yelled, your voice shaking. “There are two crows here requesting access to the home.”

The crows flew overhead, squawking their message down at you on a loop as you waited for the head of your household to dismiss their alarm. The small middle-aged woman appeared soon after, walking up from your left on bare feet in a perfectly wrinkle-free yukata. Her feet thudded lightly against the wooden flooring as she approached, sliding beside you to look up at the birds.

“So?” she said, scrunching her slim upturned nose in annoyance. “We’ve housed more than two guests at a time, and we have no visitors here for the night. Let them come. There’s plenty of space and I hear some of the girls preparing things already.”

Though your Mistress happily did her duty without complaint, you could see that the woman was irritated at the early-evening interruption. Her long dark hair was loose from its typical bun, and the late-spring air moved the pin-straight strands around her face beautifully, though it didn’t hide how sunken her light amber eyes looked with exhaustion against her pale skin.

In the wake of the last large fight with a higher-ranked demon, your home had been void of visitors for the first night in ages. All was quiet as mostly all of the home’s inhabitants—girls and young women, just like you, plucked from the streets and taken in to support and build up the diverse home—were also excited to have some downtime, so they’d all planned to turn in a bit early as well. Alas, as you both basked in the moonlight’s glow from where you stood in the open doorway, that dream was quickly dashed. The words interlaced within the crows' caws rid all thoughts of sleep from your mind.

“Mistress Miya, the crows both belong to a hashira—two different hashira,” you said, widening your eyes to punctuate your words.

The woman was speechless for a moment as she processed what you’d said, but sure enough, her tired eyes took on a soft sparkle under the night stars, and her dull skin regained its flush of rosy-pink color. “Two?” she said, placing her hands on your shoulders. “For nearly a year, there hasn’t even been one, and now there are two?” She nearly yelled the words, her breaths growing quicker as she turned around to face the crows.

She kneeled, whistling up at the crows to dismiss their loud caws. She guided them down to the sizeable station made for them to rest their wings beside the home’s large shoji doors. Both birds landed gracefully, fluffing their wings and dipping their bodies in the wide bird bath imbued with lavender-scented oils and wisteria blossom petals. The Mistress shuffled her feet, squatting in front of the onyx-feathered birds’ perch to put her body at their eye level.

“Can you tell us your names?” she asked, her moderately age-withered skin stretching and exposing fine lines as she broadened her smile. You stood behind her in the home’s doorway, looking fondly at the birds as they balanced on their sturdy wooden perch beneath the wisteria vines.

*caw caw* the birds sang, notably speaking over each other as they rushed to tell you their introductions. You focused in your ears on them both but caught more of what the smaller crow of the two had to say—which was plenty.

“Child, what did this little one say?” she asked, beckoning you forward to polish your skills with decoding the crows’ language. “Every word.”

You giggled as you approached the birds, crouching down like your Mistress to put yourself at their level. You glanced at the larger bird before speaking, but the tangibly humanlike irritation radiating from him had already commenced due to what his counterpart had to say.

“Okay, every word.” You cleared your throat, looking politely at the bird as you repeated her statement. “Well, this one on the left is called Manju,” you said, motioning to the petite crow with a smile. “She said first and foremost that her master, Rengoku Kyojuro, is mostly unharmed—having only suffered some mild bruising despite multiple days of battle. She wanted it to be known that she is a lady, wholly unlike the tacky brute perched next to her, and that she would appreciate it if we added seeds mixed with dried corn to the feeder for her tonight, as she hasn’t had the chance to eat in two days due to their tumultuous schedule.”

As you wrapped up your summary of Manju’s introduction, you noticed the larger crow of the two shuffling closer to her, not so subtly attempting to knock her off of their perch while he said his peace in retaliation, though Manju elegantly dodged the petty swipes at her feet that the other crow made with his talons.

*caw caw caw caw caw* he said, so loudly in the still night air that you heard the last of the girls housed on the second-floor stirring, triggered by the second wave of loud birdsong that made them get up out of bed. You sputtered, an unladylike laugh escaping your lips as you processed what the male bird was saying. Not only taken aback by how loud and brash the jewelry-laden crow was but also how much petty malevolence the small avian animal managed to pack into mere sounds.

Your mistress turned her head, looking at you with eyes that would have marked you dead had they physically been able to shoot daggers. “Mind your manners,” she whispered, nodding her head towards the crows as if she were completely unphased by their bickering.

“Sorry, Mistress Miya,” you said, wiping the budding tears welling along your lower lash line as you stifled your giggles. “Do I have to translate everything he said or only the important bits?”

The older woman shook her head, motioning for you to continue with her hands. “ Every word. I can’t judge your accuracy if you don’t repeat it all back. Besides, we can’t miss a single thing regarding their messages for everyone’s safety, no matter how many curses the messages contain. Go on.”

You nodded, clearing your throat as you recounted the crow’s words. “This dashing, handsome, flashy crow on the right is named Nijimaru. He says that his superior master Uzui Tengen is also unharmed besides a few minor cuts and scrapes. He would like nuts and berries cut flamboyantly for dinner, if possible. He also says that “useless bitch Manju” should watch her words since his crown’s jewels have more value than her “full of shit” existence. Also, he said she wouldn’t know fashion if a demon sliced her down the beak with it, so we should disregard her childish, shitty insults.”

The female crow made a high-pitched squawk, insulted again after hearing the words through your mouth. Then, she extended her wing in one swift movement, hitting Nijimaru hard enough to disrupt his balance on the skinny wooden landing pole, knocking him off.

*caw caw caw* Manju said before flying after the retreating male bird, following him into the bath as he tried to escape her presence—muttering something along the lines of, “stupid pea-brained woman, besting me? Ha! Never.”

Your Mistress whipped around toward you in surprise, panic blooming on the delicate features of her rounded face as you both processed what Manju said. “They’ll be here in twelve minutes?” she yelled, corralling you into the house while shouting for all the other girls to make haste.

Once you entered the genkan—the home’s large entrance foyer—you were met with the pleasant sight of all of your housemates already busy at work, tidying and cleaning whatever their hands could reach. The smell of freshly steamed rice, grilled meats, and cooked vegetables wafted up into your nose, and your mouth began to water. The youngest of the girls walked around the home, skipping and holding hands as they hung talismans for good fortune and flowers for both virility and muliebrity all over the place; while the older girls who were outside of the kitchen took charge of dressing and grooming each other, while simultaneously darting around to get the items sorted and prepared for their hallowed guests.

You couldn’t help but smile watching them. You took a moment to pat their heads and place quick kisses against their cheeks as you walked by, whispering ‘thank you’ in each of their ears as you did so. Your household had done this a million times, but seeing the girls get quicker and quicker with it every night felt rewarding—to see your small family coming together to make your home a safe space for the men and women who kept you alive made your heart swell.

“Ayra!” your Mistress yelled, snapping you back into focus as she called out for the second oldest of the girls—at nineteen—under you.

“Back here!” she yelled, her voice carrying into the home from the spacious forest-protected garden nestled beyond your back porch.

You walked around the side of the large house, careening down the long stone pathway, until you felt the temperature in the air shift where the path forked. Both you and your Mistress easily navigated yourselves down to the trail's end, stopping once you reached the sizeable hot spring shrouded thinly in dense steam.

Ayra was there kneeling, hunched over with her arm plunged into the lantern-lined hot spring. Had her soft grunts from her efforts not been louder, you might have missed her slim figure hunched over into the large spring of water. It was half-hidden by the home's awning and the immaculately gardened flowers and shrubbery and could only easily be seen when the wind blew south, and the steam cleared.

“Is it hot?” the Mistress asked, squinting her eyes to look on as the olive-toned young woman fiddled with the thick layer of rocks on the very bottom of the spring, using—what you could only assume—was a very long stick.

“Yes,” she quipped, groaning as she flipped over what must have been a hefty rock, “it is now. I just need to move a few more stones out of the way to make the temperature perfect. Did I hear the crows correctly? Are we hosting two hashiras? Master Tengen and Master Kyojuro?”

You nodded, though you quickly followed with verbal confirmation. “Yes, you heard right. I wonder what sort of temperament they’ll be. Normal men find it within themselves to be cruel and flippant. I can’t imagine how men with their power will be.”

You heard Ayra chuckle before the water sloshed violently again as she moved another rock.

“I’ll be frank; I do wonder the same. I’ve never met these two before,” your Mistress said, pursing her lips. “Though, the corps soldiers do tend to be pleasant enough to us—some a little more fervidly than others,” she said with a knowing hint to her tone that you ignored. “It’s true that men with power seemingly can’t help but abuse it; however, you will give them your grace. Maintain your self-respect, but be kind to them. They deserve that much from us.”

You nodded, a hushed ‘yes Mistress,’ leaving your lips as the tall girl removed her arm from the hot spring—along with her stick—and stood, straightening her back to wipe her damp hands and dust off her knees.

“The last hashira we had was a woman,” Ayra said, hiding her stick in the nearby bushes as she jogged up to you from the cloud of steam. “What a curious thing she was with that wild watermelon hair. I wonder if the men will differ much from her. I’ve heard all the hashira are strange in their own ways.”

Your Mistress tsked, darting her arm out quickly to smack Ayra firmly against her forehead with the small fan she kept hidden in her kimono sleeve. Then she turned on you, popping you swiftly on the arm by proxy of Ayra’s comment. “Mind your tongues,” she warned, staring at both of you sternly. “Every person has their proclivities; the hashira are no different. If you notice anything off about them, at least have the good sense not to mention it.”

Your Mistress rolled her eyes, ignoring your giggles as she turned on her heels. She yelled into the side corridor of the house, telling the other girls to make sure they were doing their best work since your guests were especially superordinate.

“We have nothing if not our good sense, Mistress. We take care of our guests just fine,” Ayra teased, sharing a look—and a wink—with you. “I’ve heard the town girls speaking about that ‘Master Tengen’. Allegedly, he’s dashingly handsome and courted three wives.”

“Three?” you asked, fiddling with the sleeve of your yukata. “And what of the other one? Rengoku?"

Ayra pouted, huffing in frustration as she shared her knowledge—or lack thereof. “I’ve heard no rumors about him that will do us any good, unfortunately. He deeply loves gyunabe bento, and his hair looks like a sunset. That’s all I know.”

Your Mistress rolled her eyes again, sliding her arms back into her sleeves. “Ayra, you should focus more on your chores or reading and less on gossiping.”

“Oh, please, Mistress. As if my gossip isn’t why you came running back here as soon as you got word that the men were hashira,” Ayra said, mischief alight behind her hazel-brown eyes. “Besides, I made sure the girls are on it. Sopheary and Yua are putting down all the bedding for the men in the big guesthouse. Prisha and Lucía are getting fresh samue for the pillars to wear once they’ve bathed, and they’ve already heated the bath meant for cleansing. Himari and Dorothea are cooking up those premium meats that charming hinoe-ranked boy dropped off last week. I smelled sukiyaki nabe, sashimi, aloo gobi, kafta, plenty of rice, and…” she hummed, placing her hands on her hips as she let the train in her brain run. “I think that’s it. That should be enough for just two of them. Don’t you think?”

You smiled, pleased with your friend’s leadership and efforts. “You have no idea how much I appreciate you, Ayra,” you said, scooping her up by her waist into a crushing hug. “That should be perfect—and if it isn’t, we’ll just have to make do.”

Once you placed her back down, you found yourself sniffing in her direction, realizing that her scent slightly mirrored the weight of her efforts, and you told her as much.

“Gods, Ayra. Bathe. And take your sister with you,” your Mistress said, scrunching her nose even though she was too far away to smell the girl. “Dunk into the lake behind the treeline with soap and haste! You have eight minutes. Ayra, coil your sister’s curls with pomade and let her do braids in your hair once you’re finished with hers. I’ll arrange the crows' food and double-check the children’s work.”

With that she turned on the balls of her feet, leaving the two of you alone under the bright glow of the moon. Ayra sprinted behind her into the home, coming back to you with supplies in hand. She cradled a wooden pail filled with a boar's hair bristle brush, soap, cloth for cleansing and drying, two beautifully detailed kimonos, and a small chest that housed all the tools and accessories for your hair balanced on top. You reached for the items as she walked up by your side, but the younger girl refused, shaking her head softly before she started walking down the stone path.

“Hey,” you whispered, leaning in close to her ear, “let’s use the stream on the west bank. The water is so much warmer there at this time of night you know, and it’s closer,” you said, placing your hand gently on her back to guide her down the warmly lit pathway.

Ayra chuckled, her mischievous smile coming back full force due to your words. “I thought the Mistress said we had to bathe behind the treeline, sister. What should happen if a demon were to see us? Or, worse, a man—or two?” she teased, feigning horror—much to your humor. “Our propriety would be ruined if we were seen in the nude. What would dear mother Miya say?”

You rolled your eyes, continuing down the path lined with large coniferous trees that kissed the clouds in the sky. “Wisteria lives abundantly in these woods and along the water’s shores, and bushels of the stuff steep the water’s whole body. So, there are no demons out here to spy on us."

“And the men?” Ayra smirked, holding on to you tighter.

“Should the hashira come from the west, then I suppose they’ll get an intimate peek into our preparations for their visit. But, of course, what the Mistress doesn’t know in detail won’t hurt her.”

“Oh really?” Ayra chuckled, shoving you gently with her shoulder. “I suppose that’s true. I suppose it is better that she not find out just how much of a salacious trollop her second in command is. For shame, dear sister—her heart couldn’t take the knowledge of all your “tending” to our frontline soldiers.”

You shoved Ayra back, taking the wash pail from her before skipping a few steps down the pathway. “Boo. You make me sound like a whore. I only entertain the soldiers I see fit, not just any old mizunoto who thinks himself to be a hero simply by existing and holding a sword,” you said, tilting your head back to look at her. “We are a rejuvenation home, not a brothel.”

Ayra grinned, skipping to catch up and stand by your side. “Yes, yes, my apologies. I did not mean to insinuate anything of the sort, sister. Besides, if I were to call you a whore, I would be pointing one finger only to have the rest pointing back at me. I’m still too sore to retake a man after that hinoe-rank,” she smirked. “I didn’t know men from the city could be so… hung.”

You smacked her arm, laughing off the ridiculousness of your conversation. “Gods, you’re so crude. Who’ll marry you with that mouth?”

“The same type of person who’ll marry you with yours.”

The sound of your laughs echoed through the dense trees for a while as you neared the edge of the forest—the chirps and caws that resounded alongside them were clear indications of the animals lurking around you.

“You don’t think Mistress would actually be mad if she knew what we get up to, right?” Ayra said, glancing over at you. “With the slayers, I mean.”

You hummed in contemplation, though the answer came to mind quickly. “Frankly, no, not really. I’m sure she’s heard some murmurs about our occasional activities by now, and we aren’t exactly the most subtle about it. The Mistress is a lot of things, but being clueless is not one of them. If she had a problem with either of us having fun with the men, you know she would’ve said something about it by now.”

Ayra nodded, sighing deeply as you continued down the wooded path. Although to be fair, your Mistress had never genuinely seemed concerned for your purity. She nagged, and fussed, and sang her woes often about the lack of a permanent male fixture in the home and her hopes and dreams for her girls, but neither of you truly aspired to be docile, submissive, untouched wives, and despite her hopes for you all, she seemed aware of that fact. Still, despite her goals for all of you to be given away eventually, she never took on requests from your guests that demanded any of her girls perform sex for any man, primarily when their requests targeted the youngest of your home.

She’d worked hard for many years to provide you with an environment where you could embrace the fun of your youth without having to play ‘oiran’ like the less fortunate girls did in the cities. She gave you a space to enjoy the small moments of passion and joy that life offered amid all the chaos beyond your wisteria-filled trees. You had a secure—good—home and family that filled your hearts to the brim. In the times at hand, that was all you could hope for.

“Fair point, harlot,” Ayra said, blowing raspberries at you before taking off in a sprint. “The last one to the lake has to clean the baths tomorrow.”

Your protests rang through the night air as you picked up your pace, holding the wooden bucket tight to your chest as you skipped to catch up with Ayra. You met her at her side as you reached the end of the path, skidding to a halt once you cleared the lining of the trees and looked out at the vast lake before you. The lake’s noise met your ears as the steady tide rolled on, lit well by the shining full moon peeking over the backdrop of tall winding mountains and the scattered lanterns glowing along the water bank.

Neither of you dawdled then; you undressed from your garments quickly as you walked down to the lake’s edge—laying your kimonos down neatly on the dry rocks away from the calm waters.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing this,” you said, looking up at the full moon in the sky. Nude and warm from the late-summer air blowing against your bare skin.

Ayra hummed, reaching out her hand to grab hold of yours as you waded into the calm waters—going deeper into the lake until the water wrapped around your hips. Ayra was taller, but she stayed near you in the shallower end to keep you from slipping on the smooth rocks beneath your feet. You kept your hold on her hand as you dunked your body beneath the surface, dousing your skin and hair in the lukewarm stream. Ayra did the same, not letting go of your hand for a moment as she laid herself backward to soak.

“This is lovely, sister,” Ayra said, closing her eyes as her body floated on the surface. “We should come out and swim more often. During the day next time, maybe? It’s beautiful here.”

You chuckled, splashing water in her direction, which caused the brunette to shoot up onto her feet in surprise. “Mistress is more patient than she lets on, but she would hang both of our heads out as snacks for the demons if she found us nude in the daylight—for any lowly passing merchant or coal miner to see.”

Ayra scoffed, splashing water back at you and landing a big smack against your face with the waves. “Okay, you make a fair point. Now hush up and bathe,” she grinned, rolling her eyes as she walked you back into the shallower end.

She reached up to the layers of rock where you left your bathing items stacked around the lake and grabbed a small bottle from the open chest that housed your hair products.

“Here you go,” she said, squeezing some of the cleansing funori mixture into her hands before handing it over to you.

You both quickly scrubbed your scalps, pulling apart any knots you felt tangling around your coily strands, while Ayra did much of the same—running her fingers and a wide-toothed tokigushi comb through her lengthy, thick, wavy locks.

“How much longer do we have?” you asked, joining hands with your friend again as you shuffled back into the deeper section of the water. You plugged your nose, dunked your head beneath the surface to rid your hair of the cleansing balm, and came back up with a small gasp.

“Not long,” Ayra said, swapping out the cleansing balm for some soap.

She gave you a towel and the bar made from milk fat and rice bran to cleanse with while she turned your back to face hers. She tilted your head slightly to ring out the excess water in your hair while you scrubbed your skin, scrunching the curls from the bottom to solidify the shape. She rubbed some pomade into her palms and raked her hands through it, twisting the messy small sections with her fingers to define the strands.

You closed your eyes and leaned into her hands, pressed against your scalp to prevent pain from her tugging. Though she’d done your hair a million times, she always ensured that the process was painless for you. Her years of practice with your locks showed, since she finished your hair in less than three minutes. She scrunched again with her slightly sticky hands, then clapped down on your shoulders.

“Gross,” you giggled, scrubbing where her hands had touched before rinsing the soap mixture. You tossed the towel you used away into the wooden bucket nearby, then repeated the same process with Ayra. The tall, tanned girl squatted to accommodate your height, her muscular thighs and long limbs sliding into the position easily.

In comparison, doing her hair took no time at all; your hands were practiced too—not only from doing Ayra’s hair but also from helping the younger girls with their myriad of different hair textures. First, your fingers moved quickly to form two thick braids that met in the middle of the back of her head, laying down flat against the loose bottom section of her dark—nearly black—hair. Next, you lifted her hair from underneath to allow the girl easy access to her own back, not wanting to get the soap into it as she rinsed.

“You’d make a great mother one day,” Ayra whispered, the words nearly lost over the sound of the water.

You chuckled, cupping water in your hand to rinse the stray suds off her torso's slightly fuzzy expanse. “Gods. Between you and the girls and Mistress? Please. You all keep me busy enough!” you said, softly smacking her back. “Copulation is fun, very much so, but I have no intentions of being anyone’s mother soon. I have you all. My heart’s full enough.”

Ayra grinned, turning to face you again now that she had thoroughly cleaned the soap. “Fair point. Copulation with no consequences it is,” she said, holding her hand in the air as if she were holding a glass to cheers.

You rolled your eyes but mimicked the c-shape of her hand anyway. “Hear-hear!” you said, smacking your hand against your friend’s.

Ayra threw her soiled towel into the bucket with yours, then grabbed your hand again to pull you both out of the water. You jogged up over the bank of the lake back onto dry land, beelining over to your clean clothes and dry towels that were safe and untouched by the water.

“I got the white kimono for you and a black one for me,” Arya said, giving you a dry cloth to pat down your body as she smoothed the clothing. “We can at least attempt to make you look the part of virginal innocence. Men as strong as they tend to have quite the thing for dominance.”

You rolled your eyes at the young woman, smacking her backside with the towel. “Hurry and dry so we can get dressed. The wind is starting to bite and the smell of the food is starting to entice my stomach.”

Ayra heeded your words, quickly drying her skin and slipping into her own kimono with ease. She took a small jar out from the little chest she’d brought and waltzed over to you, looking down at you as she dipped her finger into the pot.

“Don’t forget this,” she said, running her lithe finger down the line of your neck, leaving a light trail of scented wisteria oil on your skin as her hand moved downward; across your collarbones, down the line of your armpits, and around the swell of your breasts. “There,” she said, eyeing her handiwork. “Now, if you decide to play with the hashira—should they be handsome and worthy of you—they’ll be just as intoxicated by your scent as they will be by your beauty.”

The warmth of a blush bloomed beneath your skin, goosebumps rising on your arms as you slipped into your kimono.

You grinned, pulling your friend into a tight hug. “You flatter me, Ayra,” you muttered against her chest. “Are you sure you don’t want to engage? What if the rumors are true about that Tengen? Do you not wish to see how he managed to woo three wives?”

Ayra sucked her teeth, scrunching her face in contemplation before she shook her head, pulling away from you as a quick “no” rushed from her lips.

“And why not?” you scoffed, looking at the admitted harlot in surprise.

“Well… because there’s one more little rumor I’ve heard about him that I dared not mention in front of Mistress… and a rumor about his dear comrade Rengoku.”

You stared her down as you tied the large sash belt on your outfit into a bow—cinching in your waist and giving the look of definition in the shape of your hips.

“And what might that be?”

“Well,” she whispered, leaning in close to your ear despite no one around you besides the squirrels in the trees. “I hear they’re both huge men, in both height and in length, so the rumors say. Even more so than that hinoe fellow, who I fear may have ruined my insides.”

Your mouth fell slack, gaping as you blinked incredulously at your housemate. “What?”

She laughed, waving her hand in the air as if it could dissipate your worries. “Oh, don’t fret dear sister, you’ll do well. I’ll be there in spirit, living vicariously through you. You’ve taken more than one man before, have you not?”

“Yes, but—”

“No buts! It will be fun, and you will live to tell the tale. Besides, rumors passed through grapevine after grapevine are almost always exaggerated. The girl at the fruit stall couldn’t possibly have meant ‘cocks like horses’ literally.”

“Ayra!”

The girl ignored you, giggling to herself as she gathered your things, rushing you along to start your trek back up to the main home.

You bent down to grab your wooden pale off of the rocks, and a ping of something rang in your heart that made the muscle’s pace quicken. You turned, squinting your eyes as you looked out past the water, and up into the mountains. The cloud cover was low, and the mountains were tall and sturdy, nearly touching the sky. Still, there in the distance were the faintest dots of yellow and pink, shining as they reflected the light from the moon.

“Come on, slowpoke!” Ayra yelled, distracting you. “I hear the crows cawing. Their masters are close. We need to be there to welcome them.”

You nodded, turning your head quickly to look up at the mountains again, but there was nothing. As quickly as you thought you’d seen something, it was gone.

Ayra groaned, complaining about the heavy weight of the items balanced in her hands. You sighed—exhaling the breath trapped in your lungs as you turned slowly away from the lake, shaking away the thought of those intense blurs of color that glared predatorily at you from off in the distance. You grabbed hands with your friend, dashing back down the path through the trees again with smiles on your faces as you went to welcome the two men—the two pillars of hope for your futures—into your home.

tyty for reading! see you in the next one || crossposted on ao3 — here || taglist — here || tags: @bokuroskitten​ @rosesandtoshi @murdereddaydreams​ @crystal-lilac​ @mxgenderbender​

[kemakoshume]

Beneath the Wisteria Blooms ✾ — tengen x black!f!reader x rengoku (pt. 2)

warnings; no smutty cws (yet). there are original child characters in this, and more plot (derogatory). yes, this was an excuse to write tengen interacting with children—sue me!

a/n; remember how this was originally two chapters? well... i felt like i was forcing myself to rush to get to the porn and the quality sucked, SO i'm dividing what i've written into four chapters and fleshing it all out. this is ~[6.0k words]. i'm dropping the mood/vision board for this fic [here] again if you’re interested. also, a reminder, the reader is meant to be black but—like always—anyone can read my stuff (as long as you’re 18+ and respectful) ~ [ch one, ch two, ch three, ch four, ch five] ~

*caw*

*caw*

*caw*

“Lord Uzui Tengen approaches! Lord Rengoku Kyojuro approaches! West from the Mountain Jōnetsu, having defeated two lower-moon demons in the land of Kiken.” *caw caw* “The hashira are approaching!”

The crows’ caws rang through the night air, causing you to quicken your pace as you walked down the lantern-lit path to your communal home. The sky was alight with freckled stars and the warm glow of lanterns along the path lit your way easily—though, something deep in your bones weighed your legs down, like they were shrouded in lead.

“I already beat you to the lake, sister,” Ayra said, a few meters ahead of you as she skipped up the wide circular steps. “Should we make a bet about who makes it home first as well?”

You scoffed, jogging to close the distance between the two of you before stopping at the girl’s side. Your mind wandered as you went, preoccupied with thoughts of the night to come.

Ayra eyed you quizzically, looking down to steal glances at your face. “Are you alright? You’ve been dragging your feet since we hit the road’s fork. Nervous, perhaps?”

You looked up at Ayra, rolling your eyes in response to the very sly smile on the tall girl’s face. “When have you ever known for me to be the nervous type, sister?”

She hummed exaggeratedly, scrunching her face in that screwy—childish—way that your Mistress couldn’t stand. “Well… never. Still, I talked them up quite a bit with my rumors. They are hashira, after all—male hashira, too. They’ll be the first we’ve met since adulthood, hm? The thought of bedding men that strong can be nervewracking—especially if they’re as handsome as the rumors say.”

You hummed, sighing softly to yourself as you continued along the path.

“Don’t let your mind wander towards despair, sister; we haven’t even met them yet! The basket weaver’s daughter was the one who told me about the men’s beauty ages ago, but she very well could’ve been wrong. You know her eyes do go a bit wonky sometimes.”

“Ayra!” you said, smiling in disbelief at the girl’s words.

“What?” she said, her voice rising a few notches as she feigned innocence. “She’s a beautiful girl, but it’s true! I saw her mistake a pomegranate seed for a ruby once. So, perhaps we should not take her judgment on male beauty as gospel, hm? They could both very well be boorishly ugly—or not as experienced as one might imagine two well-traveled, highly sought-after, decorated men could be. Should that be the case, then all of your worryings will be for naught.”

“I’m not worried,” you said, though Ayra ignored your voice.

“And say they are handsome… who’s to know if they’ll desire to dominate you or mistreat you? Some men in power prefer the exact opposite. Or, they don’t prefer women at all—if you can believe it. Remember that kinoto-rank from the northwest that came by a few weeks ago? How he cried atop my breasts for hours because some swamp demon slew his mentor? They were lovers, I just know it. I guess it can’t be helped. Apparently, Samurai and demon slayers find solace in each other’s arms regardless of gender. Especially the more ‘laissez-faire’ ones who’ve lived in the populated districts in the south. So far, the men we’ve had aren’t as cultured as I would assume the hashira could be, but you’re no virgin. I’m sure you’ll manage to keep up with them someh—”

“Arya. Did you just say laissez-faire?” you said, a soft giggle following the word as it left your lips. “Wow, so you do read when you’re not busy collecting gossip like shiny new coins. I never would’ve guessed.”

Ayra sucked her teeth, knocking her arm against yours when she caught you smirking. You rubbed her arm soothingly, muttering soft apologies after you finished your teasing. Your laughs slowed as you exhaled a large huff of breath, and the path widened as you grew closer to your home.

“Truly, Ayra, I appreciate that you’re trying to perk up my spirits, but they’re not down. I was just enjoying the quiet of my mind before we host another night—nothing more. Suppose the hashira are indeed handsome and prove to be deserving of my time. In that case, I’ll indulge their urges just like the others who’ve shuffled onto their knees and begged for my affection, whatever that may entail. If not, I’ll do my required—professional—service thanks to their sacrifice, and they’ll be on their way in the morning. Mistress won’t force my hand either way, so there’s nothing to be nervous about. The night will be fine, whichever way the wind blows.”

You believed the words as you said them, but something deep in your gut stewed. Handsome men had come and gone as guests throughout the years you’d spent in the home, but none were as powerful as a hashira—not since you’d reached maturity and began your fun, at least. Nerves weren’t the right word to describe the feeling, but the anticipation lodged into your bones felt like magma along your veins; you felt yourself walking with bated breath to see what the night had in store.

Ayra made a jerky nod with her head, humming loudly in agreement with your sentiment. “Yes, my lady. The hashira will have a relaxing night—as will we. The involvement of semen in that equation will just have to be foreseen.”

You groaned, unable to stifle the gritty laugh that escaped your throat as you processed what your housemate said. “Ayra! Please—at least pretend to have some shame.”

The girl laughed, tossing her head back towards the sky. “Never. I will not be silenced,” she said, her giggles just as obnoxious as yours.

Any questions about nerves ceased after that, and you walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence—only narrated by the chirping of crickets and the crows chattering (loudly) to themselves, audible from your home’s entrance door back into the forest. You weren’t far, so the rear entrance of your home came into view before you knew it. Ayra sped up a bit, rushing into the house to sit down your used bathing tools in the washing bin, all of the items set aside to be cleaned sometime in the night or later in the morning. You sidestepped around her to sit on the bench against the wall in the wide entrance area—taking a moment to dunk your bare feet in the cleansing bucket by the wide-open shoji doors to scrub them clean before walking through the house.

The sound of sweet giggles filled your ears as you dried your feet with a towel and slid on your house slippers, followed by the incessant pattering of feet against the wooden floors. You tilted your head to the side, looking down the wide-open corridor to see all of your girls dressed and ready on the home’s main floor—all the girls situated into two even lines on either side of the plastered walls. At the head of the calvary stood your Mistress, flanked by the second youngest of your home—Sura—and her younger sister Sana—the sweet toddler holding onto your Mistress’s leg, half-hidden behind the skirt of the woman’s kimono.

“Look! See, Mistress? I told you they’d come back on time,” Sura said, stomping her feet in excitement as she held onto the older woman’s hand. Her rich chocolate brown hair sat in curled pigtails on the sides of her head, swinging along with the movement of her petite body as she swayed back and forth, pointing over at you with a broad smile as you threw your drying towel into the ‘soiled linen’ bin by the door.

You went up towards the front with Ayra in tow, touching the other girls’ hands softly as you walked down the path they’d created with their bodies—stood with their backs against the walls—out of the way, and prepared for the hashira to make their entrance. The only exceptions were the babies.

“Of course, we made it, cherub,” you said, bending your body at the waist to kiss Sura’s forehead. The young girl—only five years of age—swooned as you gave her attention. While Sana—only two (and a half)—was content, as always, with the soft touch of your thumb caressing her cheek as you spoke to her sister. “What kind of head maiden would I be if I were late to welcome such prestigious guests?”

Your Mistress scoffed, popping your arm with her free hand before softly nudging Sura towards Sopheary—aged twelve—and lifting Sana into her arms to hand her off to Dorothea—nearly sixteen. “You’re nearly late all the time. Don’t be a smart ass,” she said, with an eye-roll for emphasis, “that’s Ayra’s job.”

An affronted gasp came from behind you. Ayra placed her hand on her chest, feigning pain at your Mistress’s words. “She wasn’t being clever, Mistress. She merely meant she takes her duties seriously. Besides, you said she’s nearly late, but when is she actually late?

You stifled your laugh as your Mistress glared at Ayra, though the minor skirmish didn’t last long before the crows began their song and dance again.

*caw caw caw*

“Ladies,” Nijimaru said, seemingly clearing his throat—if that was possible for a bird, “my lord Tengen has arrived. Please welcome him in your home for rest and recuperation.”

*caw caw, caw caw*

“My lord Kyojuro has also arrived. Take care of him well,” Manju said, bowing her head as the sound of voices traveled through the air from just beyond your home’s large wooden gate.

The chimes attached to the wooden posts supporting your fence made light noise as the hashira knocked on the wood, shaking them and alerting you further to their presence.

“Okay, girls,” your Mistress said, turning her head to address the group, “best behaviors. Be hospitable. Mind your manners. Got it?”

You all nodded, a hush falling over the room as your Mistress walked down the entrance steps towards the gate. As head maiden, it was your duty to follow, so you did—padding behind the woman with evenly paced steps to greet the two men. Their silhouettes were visible between the thin slits in the woven pattern of the gate’s upper half. Even though the black of the demon slayers’ outfits made their torsos nearly invisible in the night, you could easily make out the bright orange and red atop one of the men’s heads, and the white hair pulled up into a ponytail on the other.

The two men were speaking to each other in hushed voices as you reached the entrance, though they stopped once your Mistress opened it and poked half of her body through the small slit she made to get through, checking to ensure that the men were who they should have been. You moved to the side a bit, coming up behind your Mistress to peek through the gate at the two hashira. The sound hashira—you could assume—was in front, speaking to your Mistress in a soft voice as he asked for clearance to enter, while the flame hashira stood beside him observing much like you were with your Mistress.

You couldn’t get the best look at them, given the low light of the forest-shrouded outdoors, despite the lanterns hanging near the property’s boundary. Still, from what you could see of the mens’ profiles—and the sound hashira’s arms— you knew the rumors the market girls spread had merit.

Ayra is going to have a cow.

“Thank you for allowing us into your home. I’m Uzui Tengen, the sound hashira,” the man said, confirming your suspicions, “and this is my brother in arms—Rengoku Kyojuro, the flame hashira. Please, use our first names and titles.”

The flame hashira smiled brightly, flashing both rows of his teeth. “We’re grateful for your hospitality!” he said, his voice confident and a touch too loud in the silence of the night air.

You giggled softly once before catching yourself, bowing your head slightly as the sound drew both of the hashira’s eyes. You waited a beat before glancing up at the men through your curled lashes, only to see a small smirk on the sound hashira’s lips as he looked at you curiously, and the flame hashira tilted his head forward slightly to get a better look at you from behind the fence.

Your mistress chuckled, subtly stepping to her left to shield you from view—not visibly shaken by Kyojuro’s enthusiasm. “Thank you for trusting us with your safety,” your Mistress said, with a pleasant smile as she spoke. “To ensure ours, you will have to place your weapons in the armory hold for the night—not out of reach but not in hand either—and of course, no shoes in the home. That being said, do come in. There’s a chill coming in; we should get you both fed and bathed inside.”

The sound hashira’s jewels jangled as he nodded his head, glancing at the wisteria crest on the fence as your mistress opened it wide. The two men looked ahead, walking in through the gate and surveying their surroundings. The courtyard of your home was spacious, with a large pond filled with koi fish and surrounded by trees that’d grown large and flower-filled with age. The wisteria vines hung from the branches in abundance, while petals fell and painted the ground purple due to the late summer wind. The large circular stones set into the ground made a path. The line of stones led into the open doors in the front of the minka, much like the ones in the back that created pathways to the various other parts of the property. You smiled softly with pride as the men looked impressed.

Your Mistress stepped around them to walk in front, followed by you, with the men following closely behind you. Her walk exuded grace as she took paced steps up onto the engawa—the wrapped porch wreathed around the entire property—before following you into the home’s genkan. The girls were in the room just past the foyer, hidden from view by wide opaque sliding panels.

The hashira sat down their weapons to remove their shoes, balancing them against the shoji panels of the doors to slip into the larger black slippers you kept for the men.

“May I?” your Mistress asked, motioning toward their swords.

“Of course, we understand the rules well,” Kyojuro said, picking up his sword to hand it over to your Mistress with both hands.

She accepted it with equal respect, then handed the sword over to you, jutting her head towards the grand armory armoire fixed into the wall in the home’s entrance area. You bowed, walking over to the dresser to unlock it—turning the nob on the dresser backward and forward in a pattern to expose the layers of compartments for swords inside.

“I’ll hang your sword here on the left, Lord Kyojuro,” you said, placing the sword on a mounted rack instead of one of the lesser hanging racks on the armory’s bottom half. “Lord Tengen, may we take your sword as well?”

The hashira smiled softly at you, sharing a glance with his comrade before speaking. “Ah, so the maiden does have a voice after all,” he said, his almond-shaped eyes looking at you respectfully. “Of course, you may.” He readily handed over his dual-wielded swords, the beginning of something on his lips as your Mistress took the weapons from him. She moved on reflex, taking the blades from him without hearing the last of his words.

She huffed as they reached her hands, attempting to stifle the slight tremor in her arms as she held on to the blades by their long handles. “Can you carry these, love?” she said, the question more like a statement as she pushed the swords out towards you. “You have youth on your side, and a much stronger back.”

You nodded, quickly walking up to her side to take the swords—black with gold embellishments and huge—from her. A deep huff of breath left your lungs as well as you slung the heavy weapons—safe inside of their thick cloth bindings—over your shoulder. To say you were unprepared for their weight would be an understatement.

“Careful.” The sound hashira appeared behind you, moving so fast despite the small space that you hadn’t heard a sound. “It’d be a great injustice to the world if such a pretty maiden were to lose her hands by accident carrying my swords.”

He held on to you from behind, supporting your forearms with his hands to relieve most of the sword’s weight. The man’s stature was noticeable from a distance, but up close, you were forced to acknowledge how large he was; his hands, his chest against your back, his large cuffed arms cradling your own as he pushed you forward with his weight; nothing about him seemed to understand the word “small.”

He walked in tandem with you as you shuffled toward the armory armoire and didn’t let go until the swords were safely contained inside the holder on the interior wall of the large dresser. “There we go,” he sighed, his voice light. “I’ve always heard the mountains bred strong women. It looks like there’s some truth to that, huh, Kyojuro?”

The flame hashira nodded, a firm “mhm,” coming out clearly behind his closed lips. “Both of you have great strength. It’s admirable.”

You swallowed hard, lowering your eyes as the warmth rose beneath your skin from the rush of blood just below the rich brown pigment. You glanced up at your Mistress through your eyelashes and saw her bow her head, accepting the compliment sincerely.

“Now then, let’s get you two inside. You’ve had a long journey; I imagine you must be eager to unwind.”

The two men agreed, standing respectfully to one side as your Mistress opened the genkan entrance panels. Both you and your Mistress walked up a step, standing on either side of the entrance. The hashira walked into the room, pleasant surprise on their faces as the girls—you and your Mistress included—bowed and said your welcome in unison.

“Wow, an assembly welcome. How flashy!” Tengen said, smiling as he scanned his eyes around the room. “We weren’t aware this was a boarding house. How lucky for you to have the help, maiden.”

Your Mistress chuckled, relaxing out of her bow to walk down the hall's center. The other girls stood straight as your Mistress tapped their shoulders, allowing them to stand up.

You do not miss the ill-hidden shock on Ayra’s face as she finally got to look at the men—especially not when her wide eyes flickered over to meet yours.

“We are, more or less. These are my adopted children—all saved from hard lives in some way or another. Still, they do work because they respect our home, not as a condition to live here. I am also not a maiden, though I have done a poor job at introductions, so I can see how the assumption was made.”

You giggled softly, knowing the smug smile on your Mistress’s face came from the hashira’s subtle assertion that she looked much younger than she was.

She cleared her throat, turning to face the men as she stood between the lines of her girls. “I’m Arai Miya—the headmistress and matriarch of this bevy of young ladies. I’m also the current sole proprietor of the estate, as I’m no longer married, and I lost my biological family to demons long ago. My head maiden,” she said, motioning to you, “is the eldest and my firstborn—so to speak. Ayra here,” she said, gesturing to Ayra (whose mouth was slightly slack as she blinked faster than you’d seen in ages), “is the second eldest. She often helps with affairs just as our head girl does. They’ll be around most often to assist you throughout the night should you need any assistance—though I’ll always be close by should you need mine specifically.”

The men looked between you both, nodding their heads in acknowledgment towards you with soft eyes and upturned lips. Your Mistress named all the other girls quickly, getting through the line of eight girls quickly before ending with the youngest—one of which was practically vibrating as she smiled at the two strangers.

“Now that that’s out of the way, I hope you find the accommodations to your liking. We’re honored to have you both,” she said, bowing her head deeply again in respect.

Tengen nodded, though the flame hashira was the one to speak.

“We’re honored to stay in such a lovely home,” Kyojuro said, bending his upper body in a surprisingly deep bow before relaxing again. “Your family has been the talk of the slayer corps for nearly a year. So we were delighted to find that our recent expeditions were so close. Knowing we’d be staying here once our missions were complete was a driving force in getting the work done.”

If you hadn’t known better, you might have believed your eyes when you noticed the rosy pink blush flushing on your Mistress’s pale cheeks.

“Oh, you must have learned young that flattery will get you anywhere, at least with handsome faces like yours,” your Mistress said, a look of unwavering confidence on her petite features despite the obvious effect of the hashira’s words. “Well then, come you two. The girls have prepared a hearty feast and heated the baths for you. Once you’re prepared to turn in, you’ll be staying in the east wing of our guest home for privacy. We also have our private onsen. It’s just a few steps outside of the guesthouse doors. Feel free to take advantage of that at your leisure.”

The men nodded, saying their thanks.

“Would you prefer to eat first or take a dip in the baths?” Ayra asked, joining your Mistress in the middle of the aisle. “We have leisure yukata should you want to eat first and samue for after you bathe.”

In unison, the men said, “food,” eliciting a giggle from the girls.

“Perfect. Then, Prisha,” she whispered, drawing the girl’s attention, “and Lucía will take you both to get changed and bring you to the dining area afterward.”

They both nodded, rushing words of thanks as the two thirteen-year-olds whisked the men away towards the side of the home into a tatami room meant for changing.

The rest of you dispersed, the younger girls plopping down to sit in the home’s living area adjacent to the dining room while your Mistress went deeper into the house. Ayra looped her arm around yours as you headed into the kitchen, barely containing her squeals as you walked into the warm food preparation area.

“What the hell,” she said, safe alone with you in the room. “I owe Yuri my deepest apologies. I will never doubt her judgment of men again. Should I ever decide to embrace blind dating, I will go solely on her recommendations.”

You chuckled, pulling out your best plates and bowls and placing them onto gold trays lined with ruby red details that matched the flame hashira’s eyes. “They are handsome, aren’t they? I kept my expectations low to avoid any disappointment but… wow.”

Ayra scoffed, spooning soup on top of various types of meat and vegetables in large ceramic bowls while you placed cooked food onto plates.

“Wow, is an understatement, sister. I don’t think I’ve ever likened myself to the petty town girls who thrive off of spite and jealousy, but I may envy you to a dangerous degree after the night is over. God,” she said, a rough sigh coming from her throat, “I should have saved myself. Was that hinoe boy worth it? Well—admittedly, yes. He was wonderful. Am I still sad to be missing out on the hashira? Yes, yes, I am.”

You giggled, bumping her thigh with your hip as you arranged more plates. “You’re presumptuous in assuming they’ll even want to bed me. They’ve had a long week; they may be tired. Men are also capable of abstaining, you know.”

Ayra groaned, waving the words away with her hand. “Oh, please. I saw the way they both looked at you, sister, despite Mistress being the one speaking. You just don’t pay enough attention in the moments where you’re not being spoken to. Half of all flirtations occur when one isn’t paying it any mind.”

You sucked your teeth, muttering “whatever,” as you floated around the kitchen to grab spoons and chopsticks for the men to eat with. “Set aside a bowl or two for us,” you whispered, pinching Ayra’s backside as you walked back over to the plates.

As you packed the last bowl with rice, you heard the girls clambering to get onto their feet, their low murmurs audible to your ears as they greeted the men who’d walked into the room. You peeked your head out to look into the dining room, only to see the hashira being guided to sit down at the large main table by Yua—age eleven—while the other girls stood to the side with bated breath as the men took their seats.

“Can you finish these?” you asked Ayra, taking her quick “yup,” in stride as you dried your hands and went out into the main room, taking the starter dishes you could carry on your own.

Your Mistress returned then, instructing Himari and Dorothea to assist Ayra in the kitchen with the rest of the food.

You approached the two men, being careful with the bowls of hot soup as you kneeled to place them down gently, along with two heaping bowls of white rice.

“Were you a barmaid before you moved into this home?” Kyojuro said, sliding the full soup bowl closer without spilling a drop. “You have exceptional balance, and very flexible wrists.”

You looked down at your own hands, having never gotten such a comment on such an inconsequential feature of your body. “Oh—well, no, I wasn’t, but thank you,” you said, a small huff of laughter accompanying your words. “I’ve lived here since I was a small child. I’ve learned how to care for guests well from my Mistress.”

You glanced over at your Mistress who was watching you fondly, rubbing Sana’s dark brown curls as the sleepy toddler cuddled against her side.

“That’s lovely—how she looks at you with pride,” Tengen said, a soft smile on his face as he tucked into his rice.

You smiled, averting your eyes from the men’s heavy gazes, then jumped, slightly startled as Ayra's voice carried loudly from the kitchen.

“Coming through!” Ayra said, announcing her exit as she walked out of the kitchen with the other two girls close behind—all carrying a tray or two filled with food.

The girls laid out the spread easily, having done it more times than you could ever hope to count. The distraction came at the perfect time, as the hashira’s eyes were drawn to the various food dishes instead of you. Their eyes grew wide as they looked down at their meal, and they wasted no time scarfing down this and that with muttered exclamations peppered between their bites.

Your Mistress eyed the group of girls, then the men—visibly satisfied that the hashira liked their meal. “If you’re settled, then we’ll leave you to your dinner. We’ve encroached on your peace for long enough.”

Sura detached herself from Sopheary’s side, soft whines spilling from her lips as she ran up to your Mistress.

“But, Mama,” the girl said, a prominent pout on her delicate features. “What about our gifts?”

Your Mistress sighed, hushing her tone to talk to the child.

“Can it wait until morning, lovely? I imagine they want to eat and rest.”

Sura pouted harder, her bottom lip quivering as if she meant to cry—though no actual tears were coming out.

“It’s no bother,” Tengen said, though he hadn’t looked like he’d been listening to their conversation. “We always have time for a gift, especially when such sweet little hands give them.”

Your Mistress relented, lightly pushing both Sura and Sana—who looked shaken to be moving closer to the men—forward, the two girls holding hands.

“You’re Sura, correct?” Tengen asked, his eyes soft as he looked down at the children, still multiple feet taller than both of them even while he was sitting down.

She nodded her head, a cheesy smile on her face as she attempted to maintain eye contact with the man. “This is my baby sister Sana. She has a talisman for you,” she said, her voice easily heard despite her shyly contained confidence.

A smile bloomed on Tengen’s face as he looked down at Sana, holding out his hands in wait for his gift. Perhaps it was merely because the man was so large, or maybe crushes developed earlier than you once thought, but Sana cowered even more than usual behind her sister as both of the hashira’s attention was drawn to her.

Tengen’s face softened even more at the child as he noticed her body shuffling farther away from him. He made himself smaller—turning away from his food to face her then leaning forward to rest his weight on his elbows, putting himself closer to the child’s eye level. “May I see your gift?” he said lightly, extending his cupped hands out in front of Sana directly.

Sana broke her eye contact with the man to look over at you, her big onyx-colored eyes round as saucers as she grabbed onto her sister’s dress.

“It’s okay,” you said, whispering the words as you nodded your head towards the man. “You’re a brave girl, Sana. You can do it,” you said, supported with small cheers for the child from your housemates.

Since your Mistress had taken both Sana and Sura in less than a year ago, the younger of the two was still remarkably shy—but you were slowly but surely working on chipping down her walls. It was a stark contrast to her sister Sura, who was so friendly to every person she ever met that you constantly warned her of strangers who would wish to take her away, just to avoid having her walk off with someone foreign. All of your girls were somewhere on the spectrum between the two youngest’s temperaments—some having been rescued from brothels, while others were meant to be sold off as property from poor parents who couldn’t care for them well. A few were merely saved from poor orphanages, like you, but you all came from different backgrounds and walks of life, and seeing each other be as well-rounded and happy as possible was your Mistress’s ultimate goal.

With your support, the tiny child flicked her eyes up towards Kyojuro, then Tengen, and after a moment of contemplation… she pushed herself forward, sprinting at the two men as fast as her tiny legs could carry her. The distance was very short, but she managed to skid to a halt before running into Tengen’s hands. Still, her coordination with her own hands was new. It thus wasn’t great, so when she (slowly) pulled the small omamori talisman out from the gigantic pocket in the lining of her kimono’s obi, she nearly dropped them. However, the sound hashira caught them so quickly they didn’t even have time to descend towards the floor.

“Wow,” the man said, turning the two brightly-colored shiawase talismans over in his hand, pleased to see that the prayers were full of “happiness” energy. “These are flashy indeed. You have great decorating skills, little one. You could be an artist.”

Tengen handed one of the packages over to Kyojuro—who’d moved by the other man’s side to sit with his legs crossed. The sunset-haired man’s smile grew wider as he bowed his head towards the child.

“These remind me of the talismans my little brother would have our father buy during the autumn festivals,” he said, his voice notably soft. “I will carry it on my person always.”

Sura practically beamed with excitement as she reached her hand down into her obi, fishing out two more omamori that differed significantly in color from the ones you had helped Sana make. “I made some too!” she said, a smile so big on her face that it crinkled her eyes. “Sana’s charms are for happiness, but mine are kaiun—for luck! It’s gold, like your hair.”

Kyojuro chuckled, taking the talisman from the girl and holding it up next to his head. “I think it’s a perfect match. Perhaps I will tie it into my ponytail from now on.”

That drew a laugh from the group, even your Mistress, before the hashira placed their talisman inside their yukata’s pockets.

“Wow. We thought we saw angels frolicking in the waters around the edge of your woods, but it looks like they live inside your home as well,” he said, his eyes finding yours for a moment as he turned back towards his food. “Thank you for your good fortune, little ones. We need all that we can get.”

Your Mistress smiled, beckoning the children towards her with her hand as Tengen lightly rubbed their heads. Sura beamed as she ran back to your Mistress, while Sana—surprisingly—ignored her, walking between the two hashira, rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Thank you for indulging them,” your Mistress said, scooping Sura into her arms. “Now then, girls—”

“Oh?” Tengen said, glancing down at Sana with a knowing smile on his lips. “I can hear someone’s tummy rumbling. Why don’t you all join us for dinner? There’s more than enough space for all of us.”

The girls giggled, lightly teasing Sana for trying to be mischievous.

“Well,” your Mistress said, the intent to decline already evident in her eyes, “we couldn’t possibly. The younger ones have eaten already, twice—for good measure—and this hungry one here is still taking milk from the neighbor’s wet nurse, along with peaches and rice. She can’t handle a pallet quite this large yet, but I do thank you for your kindness.”

The men nodded before the sound hashira looked over to where you stood beside Ayra near the kitchen’s entrance.

“Understood,” Tengen said, his maroon-colored eyes so deep and dazzling. “What about your eldest girls then? This one’s stomach is louder than the child’s,” he said, motioning towards you, “and her friend here has been inching closer and closer to the kitchen the longer we’ve spoken. But, of course, they’re welcome to eat; I’m sure they worked up an appetite preparing for our visit.”

You shrunk in on yourself, half hiding your face with your curls as Ayra stifled her laughter.

“Ah, well,” your Mistress hesitated, approaching the men to scoop Sana up with her other arm. “We typically eat in our quarters, but if you insist….”

“We insist,” Tengen said, eyeing both you and Ayra. “We’ve had no other company for over a week. So we welcome the opportunity to hear voices besides our own—or the crows. These two seem to talk quite a bit. They’ll make lovely company, if they’d like to eat with us.”

Ayra answered for you, a quick “yes, sure we would,” coming from her lips before you had the mind to answer.

Your Mistress nodded, ushering the girls into your communal space on the other end of the house. “Just yell if you need me.”

And with that, she was gone, and you were alone with the hashira.

tyty for reading! i hope you guys are liking this series (that was originally just supposed to be a smut oneshot but i digress) 💛 speaking of smut... it starts next chapter woohoo || crossposted on ao3 — here || get added to my taglist — here || tags: @bokuroskitten​ @rosesandtoshi @murdereddaydreams​ @crystal-lilac​ @mxgenderbender

[kemakoshume]

𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞-𝐦𝐨𝐢 (alpha sukuna x omega afab!reader) — pt. 2 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

warnings; lmao okay let's go down the list — ABO dynamics! she/they enby omega!reader (pronouns used interchangeably, reader is referred to as a girl via pet names— i.e. baby girl, good girl, etc). alpha!sukuna, office/modern times au—no curses, boss x employee dynamic. office sex, oral (f!receiving), one singular clit spank, ass play (not full-on anal), asphyxiation/breath play, orgasm delay/denial, light dom/sub, sex toy/vibrator, overstimulation. i think that's it lmao pls lmk if i need to add anything else!

a/n; "eh, i'll just write a little epilogue" — the epilogue: [10k words] idk what happened either i just blinked and this showed up in my google doc, don't look at me. pt. one; pt. two ♡⁽⁽ଘ( ˊωˋ )ଓ⁾⁾ʚ enjoy! || ~ crossposted on ao3 in case you prefer reading long fics over there ~

“So, in summary, you — Sukuna — were asked to aid the subordinate in an abrupt, unplanned, heat — spurred on not by a prior relationship of any kind, but primarily because you were the only alpha in the vicinity that was awarded the omega’s trust. That resulted in four — no, five — days of intimate exchanges that have culminated in an amorous relationship, of which the two of you require human resource mitigation in regards to work circumstances. Does that sound correct?”

You look over at the alpha by your side, reaching out your hand beneath the heavy oak table to grab hold of his. “Yes, that’s all correct.”

The manager turns her attention towards the man, raising her eyebrows as she reiterates the question. “Sukuna?”

“Yes, Utahime,” he nods, squeezing your hand softly. “You're correct.”

“Okay, good,” the woman says, scribbling her initials across the side margin of the document sitting on the table before her. “Now, last thing. I have to ask… are you confirming that the intimate nature of the relationship will continue? Even if it isn’t, we still need to go over our next steps, but it’ll help me out a ton going forward if we’re all on the same page about this.”

You can feel Sukuna’s eyes fixed on the profile of your face, and when you look over to meet his gaze all you see within his eyes are questions. Does this mean we’re meant to be mated? Do we even like each other outside of the hormones and hedge fund conferences? Is this worth our careers?

Your mouth falls agape, opening and closing with a mumble of words with no meaning. What if you weren’t on the same page? What if it meant more to you than it did to him? What were you, exactly? The questions swirled in your brain, trying to seek refuge in memories of words spoken between moans, and sweet promises made over the sharing of meals. Still, when faced with the question in such a clinical way — even after the long two days of non-heat conversations the two of you had and the years you’d spent knowing him prior to this — the answer was still somewhat hard to find.

“I think it’s fair to say we have some things to figure out,” Sukuna says, his eyes not leaving yours as he takes the reins, “but, the chemistry is there, and to be completely frank, it’s way too strong for me to ever look at her as just an employee ever again. I don’t think I’d have an easy time following any of our employee ‘harassment’ clauses with her around and I definitely don’t think I could go the whole workday having to pretend she’s anything less than my — well, like I said, I think we still have some things to talk about. Still, unless I’ve misread something, I think it’s safe to answer that question with a yes. What do you think?” he asks, passing the question back over to you.

You grin, drinking in his words and all of their implications — along with the passing thoughts of the days worth of merriment you spent shacked up in your home together. You feel your cheeks and neck growing warm, and your mouth going a bit dry. You clear your throat, trying and failing to hide the train of thought your mind has wandered down.

“I think… I agree. We have a few years worth of familiarity and we now have some… experience with each other outside of that, but there’s still plenty to learn. Lots of dates to catch up on, lots of questions to ask, lots of likes and dislikes to be learned.”

“Lots of long nights we’ve missed out on to make up for,” he teases, uncharacteristically quietly for him, though his words are still very audible in the close quarters around Iori’s desk space.

“Ryomen,” she warns, her eyes serious, though the smile on her lips is soft. He apologizes, squeezing your hand gently again as Iori fixes her gaze back onto the paper. You smack his arm softly, though you’re unable to hide the growing smile blooming on your face as you do so.

Iori scribbles down more words and signatures across her paper, quickly typing up something on her computer in tandem with her notes. She clicks a button on the screen and her printer comes to life, popping out a few sheets of white paper covered top to bottom in black ink. She reaches back her arm to grab the sheets from the device, turning them around and placing them in front of both you and Sukuna on your shared side of her desk.

“So, this top sheet is for both of you to sign. It’s just an acknowledgment of the disclosure about your relationship, budding as it may be, and it summarizes the order of events. It also has a confirmation statement from the employee relations department acknowledging their clearance of both of you from any wrongdoings. Please sign that, after you both read it. Your signature on top,” she says, motioning to you, “and your signature on the bottom,” she says, placing a spare pen down on the solid wood of the desk beside the papers.

You both read through the document quickly, nodding towards each other once you’re done. Sukuna signs across the dotted line first — his signature and printed name done in handwriting so pretty that you’re always a bit shocked to see his words written down. He hands the pen to you, holding the top of the paper down flat with his palm to keep it from moving while you scrawl your own signature above his.

With that, Iori takes the top sheet away, quickly shifting the papers so that they’re only sitting on your side of the table. “Now, for this next part, I need to speak directly to you. I’m assuming you’re familiar with our chief operations officer, Mei Mei. Correct?”

You nod, staring at the fair-skinned woman in wait for further explanation.

“Well, funny timing. She has officially extended an offer for you to come on board as her executive officer of operations — slash, head project manager. We haven’t exactly figured out the terminology of the role completely yet. I apologize,” Iori chuckles, twirling a Santos De Cartier rollerball pen between her lithe fingers. “But, anyway, this decision shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone; truthfully, we’ve been debating on who should fill the position for a while and you were at the top of the list long before this little ‘situation’ came to light. The final pick, being you, was made well over a month ago, but Mei Mei hadn’t been sure when to extend her offer. It would’ve screwed us if we had to let you go too soon. But now, all the associate executive training is done, and — after some internal review —we concluded that nothing unsavory was happening between the two of you prior to this past week. So, all the loose ends are tied.”

You look over at Sukuna, a grin curling the corner of your lips as you take in the smug smile painted on his. “Wait… Mei Mei wants me to come work under her? So… that means—”

“Congratulations on the promotion, and the six-figure raise,” Iori winks, placing her pen down beside her computer’s keyboard. “You’ll have to report to Mei Mei in her office on the flip side of downtown starting on Thursday, should you accept the offer and if the immediate start date works for you. This change in position will remove you from Sukuna’s direct subordination, so you two can continue whatever this is that you have going on, and we don’t have to lose either of you. I think they call this a… win-win?”

You chuckle, though the expression doesn’t stay on your face for very long. “But,” you hesitate, exhaling a slow stream of breath, “I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I mean, I’ve only been here two years, and the company is still so new relative to that, and I’m sure there must be someone else with more experience or know-how than me that would have been a better fit. I just… I gave myself time to mold myself for this role that I’m currently in. I wasn’t really prepared to jump up to third-in-command overnight. I just — it feels sudden. And, won’t people think it’s a bit fishy that I was gone for a week — so was my boss — now we both come back, at the same time, and all of a sudden I’m changing locations and working a new position that makes triple my old salary? I just… I don’t want anyone to question how I got this.”

Sukuna shakes your hand a bit, drawing your attention.

“Bunny, isn’t there a saying about this? Something like… ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?” Sukuna says, his voice teasing. “Listen, I need you to understand that you aren’t being given this opportunity. I had no pull on this decision at all, this all came down to Mei Mei and Nanami’s final deliberation. You fucking earned this! We’ve tripled our profits annually every year since you’ve stepped into your position. You’re quick as hell at the mouth and we’ve doubled our clientele base because of it. I mean, you talk circles around these guys we deal with every day and you make them see things your way. Not only that, but you make them think it was all their idea in the first place. It’s insane, and very… interesting to watch, to say the least.”

Iori clears her throat, a very knowing look on her face as she stares Sukuna down.

He grins, taking the opportunity to kiss the top of your hand. “Sorry, I’ll stop. But, [y/n], the only thing you need to be worried about right now is what color you want the walls painted in your corner office. You were great in your position here — amazing in fact, and everyone knows it. Now, you get to show off your shit at this new job. You’ll be great at it. I wouldn’t have pitched you for it all those weeks ago if I didn’t genuinely think it was true.”

You look into his eyes, the ruby-red sparkle in them calling out to yours. You feel your heart swell as you take him in — all of it in, really. It’s just… so much, so fast.

“Well, to be fair,” Iori quips, bringing you both back down into the moment, “Mei Mei was prepared to wait on an answer anyway, so you don’t have to decide on the offer right this second. It’s a big jump, I can’t fault you for being a little hesitant. However, I do have to explain that — given your position in the company — there’s not much else we can do with your employment here if you don’t want to move up. Unfortunately, you can’t work here and stay on as Ryomen’s direct report, but you’ve climbed the ladder here so quickly there’d be nowhere else for you to go, at least in our location, should you not accept the offer,” she says, her top lip curled down towards her bottom one. “Likewise, Sukuna is our chief information officer. So, to say the least, losing him in that role would also fuck us. But, [y/n]... you are nothing short of brilliant in your role. You’ve made us millions in profit, you’re constantly innovating new things for our customers, and investors, and overall… you’re a superstar. It’d be a huge loss for us if you decided not to stay. But, you’re free to do what you want in your personal life. Neither I nor Sukuna can, nor should we, make that decision for you.”

The alpha nods, squeezing your hand one final time before letting it go. “You heard her angel. The decision’s all yours.”

“Yeah,” you nod back, sitting up straighter in your chair as you reach over to grab a pen from Iori’s desk. “It sure is.”

“Alright, your paintings are officially bubble-wrapped and your coffee mugs are safe inside their padded box. Is that everything?”

“Almost. I still need to clean out my desk drawers, rehome these last three plants — but honestly, I think I can just leave them outside the door and someone will take them, then… I think I’ll be done.”

Nobara hums, loitering beneath the doorway of your nearly empty office. “It looks so weird in here without all your stuff,” she says, looking around the almost empty room. “However, you do realize that the whole point of your boss arranging a moving company for you is that you don’t have to do any of the packing or the moving… right?”

You chuckle, popping open a new moving box and sitting it on top of your office desk. “I know,” you groan, plopping down into the desk chair, “I just… wanted to go through my stuff to see what was a keep and what was a toss, but then I started really going through it all, and getting memories behind a lot of it, and I couldn’t help myself. At least now I know it was all packed with love.”

Nobara rolls her eyes playfully, walking into the room and sitting down on the newly exposed and vacuumed carpet. “I get it. This was basically your second home for the last couple of years. I imagine it’s a little hard to leave.”

“A little,” you scoff, a sad smile crossing your features. “I really am gonna miss this place. The catered food, the second-floor espresso machine, casual dress, ‘bring your fur child to work’ day, bar crawl night, the food delivery discounts, the weekly massages, the office parties…”

Nobara smirks, her eyes trained on you as she watches you dwindle down the list. “Oh please. Mei Mei’s office has everything we do, plus: comped hair appointments, makeup and skincare consultations, financial advisory, and I’ve heard rumors that she gives you a company credit card that rewards cashback and airline miles that she lets you keep. Frankly, I don’t think you’ll miss it here too much once those perks start rolling in.”

You chuckle, drawing your legs up to cross them in your lap, looking fondly at the beta woman. “Fair point. She does love making sure her people are taken care of and on her level. Still, it won’t be the same. The people there won’t be… well, you guys. Can’t replace that.”

Nobara rolls her eyes, rocking back onto her tailbone with her face towards the sky. “God, stop it. You were sappy enough during your going away party yesterday. I can’t handle it again today.”

You tease the beta, imitating her poor attempts at concealing her sniffles when you’re interrupted, the last person to stop by your office on the ‘office goodbye tour’ peeking into the doorway.

“Hey. Am I interrupting?” Maki says, poking her head into the room. You shake your head no, waving her in through the agape door of your office.

“Wow, I came to help out but it looks like you two got all the major packing done,” she says, looking around the barren room. “Well, not to add to the pile but I come bearing gifts. The whole department chipped in and got you one last thing as a ‘final goodbye’ present.”

She pulls out a wide black box from the large pocket in her briefcase, sitting the package down in front of you on your desk.

“Oh, what’s all this?” you say, your voice light as you stand up to open the box, eyeballing the myriad of items tetris'd neatly inside: a miniature Dior perfume, a labelless golden pendant necklace, Clase Azul Reposado Tequila, macarons, and a candle with a custom “good luck finding better co-workers than us” label with all of your associates’ names listed in tiny font.

“Aw, Maki! This is so sweet,” you say, the tears left unshed threatening to spill over in your eyes. “Thank you! God, you didn’t have to. This stuff is expensive! How did you even get all this?”

The older omega chuckles, crossing her arms across her chest. “Ryomen pays us all pretty well, you know. Also, Miwa down in sales has a connection that does VIP gift boxes at a big discount so we didn’t break the bank too much. Besides, you deserve it, and this promotion.”

You round your large desk, pulling the fellow omega into a tight hug. She tries to fight it, but after a few seconds, you feel her sigh in relentment, wrapping her own arms around you in a loose hug. “I should’ve let Itadori come give this to you instead before everyone left. Of course, I end up being the last one here to see you off. Well, and Nobara I guess,” she huffs, absentmindedly tightening the hug. “As the French say, ‘tant pis.’ I guess I’ll accept this on everyone’s behalf. You’re lucky your hugs feel nice and your hair smells like grapefruit.”

“Oh, whatever Maki,” Nobara interrupts, hopping up from her place on the floor to bounce up to you two, wrapping her arms around you both to make the hug a group affair. “You love this. Wouldn’t be rambling so much if you didn’t.”

You can’t see the juniper-haired girl roll her eyes, but you can feel it in the way her shoulders slump. You chuckle, rubbing both of the girls’ backs with the flat palms of your hands. “I’ll miss you both. I literally wouldn’t have made it last week without you so… thank you. I can’t think of the words to say other than that, and that I appreciate you both. I’m glad I met you.”

Nobara groans, her sounds muffled by the fabric of Maki’s sleeve. “Please, why are we acting like you’re moving to Timbuktu? You’re just going to the other side of downtown!” she laughs, lifting her face to look at you directly. “You’re not even moving! Just changing work locations.”

You giggle, leaning back with your arms still wrapped around the other girls’ waists. “You’re right. I won’t be far away, and I promise I won’t be a stranger. We can have our own little bar crawl night once I’m settled in with the new gig! How about that?”

“I’m down,” Nobara says, a smile beaming on her face.

“I’ll show up,” Maki smirks, pulling you back in for one final squeeze.

“You better,” you quip, looking behind Maki’s head to glance at the clock still fixed on your wall. “Oh, guys, you should get going. Traffic’s already bad but if you don’t go now then you’ll get stuck in peak rush hour traffic — aka, hell.”

The two women both turn their heads, looking up at the clock and prickling at the time.

“Shit, we probably should. Are you not coming with us?” Nobara asked, walking back over to where she’d left her purse on the carpeted floor. Maki sauntered over to her, not really doing anything, just hovering around in the beta’s space.

You shake your head no, scrunching your nose in protest. “Nah. You two go ahead. I want to get my desk packed and I have some paperwork to square away, then I’ll go.”

She pouts, jutting out her bottom lip and squinting her amber-colored eyes in contemplation.

“Don’t make that face,” you chuckle, corralling both women towards the door. “I’ve been staying here late for years. Security will still be here for a few more hours and I parked in the keycode garage so… I’ll be fine. Hurry up and go or it’ll take you an hour to get home.”

They both looked at you with dejected expressions on their faces. Maybe because this felt like a goodbye, even though you all knew it was more like a “see you later.” This was really it. The next time either of them saw you in a work setting again would be a conference, or maybe an office party you’d be invited to by proxy of Sukuna — if that continued — or maybe Nobara would invite you herself, or maybe Inumaki would extend the invitation via email with a cute little flyer he’d have made himself on Photoshop. Who knows.

It just felt a little strange to say goodbye, even with the little time you’d spent getting to know them both. But, sometimes friendship feels right like love at first sight. The two women were great humans, and it did hurt a bit to be abandoning the blossoming friendships. Physically, at least.

“Go, go,” you say, shooing them both towards the hallway, waving down at them as they finally pivot on their feet and move towards the elevators — mainly Maki, sort of pulling Nobara along with her hand on the beta’s lower back.

“Text when you’re home, please! And don’t drink too much of that tequila, it’s really strong! And it sneaks up on you!” Nobara yelled once they’d made it, leaving the office hallway in stark quiet once the elevator doors closed in her face.

You turn, sighing to yourself as you move back into your office, closing the door behind you as you make your way back to your desk, plopping back down into your large office chair. You dive into sorting through your things, turning on soft music over the speaker of your phone while you work on filling the last box. Admittedly, there was quite a bit of stuff in your drawers, but only so much of it served an actual purpose. You had typical office things of course: your pens, your stapler, highlighters, etc. But there were also plenty of knickknacks and other personal items you’d collected over the years: a fuzzy headband for nights where you’d stayed in the office late enough that you did your skincare routine, a few room temperature sodas, aforementioned skincare routine set, a metal scalp massager for when you got headaches, Tylenol for when you got headaches, socks for when your feet got cold, a heating pad, loose change, candy, and —

“Oh. I thought I took you home,” you mutter, digging around in the middle drawer of your desk until you unearth a little pink bullet vibrator. To be fair, the nights at the office were long, and the days could be stressful. The week leading up to your heat had you even more on edge than normal, understandably. Lingering thoughts about one tall, tattooed, rosey-haired alpha didn’t help the matter much either.

You smirk to yourself as thoughts stir in your brain featuring the man, heat rising beneath your collar as memories of the week that you’d spent together cross your mind. His scent — a heady mix of honey, pine, and peppercorn — still lingers in the back of your throat. His hands left imprints you can still feel on your hips. Your scent gland still throbs dully from the healed puncture marks carved delicately by his teeth, and your lips still feel numb from the weight of his kisses.

Your hand follows down the line of your jaw, mimicking the motions of his blunt nails tracing the smooth edges of your face. You lower your hand down the front of your shirt, cascading down the slope of your breasts over the peaked buds straining hard from the slightly air-conditioned chill of your office. You pinch them, groping your own chest with hands that are too small to imitate the alpha’s but feel good nonetheless. You lean back in the chair, forcing the top of the seat to recline. You take off your shoes, pulling up your knees and placing your feet flat near the edge of your seat while your hand moves further, trailing down your stomach before you find yourself stopping, lingering the touch above your womb. The absentminded thought of “what if” crosses your mind in a flash before you quickly shake it away, going down further to rest above your sex through the fabric of your bottoms.

Your office is secluded enough that, even if someone else had been present on your floor, no one would have been able to see you with your door closed, and you were always quiet enough that they definitely wouldn’t have been able to hear you if you made a little noise. In the two whole years you’d spent in your position, you’d never worried about anything more than the occasional janitor coming by, knocking lightly against the thick, heavy, wooden door before peeking in to ask if they could clean. An executive or two might have stayed late like you did but you were always aware, so your noises stayed hushed and your door remained closed. This would be your last opportunity to do this in the comfort of your own office. One more orgasm for the road couldn’t hurt.

You keep that in mind when your hand breaches the band of your underwear, sliding down into the wet slick leaking from your slit. The tip of your finger slides against the puffy lips, dipping down into the slippery warmth to rub circles around your swollen clit. You sink deeper into your seat, thinking desperately about the way Sukuna’s hands felt when he did this to you. Sitting you down in his lap, your back against his chest, rubbing lazy little circles against your clit while you watched TV on the couch during a moment of partial lucidity — lapping his tongue against all the nips and bites littering your skin to accelerate the healing simultaneously coaxing you into what must have been your seventh orgasm of that day to distract you from the contraction of your scar-devoid skin.

You lower your hand gripping the vibrator down to meet the other, replacing that hand with the soft vibrations from the toy. The sensation is inherently very different from your fingers, but the increase in pleasure is instantly palpable. The heat that’d built within your chest moved down to shroud your sex, tangling and pulsating within the swollen bud until you feel something akin to what lightning might taste like. Building and building until —

*knock knock knock*

The quick tapping of knuckles against your office door startles you, causing you to jolt upward as your heart rate skyrockets.

“Who is it,” you yell a touch too loud, stopping the vibrations from the toy.

“Housekeeping,” the person says, though you can tell from the coyness laced into the baritone voice that it’s definitely not housekeeping.

You remove your hand from your pants, tossing the toy into the box on your desk before wiping the wet digits on a company t-shirt you had stuffed in your desk drawer. “Come in.”

The alpha opens the door, sliding into the room dressed in casual clothes — very casual for him, actually. The alpha’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt, athletic pants, and sneakers which is a nice contrast to his normal (laid back) business attire, and a wonderful reminder of the sort of clothing he’d worn on the last day of your heat — when the temperature outside dropped thus increasing the need for warm clothes, and cuddles, which the agency preemptively provided.

He looks cute.

“I—” Sukuna starts, though the words get stuck in his throat as he inhales, sniffing the pheromones saturating the air. He looks down at you, his eyes trained on you with that look you’d spent the last week getting used to. “Were you just…”

“Yes,” you admit, too self-aware of the smell — the smell that you normally would have dispelled by turning on your air purifier… the thing that Nobara had so kindly packed for you first as you’d cleared out your things. And you — stupid, horny, post-heat you — didn’t think to crack a window or something.

Your natural scent was more prominent than it normally would have been, since you’d foregone wearing the intensely strong blockers you’d used before. You made the switch to a more neutral brand, like the kind most omegas in your country chose to use. Still, the scent of arousal was not mutually exclusive to your omega scent, so… it could stand out on its own even through blockers. Obviously.

“What were you thinking about that got you horny enough to touch yourself in the workplace, huh?” he asks, sauntering towards you, watching you like a lion stalking prey through the tall elephant grass of the savannah. He grabs the arms of your chair once he reaches you and leans down into your space, his nose mere inches from your own.

“How’d you know I was still here?” you ask, meeting his gaze. “Stalking me?”

He chuckles, running his tongue across his bottom row of teeth. “I asked you a question first bunny.”

“I asked you second Ryo. I got the last word, so you have to answer me first,” you tease, running your sock-covered foot up his torso, pushing up the fabric of his shirt.

The alpha tenses his jaw, turning his head slightly to the right like he might kiss you, but he doesn’t. “I came to get some papers from my office. Asked Aoi why he was still in the security station and he said he was waiting around since you were still up here… and because Yuki isn’t here to switch shifts with him yet.”

You smile, lifting yourself up enough to trap his bottom lip between your teeth, soothing it with a soft kiss. “She’s something else. Gotta love her.”

“Mhm,” he hums, deepening the kiss as he sinks down to balance on his heels. “Answer my question, kitten.”

You giggle, the sound coming out more breathless than you meant for it to. “Well, I was packing some things.”

“Go on,” Sukuna coaxes, lifting the fabric of your shirt to expose the soft flesh of your tummy, kissing and nipping the skin above the band of your bottoms voraciously. He grips the fabric there, sliding down the material —and your underwear, by proxy — until it's pooled on the floor and your legs are exposed to the chilled air of your office. He kisses your skin — all over your hips and lower belly as his eyes look up at you expectantly.

“I, uh, while I was sorting through everything — I found a little toy I’d brought to keep me company on late nights, and I started thinking about some things and I thought… well, no one’s here. Might as well have one last hurrah in my office while it’s still mine.”

His eyes pop open wide, the kissing ceases as the alpha stares at you in unabashed bewilderment. “I’m sorry,” he scoffs, standing up in an instant. He moves his legs to balance one knee on your seat, situated between your legs and forcing them open, while he brings up his free hand to grip your jaw firmly.

You smirk, the little laugh that escapes your lips followed quickly by a groan when his fingers dip down to wrap — less firmly — around your throat. A gentle threat, but not enough for you to lose your ability to speak.

“You mean to tell me… that all those long nights we were working together —just a floor apart — you were in here touching my pussy right under my nose?”

You chuckle, lightly scraping your nails along the span of his muscular forearm to wrap around his wrist. “I don’t remember saying it was yours, and it definitely wasn’t yours then,” you tease, lifting your hips to rut against his thigh placed perfectly between your legs. “I was playing with my pussy, in my office, thinking about how badly I wanted my boss to come down here and fuck me so hard I couldn’t remember my own name.”

Sukuna grins, placing his left palm flat on your lower belly to stop your movements. “Funny you mention that, bunny. See, I remember you screaming for me while I fucked you for five straight days, with two extra thrown in for good measure — even after the heat stopped. You let me, and all of your neighbors, know whose pussy this is — over, and over, and over again for 168 hours. Every time I filled this tight little cunt with my cum and stuffed you full with my knot — you came, and you cried, and you begged me to do it all over again. ‘Til you were so full of my cum that you couldn’t even keep your eyes open, and you couldn’t remember your name ‘til day six.”

He leans down into your space again, so close you can taste the peppermint on his breath from whatever brand of gum he must have chewed before coming into your office. “The heat must’ve made your memory a little hazy, baby” the alpha coos, placing a ghost of a kiss against your lips, “that’s okay. I think you just need a little refresher, huh kitten?”

You nod, twisting your hips side to side beneath the pressure from his hand, groaning when he tightens the pressure on your neck, enjoying the lightweight feeling that envelops your brain for a few moments, his gaze intense as he looks down at your face to gauge your reactions. He kisses your chin and your cheeks as his hand on your throat relaxes, moving it back to cradle your neck. His fingers spread, gliding along the surface of your scalp before he grabs a fistful of your hair there near your nape. He yanks back your head, pulling you into a searing kiss that steals all the breath from your lungs. Then, the alpha's tongue pushes into your mouth, the sound of your kisses loud in the empty room even over the sound of your music.

You revel in the taste of him on your lips, falling into the push and pull of his mouth on yours easily as though you’d never left the comfort of your queen bed. Sukuna groans as he takes in a deep breath, separating his lips from yours to suck the pulsating scent gland on your neck. “How long were you touching yourself before I walked in?” he murmurs, relaxing the hand gripping your hair to cradle your head in his large hand.

You moan, straining the tendon housed between the muscles and bone there to allow him utmost access to your throat. The submission crashes heavily on your senses, and the fervent swirling of “want” brewing beneath your skin comes bubbling up to the surface. “Too long,” you whine, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the pressing need for him grows, “please, alpha.”

The alpha's scent flares — that signature mix of woodiness and sweetness you craved so deeply flooding into your nose and dulling your senses. The music is silent, the ambient light from your last remaining lamp dims, and the only scent in the office belongs to the man above you.

“Alpha?” he mimics, moving the hand on your belly down, slipping his fingers into the dripping wet heat of your cunt. “What happened to Ryo angel? Losing yourself already and I haven’t even given you my cock yet.”

A moan spills from your lips — a loud desperate sound as he curls the digits, pushing against the spongy patch of nerves along the top of your walls. He's kissing you wherever he can reach: your jaw, your ears, your collarbones… anywhere. The alpha's mouth explores further down while his fingers work, eventually stopping when he’s situated above your breast. His teeth graze over your nipples still covered by the pesky layer of your clothing, biting the little nub before placing a soothing kiss there in vain. He reclaims the hand that’d held your head up, letting your upper body relax against the leather of the chair so he can remove your shirt — making quick work of untying the little decorative ribbon in the middle and unbuttoning the snaps, exposing you fully. “So pretty baby,” Sukuna coos, leaning down to suck the bud into his mouth, moving his thumb against your clit in maddening circles.

“Please,” you sigh, a sharp intake of breath quickly following when he adds slight pressure from his teeth. “Please, ‘was already close. Just… more. A little more.”

He hums against your breast, sending vibrations down into your chest, resonating in your heart. “Say it, and I’ll let you cum.”

“Say — oh — what?”

Sukuna looks up at you, his fiery red eyes alight with mischief. “Tell me who’s pussy this is, and I’ll let you cum.”

You scoff, looking down at him through squinted eyes as the spirit of mischief makes its way into you. “Keep dreaming,” you tease, tilting your head back to break eye contact, not allowing the incoming flood of endorphins tip-toeing around your brain to make you break. “You only heard me say that because you caught me in a heat. Now — fuck — I’m lucid, Ryo. You have to earn it.”

His muscles stiffen, the motions of his fingers against your clit coming to a halt. He pulls out the digits and unlatches his mouth from your breast, sucking your essence off of his fingers as he moves, sauntering over to the couch teaming with pillows you’d gotten to accent its forest green color.

The man grabs four pillows and a blanket from the small pile of (decorative) bedding, walking back towards your desk on the side opposite of where you’re sitting, touching yourself again to replace the alpha’s larger, more flexible, fingers.

“Whatcha doin’?” you ask, your voice still heavy with arousal as you watch the alpha move around the room.

He drops two of the pillows onto the surface of your desk, sliding one of them close to the edge of the table, while the thick blanket is spread onto the floor in front of your couch, and the other pillows are scattered around the area. He ignores you — the only indication he’s even listening to you, and what your hands are doing, is the sharp spike in that honey undertone in his scent that alludes to his growing arousal. That and the outline of his cock jumping a bit under the loose fabric of his Nike running pants.

The alpha walks over to you again, his eyes trained on you like a lion once more as he stops in front of you. He leans down, smacking your hands away from your sex as he slides his arm around the center of your back, hoisting you up and out of your chair with that arm while the other comes up to support you by holding your ass. He gives it a squeeze, followed instantly by a loud smack.

“I’m earning it.” The man carries you to the other side of the desk with ease, laying you back on the wooden surface with one pillow beneath your head, and the other slid underneath your tailbone.

He kneels, his face level with your cunt nosing the soft patch of hair above your sex before moving his mouth further down, kissing the puffy lips of your cunt before he dips in his tongue, sucking and licking the swollen bud with a fervor you assumed was isolated in those last few hours he’d been in his rut. Part of your brain thanks the gods you were wrong.

“More, Ryo,” you cry, the sensations shooting up your spine like little shocks, tingling along the nerves branching off from the bones. Your orgasm comes up to the surface again so quickly, right on the edge of your tongue when the alpha pulls away, landing a firm swat against your pussy when you whine. “What the fuck!” you groan, your mouth falling slack in confusion.

He chuckles, moving his head to kiss your inner thighs. “Be patient. I’m proving a point.”

“You’re such a dick,” you snicker, lacing your hand through his hair to tug harshly on the pink locks, drawing his attention back up to your eyes. “Make me cum, and maybe I’ll let you fuck me.”

Sukuna didn’t respond to that verbally, but the glint in his eye made your flushed skin shiver.

Your head knocks back down towards the desk when he places his tongue back onto your clit — flicking the tip just how you like until that same burning heat is back, licking at the core of your stomach from within. He inserts his fingers, adding more stimulation that turns the flame into a fever pitch of pleasure that nearly drives you over the edge. But, it doesn’t, because he pulls away again. “Sukuna,” you whine, aching for release.

Your skin burns — the surface warm and wet with sweat while crackles of electricity run haywire underneath. You feel him laughing against your skin where he’s kissing you, notably not where you need him to be, and you feel something within you snap.

“Fine,” you challenge, sitting up enough to stretch your arm upwards, feeling around inside the moving box not far from your head. You find what you’re looking for instantly since it was right on top where you’d left it. “It’s the 21st-century love, I can do it myself.”

You click the vibrator’s “on” button making the skinny, finger-length, textured bullet hum to life. The alpha's eyes grow wide as you trail the device down your stomach, getting it all the way down to the top of your slit before the alpha catches your wrist, a low growl rumbling from the depth of his chest.

“Oh, it’s like that?” he says, raising his eyebrow.

“Yeah, it’s like that,” you say, breathless and impossibly turned on.

His eyes grow darker — the characteristic persian red looking more like the finest Chateau Margaux red wine. The vibrator is swiftly plucked from your hand, though the man doesn’t turn it off or put it away like you thought he might. No, instead, he runs the toy down the valley of your folds, not stopping his descent until the toy is pressed against the slick-slippery hole below your cunt. “Say yes or no,” he coaxes, his voice frighteningly deadpan.

“Jesus,” you jump, your hips bucking against his forearm that’s placed against your lower belly as the vibrations flow through you. “I — I haven’t done it t-that way since —”

“I know baby,” he coos, not pushing the toy any further but not pulling it back at all either. “That was in the heat of, well… your heat. Say no and I’ll stop.” The vibrations from the soft touch echo into your pussy, just barely kissing the tips of the nerves that go up to the button that craves the alpha's touch.

You nod, a firm, “yes,” escaping your lips before your mind has time to process it. A smirk crosses his face then as he moves, running soothing circles with his fingers on your hips as the the toy pushes forward — breaching the puckered hole easily before stopping at the slightly flared base.

“Good girl,” Sukuna coos, untying the little band of fabric keeping his pants snug on his waist as he lowers his face again, this time not teasing at all with the precision of his tongue on your clit. He slips his fingers back into your walls, massaging the inside in tandem with the vibration pattern of the toy in your ass. The toy’s placement inside you — only separated from your cunt by a thin layer of muscle — sparks gleam behind the lids of your eyes.

Your mind goes blank — only Sukuna and the tangled mess of your scents bleeding into the symphony of pure bliss resounding in your brain. “Ryo,” you cry, gripping the back of his hair with your hand, keeping him fixed in place with his tongue flicking with fervor against your clit. He hums, sucking the bud into his mouth while his tongue keeps the same motion. He adds suction, physically coaxing the pleasure from your core. “God. I — I… please don’t, again,” you cry, your words a jumbled mess as the heat turns to open flame beneath the tight knot settled in your belly, growing larger and taller until it’s burning the rope, puffing up angrily as the band melts away, singed and weak as the coil snaps and a wave of relief pours over you like summer rain — warm and wet with remnants of the fire.

You cross your feet at the ankles, keeping them firm around the man's back as your orgasm washes over your body, radiating from the crown of your head down to your toes. The vibration of the toy is still going, and his fingers are still plunging inside of you, even as the waves settle down and the lightness in your head starts to feel grounded again.

“Too much,” you whisper, your eyes rolling towards the back of your head when Sukuna puts his mouth back on you, sucking — albeit more gently — at the throbbing, overstimulated, bud.

The alpha hums, using his thumb to turn off the vibrator as he stills his hand, though his mouth stays in place for a few more seconds, sucking your clit slowly to keep it engorged and sensitive before he moves, taking off his shirt to expose his toned abs. “Keeping your promise?” he asks, licking your essence from his lips.

You smile, grabbing your knees to spread your legs apart, exposing yourself fully for the alpha. “Take me however you want me. You earned that,” you say, a coy smile on your lips as he scoffs, understanding the implication in your words.

“Okay,” he says, jutting out his chin a bit as he nods his head, standing up straight and grabbing your shins, “we’ll see how long that little attitude lasts.” You look down, pleased to see his cock out and standing at attention as he grabs it, fisting the length and giving it a few tugs before pushing himself up against your entrance. He removes the toy and tosses it back to land on the blanket — then, he’s in you, filling you up and forcing the air out of your lungs.

“Fuck, Sukuna. So — god, you’re big,” you groan, your pussy squeezing around him as you adjust to the length. It had only been a few days since the last time you’d had the older man inside of you. You weren’t as tightly wound as your body could be, but he was an alpha — a very well-endowed alpha. The only reason he hadn’t been so hard to take during your heat, your first time, was because — well, your body was ready for it on a biological level. Your omega body was made to fit and accommodate whatever size your alpha presented with. Still, he was blessed in the width department more than the length (though that was perfect as well) so it took a moment to relax enough for him, even as turned on as you were and no matter how many times you’d done this before during your week together.

Calloused hands rub up and down the back of your thighs soothingly, kissing your legs in the spots he could reach while you panted, placing your hand on his lower abdomen to prevent him from moving (even though he wasn’t making any move to do so yet). “If you can’t take it this way we can move, bunny. Don’t force it.”

You look up into his eyes, still deep and dark but with a soft edge to them that looks so childish on his otherwise sharp features. You try to relax more, shimming your hips this way and that to see if any slight movements can make the position more manageable, but it doesn’t. “Fuck,” you huff, wiping your hands down your face, “I think I need to move.”

Sukuna chuckles, sliding his hands under your back to scoop you up into his strong arms, the tip of his length still inside of you as he carries you over to the blanket in front of your couch. “On top or from the back?” he asks, gently wiping his hand through the sweat-damp hair sticking to your face.

“Back,” you grin, kissing him as the alpha lowers your bodies down to the floor. He sits you down, pulling you into a searing kiss as he lowers himself down to his knees. One of the pillows he’d taken earlier is handed to you as you scoot backward towards the couch — not stopping until your back hits the upholstery. Your hands find the sides of his face, holding him close to keep him kissing you as you turn around to bend over the cushioned edge of the furniture. He adjusts with your body, turning his head to the side to keep your lips connected as he slides up behind you, wrapping one arm around your waist while the other rests on the couch in front of you — level with your breasts. He pinches your erect nipples as you wiggle the pillow beneath your knees, giving you more leverage against the alpha’s tall height, and keeping the poor bones there from getting sore too quickly.

“I want you,” you purr, slowly fucking yourself back on the tip of his cock as the stretch transitions to pleasure, and the slight sting from his length holding you open blossoms into warmth. “Please Ryo.”

Sukuna pouts, sliding his cock into you slowly until his hips are flush against your ass. “Ryo… Ryo… Ryo,” he tsks, tilting your chin up so he can look at your eyes, “am I making you feel good bunny?” he asks, his voice sounding too firm for the words to be a question. "Good enough for you to be a good little omega and submit for me?"

You nod your head yes — the weight from the edging and the burn left wilting on your skin in the race towards another release making your resolve wain. All thoughts of stubbornness level your brain as you crane your neck more, coaxing the alpha — your alpha — back in with a kiss. He moves his hand away from your breast to grip your jaw — sliding his hand down to your throat again which stops your movements. Red eyes bore into yours, asking for your permission and accepting your consent when you nod, grabbing the alpha's wrist gently as he increases the firmness of his hold on your neck. He kisses you then, letting pressure go then applying it again on your throat as he starts to move against you, fucking into you torturously slowly as the blood flow is tampered with in your brain.

“More,” you moan, using a lull in pressure to sigh out the word, pushing your own hips back to fuck yourself harder on his cock. “I can take more, alpha.”

He groans into your ear, readjusting your bodies just enough for his leverage to change, and he lets go. His hips snap against your ass, fucking his cock into you so deep and hard that tears form on your waterline from the sudden increase in stimulation. His length rubs every inch of your insides — the alpha towering over you fucking into you with a precision that shouldn’t be possible with so much girth inside your slick walls. The angle of his hips is perfectly fixed towards the sensitive spot within you and the lack of oxygen just adds to the stimulation. You nearly pass out when he moves his hand down between your body and the couch, placing his digits there to toy with your clit.

“So fucking wet and tight baby,” Sukuna moans, a low groan that sounds more like a growl in his throat coming out as he uses his knee to push yours out, opening you up a little more for him, “Fuck, your pussy’s so perfect. Tight and hot and so—so fucking wet angel. Just for me.” His hand relaxes enough to give you air again, and the blood rushing back to your head triggers the same sensation in your cunt.

“A—Alpha,” you sputter, your eyes shut tight as you freefall into the pool of pleasure Sukuna has built for you. The edging made your clit so sensitive; more sensitive and responsive than you’d ever felt before your heat — before you’d first let Sukuna have his way with your body, and you, his. “Feels so good. God, you fuck me so good. No one else w—will ever have me like this. Just you, alpha. Ryo.”

A low sound — unmistakably a growl — rumbles in his chest and the speed of his hips increases. The alpha fucks you like he wants to imprint himself into your cunt forever, to mold you around him so no other man would ever have a chance of feeling you the way he does. He lowers his head to the scent gland nestled at the base of your neck — a harmless little spot that meant nothing in regards to mating but served as a landmine for scenting — and he bites, drinking down the strong scent of peaches and white wine that radiates from it.

“Oh!” you cry, the orgasm sneaking up on you with a punch that knocks the air from your lungs again, even more than Sukuna’s hand had been capable of around your throat, and the tears fall — hot and wet as the two trails travel down your cheeks. “It’s yours! Fuck, it’s yours. I’m yours.”

Sukuna groans against your neck as your walls cinch tight around his cock, milking it for all he’s worth as his orgasm washes over him as well. You feel his cock twitch harshly inside of you, fucking you full of his cum that mingles with the flood of slick dripping from your cunt. “Fuck, bunny,” he moans, rubbing his hand along your jawline as his kisses pepper your skin. “You’re amazing. So smart, and kind, and beautiful. Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He kisses your hair, wrapping his body around you — essentially hugging you from behind — as his high descends down towards the baseline again, and you get pulled down to the blanket with him — both of you cuddled up on your sides.

You let him stay inside of you as you lay together, catching your breath and kissing as his cock weakly spurts the last of his seed in you. Eventually, you find yourself glancing at the clock on the wall, lazily tracing little figure-eights on Sukuna’s arm as you count the arms to read the time. “Hey,” you whisper, looking over your shoulder at Sukuna. The alpha’s eyes are shut, though you can tell he’s still awake. His cock is half-hard inside of you, twitching as if the length could be enticed into another round.

“Yes?” he says, smirking as he curls up closer to you, kissing you deeply.

You find yourself smiling against his lips as he pushes your hair out of your face, dotting your cheeks and your nose and your eyes with little pecks as well. “Sukuna, we gotta go.”

His eyebrows furrow, looking down at you like you’d grown a second set of eyes. “Rushing out on me already baby?" he teases, pouting his lip dramatically like you'd truly hurt the alpha's feelings. "Damn. Here I was thinking we’d go have a nice dinner, maybe even get a dessert, but you’re already doing the morning after dash... while we’re still on the night of! You wound me,” he says, putting his hand over his heart as if it will alleviate the pain, scrunching his face like you’d kicked a puppy in his presence.

You roll your eyes, kissing him again through your little laughs. “No, dumbass. It’s already after 9:00. Yuki, or Todo — depending on how their shift switch went — will be doing rounds in a bit. I’d rather not have them see my tits or their boss’s dick. I think they’d have a hard time respecting either of us after that.”

He chuckles, removing himself from your body to sit up on the blanket, extending his hand to pull you up with him. “Oh, that. You’re right, maybe we should head out of here. What about your stuff?” he asks, motioning towards your desk.

You giggle, getting up with a wobble in your step as you approach the desk, removing each drawer and dumping the remaining contents into the moving box you’d left on the already cleared surface, putting a haphazard layer of tape over the top. “There, done,” you grin, sliding your discarded clothing back on as you move around the room. “All my other stuff is in the conference room for the movers to grab in the morning and I’m sure they have their own stuff to move the couch. I’m all set.”

The alpha nods, siding on his own clothes and grabbing one more box — the last, actually — from the floor by the door, using it to quickly pack all of your couch accessories for you as you hop on top of your desk.

He approaches you, slotting himself between your dangling legs, kissing you once more — softer, slower — before Sukuna pulls away, grabbing your hands in his own and bringing them up to his chest. “One chapter closed. On to the next one, huh?” he says, glancing sideways to motion at the room.

You know he means more than just the room — it’s the job. It’s your entire life under him in your career coming to an end, but you’re on to bigger and better, hopefully equally as fulfilling, things. With new friendships, and a new role for Ryomen in your life all leading you into the next portion of your adulthood.

“You know something I’d love to write into this next chapter for myself?” you say, wrapping your arms around the alpha’s shoulder, scenting him as you rest your chin against his chest.

He looks down at you with those soft persian colored eyes, wrapping his arms around you to keep you close. “What’s that?”

“I’d love to go to dinner, if you were being serious. Just us two — getting to know each other better, “learning each other” as you put it, sounds like fun. I —”

“Think this could be something good?” he says, flashing his pretty white teeth at you as you smile, nodding your head in agreement before pulling him down to kiss him again, this time with more heat.

You feel his cock harden to fullness against your inner thigh, and a small moan escapes your lips as you lower your hand to palm the length. The noise of the elevator dinging draws you both out of your little bubble, making both of you turn towards the door, then each other with a look of humored panic on your faces.

“How about we decide on that restaurant in the car?” he suggests, loosening his grip on your hips.

You hum, grabbing his waistband and pulling his crotch against yours before the alpha can move away from you. “Maybe we stop by your place first and finish this, then we go to dinner?” you tease, your voice and scent dripping with arousal again at the sight of his cock.

The elevator dings again, this time emitting a longer chime that means it’s stopped on your floor. He grins, kissing you deeply before lifting you off of the desk, grabbing the moving boxes for you, and sliding them into the conference room housing your other things just outside the door.

“Ready when you are bunny,” he says, grabbing your hand as you walk out of the office together, your gift box and your bag the only things you’re carrying.

You linger in the doorway for a moment, looking over the interior before you turn to Sukuna, a sad smile on your lips. You sigh, sitting down your bag and dropping his hand to open the gift box, taking out the tequila bottle and accompanying shot glasses to pour a shot for both of you.

Sukuna takes a glass from you, helping you balance the large alcohol bottle by holding up the bottom end as you top off the drinks.

“Okay,” you sigh, thinking over your words for a moment before deciding. “To new beginnings, and the start of something great,” you grin, tapping your glass against the alpha’s when he agrees, knocking back the smooth shot of liquor with ease.

“To new beginnings, and earning your love.”

thank you for reading! if you'd also like a piece commissioned, head over to my ko-fi to check out my deals & commission terms ₍₍ ◝(●˙꒳˙●)◜ ₎₎ crossposted on ao3: here || taglist request || network tags: @anime-central @cursedarchiveblog @hanayanetwork

[kemakoshume]

edge ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ~ bokuto x chubby reader

𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴 – 𝔪𝔡𝔫𝔦 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ vagina owners, you know how sometimes at certain parts of the month you’re like… ~extra~ sensitive in the downstairs region? like any little prolonged touch or movement will have you shaking in the sheets? yeah, this is about that window of hypersensitivity, with your boyfriend bokuto.

a/n; oh btw if i’m writing bokuto… always assume it’s a chubby reader even if i don’t add descriptors in my drabbles :’D that man likes his women THICC.

uh, only warnings are: daddy is said a couple times and i will not apologize for it. healthy dynamics (lots of praising and check-ins), mild squirting, oral (fem receiving). reader doesn’t normally cum from oral (or dj-ing the bean) and they talk about it a little! normalize having issues cumming from solely manual stimulation! (৹˃̵﹏˂̵৹)°·๐ humor is there if you squint. okay that’s it! enjoy :)))

[the song i wrote this to if you care: here. i tend to loop one song and then tune it out after the second cycle lol].

"Uh, babe, are you okay?"

"Hm?" you said, opening your eyes to look at the large muscular man currently laid above you, and inside of you, on your black silk sheets.

"I just barely put it in and you're sighing and "ah"-ing like I'm destroying your shit right now. You okay? Am I hurting you?" he said, his voice raising a tiny bit in that concerned way you found cute.

You giggled, amused as hell at the little crease that'd formed in the center of his forehead.

"Kuto, I'm fine," you declared, punctuating it with a kiss on his nose that he eagerly leaned down to accept, "I'm just a little more..."

He looked down at you, searching your face with his eyes. He pulled almost entirely out of you, then slid back in slowly. His hips were angled and precise, slow but definitely moving with purpose.

"I, um," you stuttered, a huff of breath involuntarily leaving your lungs at the thrust, "Do you want me to... ah!"

He'd thrust into you again, testing the waters.

"Oh, I think I get it," he said, lowering his body so he could kiss you easily while he fucked you torturously slowly, "You're just fine baby girl. Looks like you're just extra sensitive today, right?"

"Mhm," you moaned, your eyes relaxed closed as the pleasure began to radiate through your body.

You were at a point in your cycle that made you sensitive all over. Any part of the surface of your skin, external or not, was responsive in a way you just weren't on a normal basis. Things still felt good outside this tiny window of time of course, but your body just wasn't wired to be this ready all the time.

"Are we feeling good sensitive or painful sensitive? I don't wanna hurt you," he said, slowing his pace to a near stop. The affection in his voice was almost too sweet for what you two were doing.

You cracked open your eyes, bringing up your hand to run it through the hair at the nape of his neck. You pulled him down into a kiss, so deep and passionate that you felt a moan humming in the back of his throat.

"Good sensitive," you said once you'd pulled away, warmth rising to the surface of your skin even with his lackadaisical efforts. You moved your own hips, all but verbally begging for him to move again, "Way more sensitive than normal."

"Okay baby girl, fuck," he groaned, letting you lazily fuck yourself on his cock, "You want it that bad? Grinding on me just to get me to fuck you?"

You nodded, a smile spread across your cheeks before you bit your bottom lip.

"Please," you whined, "I want to feel every single inch. Fuck me like you mean it."

"Like I mean it?" Bokuto challenged, positioning you at a different angle, your legs now relaxed almost at his shoulders with some support from his biceps against your thighs, "My baby wants to be fucked good and deep tonight, huh?"

"Please daddy? I can take it, I promise," you begged, already trembling from the drag of his cock out of you to adjust your bodies.

"God, you're too pretty to have such a filthy fucking mouth," he groaned, finally snapping his hips to meet yours. He switched up his tempos: going from fast and hard to deep and hard in alternating movements.

Your eyes almost instantly rolled into the back of your head. Luckily your neighbors were around your age and also little horny freaky fucks or you would have gotten complaints about the noise.

"You're so fucking wet for me baby. Who got you wet like that? Hm?" Bokuto said, pulling your body down the length of your bed a bit to angle himself higher above you, almost diving straight into you from above.

"Fuck, daddy, you did," you groaned, trying and failing to keep your eyes open, "You make me so fucking wet. I want, need, uh! Please."

He'd hit a spot inside of you that you didn't know existed.

"Wait, wait," you hesitated, not knowing what to make of the new sensation, "Have to pee, I think."

Bokuto eyed you from above, a look of contemplation on his face.

"Do you only feel it when I do, this?" he asked, angling his hips down a bit and directly hitting that spot at a quick pace.

"Uh-huh! Yes, yes," you yelled, letting the flood of warmth overtake your body as a rush of liquid came from your cunt.

Your chest was rising and falling slowly from the exertion while the two of you looked down at the now-soaked bottom half of Bokuto's abs.

"Fuck, I... I squirted," you chuckled, "I'm sorry."

Bokuto looked at you like you'd kicked a puppy in his presence.

"No, no, no, no," he said, showering your face in kisses while he fucked into you at a slower pace, "Don't apologize for that, ever. I want you to feel good, I love it when I'm able to make you feel good."

"You make me feel so good," you moaned, the mounting pleasure building again when he fucked into you faster.

"Fuck, that was so sexy baby," he moaned, sounding on edge much faster than normal, "God I can't believe you did that."

You felt his dick twitch hard inside of you once at the same moment he felt it. He held the base of his cock firmly with his index finger and thumb, pulling out of you.

"Can I make you feel even better baby girl?" he said, coming up the length of your body to kiss you, kissing his way lower down until he was hovering over your pussy.

"Yes please," you chuckled, knowing he was doing this as much for your pleasure as he was to keep himself from cumming too fast before you had, "Sorry if it takes a while, yunno. I think I got used to toys or something."

"Babe," he shushed you, "I just want to taste you right now. If you cum, I'm gonna be over the moon about it, but if you can't, we have toys for a reason. No shame honey, I just want you to feel good."

He punctuated his words with a kiss to your inner thigh. You relaxed into the sheets, letting your mind be free from any thoughts besides how good this was going to feel.

He took his time feeling and touching and experimenting a bit with what you seemed to respond to the most, eventually adding fingers into the mix to massage that little button inside of you. The soft music going on your playlist filled the space alongside the sounds of him lapping up your juices.

"Maybe if I," he said out loud, more to himself than to you, and sucked your clit into his mouth.

He sucked and licked at the little bundle of nerves, fluttering his tongue over it once it popped out from the warm wet heat of his mouth.

"Oh, holy fuck," you moaned, your voice a bit hoarse already from all the yelling so far you'd done that night. You tossed your head back into your pillows, the heat dancing beneath your skin erupting as your pleasure built, "Keep doing that, please. More, right there, right there. Kuto, yes, yes, yes!"

Tears flowed from your eyes once you allowed them to open, wetting your lashes and the apples of your cheeks as they cascaded down to your pillow. The glow from your orgasm was almost overwhelming.

"You did so good baby girl," Bokuto praised, climbing the length of your bed to lay next to you, giving you kisses.

"I did?" you moaned, mildly delirious as you came down a bit from your high.

"Oh yeah," he confirmed, kissing you beneath your ears, trailing his kisses to your chest.

He grabbed one of your breasts, taking one of your taunt nipples into his mouth to suck. Your nipples were the one part of your body that was always notoriously sensitive, even when the rest of your body wasn't.

"Mhm, Bokuto, please."

"Please what baby? Gotta use your words," he said, flicking your nipple with his tongue.

"Fuck me. I miss your cock so much already, feel empty," you said, the endorphins dancing around in your brain.

He pulled your nipple into his mouth to suck on it once more, harder, before positioning your bodies again.

"I think I can help with that kitten," he said, laying you on your sides so you were spooning, him being the big spoon.

He angled himself to your entrance, pumping himself to full hardness again in an instant against your wetness.

"We can touch your pretty little pussy all we want in this position you know," Bokuto said, entering you with his entire length in one go, fucking into you again with an intensity that had your bed snapping against the (padded) wall.

"Touch yourself for me baby. Think you could cum on my cock while I fuck you? I wanna feel you cum with me inside," he said mindlessly, his thrusts making it hard for you to speak back.

"Can try, I, uh! I want to," you moaned, wanting so badly to cum for him the way he wanted, the way you both wanted.

His pace slowed just a bit, enough for him to reach behind him with his long arms to tap open your bedside table. He removed a toy, a little flat clitoral vibrator that he'd affectionately named, "Steve."

"Here baby, use our partner in crime," he said tossing you the toy before going back to his deep, fast, pace. He placed kisses up the back of your neck and behind your ear, "You're such a good girl honey I know you can cum for me again."

He had one hand gripping your tit, toying with your nipple while he fucked you. The pleasure was immense already, but turning on your little helper and lowering it to your clit had both of you groaning.

"Shit," he moaned, "Forgot how good that is. You're so fucking wet for me baby I can feel the vibrations too."

You nodded, not even knowing if that made sense. All you could focus on was the feeling of his cock fucking into your cunt and the little toy buzzing against your clit. You reached one hand behind you, feeling around gently until you felt Bokuto's balls tap against your hand. You gave them a gentle squeeze, knowing that it would bring you two to climax at the same exact...

"Fuck," he groaned, deep and long as your moans echoed against your apartment's walls.

You felt your slick walls milking his cock for all he had, as he weakly thrust into you a few more times before eventually pulling out. You turned off the toy, placing it on the dresser on your side to be cleaned later.

"Oh my god," he moaned, pulling you against his chest as he kissed up the line of your shoulder, "That was amazing."

"It was amazing," you sighed, melting into the warmth of his body for a while, letting the endorphins subside a bit, "Hey, you know what won't be amazing?"

"Hm?" he hummed, the forehead crease visible in your mind's eye even though you weren't looking at him to see it.

"How sticky your chest and my inner thighs are gonna be if we don't go take a shower."

He groaned playfully, moving swiftly to force himself to get up before he talked himself out of it.

"Come on then little lady, we have some post-coital relaxation time to get done then," he said in a faux country accent, moseying his way over to the side of the bed you were closer to and picking you up bridal style.

"Sounds like a plan to me, oh lover of mine," you joked back, kissing him until he finally had to put you down to get you ready for your joint shower.

The rest of the night was filled with kisses, snuggles, and snores (Bokuto's, not yours). You couldn't wait for more.

tysm for reading! i crossposted this on ao3 if you guys ever wanna read it there or bookmark it just in case :D xox

[kemakoshume]

Beneath the Wisteria Blooms ✾ — tengen x black!f!reader x rengoku (pt. 4)

warnings; hehehe here's the smut; MMF threesome, foreplay, pussy eating, multiple positions, rimming (w fingers), anal play, soft/slow sex, talking during sex, laughing during sex, finger sucking, f!pronouns and pet names.

a/n; hello loves! it's been a while :') sorry for the wait. i hope 9.6k and all the new warnings make up for it.

just a heads-up: i don't pull punches when it comes to MMF threesomes. i write my characters to all enjoy the process and have a good time experimenting. i also think it's a little lame when threesome content acts like the men are allergic to each other, so this has spicy tengen x kyojie interactions in it as well. i highly recommend checking out the [pinterest board] for this if you, like me, need visuals sometimes. enjoy! ꨄ︎

~ [ch one; ch two, ch three, ch four, ch five] ~ also crossposted on ao3 in case you prefer reading long(er) fics over there.

The night continued at a fork in the road. Down the dimly lit pathway of your forest-filled backyard, you found yourself at the crossing that diverged into three routes. One led back up to the home, one led down to the lake, and another led off to the large guest home meant for your slayer corps members, not far from the hot spring.

“Are you sure you don’t require assistance, maiden?” Tengen asked, a pleasant smirk on his face as he watched you balance Ayra against your own body, holding up the half-conscious—disastrously inebriated—girl to keep her from falling. The alcohol affected her harder as it marinated in the depths of her stomach, resulting in both you and the hashira deciding to go your separate ways to get settled.

You huffed out a laugh, hoisting the girl up and grabbing hold of her wrist to secure her arm around your shoulders. “No, I’m sure I’ll survive. I’ve handled much heavier drunks in my day,” you said, standing straight to steady Ayra’s taller frame. “You two go bathe. I’ll get our lovely boozer here settled, and then I’ll come ‘round. Should you still require my assistance?”

Your voice tapered off into a whisper that felt foreign in your throat. The subtly probing words held the faintest hint of insecurity despite all of your coy smiles and rejections of Ayra’s meddlesome assumptions throughout the night. The stirring of butterflies buried in your belly were undoubtedly… nerves. Despite all of the flirtations and glances exchanged, your words bled your desire for confirmation. You needed to feel that these two exceptional men—the strongest in your land—desired your company. You needed to feel the weight of their lust for you in the palm of your hand.

“Maiden.” Kyojuro stepped forward into your space, cupping his hand to caress your cheek with an air of quiet confidence that juxtaposed his natural—zestful—cadence. “May I kiss you?”

Your eyes flicked back and forth between warm orbs of molten color, smitten by the attentiveness present within them as he looked at you. You nodded on impulse as you fell under the guidance of his touch. His fingers teased your jawline as he lifted your chin, holding you steadily in a mutual gaze that felt far too longing for strangers.

“You may do more than just kiss me tonight if you wish.”

He grinned, wasting no time to meet you there in the middle—a hum snuggled deep in his throat as his lips pressed against yours. You could taste the bitter sweetness of saké on his tongue and smell the faintest warmth wafting off his skin. The crickets silenced as you fell into the kiss, open-mouthed as his lips parted to deepen it.

“Wheet-woo.” Ayra whistled, causing you to flinch away from Kyojuro—though you didn’t get very far with Tengen’s immovable frame suddenly pressed against your back.

“Looks like someone’s awake,” Tengen said, looking down at you both. “I came to catch her in case our head maiden was too distracted and let her fall.”

You scoffed, meekly smacking the hashira’s firm chest with your hand. “I would never. She’s in safe hands.”

“Safe hands I am in, indeed,” Ayra said, her head lolling backward to thud against the sound hashira’s chest. A smile plastered on her drunk face as she looked around at the three of you. “I let myself go to the darkness for two minutes, and this is what you do without me? My heart aches, sister. I bet this one is especially wicked with his tongue,” she said, winking at Tengen.

You rolled your eyes with a smile, ignoring the vibrations of Tengen’s chuckling against your back. You cleared your throat, pulling Kyojuro in for a soft peck before moving to add some distance between you again. You placed your hand against Tengen’s stomach and pushed, just enough for the hashira to get the hint. He moved, placing a kiss on the crown of your head as he went.

The fog of desire muddling your brain dissipated with the added space, though the stimuli ceased to go away as Ayra nuzzled her nose into the curls at the crown of your head. You batted her away when her snuggles turned into kisses.

“You’re drunk, Ayra. No men for you tonight. No me, either!” You giggled, supporting her with your weight again as the hashira moved to stand a respectable distance away from you, looking on with soft eyes and fondness laced into their grins as they watched you.

“Boo,” she pouted, sucking her teeth when she realized resistance was futile. “If you can walk tomorrow, I’ll be sorely disappointed.

You chuckled, supporting the weight of Ayra’s skull with your hand as you bowed toward the two men. “Well then. I think that’s my queue to take our fair maiden to bed. Enjoy the baths. I’ll be ‘round to bandage you up in a half hour.”

They bowed their heads deeply in return, showing respect equitable to your own.

“We look forward to your visit, maiden.”

“As do I, hashira.”

୨୧┈┈୨୧

“Why on Inari Ōkami’s green Earth would you let her drink this much?”

“Well, to be fair, Mistress, the alcohol was her idea. I was merely a bystander in this situa—”

“Spare me.”

Your Mistress paced the width of the tatami room, combing her fingers through the cascading length of ink-black hair running down her back. Finally, Arya laid in bed, tucked snugly into the airy cotton sheets by the woman whose eyes masqueraded as daggers.

“Just... gods.” Your mistress huffed, stomping one of her feet petulantly like Sura did when she didn’t get her way in some manner. “Please tell me she kept her composure in front of the hashira, at least. Miko, my heart can’t take this. Gaining their favor means everything for wisteria homes in the corps hierarchy. Their word could make or break us.”

You sighed at the nickname, knowing your Mistress only referred to you that way as a reminder of your duty and status in the home, even when the term wasn’t wholly accurate to you as a person anymore—namely, the part about being a virgin.

“Mistress.” You groaned the word, crossing the room to hold the woman by her shoulders. “The hashira were smitten by her, just as everyone else always is. She held onto her dignity well, and I swear our home’s reputation has exceeded their expectations. I will visit them in a bit to bandage some wounds and ensure they’re settled well. You have nothing to worry about, Mistress.”

Your Mistress stared at you with unimpressed eyes as the seconds ticked by, though she relented eventually. Her shoulders went slack when she sighed, squeezing your hands gently as she removed them from her shoulders. “Fine. Do your duties well. It only takes one slip-up to piss off men of their status. For all their good attributes—men are still men. They are never easily pleased.”

You nodded, trailing your Mistress as she sat down on the thick mat on the floor next to Ayra’s sleeping form.

“I can see the shake in your hands, Mother. Perhaps laying with your children will soothe your spirits.”

Your Mistress smiled, twirling the ends of Ayra’s long hair between her trembling fingers. “I may. I know you can handle the remaining duties just fine on your own, despite my nags.”

You hummed, peeking out the window behind you to trace the moon’s position in the sky. It had been at least twenty minutes or so since you and the men had gone your separate ways, and with every second that ticked by, eager anxiety grew more within the marrow of your bones.

“Where are the children?” you said absentmindedly, fighting to keep the intentions behind your words from slipping. It always put your mind at ease to know that the house girls were all snug in their beds, out of earshot, when you went off to tend to soldiers of your choosing.

Typically, you would check their wing of the home yourself to ensure they were well tucked in and sleeping, but the time to be present for the hashira neared, and you feared you wouldn’t quite have the time.

You’d long passed the inconvenience of shame regarding your exploits. However, even with confidence laced into your choices, there was still a part of you that strongly valued the opinions of your girls, as well as their purity and the option of choice when it came to learning such adult things.

In your heart, the young girls who inhabited your home were just as much your children as your Mistress’s. All ages—infant or teen—they were yours. You had a duty to honor their youth, and the sanctity of their innocence, for as long as life’s circumstances allowed. They would all be educated on the topic when the time came, and it was coming up dangerously soon for a few of them; however, they did not need to see (or hear) you engaging in such practices to be educated on the topic.

No. Absolutely not.

Your Mistress peeked up at you through her long onyx lashes with the faintest smile on her face. “The babies are asleep in the western wing on the second level. The older girls are gossiping amongst themselves in the second-level common room, though I did hear yawns, so I’m sure they’ll turn in soon enough. Why?” Your Mistress huffed, looking up again at you with maintained eye contact. “You’ve never asked me of their whereabouts when you’ve galavanted off to entertain our guests before. What’s changed?”

All at once, it felt as if the world had tilted too far and fallen off of its axis.

It was one thing to know, unspokenly, that your Mistress was at least somewhat aware of what you’d done, but it was another thing entirely to hear her confirm this truth with her own words. Rooted under the weight of her revelation and the crushing pressure of the now uncovered secret, you felt no older than a child—waiting with bated breath over your mother's reaction.

“You’ve known?”

Your Mistress rolled her eyes, a flippant scoff coming from her upturned lips. “Of course, I’ve known. I see and hear everything in this house, even things I undeniably wish I had not,” she said, exaggeratedly shuddering for emphasis. “What did you think I would assume happened to Ayra when she started walking around here like a wounded duck? Immediately after that boy with the meats was here, I might add. I may be barren—and a widow—my love, but I’m not clueless.”

You nodded as if you were in a daze, dizzy with overwhelming feelings as you processed her words. “I—of course. I just don’t understand. Why have you never…”

“It’s never felt right. The timing, I mean. I brought you up to know what all of your parts do and how to keep yourselves safe when you decide to use them. I’ve merely had faith that you’ve done right by my teachings. My only worry was the type of man you were choosing.” Your Mistress groaned, lifting herself off Ayra’s cot to relight a weakly flickering lantern.

“If word spread that the girls of this home will do anything with anyone solely because they wield a sword… that could ruin us. However, I’ve also seen the men you and Ayra have chosen to bed. To be fair, none of them have been particularly awful choices. They’ve all been far too young for me, but I will give you consolidation for not picking ugly or embarrassingly weak ones. I’m satisfied in my knowledge that you both have standards.”

“Mother!” You scoffed, playful indignance clear on your face as you listened to your Mistress speak so candidly.

“Oh, spare me the modesty. I am proud that you tend towards the strong, high-ranked, handsome ones. Yua seems enamored with the pretty ones; gods help me,” she said, her chuckle almost melodic as it slid past her tongue. She crossed the room, coming into your space to pull you into a hug before letting you go. She wrapped her hands around the back of your arms and held you firmly in her grasp while she spoke.

“Listen, my love. I know that—despite my nagging—neither you nor Ayra truly intend to marry, at least for now. Your priority is maintaining this house and the sanctity of our name; I love you for that. But, I also know that you need to enjoy your youth. Sowing your oats and enjoying your muliebrity. You are a woman now, my love; all grown up and bedding valiant strangers.”

You groaned, scrunching your face as your chin tilted towards the sky with protest falling from your lips.

“So,” she said, extending the word, “with that said, I have faith in the knowledge that I’ve raised you well, and I acknowledge that you are a woman now, my little dove. I’m of no moral grandstanding to tell you what you may do with your own body. I merely wish that you keep your dignity intact as a girl of the Arai name. You do not let them take advantage of you or pressure you to do what they wish of you solely because of their status. Do you hear me? They may be hashira, but no man is worth throwing away your pride.”

You nodded, pulling her back into a firm hug that felt like home as she kissed your temple. “I love you, Mother. Thank you for your blessings.”

She nodded as well, her voice notably tight as she returned the sentiment. “And I, you. Now then, go enjoy your evening with a hashira.” She paused, squinting her eyes to the side in contemplation. “Well, two hashira. I suppose. Be more mindful of your limits than Ayra, I beg. I can’t have two ducklings waddling around this place. Dorothea is at that age where she has questions; I would like to keep her image of you in tack for at least a little longer—until you can explain to her yourself.”

You nodded, agreeing with your Mistress. “I will speak with her in the coming days.”

“Good. Now, be off,” she said, shooing you towards the room's threshold. “The men won’t entertain themselves.”

A giggle slipped past your lips as you walked down the entrance steps, that familiar fluttering beneath your ribs coming back as you exited the room. You glanced back, blowing your Mother a kiss before descending into the night.

୨୧┈┈୨୧

The air felt sweet with the heat of promise as you sauntered off into your home’s backyard, soaking in the scent of pine wafting off of the tall trees and the sound of creatures beginning their days in the night as you grew closer to the hashira’s abode.

For all your fretting about being late for your meeting with the men, you stopped at your quarters to change clothes anyway, exchanging your white kimono for a loose-fitting, ankle-length black yukata. The fabric was woven intricately with delicate silk, making a beautiful canvas for the embroidered sakura petals scattered in a pattern. You tied it together with a simple red obe around your waist.

You also stopped in the kitchens to grab provisions—mainly morokyu, onigiri, and berries. Who was to know how long you would spend with the men? Perhaps a few hours, perhaps all night. It was better to be prepared than to come empty-handed. As your Mistress said, to be a good host meant to entertain.

The moon seemingly rose higher in the sky as you rounded the stone path, drawn to the spring by the sound of disturbed water. The spring was half-hidden through the opaque fog from the steam, though you knew your way well from the placement of lanterns above your head. As you neared the water’s edge, a dulcet laugh traveled through the moist sulfur-scented air. Soft chuckles—sweet and rich like hojicha hot chocolate in the wintertime—and the pleasant sound of skin smacking gently against skin mingled with it.

“Ah, I believe the maiden has finally made it down the path to join us, Kyojuro.”

You heard the sound hashira before you saw him, squinting to see through the dissipating fog as you listened to pinpoint his location. A strong arm wrapped around your waist from behind, while long fingers reached out from the clouds in front of you to take the basket from your arms.

“Our apologies for not waiting on you, maiden,” Tengen said, his voice deep as he pulled you against his damp chest. “The hot spring was too enticing for our sore bodies. We thought soaking for a bit may help keep us nimble and relaxed throughout the night.”

You tsked, allowing the men to crowd into your space. The thinning fog and close proximity exposed them; now, their faces, framed by long hair, and their torsos were visible beneath the lantern light. From the feeling of Tengen’s firm front against your back and the trail of golden hair visible on the lowest part of Kyojuro’s stomach, both men had clearly done away with their yukata—entirely—after bathing. Their bodies were flushed from the heat; all pink tones beneath tanned skin with red-tinted lips.

“I thought men of such power would be better with following directions,” you said, your brows high. “I was meant to bandage you before you dipped in the springs. What shall I do with you two now?”

The men exchanged a long glance; the look was filled with many words spoken despite being unsaid.

“You could soak with us?” Kyojuro suggested, grabbing your hand to pull you toward the water’s edge. Tengen mimicked a shadow with how closely he clung to your back. His bolstering presence was a comfort as much as it was a distraction.

“This water is magic, dear maiden,” the flame hashira continued. “It’s healed nearly all of our injuries—it wouldn’t be wise to waste your bandages. Indulge us in a swim instead. The temperature is divine.”

You sighed, already tepid as the heat of the volcanic spring bathed the outdoors with added warmth. The men being so close only increased the sensation.

“How am I to trust opinions on temperature from a flame?” you teased, letting the men cage you closer between their bodies. “The air alone feels mere degrees away from hell.”

Kyojuro laughed, truly amused by your banter. In truth, it wasn’t that hot. The summer was coming to a close, and the wind created a gentle breeze that dissipated the fog's thick—stifling—warmth. You could hear the smile in Tengen’s voice as he crouched lower against your back, undoing the bindings of your obe as he ran his hands down the length of your body.

“Perhaps feeling the breeze on your skin will negate the heat,” he said, his hands holding the loosened fabric closed as he stood straight again.

You placed your hand over his, entangling your fingers with his large digits just enough to loosen his grip, the motion ridding you of your clothing as the garment fell to the Earth’s floor. You forwent wearing anything underneath.

“Wow.”

You chuckled, plucking a scarf from the basket Kyojuro held by his side, making quick work of wrapping it around your hair to keep it away from the sulfur-scented water.

“Wow?” you said, a laugh bubbling in your chest. “Is that all either of you has to say?”

Tengen adjusted the head wrapping, then twisted the curls that hung around your face. “There aren’t enough words in all the languages combined to describe your beauty. It should be a sin for a woman so mesmerizing to walk the Earth. You deserve heaven, maiden.”

You smirked, placing your hand on Kyojuro’s lower belly to guide him back into the spring with the stone steps, sidestepping the basket as he placed it on the outer rocks. You intertwined your fingers with Tengen’s to keep hold of him close behind.

“That’s laying it on a bit thick, sound hashira. Is this how you wooed your wives?” you said, teasing. “Also, heaven? That would infer that I’m an angel. I much prefer this type of heat.”

You listened to the men's banter as Kyojuro taunted Tengen, commenting on his methods for flirtation. You engaged as well as you waded through the water, sighing in relief as the hot water molded around your body, wrapping your overworked muscles in soothing bliss.

“This is a Ginseng hot spring,” you said, giving the men your usual short spiel about the home’s history as you circled each other in the water. You told them the tale of the home’s origins before your Mistress came to own it, how your family came to be, and how much you’ve always adored the land. The hashira listened respectfully and engaged in your storytelling to a degree you didn’t expect.

“You’re very learned,” Tengen said, looking impressed. “If you weren’t a house maiden, you could have been a scholar. There are female scholars in the East.”

You scoffed, lightly pushing away from Tengen as he held your hand beneath the water’s surface. “I’m just recanting my lifework. That doesn’t require smarts. Your fellow hashira—Shinobu, I believe was her name���visited us a few years ago with her sister. They were smart. The younger sister informed us that the spring has ‘carbon dioxide’ infused into the water. She said that the element is why the water helps tremendously with muscle pain and wound healing. It’s not magic, just… science. It’s fascinating.”

Kyojuro smiled, swimming behind you lazily with his hands beneath your body, holding you afloat once you leaned back, even though you didn’t need the help. “Leave it to ‘Nobu and Kocho to influence women all the way across the country to lean on science. In a world of demons, no less.”

“They were quite influential,” you said, smiling at the fond memory. “The younger sister helped me better explain health-related matters to my girls. She taught us simple tonics and salves that have kept us all healthy, even Mistress, with her recent colds and shakes. Though, with Shinobu’s magic, it always passes. I’m thankful to you hashira, for more reasons than one.”

Kyojuro hummed, his energy suddenly much too enervated for the occasion.

“She also explained how the water aids so well with stimulating blood flow,” you said, refocusing the subject. “I can see that it has done its job well.”

There was dense fog all around you, though, within the water, it seemed to repel away. You climbed on top of an elevated rock beneath the water’s surface—your legs and waist barely submerged as you settled on the smooth white stone. From your position, you could clearly see the lines and curves of both men’s bodies as they waded in the clear water beneath you.

Tengen soon decided to join you on top of the rock, sliding behind you and pulling you into his lap, while Kyojuro settled at your feet, his bottom half still submerged in the spring while he rested his top half against your legs.

“That it has,” Tengen said, subtly pressing his length into your back. “Thank you for giving us the history of your home. We’ve heard things about this land—including the many Arai men and women who’ve owned it—but it’s always nice hearing these things from an intimate source. We meant it when we said that your house is legendary in the town we slayers call home.”

You smiled, letting Tengen wrap his arms around your stomach. “How long were you soaking before I made my way down? You’re both quite flushed. You’ll get dizzy if you stay in here for too long.”

Kyojuro looked bashful, lowering his head to hide his face behind the upturned fringe of his hair.

“What?” you said, looking up at Tengen for answers. “What am I missing?”

He shook his head softly, though the ill-contained smile on his face betrayed his attempt to downplay things. You scowled, raising your eyebrows in a way you’d learned from years of watching your Mistress. “Out with it,” tacitly expressed solely through your eyes.

Tengen sighed, flexing his abs to bend himself forward at the waist, taking you with him. He grabbed Kyojuro gently by the nape of his neck, sliding him up onto the rock with you to sit by your side. You turned in his lap, sitting sideways to watch the two as they looked at each other, glancing at you before joining their lips in a kiss. Kyojuro’s ears blushed red as the sound hashira coaxed open his mouth with his tongue.

“Well, I suppose that explains things.”

Tengen smirked, obviously amused with your response. He placed a final peck on the flame hashira’s lips before looking at you, searching your eyes for something you couldn’t identify. “Does this bother you?”

You shook your head no. Nevertheless, it was delightfully pleasant to learn that more and more rumors were true.

“What thoughts are you thinking, maiden?” Kyojuro said, his voice nearly melting into the crickets’ nighttime songs. “You’ve said little the last few moments.”

You glanced between them both, emboldened in your feelings when Tengen wrapped one large hand around the swell of your hip while the other held Kyojuro’s hand.

“I’m thinking quite lecherous things, to be frank.” You winked, beckoning Kyojuro closer. “My mind, at this moment, is no better than any man’s.”

The sound hashira’s lips parted with promise as he leaned in for a kiss, only to move an inch away from you before making contact. Your eyes grew wide as you caught wind of his teasing, making you huff, which made both men laugh.

“Already so receptive, angel?” Kyojuro said, the sweet name coming out with ease. “I didn’t peg you as the type to pout—Head Maiden of the House Arai.”

You scoffed halfheartedly, relaxing to rest your head on Tengen’s chest. “Oh, now I fear for our future against the demons. I can’t help but wonder how you manage to live through each night with such broken eyes. You’ve even likened me to an angel again—one that pouts, no less. Gods help us all.”

You said the words passively, knowing well that you were not pouting. Tengen chuckled, idly teasing goosebumps onto the surface of your arms with long caresses.

Kyojuro drew closer again, nuzzling his nose against yours before the depth of his voice lowered. “I protect you from demons well, maiden. Nearly as well as I’m sure I will bring you pleasure tonight.”

You glanced down between your bodies, noticing how his cock descended past the tops of his thighs.

“Oh. Now your pout has deepened, angel.” He repeated the endearment, a playful light in his eyes blooming beneath the honey-hued lamps hung up above your heads.

“Oh, has it?” You smirked, mischief familiar in your bones as you turned your head to look up at Tengen. His strong arms felt familiar as he raised his hand, now free from Kyojuro’s hold, to palm your breast.

“I’ll say whatever you want to hear if it keeps that look on your face, maiden,” Tengen said, looking down at you. His eyes were that same dark shade of fuchsia that twinkled with promise. “You look as if you could eat me alive.”

You nodded. “So, you don’t see any pouting then?” You lowered your gaze back to Kyojuro for a moment, letting your intentions sink in as Tengen leaned in.

You captured Tengen’s lips in a searing kiss. He reciprocated with pointed glances directed at his partner. His lips were soft as he pressed them against yours—his hand on your body too soft and heated against the late-summer air. He kissed you as if he were a thief in the night, aiming to steal every ounce of your breath beneath the twinkle of stars in the midnight hour.

“Wow.” You gasped, internally whipping yourself for the less than eloquent reaction once your lips parted.

“Wow?” Tengen teased, laughing earnestly as he reached for Kyojuro’s hand to pull the flame hashira closer. “If kisses render you this incapacitated, I fear what may happen to you if you allow us to pleasure your cunt tonight.”

You scoffed but didn’t move as Tengen’s hand drifted down to rest against the lowest point on your belly, rubbing his fingers against the hair. “I am not distracted by simple kisses, hashira. I’ll have you both know. I am simply remaining vigilant by anticipating your next move. You can never be too careful out in these woods, you know! There are dangers worse than demons.”

“Oh really?” Kyojuro cooed, leaning in to nose along the column of your exposed throat, leaving a trail of kisses that were laced with tongue and teeth.

“Of course, comrade. We’ve seen many already,” the sound hashira hummed, pressing his half-hard cock against your hip as his hands roamed. “There are sins galore in these woods, and your lakes, tempting us all to embrace them. Since we made contact with your land, something has told me that you, maiden, are no stranger to them.”

You tilted your head, moaning as the flame hashira lovingly pinched your nipple. “That I am not,” you said breathlessly, running your hand down Kyojuro’s chest for contact as he kissed your other breast. “It appears you’re acquainted with them as well.”

You nodded, falling into the sensation as the men touched every inch of your exposed skin; you couldn’t help but note how methodical both men’s movements were.

This must have been similar to how they handled their swords; their devotion and dedication to mastery showed, and you burned hot with need. A fire in your belly set alight as the men forewent talking, exchanging only kisses and gropes of your hips and thighs.

Tengen adjusted your body, so your back was against his front again. A smile graced your lips as he lifted you a bit in his lap, crossing one leg under the other to balance you on top of his lap. This raised your lower half out of the water, exposing your most intimate parts to the night air. You let your legs butterfly open, soft giggles spilling from your mouth as the sound hashira cupped your sex with his large hand.

You’d grown wet with arousal at the kisses and his touch, allowing his fingers to slip easily through your folds. You moaned, a deep wave of pleasure rolling down your spine as Kyojuro nipped at your throat, descending to focus his efforts on your slightly swollen nipples.

“It appears the rumors may prove true about you as well tonight, maiden,” Tengen said, toying with your clit. “You slick so easily under the barest of touches.”

“So, there are more rumors then?” you said, smirking as you repeated Kyojuro’s words.

The flame hashira smiled against your skin, brushing his arms against Tengen’s as he mapped the lines of your body with his hands. Finally, he relented, leaning over you to capture your lips in a kiss—just as sweet and dizzying as the sound hashira’s had been. He straddled the leg Tengen kept extended, moaning into your mouth as the sound hashira tweaked Kyojuro’s nipple with his free hand.

“Many,” Tengen said, his eyes lidded as he watched you two build your pleasure. “You, head maiden, have songs about you in the south.”

You rolled your eyes, releasing the flame hashira from your kiss to nip your teeth at Tengen’s chin. “If you intend to jest all night, I can find a better way to occupy my time.”

Kyojuro chuckled, rutting his now fully hard cock against the sound hashira’s thigh. You lent assistance, letting the hashira rock passively into the firm grip of your hand.

“Lord Tengen speaks only the truth, maiden. Our soldiers dole songs about the beautiful woman belonging to the House Arai, as gilded in looks as she is in kind nature,” he said, pausing to kiss his fellow hashira. “We had no way of knowing which maiden the songs were meant for, but now that we know you, the answer is clear.”

Tengen nodded, fucking you experimentally with one thick finger. You sighed, unable to keep any breath in your lungs at the weight of the penetration.

“Gods,” you said, soothed by Kyojuro peppering your face with gentle kisses.

“The last verse details a cunt so sweet that nectarines weep in envy. Slick and soft as if made by the finest silk maison the Entertainment District has to offer.” Tengen continued the tale, sounding amused as your slit made slick sounds as he fucked into you.

You rolled your eyes again, shaking your head at the story's absurdity. “And how can you be so sure I am who the song speaks of? You haven’t had a real taste,” you said, a moan heavy on your tongue as Tengen’s gentle rubbing continued; his pace nor accuracy ever wavering as the sensation built.

“You’re right, maiden,” Tengen said, sharing a look with Kyojuro. “I believe that should be remedied. Don’t you think, Kyo?”

“Yes,” the flame hashira said before grabbing your wrist, pulling away from your hand to descend down the rock. He laid on his side, resting against the wet stone to relax easily between your legs—now half-submerged in the spring again. Tengen removed his fingers from your cunt, raising the slick digits to toy with your pebbled nipples instead. The flame hashira wasted no time.

He took you into his mouth with no preamble, sucking your clit as if he were kissing it, letting his lips linger against the bud with soft sucks before lazing out his tongue to lick the swollen nub. He moaned in contentment as you placed your hand against his neck, lightly gripping the hair there to ground you as the sensation built.

“Fuck!” You groaned, meekly trying to keep your voice down. “Up, a little, and suck right the—yes!”

Tengen leaned over your right side, tilting your head towards his to stifle your exclamations with a kiss. He kissed you hard, intent on keeping you quiet just as much as he wanted to bring you more pleasure. You had to be quieter; both men intuitively knew this.

It would be disastrous if you were to cause anyone—a young anyone—in your home to stir, wandering out into the woods to check on their head maiden. Though your home was at least three kilometers up the stoned pathway, it was not entirely out of earshot with all the open land. If you couldn’t contain your voice, it would be cause for concern.

You looked up at Tengen, something reflecting in the iris of your eyes that made the hashira urge to protect you. He pulled you into another kiss, swallowing the sounds whole as you moaned, feeling the weight of Kyojuro’s efforts on your cunt creeping up on you steadily. Tengen touched your body, snaking his free hand—that wasn’t kneading your breast—up the expanse of your throat.

You looked into his eyes, seeing nothing but soft admiration within the deep purple color.

“Gently.” You sighed, rocking your hips to meet Kyojuro’s tongue in a rhythm that made you feel dizzy.

“Okay, angel. I’ll be gentle.” Tengen said, his voice liquid velvet as he whispered in your ear. He traced your chin with his fingers—over the sweet plumpness around your cheeks before touching the fullness of your lips. You licked the digit as your head fell back, muddled with satisfaction as Kyojuro sucked the sensitive nub with quick bursts of pressure. Tengen took the opportunity to slide in his finger, applying slight pressure to the surface of your tongue.

“Suck it.”

You obliged, kitten licking the pad of his thumb in time with Kyojuro’s tongue against you. The added sensation triggered something primal in your brain—the need to please and be pleased nearly overwhelming.

“Please.” You moaned weakly around Tengen’s finger, writhing beneath Kyojuro’s hands as he held down your hips. You felt the tail tell signs of your climax encroaching as the warmth simmering beneath your skin began to burn, your brain a jumble of names and mindless words as the coil wrapped around the core of your being tightened.

“I think our dear maiden is close, Kyo. Don’t stop. Keep licking her just like that.” Tengen kissed your temple, then your cheek, whispering encouragement in your ears that made your spine tingle with chills. Finally, he pressed a hand on your lower belly, his large hand applying firm pressure on the soft flesh. “Can you feel it, angel? Right here? All that ecstasy pent up inside of you? Can you let it go for me?”

You nodded, closing your eyes to fully envelop yourself in the sensation. Kyojuro’s mouth was warm and wet; his tongue slid easily across your engorged bundle of nerves—licking, sucking, and moaning deeply as he worked to bring that simmer of pleasure up to a feverish boil. You hummed around Tengen’s finger, unable to stop the sound as the coil snapped—blinding you with unbridled euphoria.

Your thighs flexed with the strain from your orgasm, only avoiding smothering the flame hashira due to his arms pinning you down. His tongue didn’t relent as you made pitiful attempts to fuck his face, still steady and sure as he worked you through your high.

“You’re both a sight to behold,” Tengen said, removing his finger from your mouth as your whimpers turned to heavy breaths. He circled your nipple with the wet digit, enticing your body to push out more of that sweet, dizzying sensitivity.

Kyojuro smiled, placing merciful kisses against your swollen slit before soothingly licking your clit. He cooed as it twitched with small aftershocks, “you did so well,” falling from his lips in a daze.

Tengen chuckled, adjusting you in his lap so he could carry you out of the hot spring. Kyojuro relented, moving to allow the change as your deprived whimpers grew louder again.

“Tired, maiden?” Tengen asked, lifting you up and out of the sweltering water. Once your skin touched the chilled air of the night, you shivered, nuzzling into his muscular chest. Kyojuro lifted himself from the water, grabbing the basket you’d brought for the evening from the edge of the spring where Tengen stood waiting with you in his arms.

“Not even close, hashira. The night has just begun.”

୨୧┈┈୨୧

You’d never likened yourself to women who felt shy in front of men. You’d played with so many; all high-ranking, overly confident, battle-hardened, and sweet-talking. They’d waltz through your doors, occupy your time, and then fill your cunt. They were just there. Something to do, something to feel, someone to touch. In all of that time, no man had ever made butterflies bloom in your belly—not even when you were a newly matured babe, fresh and untouched. Yet here you were, fearful the winged creatures would carve you hollow and build a home in your gut.

“I’ve never done it this way before.”

You laid on a bedroll in the hashira’s lodging, allowing the men to move you this way and that until you were in the position they wanted. The room was relatively plain; all beige tatami-lined floors and saple-framed shoji panels with a stone-lined bath in a room to the side. The ceilings were higher than in the main home, and the lanterns warming the room were scattered more to cover the ample space.

The engawa wrapping the bedroom had a small bridge adjoining it to the opposing side of the structure, overlooking the pond winding throughout the interior courtyard. Wisteria hung in long vines from the wooden awning above, wrapping the guest home in even more protection.

The area was quite grand and was often only used to house more extensive groups of higher-ranking demon slayers. Rarely did you open the home for only two (or three) people, but the hashira were as high-ranking as ranks could go—they deserved to be bathed in opulence. Getting to indulge in it with them was a positive side effect of your tryst.

“We’ll make it enjoyable for you,” Tengen said, reaching down to support Kyojuro’s head as the flame hashira placed a pillow beneath his neck. Next, he laid beneath your body, near the end of the bedroll where Tengen kneeled in wait. Your head faced Kyojuro’s feet as you supported yourself on your forearms, on all fours above Kyojuro’s body.

The position placed your cunt directly over his face while his cock stood perfectly erect and weeping precum in yours. The sound hashira moved behind you, using the tatami for traction on his knees to fuck you from behind. “You prefer it gentler, right? Slow and deep?”

You nodded, then—realizing the sound hashira might not have been able to see it with how you were turned—said yes.

“Good,” he said, the smirk audible in his tone. “I can do that. Careful not to smother each other, nor forget to tend to one another. When the pleasure takes hold, you may lose control.”

The flame hashira chuckled, grabbing hold of your hips to position you better above his chin. “I won’t complain if the maiden tries to steal my breath away—that’s what we master breathing techniques for. Just be mindful, Tengen, of where your parts land. There are people beneath you, you know.” He pulled on your hips, forcing your legs to part more as you relaxed against the lower half of his face. Tengen grabbed hold when Kyojuro moved his hands higher, caressing the length of your spine with his lissome, calloused fingers.

Both you and Kyojuro moved at the same time, eager to get a taste of each other. The arousal tingled in your blood as you wrapped him in your warmth, licking the head of his cock with broad swipes before enveloping it with your mouth. It felt heavy on your tongue—the length long while having just the right amount of girth for it to be merciful on your jaw.

You closed your eyes and let the motion become mindless, falling into the rhythm of sucking as the hashira leveled his attention on you. Then, having memorized things from your time in the spring, he skillfully slid back into pleasuring your clit.

“Ready, angel?” Tengen asked, slowly stroking his thick length as he slid two fingers into your sex, testing the tension. “You’re wetter than the springs but still so tight. I want this to feel good for you.”

You sighed through your nose, sad to be parted from Kyojuro’s cock as you pulled off of it to speak. “I’ll be fine, Lord Tengen,” you said breathlessly, using the moniker he’d mentioned when discussing his wives. “I’m not sure I could feel pain right now if I wanted to. Our flame hashira has a tongue that makes you see stars. But, please, I want you in me too.”

Tengen chuckled, pressing the spongy patch of nerves within you as he removed his fingers. “Well, then. I don’t have to be told twice.”

The room went black as you snapped your eyes shut, moans tumbling out of your mouth as Tengen entered you, moving with practiced precision as he explored to learn what you like. You swallowed Kyojuro’s cock again to muffle the noise, even though you were removed from the danger of being heard.

The sound hashira lacked nothing in terms of length and measured agreeably in terms of girth. You could feel everything with the tempo he set; every drag of his cock against your walls, every tantalizing near miss from your womb, every twitch in his length as you squeezed around him.

Despite his large stature, the man was pleasantly skilled with his hips, almost too much. The sound hashira kneaded his balls, adding to the pleasure while amusingly preventing his scrotum from smacking Kyojuro’s skull. His hips angled slightly to the side as he fucked you, positioning his curved length perfectly inside you. He pulled out until only the tip remained before rolling his hips to sink back in—tantalizingly deep before increasing the speed.

“Gods, you take it so well,” he said, a guttural moan vibrating in his chest. “Is this how you like it, maiden? Being taken apart slowly at the seams, one stitch at a time, until you’re weeping for release?”

You moaned on Kyojuro’s cock, releasing him from your mouth with a slick pop before taking him in your hand.

“Yes, gods,” you said, riding the electrifying sensation of Kyojuro licking at your center, lapping at your clit with mesmeric concentration. “I—ah. The stall girls were right about so much. Horses, beauty, sunsets. I want your seed—both of you.”

Tengen chuckled, angling his hips down to hit the spot that made tears spring in your eyes. “Oh, Kyo. I think we may have broken her. She’s speaking in riddles.”

The flame hashira hummed, sucking your clit while dutifully laying still under the ministrations of your mouth. His left leg propped up, exposing his innermost place that you longed to touch.

“Can I?” you said, tracing figure-eights on Kyojuro’s inner thigh. “There’s oil in the nightstand somewhere. I want you to feel as good as I do.” You motioned next to Tengen, knowing it was there from Ayra—the girl sometimes needed the extra slickness on nights with larger men.

The sound hashira full-belly laughed, reaching behind himself to grab the most obvious-looking vial in the top drawer. Kyojuro moaned against your slit, placing a sloppy kiss against your lips before muttering, “yes, please.”

Tengen poured more than enough on your fingers when you extended your arm, resuming his motions once you settled back into position. Kyojuro made it easy for you by opening his legs more and tangibly relaxing his body. The mewling started at the first circle of your finger against the rim, teasing the sensitive nerves before sinking one digit in to the hilt—all keeping time with Tengen’s thrusts into you.

Despite the nearly overwhelming amount of stimuli happening across the entirety of your body, you focused enough to feel around within the flame hashira’s body, prodding and curling your fingers until—

“Gods!”

None of you lasted long after that; you wordlessly fucked each other with all the finesse your bodies could handle until you all reached your peak. Kyojuro was practically sobbing beneath you as he fought to maintain his breathing technique. Your fingers ceaselessly caressed his bundle of nerves while your mouth worked on his cock. Tengen exchanged the deep milking rolls of his hips for thrusts, fucking into you firmly as if gold would fall out from his efforts. Combined with the sweet petting on your clit from Kyojuro’s tongue, you were a goner.

“I can’t. I—fuck, I’m coming.”

Tengen moaned, his breaths deepening as his cock bathed your insides—protected from threats by a salve—in cum. Kyojuro followed quickly behind as his cum shot over your neck and chin in thick ribbons.

The room went dark again, and in the bliss of the afterglow, you slept.

୨୧┈┈୨୧

Lazing around on the engawa had been your favorite thing to do since you were a child. The large porch in the main home was elevated with two stories, the top level’s engawa overlooked most of the main property; all of the wisteria, a hint of the mountains, your Mother’s garden, the steam in the air from the hot spring—in the wintertime.

The hashira’s abode had a considerably bigger one. It was made of dark cedar wood and covered with scraps and knicks you’d fruitlessly tried to buff out. You’d given up on fixing it a few years ago, leaving the marks as a testament to the many strong soldiers who’d come and gone on their travels to protect the world.

After waking, you’d gone outside to lay on it, overlooking the pond at it’s feet in the interior courtyard. The space was filled with stone statues, an abundance of wisteria, Japanese maple and pine trees, and honeysuckle shrubs. The pond housed koi fish and lilies, thriving with other small fish while notably lacking any harmful algae. It was the pinnacle of relaxation; your stress turned to ash and flowed away with the wind when you spent time here.

With a pillow laid beneath your head and a large, thick, cotton futon beneath your body, it made sense that the hashira were drawn to join you.

“I think you may both be addicted to my cunt.” You giggled, kissing Kyojuro lazily as Tengen licked the sensitive nerves. “How many times do you two intend to bring me to climax tonight? I was so enjoying the koi, and you’ve come to distract me.”

Kyojuro nuzzled against your neck, lazily fucking into Tengen’s hand against your side.

“We couldn’t resist. You looked so peaceful we couldn’t help ourselves from wanting to contribute to it,” Kyojuro said, kissing the junction between your shoulder and chest. “Besides, you smell divine. I could get drunk off of your scent if you allowed it.”

You giggled, thankful for Ayra’s insistence on the wisteria oil.

“It’s from the vines. They produce a scent that brings even the noblest men to their knees; it seems to be working.”

Kyojuro nodded, inhaling mouthfuls of the fragrance as he came, painting white over your hip and stomach. He cleaned you with a rag, speaking sweet nothings into your ear as Tengen gave his utmost attention to your sensitive bud, working it until it was teetering on the edge of pain.

“You know, I believe there was a secret you meant to share with us, maiden. What was that memory you had?” Kyojuro said, laying on his back beside you, staring up through the awning’s slits to peer at the stars. “The one that made you smile so beautifully. That provoked us to have our game.”

“You want to hear it now?” Tengen chuckled, giving you a moment to come down from the burning edge of overstimulation, kissing along your inner thighs as your breaths slowed.

You smiled, turning your head to the side to look into the garnet-red of his irises. “I told you my secret. I wielded a sword out of turn to protect my sister. It’s the most exhilarating thing I’ve ever done.”

“But the memory,” he said, expecting.

You sighed feebly, relaxing your neck to look up at the stars again. Tengen kissed your lower belly, crossing his forearms across your hips in wait for your blessing to continue.

“My memory was nothing spectacular. I simply remembered something from childhood that reminded me how admirable the position of ‘hashira’ is. I am deeply thankful for your sacrifice,” you said, fighting the shake in your bones as Tengen’s mouth descended, licking you again in electrifying strokes. “I also believe you may not be the first flame hashira I’ve ever met, Rengoku Kyojuro.”

His brows furrowed as he turned to look at you, propping himself up on his elbow. He traced the lines of your face with his finger, lightly rubbing the digit along your bottom lip as he processed your words.

“You met my father,” he said firmly. “How old?”

You grinned, distractedly recanting the tale of how your Mistress came to acquire Ayra. The night you tended to your first hashira, a man so skilled and mighty that the wisteria vines around you shook in both trepidation and respect. How the man let you sit in his lap, telling you stories of his own boy—only a few years your senior, that was learning the art of the sword. He gave you a newfound respect for the hashira; not only as protectors or sell-swords but warriors with hearts filled with love, despite the horrors of the night that sought to drain it out.

“My father is a good man who’s been taken hostage by grief,” Kyojuro said, holding your hand against his heart as the pleasure grew, taking hold of your breath and making you shut your eyes. “I aim to be better than him. As a warrior, as a friend, as a man… and as a partner. I need to be better than him in all ways as I age.”

Tengen released you, mounting the pressure higher by delaying the release.

“That’s an admirable dream, friend. I believe you’ve done well on that aspiration already.”

Kyojuro nodded, falling back into his kisses as Tengen resumed, “beautiful, angel, ethereal” on his lips as you reached your high.

୨୧┈┈୨୧

You made love until early morning light broke through the clouds. Rice balls and berries fed to each other, with water shared and kisses galore exchanged in between. You laid on the disheveled futon, tangled in the sheets with the gentle sound of spring water in your ears. Tengen snored softly on your left, cradling your head in his arm protectively, while Kyojuro laid on your right, pressed against your breast with his arms wrapped around your belly. Then, as the birds began to sing with the sunrise, you stirred, snuggling in the warmth between the two men’s bodies.

The sound of wings cutting through the wind was audible outside the guest home's thick shoji panels, causing both hashira to awaken with startling precipitance. Their crows landed on the perch just outside the door, their bodies visible through it with the sun's backlighting.

They sat in silence as the crows squawked instructions, instructing the hashira to descend your mountains to go east and west, respectively, for missions.

“Duty calls,” Tengen whispered, kissing you leisurely despite the command. He stretched against you, pressing some of his weight against your body before grumbling about needing to gather his bearings. His hair was still down; a wild mess of white locks hung over his face while Kyojuro’s stuck up in the air.

The flame hashira grinned, placing a quick kiss on your cheek before leaving the futon, cleaning and putting away things around the room despite Tengen’s unenthusiastic protests. The sound of animals stirring in the barn lands around you and the soft rumble from carts descending the mountains alerted you for your duties as well; most of the girls would be waking soon to begin bathing and preparing breakfast, and your Mistress would be expecting you soon.

The rest of the morning went on with little fanfare. The hashira bathed with you in the middle, gossiping to each other as you cleansed the men’s backs. Before you all got dressed, you allowed their hands to roam your body for a while. You fell into the familiar pattern of pleasure before the crows cawed again, rushing you all to get on with your duties.

The sky was clear when you exited the guesthouse, all wispy white clouds and nothing but blue for the observable distance. Most of the girls were awake and floating around the home’s exterior when you approached—first, without the hashira—to alert them that the men were being summoned and thus were leaving. Sopheary frowned as she pulled weeds from the bushes, while Yua pouted, muttering something about “the pretty hashira” before stomping off to the kitchen to make a parting basket.

“You look well rested,” Ayra shouted, swiftly descending the stairs from the second-floor engawa. You chuckled, taking it in stride when the girl spun you in a circle, whistling as she peaked into your yukata and saw the myriad of marks across your skin. “Looks like you won’t be using our baths for a bit. Himari and Dorothea will have plenty of questions if they see.”

“I know,” you grumbled, using your Mistress’ arrival as a worthy distraction from Ayra.

You gave her a hug, feeling safe as she patted your back with her steady hand. Then, she pulled away, giving you a once over before side-stepping you to stand in front of the girls—everyone coming back outside as the hashira’s crows proceeded them as they ascended the path.

The babies grew fussy when the hashira said their goodbyes, begging to be held by you until the men gave them attention. The men accepted the gifts from the elder girls first, saying their thanks for the basket as they peeked inside. All of the contents were placed in an easy-to-carry satchel, light enough despite the plethora of goods that their crows were able to carry them.

“Well,” Tengen said, approaching you and the girls. His eyes held a fondness that should have felt foreign for a warrior. “I suppose this is goodbye, little ones. Until next time.”

You nodded, allowing the babies to go into the man’s arms like they’d fussed for. Tengen scooped them up easily, giving them both hugs that dripped with affection before putting them down. Kyojuro kneeled, allowing Sana to (attempt) to tie the golden omamori talisman into his ponytail, just as he’d promised.

“We hope you enjoyed your stay,” your Mistress said, giving the two a deep bow.

Tengen reflected the motion, grabbing hold of her tremoring hands in his large ones. “We had a wonderful time with your family. We’ll visit again soon.”

“Good!” Ayra said petulantly, wrapping herself tighter in her casual yukata. “Just don’t make us wait another two hundred and eighty-six days before you come to see us. I’m sure our head maiden would be delighted to serve you again.”

You rolled your eyes, bowing your head as well to show respect. “We wish you safe travels and pray for your safety in battle. Thank you for your sacrifice. It is not in vain.”

Tengen smiled, as did Kyojuro. They pulled you in for a kiss each, with no formalities in the way they captured your lips. Soft, sweet, and muddled with promises destined to be fulfilled. You ignored the gaggle of whispers behind you as you pulled away.

“We will meet again, maiden,” Tengen said, kissing the top of your hand. Kyojuro said similarly, bowing before following his crow to the gate.

You waved along with the girls as the men turned their backs, going opposite ways down your mountain’s path onto their next missions.

“Yes, we’ll meet again, hashira.” You thought to yourself, relaxing your arm as they disappeared into the distance. “So long as our wisteria blooms.”

i hope you liked this :') i'm sorry it took me so long to come back to it. i've been so insanely busy that I haven't had much time to write, but I couldn't leave this fic hanging. it's easily been one of my favorite things that i've written. i got a new job recently but i have time off until that new position begins. so, i hope you enjoyed my return. i'd loveee to hear your thoughts <333 crossposted on ao3 || taglist || tags: @bokuroskitten @rosesandtoshi @crystal-lilac @murdereddaydreams @mxgenderbender

[kemakoshume]

Okay first off, congrats on 350 followers! You deserve that and much, much more babe <3

Now I absolutely loved the last Asahi fic you wrote for me (I reread it so often you have no idea lol), and I'm here to make another request if you feel like doing it! I don't know if you write for Aone but he's my current obsession haha. So I was thinking a drabble for him or Asahi if you don't write Aone, reacting to reader making a move and initiating sex for the first time? (Also chubby reader would definitely be a bonus!)

No pressure to do this of course, but thank you if you do! Either way I'm gonna be stalking watching to see what sorts of drabbles and headcanons you end up writing to celebrate your milestone!

𝐋𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐮𝐱 – [tl;dr – making the first move and initiating sex with Asahi] ~ ❀ஐ〰

a/n; hi sweet pea! i hope you're feeling better :') tytyty for the request! i'll write it for asahi because i dont really read anything about aone & i didnt rly click with him in the show so im afraid i'll make him super OOC by accident lmao. also, this prompt came at the BEST time. i just got done watching this video from best dressed aka ashley and im in the biggest "first time" mood. ily for this ♡

warnings; virgin reader (cause why not, let's go wild), first time, chubby fem reader (as per usual), reader kind of having a late bloomer sexual awakening "hey sex sounds fun actually" sorta thing. masturbation, titty suckin, lots of praise, etc.

(￣ω￣;) me: "yeah i'll do drabbles" also me: [3772] words ~

The relatively short time you've spent dating Asahi Azumane have been the best few months of your life. He was sweet, and thoughtful, and he knew how to make you laugh. He was achingly handsome and you could swear you saw literal stars in his eyes. But lately, after six whole months of knowing how to act, your hormones now refuse to cooperate.

Have you always gotten warm at the sight of his biceps stretching the cotton sleeves of his t-shirts like that? Has the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he drinks his water always made you squirm in your seat? Have you always felt this flushed and warm under your collar when he brushes the tips of his fingers against your thighs?

Now, you weren't blind. His long brown hair, structured jaw, and lean build had always been things that you noticed. The way he kissed you made you feel butterflies and you wanted to choke him out of love every time you saw him smile but fuck.

You knew you were later to the "sex sounds fun" party bus that most of your peers had long since been riding, but Asahi knew that. He was content with your kisses and the way that you cuddled and he never pushed you past your limits. But now, on this random Tuesday afternoon in the breezy warmth of the September season, the limit no longer seems to exist.

"Hey babe," you whispered, peeking over the rim of your tea mug to look at your man on the floor.

"Yeah?" he said, turning his full attention to you, placing his pencil down on his sketchpad like he wasn't just fully engrossed in whatever new piece he may have envisioned in his mind.

His pretty brown eyes were looking up at yours through his cute little wire-rimmed reading glasses, and fuck, you're a goner. Is it possible to be so horny that you think you'll die? Because you're pretty sure you'll collapse right now if he looks at you that way one more goddamn time.

"Uh, I... can you come up here for a sec?"

You felt your pulse racing against the smooth skin of your wrists and in the junction of your neck. Was now really the right time? Before your evening lecture and right after he had just been over to collect sweets from his Nan? Had you discussed this enough? What if he was secretly just not interested and that's why he had never made a move? What if he only enjoyed looking at you under the blanket of clothing you wore most of the time? Would he even like the way that you looked naked? Was he-

"Hey," he whispered, disrupting your thoughts, "you okay baby? What's on your mind?"

Now, there was probably a more eloquent way to say this. Anything would have been better than the words you chose. Still, you'd never seen Asahi's sweet doe eyes grow larger than when you blurted out the words "I think I'm ready to fuck."

If the big man upstairs had an earthling remote with a pause button on it, then he'd just pressed Asahi's.

"Uh, I, what?" he stammered, "Well, no, not "what." Not like it's a bad thing. I just, you, are you sure? We haven't talked about it in a while and I know you're not waiting for marriage or anything but you, I mean we, you... you never really seemed to be rushing and I didn't ever want to push you. Are you bringing this up now because of something I said, or did? Did I make you feel pressured honey? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, I mean, I didn't know that I-"

"Babe," you interrupted, a sweet giggle escaping your lips, "okay, now you're the one who needs to chill out."

You crawl across the short length of your bed to where he's sitting near the end. Normally, you'd just sit beside him like a good, virtuous, wholesome girlfriend, but today... wholesome no more.

"Asahi," you whisper, climbing into his lap to straddle his waist, "I said what I said. I want you to fuck me. I don't feel pressured, not at all. I'm just... realizing how badly I wanna show you my love in a different way. In a way that we haven't tried yet."

You drape your arms around his shoulders, sliding your hand up the nape of his neck to gently scratch at the sensitive nerves there. You lean in for a kiss and hum into his mouth as he reciprocates your affection. You let your tongue explore his mouth and really feel the kisses for the first time. Your lips linger on his for a moment longer than you normally would before pulling away, and soon you find your body swaying a bit with his as you both start to get into the sensations.

"Do you want to have sex with me?" you question, breaking the kiss for a moment to place your forehead against his, looking into his eyes, "Tell me what you want."

He groans, closing his eyes shut as if he needed to collect himself for a moment. His hands tightened their grip on the meat of your ass and your hips a bit before he relaxed them, running them underneath the fabric of your shirt to trace his hands up your spine.

You've never been so happy that you weren't wearing a bra.

"I wanna make you feel good," he whispered, like the words would shatter the air in your room if he said them too loudly, "I wanna... I don't know, make love to you. Fuck. I just, I want to go at your pace. So, if you're ready to try this with me then I want to. You're in control here. So... you tell me what you want."

You pondered the thought for a moment as you leaned back in to exchange heated kisses.

If you were being honest, most of your sexual knowledge stemmed from three things: your friends' hoe tales, sex educators on social media, and the rare occasion that you watched amateur porn online. They all preached and showed plenty of visual examples that knowing yourself before knowing someone else would help a lot the first time, and you could confidently say you knew your own body pretty well even though your drive to have sex with others had never been this high.

So, having that in mind, you said, "I think you should watch me touch myself. So you know what I like, yanno? Then you can join if you want, maybe?"

Asahi was lucky he wasn't ice cream because the boy would be a puddle of sweet cream on the hardwood right now if he was.

"Oh my god," he said, his voice gruffer than you'd ever heard it before, "You gonna touch yourself for me? Show me how you do it when you're alone?"

"Mhm," you mewled, arching your back so that your breasts were pressed up against his chest, "If that's okay."

You can feel him growing harder already, his confined length forming a bulge against your ass. You moved your hips experimentally, delighted by the little gasp that spills out from his mouth. You can feel how slippery wet you're becoming just from his kisses.

"No, of course, yeah. It's okay. So, where do you start?" he questioned, tracing figure eights on the side of your thighs with his fingertips, "Do you play with these?"

He brought up his hands to cup your breasts, massaging them, and running his thumbs across your nipples, hard and sensitive even through the barrier of your t-shirt.

You nodded your head yes. Kissing him again to distract from the growing desire to moan as he touched you.

"Don't be scared to make noise baby," he said, placing kisses followed by shallow bites across the underside of your jaw, "Tell me what you do when I'm not there to take care of you. I can't learn unless you teach me."

You whimpered, absentmindedly grinding yourself harder against him.

"You like pinching them a little?"

You nodded, doing so yourself through the fabric to show him that you liked it.

"Can I take this off?" he asked, pulling gently at the hem of your shirt.

You tensed, only for a moment. The nerves were there, of course they were, but this man loved you, and you knew that. So you said fuck 'em, and let the love of your life help rid you of the top half of your clothing.

"So pretty baby," he said, kissing down your neck towards your breasts, "I can feel how fast your heart is beating. You nervous?"

"A little," you admitted, a soft whimper quickly followed when he kissed the puffy little bud, "Not too much though. I'm more excited, I think, than anything else."

You could feel him smiling against your skin.

"That's good baby. Do you wanna get more comfortable?"

You nodded, sliding yourself off of his lap. You crawled up the length of your bed, adjusting your body so that you were laying propped up on your little legion of pillows stacked up against the headboard.

"Take this off," you said, motioning to Asahi's shirt, " ‘s not fair that I'm basically naked and you're still dressed."

He did as he was told, standing up to remove the offending piece of fabric, all but throwing it down on the floor. This exposed his well-conditioned (former) athlete’s body. His muscles had softened a bit as he’d grown away from the sport and embraced the comfort that came with a loving relationship; the lines of his toned abs were less defined, the cut of the “v” around his waist wasn’t as deep, and his stomach dommed like yours when you ate. He was sweet and soft and god you would never get over how much you love him.

“Wait,” you said, making your partner stop his descent back onto your bed, “Take your boxers off too. But like… put your sweats back on afterward.”

He chuckled, quirking his head to the side a little before agreeing, standing back up to do as he was told.

“Any special reason why you want me to do this?”

You sucked your teeth, looking away from him to glance at the wall in lieu of looking at his face. You couldn’t help but giggle a bit to yourself at the thought dancing around in your brain. How could you possibly explain that dicks were still very… interesting to look at for you. They just weren’t… well.

Dicks just weren’t exactly pretty to look at, alright?

Though, to be fair, you had felt his before, multiple times. During the occasional intense makeout session on the floor of your room or while you sat in his lap while you watched movies, but you’d still never seen it. So, seeing it first through his sweatpants, fully hard and free within the loose fabric instead of confined within his boxer briefs may be a good transition.

“I just... I want seeing it to be a surprise for later, kinda.”

He laughed, a pretty sound coming from his belly that forced him to squint his eyes and show you all his pearly white teeth.

“Okay, I’ve never heard that one before in my limited years of sexual experience but alright. Whatever makes you comfortable baby.”

He leaned down to grab your chin between his thumb and index finger, placing a flurry of kisses against your lips before basically sprinting into your attached bathroom.

It only took him ten or so seconds to remove his sweats, then his underwear. You did however hear what curiously sounded like him tripping over himself to get said sweatpants back on.

“You okay in there?” you giggled, trying and failing not to see the humor in his little flub.

“Oh, yeah I’m great,” he said, coming out of the bathroom with his sweatpants hanging even lower on his hips.

He leaned against the doorframe trying to play off the little blunder. His hair was thick and silky, cascading down the hard planes of muscle around his upper arms and the meat of his full pecks. You could see the outline of his cock clearly now, the length hard and thick and just long enough to reach down past the top of his thigh beneath the relaxed fit of the fabric. If you weren’t already, you were undoubtedly aware of how turned on your little impromptu suggestion had made him now.

I mean, to be fair, who doesn’t get excited about the prospect of getting their dick wet for the first time with someone new? Especially when that “someone new” was with their sweet, untouched, perfect bombshell of a girlfriend. He couldn’t help but be hard like that for you, at the mere idea of getting the chance to finally fuck you.

“God you’re pretty honey,” you said, the words slipping from your lips without any thought behind them.

He smiled, climbing back onto your bed to sit in front of you, laying his chin on your propped-up legs and wrapping his arm around your thighs.

“You’re prettier baby. Quite literally the most gorgeous human being I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I bet you’re pretty all over,” he said, grabbing your knees to pull them apart a little, butterflying your legs, “Especially right here.”

He tentatively ran a finger down your clothed sex, dipping the digit into the warm slick dampened fabric. You had worn a pair of thin cotton shorts, sans underwear, so the barrier between you was tantalizingly useless.

“Feels nice,” you said, your voice soft and breathy as his finger softly mapped out your folds.

He chuckled a bit, hooking his finger through the patch of fabric covering your most intimate parts.

“Show me how to make it feel even better.”

You nodded, bringing one hand up to your chest to caress your breast, while you let the other rest on the warm skin of your plump lower belly.

“‘S’really sensitive here,” you said, rolling one hard nipple between your fingers, “Sometimes I suck them myself when I’m alone. I can’t really cum without something stimulating them.”

“Oh wow, my pretty baby’s so delicate,” he said, kissing at the skin of your inner leg, “You look like you’re gonna fall apart already angel.”

You moaned at his praise, the warmth building beneath your flushed skin surging as you felt his lips touch a part of you that he’d never touched before.

“I’m not,” you said, though your tone did betray you a bit, “It just feels good. I’m not there yet.”

“Oh?” he said, quirking an eyebrow up, “Then what do you do next?”

You met his eyes, looking at you like he’d eat you whole if you let him and you'd hardly even done anything yet. It was too intense, too intimate, so you looked at the ceiling instead as you lifted your hips a bit, letting Asahi help you slide your little sleeping shorts off of your body, exposing your slippery wet pussy to the cool air of your bedroom.

You lowered your hand from your belly down to the small patch of hair above your cunt, tentatively applying pressure to your outer labia before letting your fingers slip into your own wetness. Asahi kept his hand wrapped firmly around your inner thigh, just below where your fingers were starting to work in tight little patterns on your clit.

You were practically dripping all over your sheets, knowing he was watching you get yourself off like this. Could he tell that you liked the rhythm of three circle patterns and then up and down? Was he looking at how much you were leaking? Could he see how hard you were trying not to stare at his face?

“God you’re fucking amazing,” he said, sucking on his own bottom lip as he stared at your sex, and blinking slowly like a little tomcat relaxed and satisfied after a long day of successful hunting.

You felt a rush of heat go up your spine at the praise. His sweet words scratched an itch inside your brain that you never fully realized was there. Then suddenly, he moved.

“Need to touch you,” he groaned climbing up the length of the bed in one long stride.

He came up to hover his body above yours, leaving room between your tummy and his so that your hand had room to continue moving.

“Can I kiss you right here baby?” he asked, lowering his head to put his face a few centimeters away from your nipple.

His breath was ragged and heavy, blowing warm air on the hard bud just beneath his lips.

“Please,” you whined, grinding yourself harder against your fingers.

He kissed you, pinching your nipple lightly before he took it into his mouth, sucking on it like it’d give him the elixir of life if he just kept pleasuring you.

“Fuck, Asahi. Fingers too, please,” you moaned, the warmth swirling in your belly building but lacking something… extra.

He looked up at you, searching your face to make sure you meant it. When you nodded at him gently, angling your arm to rub against his length as well, he obliged. He bypassed your own hand, going lower until his fingers were pressing up against your slit. He pressed in, started with one. The intrusion wasn’t as shocking as you thought it might be, since you had done the same to yourself many times before.

However, there was one stark difference. His fingers were markedly bigger than yours, and the stretch was delicious in how different his fingers felt from your own. He rubbed along your inner walls at a matching rhythm as your own digits, pumping and dragging his fingers around until he found the little spongy button that made your vision go blurry.

“Oh, there. There, there, there,” you cried, circling your hips to move with his fingers and yours.

The noises you were making were intoxicating. You could feel how hard he was against your belly, his swollen length throbbing incessantly against the fabric of his pants. When you moaned, deep and long as you let all the air in your lungs run out, his cock twitched so hard you feared he might cum before you could even get him inside of you for the first time.

That in and of itself was its own form of praise.

“Baby,” you moaned, feeling that lightning crackling across the sensitive nerves in your clit begin to reach a fever pitch, “I’m gonna cum. Can I cum? Please?”

He groaned, nodding against your chest with your nipple still sat snuggly against his tongue.

So you did, letting the wave of pleasure crash over you like a typhoon. You arched your body against him, rubbing against his length as well as it was trapped between your bodies.

“Fuck,” he moaned against your skin, feeling you clench around his fingers, “Next time I’m making you cum with my mouth.”

He came up to kiss you again, removing his fingers in one smooth motion as he did so.

“In me,” you muttered between kisses, “I need you in me Asahi.”

He groaned into your mouth, physically shaking a bit at your words.

“God, angel, I wanna feel you so bad. I want you to scream out my name and scratch my back and cum on my cock so hard you forget how to talk,” he said, his eyes fluttering closed as he kissed at your cheeks, “But, you can say no at any point. If it hurts, if it’s too overwhelming, whatever. Okay? You can say no and we can, shit, we can just watch movies all night, fuck your night lecture. Or, we can go to a restaurant, or… or.”

“Or nothing,” you interrupted, bringing up your hands to hold his face to soothe what was obviously a bit of anxiety, “You’re gonna fuck me and I’m gonna love it, and we can do whatever else sounds good afterward. I’m not going to my class whether we end up ordering pizza or fucking all night either way though. I’ve decided already.”

He chuckled, his smile stretching across his face as he looked down at you underneath him.

“Sounds like a plan then babygirl,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose, “Ready for that surprise now?”

He made his eyebrows jump a bit, a smirk curling up the corner of his lip. You couldn’t help but giggle, nodding your head as you propped yourself up on your elbows. You grabbed a pillow to support your neck while Asahi grabbed another as he sat back on his heels.

He slid the pillow underneath your butt, grabbing you by wrapping his arms around your thighs to pull you down so that your butt was on the edge of the pillow, but your back was supported.

You looked down to where he was palming himself through his sweats, a wet spot from where he’d been leaking precum straining the fabric. He made staggered eye contact with you as he pulled down the waistband of his pants, letting his cock spring free from the confining apparel.

So, his dick was beautiful, actually.

Well, as pretty as a dick could realistically be.

“Woah.”

He looked up at you with a hesitant smile on his face as he maintained a loose grip on the base.

“Good woah, or bad woah?”

You couldn’t stop staring at it. It was a decent length and noticeably thick, but not too much. The color of his skin there matched the rest of his body, albeit maybe a shade or so lighter, and his hair was groomed well, like the rest of him. It was flushed a gorgeous shade of red, and his balls looked heavy and full, ready to fuck you open the way you’d somehow never fully imagined before this moment.

“Definitely a good woah,” you said with a smile present on your face.

He reached down to the floor to grab his wallet, grabbing a condom out from the pristine leather pouch. He rolled it on before coming up the bed to balance himself above you again. You could feel him resting on top of your sex. His cock was heavy and warm and leaking within the latex barrier.

“Ready angel?” he asked, kissing below your ear.

“Ready.”

hehehe lmk your thoughts ~ the masterlist for this milestone celebration // also posted this on ao3: here if you wanna bookmark it over there || taglist request || TAGS: @anime-central @hqintheclub

[kemakoshume]

𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝚈𝙾𝚄 (𝚃𝚆𝙾) — [𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝟒𝐊 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛 hosted by the lovely @hornime] ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞: [ 𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬://𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥_𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐧_+_𝐜𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫_𝐬𝐞𝐱 ] - [ .𝐦𝐩𝟒 ] – (𝐣𝐣𝐤 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)(𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

a/n; hi guys ~ so... i uh… i took some liberties with the prompt for this collab. this is more of a… creating digital porn sorta thing more than just watching it or doing homemade partner stuff. looking at the medium from the "professional" content creator side, yunno? — this was lightly inspired by the #origamicamp sw thing that was going around on tiktok (& this art by cathexis_art on twt), but i’ve had this concept idea for a while so i’m glad i had an excuse to write it.

+ this will be in four parts! because i have no self-control :D [pt 1 — pt 2 — pt 3 — pt 4]

warnings/content included: part one warnings — sw (onlypans/corn), slightly awkward f!reader, discussions about having sex with a lot of ppl in a short amount of time. this whole first chapter is just fun shit & "worldbuilding." more suggestive than sexy. getting to know some characters sorta things. enjoy :D [4.8k words]

~ playlist i had going while i wrote this: here ~ loose mood board for this fic in case you're interested: here (its messy but oh well lol) ~ enjoy! ଘ(੭ˊ꒳ˋ)੭✧

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔬𝔫𝔢 — 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 ~

𝔵

"So, has everyone signed their model release forms?"

You looked down at the sheet of stark white printer paper in front of you, skimming over the words one last time, your signature still missing from the dotted line:

“I hereby consent to the rules outlined and discussed on the page prior. I, _____ (initial), consent to and willingly participate in the explicit content creation business event organized & held on today's date _____ and agree to follow all rules outlined by the event coordinators on the page prior. I acknowledge that the money(s) earned will be split on a personal accrual basis; meaning, all content creators will post their own content on their own accounts & profit what they make separately on their individual accounts.”

Noted.

“As stated in the event rules page, consent must be given enthusiastically and can be revoked at any time. Content will be reviewed on the last night before dismissal from the premises for approval by all involved parties. Once approved, the content must be advertised and shared as agreed unless all parties concede to terminate the agreement.”

You sighed, reading over the last sentence again and again before releasing your focus on the words. Your eyes flicked up, looking around at your intended coworkers.

All the men and women around you, some new to you and some not, all seemed calm. Some looked devilishly smug, bouncing their legs in barely contained excitement for the weekend to come. Others looked indifferent but pleasant, and some looked bored, probably from the ongoing hour and a half of legal jargon you had all just sat through.

You felt butterflies creeping into your stomach as you looked at the myriad of personalities present in the space. The boy next door, a young brooding hot guy, a muscle pig, a MILF, femme girls, masc girls, an older brooding hot guy with long hair, a walking Dolce & Gabbana advertisement with white hair—and that was just to name a few. Though, you couldn't help it when your eyes were drawn back to the last two; they were the only people in the room that were already caressing each other’s skin, and lazily playing with the loose tendrils of each other’s hair.

It shouldn’t have made you gasp when your gaze was caught by theirs, but it did; and you couldn’t help the flush of red that bloomed beneath your skin when they smiled at you, like starved wolves that have just found a wounded rabbit in a small clearing in flower-filled woods. You broke eye contact, looking back down at your papers to feign interest in the text.

“Everyone done?” the man—a ghastly (albeit adorable) little lawyer that had been hired to handle legalities, said. He dragged his eyes across the room, making half-hearted eye contact with all of the faces situated at and around the large pinewood conference table. “Does anyone have any questions or objections to what we’ve discussed before I take your contracts to be notarized?”

Everyone looked at each other inquisitively, making eyes at each other as if to say, “do you?” You kept yours on your paper. A few beats of silence passed, and just when the lawyer—Ijichi, maybe?—moved to speak again, the white-haired man raised his hand in the air, like a mischievous school child about to pester his favorite, typically timid, teacher.

“No objections Kiyo. Can I call you Kiyo?” he said, ignoring the shaky reply from the sapless man. He lifted off his dark tinted glasses to expose his beautiful azure blue eyes, locking them onto your face.

You looked up, noticing the intensity in his gaze. He looked at you as though he could see every curve and edge of your soul. Maybe he could, who knows? “I think we might have a virgin — so to speak — in the room. Mei Mei, is this one a recruit of yours?”

You looked to your left, dragging your eyes along the sharp lines of the woman’s face. Your gaze settled on her cherry-red lips.

“She is not one of mine but I do wish that she was. I’m assuming you’re our casting call addition, right little one?”

You nodded your head, a soft “yes,” leaving your mouth.

“Ah, so cute,” she cooed, sweeping your hair back behind your ear. “Nervous?”

Your eyes dropped down to the valley of her breasts, the full span of her chest exposed with the excessively low neckline of her flowy lavender dress; the garment also included a lace corset bustier that she’d cinched tightly at her waist, drawing even more attention to the fullness and curves of her body. Her lazuline blue hair draped across her lithe shoulders.

“No,” you said softly, feeling the facade whittle as you will yourself to look the woman in her eyes. “Well, maybe a little. I’ve never done an inventory load with my content before— which, if I’m honest, just means that I’ve never planned on having this much sex in just a few days. But, I am not a virgin so I’m sure I can take it. I’m just having some pre-sex jitters I guess.”

The woman smiled at you, running her manicured nail soothingly up and down the goosebumped surface of your upper arm.

“Oh, don’t be shy love. Don’t worry, we don’t bite. Unless you want us to — of course,” she said with a wink, glancing down at your contract that remained unsigned but not saying much more.

The blue-eyed man looked between the two of you, a coquettish grin on his lips. “We love to hear that. So, Kiya, when exactly can we get on with the fun part?”

You hear a small groan from your left, looking over to see a woman in the middle of an eye roll. She’s beautiful, and you’re sure you’ve seen her online before. Fetish work? Maybe JOI content? Domination? You can’t remember.

You’d researched (watched porn featuring) — at least — fifteen of the people around before coming down to the estate for filming over the weekend; however, after watching so many videos, they had all blended together and you mainly only recognized people vaguely by their faces. You also didn’t get a chance to watch content from them all anyway, so nearly every interaction would be a surprise.

She crumpled up a loose sheet of plain printer paper and chucked it at the tall, white-haired man sitting across from you.

He caught the little ball mere centimeters from his face and dropped it coolly on the smooth surface of the sturdy desk. “The ‘fun part’ starts when you sign your contract instead of sizing up the newbie,” she quips, muttering ‘asshole’ in a hushed tone that everyone in the room could still hear.

“Oh don’t be so sensitive ‘Hime. If you want to take some aggression out you could at least wait until we’re filming.”

Your eyes snapped up to the blue-eyed man’s neck, watching the long-haired man next to him apply a noticeable amount of pressure around the nape, raking his fingers through the loose hair there and pulling it tight.

He noticeably stops talking, and you don’t miss the shared smirk that the woman and the hair-puller exchange. The air feels thicker with heightened tension since most of the people in the room noticed the display.

The lawyer prickled, locking eyes nervously with the tall blonde sitting on the opposite head end of the table from him.

“Kento,” he whispered, not-so silently begging for intervention.

The man rolled his eyes, sitting up taller in his seat. “Satoru, sign. For anyone else who hasn’t signed, if you’re having doubts, that’s fine. No one here is going to force you to make content and we don’t want you to feel pressured. No hard feelings if you decide against participating. We saved this final section of the contract signing until you were all here for a reason. You can still opt-out.”

Your eyes trailed around the room one more time, and you saw nothing but sweet looks and small smiles being exchanged in return. Everyone had signed but you, and it must have shown. A small group of people, two boys and one girl, looked at you quizzically.

The one with pink hair and soft eyes quirked his head, reading you and your face without you saying a word.

“Okay, listen. We’re all here to fuck, make money, and have fun for the weekend, right?” the boy said, glancing at the spiky-haired man by his side. “This should be a no-stress zone! I know I’ll be really bummed if anyone leaves but I think everyone here would understand, yeah? Content weekends aren’t fun unless everyone is genuinely on board. So, speak now or forever hold your peace?”

His tone was light and subduing; any tension left in anyone’s shoulders softened, including your own, as his honey brown eyes went all doe-like similar to a puppy. You giggled a bit to yourself, taken by the young man’s sweet demeanor when you felt eyes on you again.

The man with white hair and his partner were examining you. You felt warm, just from the caress of their eyes along your body. How could you back out without getting to know how their hands would feel? About how all their hands would feel?

You looked down at the contract again, not even reading the words but just taking in what the signature would mean. Your first time doing back to back shoots. Your first time having sex with more than one — okay, two… maybe three — people in one day, and god only knows how many over the whole weekend.

Though, you thought to yourself, they were all professional, experienced, people who respected boundaries and knew what they were doing, and were all quite beautiful to look at.

That thought was… exciting, really, not scary.

“Fuck it,” you sighed, picking up your pen to scribble in your initials, then your full birth name in both signature and printed form across the bottom. “You only live once.”

The group — at least twenty people, give or take — all made a little show of clapping for you, whistling and bumping into each other in thinly veiled excitement as you placed down your pen.

“Well then,” the blonde said, rounding the table to take all of your documents, “thank you Yuuji for the pep talk. With that, if everyone’s signed their paperwork then I think we’re good to go.”

He walked over to the shaky lawyer, helping him clip together the contracts in an organized manner, loading the documents into the man’s very thick, patent leather, briefcase. “Okay, that’s all from me. Have a fun weekend everyone,” he said, bowing a bit as he made his way out of the room, then out of the massive house you were all renting.

It felt like the entire room took a communal sigh of relief as he left. Even the blonde huffed, sliding his hands into his pants pockets as he leaned on a chair. “Alright, I think we’re free now,” he said, eliciting a small round of giggles. “Well, go explore. Rooms are up for grabs on a “finder’s keepers” basis, and they all have toiletries and robes for everyone. The kitchen’s stocked, the outdoor patios will be heated for the night, and it’s just us — on a private lot — for about three miles, so do with that what you will. If you need anything, our management company’s intern Akira is on call and in the area so don’t be afraid to speak up. Any questions?”

No one showed any intention to say anything.

“Good. We’ll discuss matchups for content in detail later after you’re all settled. Now that’s it. Disperse.”

Everyone hopped to their feet immediately and began to scramble around the house, like little ants in search of spilled sugar within the home. You noticed pods of people breaking off on their own; they were likely friends with established chemistry and comfort with each other already.

Some people moseyed around the space, looking around and taking in the decor as they made their way around the rooms. You couldn’t help but be part of the second group.

The home had beautiful decorum arranged well around the massive space. The main area was littered with reimagined art nouveau works that the owner had organized in a gallery-like display on the walls. The furniture was all notably vintage but very well taken care of, and the lighting fixtures that hung high above your head had crystals that made little blings of light dance along the floors and ceilings.

The space was comfortably warm, despite the slight chill coming in from the autumn season outdoors; mainly because of the abundance of natural light coming in from the wall of tempered glass windows, and the space held plenty of flourishing plants that made the air feel rich.

How could a home so grand feel so intimately beautiful?

You made your way up the large winding staircase, looking down the long hallway with staggered heavy oak doors. You walked down, looking passively into each room as you went.

Most housed people in them already, their voices and laughs caring down the wide corridor as you passed by. There were a few rooms with only one bed, though even those had more than one occupant, small piles of people draped on top of each other playfully in their rooms.

Having joined via casting call and not word-of-mouth, nearly everyone was a stranger to you. Would it be awkward to just… waltz into a room and say: “Hello strangers, I’m here to occupy your space.” Maybe they had another friend they were waiting for already, or they thought they’d gotten lucky and no one would take up their space, or…

“Hi!”

You jumped, feeling your soul momentarily detach from your body. “Hi,” you yelled back, swinging your body around to look back at the petite blonde standing a bit too close to your back. You looked the girl up and down inquisitively, momentarily distracted by the pretty blue color of her doe-like eyes.

“Uh, are all the rooms up here taken?” you said, motioning down the hall, noting that the lights were on in most of the rooms though you didn’t know who or what all they contained.

The girl rocked back and forth a bit on her heels, sliding her hands into the cleverly hidden pockets stitched into her dark blue a-line dress. “Well,” she said, dragging the word, “technically no, but also yes. All of us cute younger girls are bunking together in that room at the end. It’s basically a suite — it’s so fucking massive. You can join us if you want! We have enough robes and stuff in there for everyone, and the bathroom has two toilets, and the shower is a waterfall kind. I shit you not we can all fit in there at once, and —”

“Momo,” a voice called from the room, “stop gabbing at the new girl. She can come look at it herself.”

She looked at you, shrugging her shoulders with a giggle. “Yeah, she’s right. Come on, you’re gonna die when you see it.”

You nodded your head, adding a little involuntary bounce to your step as you followed her into the room. “Oh fuck,” you muttered, dropping your bags at your feet as you came face to face with the interior of the space.

There was only one word to really describe the room you’d stumbled your way into: fucking breathtaking.

“Is that,” you stammered, pointing at the expansive ceiling, “is that a recreation of the Sistine Chapel?”

Momo hummed, plopping herself down onto her own bed pushed over and into a corner of the room. There were a few other girls in the room as well, all sifting through their things to pull out whatever they needed for the night.

“Insane right?” one of them — a girl with short black hair and cat-like eyes — said, lazing around on her bed. “God. Nanami and Utahime really outdid themselves with the planning on this one. I’m almost impressed.”

A girl popped up from the floor by her bed, only one earring on correctly, with the other gripped between two of her fingers.

“Hi new girl!" she chirped, sticking her earring back into her ear. "I can’t believe they managed this solely off of the money we all put in. I heard they even got a company to come clean for us and top off the food and stuff while we’re staying here,” the girl—sweet-faced with mint blue hair and eccentric curtain bangs—said, gasping when she realized what she’d said. “Aw, man. I think that was supposed to be a surprise. Don’t say anything! I couldn’t take it if Iori got mad at me.”

All the girls chuckled, including you, watching the girl look like she’d work herself up to tears over spoiling the news if you let her. She plopped down onto a chair in front of the vanity by the black-haired girl's bed.

“Miwa, please. She couldn’t be mad at you if someone put a gun to her head and it’s not a surprise, so relax. She definitely told all of us that.”

“Oh. Thank you, Mai,” she sniffled, wiping away tears that never came. “You’re so sweet sometimes when you try.”

Mai prickled, shouting profanities at Miwa despite how much she cowered, pulling the blue-haired girl down from the stool onto her bed.

You chuckled, looking away from them to move towards the door by the entrance. “What’s in this room?”

The blonde perked up, jumping down from her tall bed. “Oh! It’s an extra room,” she said, opening the door to expose the inside. “It only has a bed and a mirror but we’re gonna turn it into a makeshift content room. Stock it with some extra sheets and towels and have the lighting and everything set up in there already. Convenient right? Now we don’t have to use any of the “smoosh rooms” — whatever the fuck that is — if we don’t want to. I heard the Itadori idiot nickname them that.”

Miwa giggled, her head slotted beside Mai’s as she was pinned to the bed. “I think he’s smart, and really sweet. A lot nicer than your cousin at least, Mai. He is a cutie too though, just in the ‘I’m trying very hard to seem mysterious right now — beg for me to let you see the real me — my favorite color is black and I hate sugar’ — kind of way. I’ll give him that,” she giggled, having — apparently — mimicked the cadence of his voice perfectly.

The black-haired girl chuckled, making a little “ick” noise with her tongue sticking out. “Gross. Thank you for reminding me he’s here. Thank god we’ll probably end up filming content at different times. That way I’ll be busy when he’s doing it, and he’ll be busy while I’m doing it. I don’t wanna see him — or my sister — or hear them and this place is big enough that I probably won’t have to,” she said, a little smile on her face. “Everyone wins.”

You grinned, picking your bags off of the floor to sit them by the unoccupied bed by the window. The girls had all unpacked and arranged their things around the room, save for the space they left untouched for you.

“Where are the content rooms anyway?” Miwa asked, her voice sounding more strained under Mai’s muscular build. “I didn’t see them.”

Mai lifted herself off of Miwa, plopping down onto her side with a huff. “I’m pretty sure they blocked off three rooms downstairs somewhere — just as big as this room apparently, and there’s two blocked off up here, plus our room.”

The girls looked between themselves, all shaking their heads with a shared, “cool.”

“Cool,” you giggled, taking toiletries and clothes out from your bags and sitting the items down on your bed.

The door to the bathroom swung open as you did, a girl with spiced red hair exiting with another person following closely behind her. “Oh, we got another girl?” the ginger said, tying the knot on her robe loosely around her waist, “Sweet. Welcome to the rodeo.”

You caught a glimpse of the bathroom as they exited. It was almost as big as the bedroom.

“I’m Nobara, this is Maki,” she said, motioning to the girl behind her. She gave you a little smile, waving half-heartedly as she dropped down onto her own bed in front of yours.

“Oh, baby,” the ginger said, climbing onto the bed to hover her body over the girl, pulling her into a kiss. “I’m tired, and I want some wine. Did you bring it?”

Momo yelped like she’d made a brilliant discovery of some kind. “Speaking of,” she said, digging around in her bags, “did everyone bring lingerie and/or bathing suits?”

You all hesitated, thinking it over as you rummaged through your own bags.

“I did, actually,” you said, moving around your clothes until you found a little orange two-piece set, sitting it down on your bed. “I didn’t think we’d use the pool but I did see something about a hot tub in the invitational, so, yeah.”

“Wonderful,” the blonde said, fishing her own suit out of her bag. “Bara? Maki? Mai? Miwa? Did you guys b—”

Momo stopped in her tracks, turning her head to see all four girls holding up their suits, still in their beds. She clapped, practically jumping out of her skin with excitement at not only the fact that you all had suits, but that they all looked similar enough aesthetically that you’d look like an ensemble, despite not all being friends.

“Perfect. Then, I have a little proposition for an ice breaker,” she said, reaching into one of her bags to pull out five things: Twister — the board game — boozy wine, a polaroid camera, a few cowboy hats, and a small pile of name tags. “What do you think?”

You looked down at the myriad of items, opening and closing your mouth like a water-starved fish. “I,” you paused, “I’m gonna be honest. I’m a little confused at what I’m looking at.”

The blonde chuckled, tossing you one of the cowboy hats — a bright orange one to match the bikini you’d placed on your bedding. “We’re all about to spend the weekend fucking each other and basically everyone else in this house that we choose. So, what better way to get to know each other than by getting a little tipsy, playing some games, taking pictures — you get the point. What do you think?”

You looked around at the other girls, nodding your head to say yes, and so did they.

“I’m down,” Mai said, getting up to snatch the uncomfortably warm bottle of wine from the petite blonde. “But, why the bathing suits?”

The blonde smirked, taking a little pouch meant for makeup out of her bag. “We should put on a little show. Get dressed, do our hair and makeup, and preview the goods. I mean, we’re here to have sex all weekend. Might as well start off with a bang.”

Miwa laughed, holding onto her stomach, “A ‘bang?’ That’s, oh god, that’s a good one.”

Both Mai and Maki rolled their eyes in tandem, both muttering, “oh jeez,” to themselves. Nobara found it just as funny as the blue-haired girl. You giggled too.

“Okay, you easily entertained little weirdos,” Maki chuckled, lifting her body off of her mattress with her girlfriend still sitting pretty in her lap. “Guess we should get dressed then, hm?”

Nobara nodded, picking her phone up off of the charger next to Maki’s back when her phone screen lit up with a message.

“Megumi says they’re making pizzas downstairs,” she said, moving slowly to get off of Maki. A few beats passed and her phone dings again, and all of a sudden she was moving with vigor, practically running around the room to get ready.

“What’s wrong,” you all croak, slightly disturbed by the whiplash-inducing change in attitude.

Her eyes were wild and crazed and she took off her robe, her bare breasts exposed and her underwear quickly discarded. “He said Yuuji and Todo are already down there.”

Mai dropped her phone on the carpet in her haste to disrobe, slipping on the flimsy, complicated, material of her bikini with unnatural ease.

“Oh fuck, that was a warning! Todo could eat a small house by himself if he wanted to, and I can’t imagine Itadori’s much better,” she said, looking up at you, Momo, and Miwa standing awkwardly as you watched the two rush. “Well hurry up! We’ll starve if we don’t get down there before they have at it. This is not a drill people—go go go!”

She corralled you all into the bathroom like cattle, shoving your makeup bags into your hands like a madwoman. “You’ve got maybe, maybe , ten minutes,” she said, speeding off to do her own makeup at the vanity not far from her bed.

You and the girls shared a look, fumbling around with your makeup and hair tools to get going.

Looks like the weekend had begun.

woohoo, first chapter done. chapter two will be posted either thursday or friday :D crossposted onto ao3: here (♥ω♥*) || @anime-central @crystal-lilac @cursedarchiveblog

[kemakoshume]

𝚂𝚄𝙶𝙰𝚁 𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷 (𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚒 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛) — tw: drugs, threesome ✼:♡*ﾟ✿

~ [for the "The More The Merrier" collab by the amazing, talented, wonderful @sinnerofthewalls] ~

a/n; no thoughts, 2:30 am, head empty. itafushi brainrot in full effect. speedran and wrote this all in one go [2.7k words]— written to this song ~

warnings/info: fem!reader (coded physically to be black but idc what you imagine, just don't be a dick about it), dwugs, sex on the drugs, safe drug-use etiquette, threesome, oral, p in v sex. boys kissin boys, friends being pals (basically a budding poly relationship sorta thing). not dc IMO but im adding my dc tag too anyway —tags: @anime-central @cursedarchiveblog— don't do drugs, this is an unrealistic work of fiction lmao. drugs are not worth the irl drama or turmoil ~

Currently having nonstop thoughts about having a threesome with Megumi and Yuuji while you’re all hyped up on cocaine.

After a long night out partying, you can't help but feel relief once you stumble into your shared apartment with your best friends, letting them follow you into your bedroom despite both of them also having rooms in your place. You can't even make it to the bed, instead choosing to fall straight onto your bedroom floor with the two handsome men alongside you.

Megumi would be saying something, griping about how his head is swimming a bit still because he might have drunk just a touch too much, while Yuuji would be rolling around, threading his fingers through the shaggy material of your large area rug, as bouncy and cheerful as ever.

You don't know why you said yes tonight when a girl in the nightclub toilets offered you a little dime-sized baggie, saying that she'd had way too much already, but you did. The contents were smooth and white and enticing enough to make your mouth drip wet with saliva at the sight. She'd gifted you pure ecstasy in a plastic pouch. What kind of person would you be if you said no?

The guys both blink at you like you had spontaneously grown a third head when you crack open your phone case, fishing out the little baggie from between the case and your cell.

You look between the two of them without explanation, reaching over Yuuji to grab your laptop from your nightstand that he's leaning against. You fish a credit card from the phone case wallet you took with you on nights like this where you didn't want to carry a purse, and you begin to break up the already pretty smooth powder into multiple lines.

"Is that what I think it is?” Megumi finally says, breaking the silence hanging over the room.

"If cocaine is what you think it is then, yeah. I'm pretty sure it's what you think it is," Yuuji replied back, scooting closer to you to watch what you're doing from up close.

You lean over him again, reaching into the deep recesses of your middle drawer to get your mini testing kit for the drug, making quick work of mixing a tiny section of the powder with the testing solution to make sure it is what the girl told you it was.

You always said you never really wanting to die alone if you could help it, but dying of a preventable overdose in your college apartment, and bringing your two best friends down with you too? Yeah, no. That wasn't a plan you had in mind.

So when the little liquid turns green and only green, matching the guide that directed you on what drugs turn the solution which color, you know you're in the clear.

"It's good," you announce, breaking the remaining powder down into lines.

The two boys look over at each other then at you, when suddenly Yuuji reaches down into his pocket, fishing out a dollar and handing it over to you.

"Thank you baby. Don't worry, you two don't have to if you don't want to. More for me," is all you say before dipping down to sniff up the white powder off the surface of your laptop case. You do so without a flinch, throwing your head back once you feel the drip begin to flow down your throat.

You see them knock their knees against each other, small smiles creeping onto their faces.

"Ah, what the hell. Worst it'll do is sober me up, best it'll do is get me high," Megumi says, plucking the rolled-up dollar from your hand so he can inhale a line for himself.

Yuuji follows suit, taking a line and a half all in one go.

You all take deep breaths, relaxing onto the carpet as you let the high creep in, since the buzz did come on quickly and rather strong.

"Oh fuck," Yuuji groans, letting his head loll back and he feels the drug begin to rush to his brain, "God that's good shit. Where'd you get this?"

You giggle, letting your eyes close as you lean back on your forearms, just... feeling it as you repeat the story back to him.

"Random bathroom girl. Too high, gave me the rest of her drugs for free. Blah blah blah."

Megumi chuckles to himself. About what, you aren't sure, and you're a little afraid to open your eyes at the moment to find out. Everything will be off-kilter and moving a bit too fast once you do, and you need one more moment of peace in the darkness behind your eyes before you subject yourself to that.

You aren't actually sure how much time passes, but you can tell the other two have grown a touch antsy with the new stimulating substance flowing through them.

You can feel a hand lightly grip the exposed skin of your thigh. Your dress is short enough that while sitting down the way you are, you're sure the two men can see the pretty cotton fabric covering the surface of your sex.

You finally let your eyes open, taking in the sight of your two besties sitting right up against each other. Their faces are only a hair length apart, their noses basically Eskimo kissing.

"Fuck, you look so pretty right now," Yuuji said, staring deeply into Megumi's eyes as his thumb began to caress the skin of your upper thigh.

It's not unexpected when they lean into each other, kissing to distract one another from the nasty nasal drip that had already passed for you. Or, they were just kissing to kiss, no distraction needed. They'd done it before. Well, kissing that is, not this specific drug. At least not to your knowledge. Other drugs though? They'd definitely done, and it had almost always ended in kisses then too.

There was something so intoxicating about watching them together. Their kisses are soft and sweet despite how hard the lines of their bodies were. Sharp jaws, firm muscles, long limbs, but still so pretty together. You can't help your gasp when the two men let their tongues loll out to tangle together among the slickness of their spit, their bite swollen lips coming together to make the most beautiful sounds.

Yuuji moans into it, rubbing his free hand up the length of Megumi's stomach, pulling at his shirt.

"Off."

He then looks over at you as Megumi undresses, pulling you up and into his lap, between them, as he envelops your lips into a flurry of kisses.

"Fucking beautiful, both of you," he says between the kisses, holding you in his lap by placing his hands underneath your ass, grabbing as much as he can manage even with his large hands.

You feel Megumi slide up behind you, putting his body flush against your back and slotting his legs between Yuuji's so you're in both of their laps now, forcing Yuuji to move his hands up to rest against your thighs. Your hair is already up and out of the way in a mess of sweat-damp curls wrapped in a loose bun, but he still grabs your hair anyway, pulling your head back and away from Yuuji so it's resting on his shoulder.

The raven-haired man captures your lips in a kiss of his own, running one of his hands up your body from your waist until his hand is cupping your braless breast through the form-fitting fabric of your nightclub dress.

Yuuji is touching you too. Kissing your wrists as he makes his way up your arm, coming up until his face is right in front of both yours and Megumi's. He puckers his lips cutely, his doe-eyes full and expectant as he leans in more until he's breathing in all of your air.

"Jesus, so fucking needy," Megumi chuckles, grabbing his friend by the nape of his neck to pull him into the kiss. You all kiss back and forth, licking into each other's mouths and peppering kisses on any skin you can reach.

Yuuji takes off his shirt as well at one point, along with his pants, leaving him exposed in his snug forest green boxer briefs. His cock is hard and hung beneath the fabric and you can't help but gulp down your own spit at the sight of it. Who gave him the right to be physically jacked, with the sweetest personality you'd ever encountered, and have a huge dick?

It wasn't fair for one human to be that perfect.

It feels nice how warm to the touch he is as he rubs his body against yours. He supports your weight in his strong arms as Megumi lifts you to shimmy off his jeans as well, along with adjusting your bodies so that Megumi's back is supported on the frame of your bed. He groans into it when Yuuji sits you down to relax into his lap again, and you begin to absentmindedly grind against his length.

"You're both so hot right now, fuck," Yuuji moaned, sliding his hands up from the bottom of your dress, pulling it up until the relatively thin fabric is bunched up around your waist.

Megumi runs his hands along the lines of your shoulders, using his thumbs to pull down the straps until the top of your dress is also wrapped around your waist, exposing your breasts.

Yuuji slides out from under your legs, sliding his body backward until he's laying down on his stomach. He fumbles around with his hands, smacking at the surface of your bed until he feels the pillows hit his palm that he was looking for. He slides one under his stomach so he can lay comfortably, while he slides the other beneath your ass where you're hanging out of Megumi's lap a little.

"Before I begin my feast, would anyone else like another line?" he says, sliding the cocaine-dusted laptop over to where you're sitting on the clean surface of your vacuum-abused bedroom rug.

He uses your card to make three more lines, smaller than the first few but still hefty in their own right. He cranes down his neck to take up a line, pinching his nostrils closed as he leans his head back once the drip starts up again.

He hands you the laptop, letting you take your own line in with ease. Megumi has his arms wrapped around your breasts, only removing one of them to lean down around your shoulder, pressing his face against your neck to take his own line. He presses his finger against the laptop cover, collecting the last few morsels of the drug. Then he pushes his finger into your mouth, dragging the digit across your gums until you can no longer feel your own teeth.

He removes his finger once he sees a smile cross your face. You can see the numbness, the tingles, the ecstasy... all of it begin to cross both of their faces again as well. Yuuji's laughing, and now so is Megumi, so of course, you start too. Everything just feels so fucking good. It's impossible not to.

"God," you moan, the dopamine firing off at insane rates in your brain, "I need you. I don't care who, I just need someone in me. Fuck, I could cum just from your fingers at this point."

You're reaching your hand up to caress the side of Megumi's face, and he kisses the back of your hand.

Yuuji grabs a water bottle from somewhere, probably your dresser, and chugs it. He swishes the water around in his mouth for a moment before swallowing, trying to get the remnants of the drug out from his mouth before he goes down on you. Numbing up your clit by accident didn't sound like a good time.

"Hold her open for me Fushiguro," Yuuji said, reaching forward to pull you down further on the pillow.

Megumi had a pillow slid behind his back as well, so it's simple when he grabs your legs, sliding his own body down just a touch so that he can hold you open for Yuuji easily.

To be frank, it's almost embarrassing how fast you're cumming once Yuuji gets his mouth on you.

You're extremely aware of Megumi's presence holding you steady, and Yuuji tearing you apart. Megumi's hands are busy tweaking your pretty pebbled nipples while his mouth sucks and licks at the sensitive skin below your ear. While Yuuji's tongue is busy licking at your cunt. He's firm and precise in where he chooses to lick at your folds. Your clit was overly sensitive in the best way with the hum of the drugs flowing through your veins, making everything more sensitive. But when he starts fucking into you with his long tongue, using his thumb to swirl across the surface of your clit? Oh, you're a fucking goner.

"Aw, Yuuji, you're making our princess squirt already. Haven't even fucked you yet and you're making such a big mess on the new rug," Megumi teased, kissing at your neck as your back arched off of the man's torso.

You could feel the flood of liquid coming from your sex when you came, and it was indeed making a mess. All over the floor, all over your thighs, and all over Yuuji's face.

It shouldn't make you smile as hard as it does when he comes up for air, his face drenched in your slick, with the goofiest smile across his face once he realizes how good he made you feel.

"I've never seen her do that before. Gotta say, I think I'm a fan," he says matter-of-factly, coming up between your legs to kiss at your lower belly.

"Fucking idiot," you giggle, smacking the top of his head softly.

You're thrown back into the deliriousness of pleasure when Megumi snakes a hand up your body, coming up to wrap his hand firmly around your throat.

"Don't get too relaxed baby girl. We have so much more to do."

So, yeah, you end up fucking like little rabbits the rest of the night, even once the coke has eventually started to wear off.

The ecstasy surged through every neuron firing off in your brain, down through all the nerves in your body for the first two or so rounds that you had sex. Megumi fucked into you at a punishing pace as Yuuji lets his cock slide along your folds. He rubbed up against you that way until you came for them again, clenching around Megumi so well that he came inside you, filling you to the brim with his cum.

In the next round, Yuuji takes you from behind, fucking you like you were molded for his cock while Megumi lets you lean into him for support, kissing you as you took Yuuji's dick until you came around him as well. He was too big and his dick curved just the right way and you can't help it when you end up crying, yelling out in ecstasy as they both work in tandem to rip the third orgasm from you that night.

The last two rounds are all about you. How many times they can make you cum? Who can give you the strongest orgasm? All the while, the two boys are also touching each other. Kissing and caressing and milking each other for orgasms as well when their refractory periods are over and they're ready to go again.

It feels like a lifetime has passed when you see the faint beginnings of overcast daylight breaking through your windows. You're finally all tucked into bed. Begrudgingly clean since Megumi had forced you all up and into the shower for a lazy cleaning after all the excitement. Though, you can't complain too much. Not when you got to be cleaned and kissed and adorned by the two men as they showered you, and not when you got to watch as they kissed and took care of each other.

The comedown would be a bitch to deal with the next day. You can feel it coming on already. The frazzling in your nerves, the fog coming in to muddle your brain and make you feel as grey as the incoming cloudy sky, but that's okay. The morning would come with take-out breakfast and cuddles and comforting kisses. How could you not see the bright side in that?

sooooo... what'd you think? lmk lmao. when i say i speedran this shit i mean i just finished writing and crossposting this and it's only 4:30 am. it was supposed to be a drabble but come on... my drabbles lately are never drabbles. oh but speaking of crossposting, this is also posted on ao3: here. i crosspost just in case something happens to this acct so go bookmark it if you want it just in case || taglist request || ~

[kemakoshume]

𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬 [yuuji x roommate reader]

𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴 – 𝔪𝔡𝔫𝔦 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ~ this was a p w/o p... then i blinked and there was plot :’D warnings: oral (fem receiving) & penetrative sex. slight degradation kinkiness (puppy is said). just good old fashioned, sloppy nasty (SAFE, for once) sex. you know the vibes. fem!reader. the slightest of slight dubcon cw’ings for drinking ~ reader is a chubby reader in my mind, no explicit body descriptions are in this though. [4.1k... by accident].

[imagine being roommates with yuuji at the beginning of this dumpster fire of a pandemic] ❀✿＊*

You decided to room together after you finished college. Both adults with newly minted diplomas, and entry-level jobs that did not allow for either of you to live on your own. So, you took inventory. After a few short hours of pouring over your moderate list of friends, you both quickly realized you were each other's best bet. Overnight you were now officially college friends turned roomies with Yuuji Itadori. What could go wrong?

Apparently the entire state of the world. That's what.

The first few months you two lived together went surprisingly smoothly. You both worked opposite schedules: him working mainly in the day as a trainer doing boxing lessons, while you worked overnight in a care facility not too far from your home.

The two of you had been close enough to consider each other “friends” more than acquaintances in college, but admittedly, you weren’t actually around him very much while you were in school. Not in this same capacity, at least. You knew how he partied, and treated people, and studied, but you didn’t know how the guy lived.

You were pleasantly surprised to find that Yuuji cleaned up after himself well enough, at least in your shared spaces. He rarely left out mess or grime that he knew would irritate you and cause unnecessary stress. he cooked for you a lot. He knew that if he didn't make you food with actual vegetables, you would either eat like crap (eating food at your work that should not be legal to advertise as nutritious), or he knew you wouldn't eat enough at all.

You often woke up in the late afternoon to see a lunchbox packed in the fridge, almost always with a note since Yuuji tended to be off somewhere with friends or asleep recovering from work in his bed. You came home in the early mornings to the same, seeing food placed out for you with a note since the trainer was normally gone and active for the day by then.

He was quite literally the best thing you could've imagined. Around enough with a presence and personality that filled your space even when he was gone, but with enough room between you that you could miss him, despite living in the same place. That space gave you distance from any feelings that could bloom and complicate things, and that was fine for a while.

Being his friend and his roommate was easy, at least until things took a turn and the world quite literally fell apart. both of you had to work your jobs from your shared apartment, and subsequently went from barely seeing each other to being stuck together almost 24/7. There were no more secrets about how you spent your time away from each other, no other face-to-face interaction from friends outside of your bubble to distract you, no one else to run to for fulfilling your urges. no one else to spend time with... but each other. Things could’ve been worse though. There were worse people to talk to, and look at, and spend time with. Regardless, it was still a shock when randomly, seemingly out of nowhere, he asked you...

“Hey, when’s the last time you went on a date?” Yuuji asked you one night, munching absentmindedly on a piece of toast, leaning over the sink in your kitchen to let the crumbs cascade down the drain.

Plates didn’t matter anymore. Nothing did.

“Like... forever ago,” you said, making a face that spelled out “We’ve been stuck inside for over a month, dumbass.”

“I mean, duh. Dating with a virus going around like... isn’t happening,” he said, absentmindedly flipping through rows and rows of potential shows for you to watch, “But, even before this, I don’t know when you had time to go out. You slept all day and worked nights and on the weekends.”

He wasn’t exactly wrong. You pondered, thinking over your last few months before the pandemic. It wasn’t that you couldn’t make time to meet someone, or that you couldn’t meet someone, you just always felt like you didn't particularly need anyone around. Specifically, a boyfriend, to feel fulfilled. you had a career that stimulated you, friendships, and your own thoughts to occupy your time. When you got bored, you had every streaming service possible, a vibrator, and a whole laundry list of new hobbies to try in case whatever you were doing at the moment lost your interest. 

You didn’t exactly desire to constantly have another human underneath you, always in your business and your space, and you never really had. But, the way things were, you missed human touch. More so, you missed the plethora of opportunities to create new connections if and when you wanted to. You hated not having the choice.  

But then, there was Yuuji, coming through the front door every morning with thoroughly disinfected bags of takeout food from your favorite shop down the road. He’d come in at night after getting groceries ordered from your local market, and cook dinner for the two of you to eat while you worked through your “need to watch” list. What did you need a boyfriend for when he was there?

“Dating just felt like a waste of time then, honestly. My work hours made keeping something steady going really hard, and most of the people I met were either boring or slimeballs anyway. Should’ve taken it more seriously while I could’ve I guess. Oh well,” you sighed, sinking deeper into the couch in your living room, “What about you?”

“What about me?” he questioned, plopping himself down onto the couch next to you, a cold beer in hand.

He dropped the TV remote in your hand, letting you take the wheel on deciding the film for the night since he’d chosen the last four times. You scrolled back to the top of the screen to switch over to your own profile on your shared streaming account. You slid over to the left, scrolling down to find the “play random” button, and let film gods chose your viewing experience for the evening on it’s own.

“You know,” you continued as the opening credits rolled, distracting both of you just before the movie title rolled on screen, “Were you dating before lockdown started? I know things didn’t work out with “he who shall not be named, for the time being” but were you starting to see other people?”

“Hm. Yeah, kinda,” he said matter of factly, downing a deep swig of his beer.

“Kinda?” you said, furrowing your brows, “What does “kinda” mean?”

“Well, it uh,” he stuttered, “It just means I was seeing some people, just not in any formal kind of way. Nothing serious enough that it lasted once we had to decide to either forego seeing each other for an undecided amount of time, or basically move in with the person. I was just going with the flow, keeping things casual.”

“Ah, “casual,” you said, making air quotes around the word, “That’s guy talk for: I was fucking any and everything that walked with no plans of commitment. No judgment here, just find it interesting that you’re trying to downplay it.”

He raised his eyebrows at that, before scrunching his face in a way that you found pretty damn adorable.

“I wasn’t... I mean, I didn’t always, not really,” he sputtered, trying and failing to come up with the words to defend himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” you nodded, “Of course. You totally weren’t already out on the prowl by the time I left for work. You were at nightly church gatherings where you made plans to feed the needy, right?”

He scoffed, taking another deep sip from the brown opaque bottle, drinking past the halfway point. He wasn’t as close to you as he physically could be, there was definitely enough space between the two of you that he’d have to very pointedly make an effort to touch you, or vice versa, but you could already feel the heat radiating from his body rising from the alcohol.

“Okay, okay. Yeah, I was normally out hooking up with somebody. My job gets the blood flowing, yunno? And, not to be big-headed or anything, but people kinda tend to throw themselves at me. I just reciprocate the energy given to me,” he shrugged.

“Sure, that didn’t sound cocky in the slightest,” you scoffed, turning your attention towards the TV as you let your body fully melt into the couch.

A girl was giving a mafia don a blowjob on a plane. A very aggressive blowjob at that. With... spit running down her jaw, and the side of what had to be a dildo masquerading as his cock was visible, going in and out of the woman’s mouth at an uncomfortably brisk pace. 

“Oh,” you breathed, the air instantly being pushed from your lungs.

You could see Yuuji in your peripheral vision, and he looked calm, way calmer than you were sure you looked. 

“Oh? This is what you chose for your movie pick?” he said, the tone of his voice dipping lower than you’d ever heard it aside from when he was recently roused from sleep, “Why was everyone raving about how “sexy” this movie’s supposed to be, exactly? Looks like he’s trying to force his dick through her skull by way of her mouth.”

You chuckled, reaching over to punch him lightly in the arm.

“Okay, say less. I’ll just,” you said, reaching to grab the remote from where you’d sat it on the coffee table in front of you.

Yuuji reached faster, grabbing the remote before you’d even had a chance to stretch out your fingers for it.

“What the fuck?” you giggled, pawing at him for the remote while he held it just out of your reach, “Give it. I’ll just pick something else.”

He shook his head no, turning his eyes back to look at the screen illuminating your shared space.

“How about we make this a drinking game instead?” he suggested, raising an eyebrow at you, “Take a sip every time they say a cringe nickname, or someone sucks a dick.”

“A sip or a shot?” you questioned, just as the lead said the nickname “babygirl” for the third time in two minutes.

Yuuji’s brows shot up to touch the ends of his hair that had fallen in his face, looking at you like the TV had answered the question for him.

“I’d rather not have to call an ambulance and go to a hospital, during all of this insanity and in this economy, because we decided to get alcohol poisoning... for fun.”

 “Fair enough,” you nodded, lifting yourself off the couch to go grab yourself an apple ale, and another boring beer for Yuuji.

You weren’t dressed in anything super nice, or intentionally provocative, but you did notice the way Yuuji glanced down your body when you walked back over to the couch and sat down with him. Your thighs were exposed in the short pajama bottoms you’d thrown on fresh from the wash, and you were in a t-shirt you were pretty sure belonged to him, only very very stretched out and too big for him in the first place. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled when you handed him his beer. 

"Cheers,” you said, clanking your bottles together once you pressed play and the movie began again.

Almost immediately, there was another “babygirl” and the drinking game had begun.

“Game on,” you said, taking your first full swig of your drink.

“I’m gonna be a good sport and ignore the fact that I’m a drink ahead of you already,” Yuuji said, his voice still at that deliciously low tone that you could have gotten drunk on alone, “May the best liver win.”

You only make it about two-thirds of the way through the film before you were pretty solidly buzzed. The warmth from the alcohol radiated through your veins, and that warmth had officially found it’s way between your legs.

The movie was awful, god-awful, and both you and Yuuji had consistently been cracking jokes throughout almost the entire runtime, but sex was still sex. The leads of the movie, mainly the woman, were both intimidatingly gorgeous. The film held nothing back when it came to the sex scenes (despite how irritating it was that the guy’s dick was never not in some woman’s mouth), and the two actors looked good together in every erotic scene the director could’ve gotten them to simulate sex in. 

Still, you couldn’t lie... it was turning you on. Especially a certain scene in a very large shower, and despite the horrifically confusing, bland ass plot.

Yuuji’s jokes had died down the more alcohol that entered his system, as did yours, so you were now just sitting together. Two buzzed, single, friendly adults watching two other grown adults simulate sex on a screen for another whole hour. 

“I wonder how they got it to look so realistic when he’s eating her out,” Yuuji commented, taking a sip of beer that finished off his third bottle.

You drank too, now finished with your second. 

“I don’t know but it does look like... really real,” you said, your mind adrift with thoughts that had little to do with the two movie leads.

Yuuji was too hot next to you. You could feel the warmth from his body coming off in little distracting waves. Was he warm to the touch? Did he feel the heat pooling in his stomach, just like you were?

You dared a glance over at the pink-haired man next to you, shocked that he met your gaze. You just sat like that for what felt like forever, staring into each other’s eyes.

“When was the last time someone touched you that way?” he whispered, alluding to what was happening on screen.

You shook your head, trying and failing to remember the last time you’d had time to meet someone, let alone when someone had pleasured you that way.

“That long?” he said, moving his hand from it’s place on the couch onto the exposed skin of your thigh, “Do you want to be touched that way again?”

His eyes were so soft when they looked into yours. His fingers featherlight as he lightly rubbed his thumb against your delicate skin.

You nodded your head, not wanting to use your voice for the fear of sounding too eager, too needy.

You see it coming when he turns his torso, bringing his right arm up to cup your face with his large, impossibly warm hands. Then, without a word, your lips are pressed against his. Hungry and eager and needy, yet still so precise. Despite the alcohol he has running through his veins, he’s still composed. In control and passionate while dictating the pace of the kiss. You let your mouth relax, opening up to welcome his tongue into your mouth while you let your fingers tangled in his pale pink hair. 

He lifts his legs onto the couch, lifting himself up so he’s above you. He reaches down to grab your legs by the back of your knee, pulling them up onto the couch as well. He crowds into your space, forcing you to move your body down until your clothed back is touching the cool leather of your couch. 

You open up for him, letting him slot himself between your spread legs before pulling him back down to kiss you. He nipped at the underside of your chin with his teeth, kissing his way down your neck, and across your collarbones. When Yuuji rubs his body against yours, you don’t miss the feeling of his firm length rubbing against you as he does so.

“Damn, you’re easier than I thought you would be,” you tease, a sly smile gracing your face as he stops his assault of kisses and nips of his teeth against your chin, “Already hard just for me?”

You wrap your legs around his waist, grinding yourself against him to punctuate your point.

“Fucking tease,” he chuckled, sliding his arms beneath your body, “What happened that cute little puppy-dog look you were giving me a second ago? Hm?”

The trainer picked you up in an instant, making you feel like a rag doll with how easily he handled your weight. You let it happen as he settles you on his hips, kissing a hickey onto your neck while he carries you to his bedroom. 

Your body bounces a bit when tosses you onto his bed unceremoniously.

“Take off your clothes,” he instructs, all the playfulness gone from his tone as he walks around the foot of his bed.

You hear the ruffle of foil-lined plastic as Yuuji digs through his dresser drawer, plucking a condom and a bottle of lube from the drawer after he removes his own shirt.

You slowly removed your bra and slid off your pajama shorts while you stared at him, licking your lips at the sight of his firm, toned body. You were still in your panties and covered by your oversized cotton t-shirt when he’s back on top of you again, a scowl on his brow when he looks at your still covered body. 

“Trying to hide the goods or something princess?” he says, pawing at your waist beneath the shirt while he toys with the hem of the fabric, “Don’t tell me my pretty girl is secretly shy after all?”

You softly shook your head no, deciding in the moment to brave any insecurities that might have been looming in the recesses of your mind. Yuuji saw you literally everyday. He knew what you looked like and was obviously interested anyway. Fuck it.

You took off your shirt, exposing your bare breasts and torso to your roommate.

“Fuck,” he said, pushing you back against his pillows, “You’re gorgeous. This is what you’re hiding under your pajamas and work clothes all the time?”

His gaze on your body is intense, like he would lick and devour every part of you if he had the time. He gave himself a moment to drink up the sight before he’s kissing you again, his tongue melting into yours as he licked into your mouth before he moved down.

He took one of your breasts into his mouth, wrapping his index finger and thumb around your other nipple. His free hand roamed the length of your body, caressing all the exposed skin his hands could touch. Eventually he lowered his hand down, running his fingers along the damp wetness of your slick soaked panties.

“Fuck,” he groaned, releasing your tit from his mouth, “You want this so bad, huh?”

You nodded, aching and hot all over from the mounting tension in your body, like a rubberband being stretched to it’s limits before it popped.

“Please?” you moaned, “Please touch me.”

“I am touching you baby,” he said, a cocky grin kissing the corners of his lips, “Do you want more?”

You nodded your head furiously, pulling him into a sloppy kiss while you rutted yourself against his hand.

“I thought only puppies humped but I guess I was wrong,” he teased, applying pressure to your clit through the fabric, “Are you gonna be a good little puppy for me tonight baby?”

You nodded again, a weak, “yes,” spilling from your lips. 

“Tell me exactly what you want. Beg for it like a good little slut.”

You cried out for him to touch you, lick you, do whatever he wanted to do with you as he lowered himself down, kissing closely but not on the spot that you wanted him to.

He took off your panties, throwing them somewhere on the floor of his bedroom.

You noticed him taking the slightest (unintentional, maybe) sniff of your musky scent, before he lowers his mouth to your clit. 

The pleasure is instant when he finally licks a wet stripe up your already soaked folds, latching his mouth onto your clit while alternating between suction and his long tongue.

“Oh,” you moaned, letting your head loll back against the pillows. 

You can’t help but eventually look down again the closer you got to your climax, unable to fathom that your roommate, this unbelievably sexy man that called you a friend, was making you feel this way.

Yuuji looks up at you too, relaxing his mouth for a moment and running his thumb through your folds.

“Stop with that look,” Yuuji said, taking advantage of the opportunity to speak while his fingers toyed with your clit.

“What look?” you moaned, just as his fingers hit the perfect motion on your swollen little bud.

“That look,” he said jutting out his chin to motion to your face, “That look like you want me to fucking break you. So fucking needy while you have the nerve to be so sloppy and wet for me like this.”

He exchanges his fingers for his mouth, going back to meeting your slippery cunt with firm flicks of his tongue, letting his nose swipe across your clit when he fucks you with it.

You didn’t last much longer after that. The pleasure built to a blinding fever pitch, ending in you dripping your juices down the length of Yuuji’s neck. 

You lick the trail of slick up the span of his neck until you reached his lips, grabbing feverishly at his cotton sweatpants, helping him slide the offending fabric off of his body. 

Yuuji’s dick sprang free, hanging hard and heavy between his legs. He wasn’t the longest you’d ever had, though still pretty noticeably big, but god he was easily the thickest. 

“I want you to ruin me,” you moaned, rutting against nothing but the air, begging for friction, “Fuck me like you want me.”

“I do want you,” Yuuji said, sliding on a condom that he’d sat on the edge of the headboard above you, “I’ve wanted you for years, how did you never know that?”

“I,” you whined, the feeling of the stretch almost overwhelming when he entered you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders for stability as he angled his hips, fucking into you like he knew you wouldn’t break, at least not easily.

“Fuck, I wanted you too,” you cried, relaxing as much as you could to allow every inch into you, “I just, ah, I didn’t want to ruin things.” 

He adjusted you both, leaning back so he could look at your face while he fucked into you. Though, you had hid your eyes behind your arms, a choked moan escaping your mouth when his cock nearly hits your cervix.

“Hands down.” he chastises, slowing down his movements but fucking deeper into you, “I want to see you. Fucking... waited so long to make you mine. Waited so long to see you this way, all stretched out on my cock. I wanna see that pretty face when you cum again for me.”

Neither of you last very long after that. The way he angles his hips is heaven and his hand rubbing sinfully tight, fast, circles against your swollen clit feels sinfully sweet like honey. 

“Yuuji, I,” you cry, cumming with his name on your lips.

“Please,” he says, as he does the same, cumming into the latex around his cock with your name on his.

He collapses next to you and you both catch your breath. Both of your bodies are grossly sticky and sweaty and a shower together would be perfect after this, you think. You can tell both of you are swimming in thought about what just happened. The silence in the room was louder than anything either of you could say. But for some reason, when he turns his head to look at you, and there’s something you could mistake for love there... things feel okay. You’re there, together in his bed, in your shared home, and that’s all that matters for now. The semantics of what this all means can wait until the morning.

For now, you accept it when Yuuji carries your spent body into the bathtub of his room, and you let him wash your body, and you don’t question anything when he pulls you back into his bed for the night.

You just let sleep take you, and put everything else in the back of your mind for when the sun shines again. 

tysm for reading! i cross posted on ao3 if you’d like to bookmark it ~~~ xox

[kemakoshume]

𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴 – 𝔪𝔡𝔫𝔦 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ warning: overstimulation, hand on throat for two seconds, safe words used correctly, daddy said once, & slight dacryphilia. fem!reader.

So, we all know Ushijima would be one of those: "Move your hand or I'll make you" types in bed, right?

You're laying on your back, completely fucked out and dripping wet all over the sheets as he brings you to orgasm for the third time that night. Shaking with tears streaming down your face as you buck your hips into the air against his hand, sliding yours underneath his in an attempt to make him stop touching your swollen clit.

“Move your hand,” he said, firmly holding his hand on top of yours. Not pulling it or slapping it away, just... there, as a silent threat.

“No,” you whined, “Can’t take it. No more.”

The tears are coming down harder now, sliding down the sides of your face and wetting the hair around your ears.

“Angel,” he said, sliding up the length of your body to grab your chin, slowly lowering his hand to wrap his dexterous fingers around your throat, “I’m not gonna tell you again. Move your hand, or I’ll make things so much worse for you."

You whined, biting your lip to keep it from quivering violently.

"Safeword?" he questioned softly, releasing the hold on your throat just a little so you could speak freely.

You babbled, sniffling and moaning as the wave of contractions subsided and the feeling of euphoria flooded in.

"Yellow," you cried, knowing you could take maybe one more, but you were nearing your limits, "No choking."

He removed his hand from your throat instantly, running his thumb soothingly along your collarbone.

"You're doing amazing baby girl. Can daddy give you one more? I think you can handle one more."

"Green," you whispered, though you shook your head no and did not move your hand. He liked when you fought. It was your favorite type of scene to do together.

"Angel, please don't make me move your hand. You're crying so pretty already baby, I will make you cry more."

You weakly closed your legs, clamping them down on both of your hands above your sex.

"Do your worst," you groaned, looking him challengingly in the eye.

He nodded, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Okay baby, I have something for that."

He removed his hand, using both to flip you over onto your stomach. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled your ass into the air, exposing you to the chilled air of your bedroom.

"Be a good girl and stay just like that," he commanded, slapping your ass for good measure.

He reached underneath your bed, pulling something from your box of goodies.

"When your throat is raw from screaming in the morning, I want you to remember that you asked for this."

He pulled two pillows from the head of your bed, putting one beneath your dripping wet cunt, and the other underneath your face, letting you relax onto the bed.

He slid something underneath your sex, turning it on and letting the device hum to life. The vibrations on the toy were low, but with how abused your little button was, it felt like it was on high. You couldn't help the loud moan that ripped it's way from your throat, your hands immediately fisting into the sheets to ground you.

"Can you take my cock again baby girl? Be good and cum for me one more time?" he asked moreso out loud to himself than to you, your moans echoing against the walls as he slid into you.

He fucked into you at a bruising pace, the slide easy with how wet you were for him. The toy buzzing against your clit made you see white. All you could do was take it, take every inch and every second that the toy and his cock worked in tandem to coax another orgasm out of you.

He was cumming deep into you as soon as you came all over him, the sheets and pillows beneath you a soaked mess as soon as you were done.

You must have passed out. So many fluids gone from your body in such a short amount of time had been exhausting. Blissful, but exhausting.

You woke up the next morning in a clean t-shirt, one way too big to be yours, amongst clean sheets with a warm body wrapped around yours.

[kemakoshume]

Hey hey! As a HUGE Asahi simp, I was hoping it would be okay for me to make a request? I would love to see Asahi with a female chubby reader who is insecure because she feels like he deserves better. And of course I wouldn't be opposed if you wanted to mix in some smut too! (I personally feel like praise kink and body worship would fit Asahi so well)

No pressure to do this if you don't want to or are too busy! But thank you if you do <3

a/n; okay first of all thank you SO MUCH for the request!! you're my first one :'D pls send in requests anytime for whatever you want. i'm chubby and i, too, am a big ol asahi simp so if i could kiss you for sending this in, i would.

my requests are OPEN! ｡.☆.*｡･ﾟ✫*. here are da rules. tl;dr – 18+ only (if you have no age in bio or your pinned post, i'm not filling your request), no heavy taboos... that's kinda it lol.

warnings; negative body talk, mentions of past ED, a smidge of self-imposed angst. [nsfw] oral (receiving), good ol fluffy body praising smut. fem!reader, CHUBBY!READER! in my mind, reader and asahi are in their mid 20s here.

「show me you love me」 ₍˶ˆ꒳ˆ˶₎✼:♡*ﾟ✿

Growing up as the "fat girl" amongst your peers is never easy. How pretty you are doesn't matter, how smart you are almost adds insult to injury, and everyone refuses to see you past your body. Friends, family, doctors, teachers. No one sees you.

So, as soon as you're able to, you started doing all the trendy workouts, the diets (both good and bad), the treatments. You name it, you tried it. You had dietitians and "weight management" doctors and pills and injections and... yeah. At the end of all that, going into adulthood, all you had to show for it were old needle prick scars, a bruised sense of self-worth, an unhealthy relationship with food, and even less muscle mass than you'd started with.

It was exhausting, and you were tired. So, you stopped. You learned how to eat for sustenance and pleasure. You danced because you felt like it, not because it was cardio. You ate what tasted good and brought you joy, and you spent more time with the people you loved instead of running yourself ragged inside your own head. Then, suddenly... life felt better. Not a constant day-to-day battle with food and your body, but something you had all the power to mold into what you wanted it to be.

Then you met Asahi, and fell in love, and for a long time your past filled with self-loathing and doubt finally felt like it didn't matter. Love had found you, for you, and nothing could steal that joy away.

Until, of course, life tried.

You wished you were strong enough to say it didn't win, at least for a moment.

"Hey honey," Asahi called, coming into your shared kitchen while fastening the last few buttons on his blouse, "I got called in to fit some models for a last-minute shoot and my assistant won't be back from maternity leave ‘til next week. Wanna come?"

You hummed, pondering the offer in your head as you tasted the soup simmering on your stove.

"Let me think. A Sunday filled with free luxury gifts from the modeling agency, free food from the meal carts, and getting to see my gorgeous, talented, amazing boyfriend in action? Yeah, I think I'm down for that. What all do you need me to do?"

He rounded the island of your kitchen, wrapping you from behind in a hug. His long hair was tied up into a high bun that matched your own poof. The sleeves of his button-down were skillfully rolled up to expose his forearms that flexed as he squeezed your soft body tighter, careful to pull you away from the stove instead of closer to it.

“I just need some help wrangling little things. Safety pin for a dress here, clamp for a shirt there, maybe a coffee if the day runs long. Yadda yadda.”

“I think I can handle that,” you said, nodding to yourself, “Soup’s done. Put it in the fridge for me? I’ll go get dressed and we can go.”

“Okay,” he said, leaning in to give you a sweet kiss on your plump, heat-flushed, cheeks.

You made quick work of rummaging through your shared walk-in closet, throwing pieces around until you had something remotely resembling a put-together outfit. You weren’t anything like your boyfriend when it came to meticulously piecing together clothing until you looked runway ready, but you did okay. Years of learning how to dress in a way that accented your rolls, curves, etc. had come in handy.

“Ready honey?” he called up the stairs, the sound of keys jangling in his hands audible even from where you sat at your vanity.

You snapped on your favorite gold tennis bracelet, slid on white tennis shoes to match your cropped leg pants and breezy t-shirt combo, and laid on a long thin cardigan. You smiled when you realized you were wearing something pretty similar to what Asahi had on.

“Ready!”

As soon as you walked into the brightly lit photoshoot studio together, you were instantly bombarded with a flurry of people. In true assistant fashion, you’d tried to hold one of Asahi’s many bags but no, the long-haired brunette wasn’t having it. His tailor kit and satchel hung from his free arm while his other was busy holding your hand. Though, that didn’t last long, since both of you were immediately herded into opposite directions to prep for the shoot.

Asahi had (thankfully, over the years) become a much more organized man with the good sense to add notes on what went where on the itinerary slid into the front of his bag. You sped-read through it, figuring out your to-do list relatively quickly. You flipped through the hanging bags of covered clothing to match each outfit to each model’s name, steamed all the *needs steaming* tagged garments on the appropriate temperature, and made sure all the shoes matched with their assigned outfits all before lunch.

“You’re killing it baby,” Asahi said in passing, kissing you behind the garment racks as he grabbed the next outfit they needed on set.

“Thank you honey,” you said, looking just as proud of yourself as you felt, “This was way more than just grabbing a “pin or two” like you said but I’m glad I could help. It’s fun seeing the looks all come together. You’re really good at this babe.”

Despite how tiring the day had been, getting to see Asahi in his element this way was extremely interesting to watch, since you were only used to seeing the prep beforehand and the result after. Being apart of bringing it all together was invigorating. 

“Sorry,” he said, looking it, “The project director slid the itinerary into the bag and gave you the bag and pulled me away, then by the time I came to take over you were already halfway through steaming the first few dresses, and the models needed to start fitting and-”

“Honey,” you chuckled, shutting him up with a kiss, “One, I was there, I know. Two, don’t worry about it. I would’ve gotten bored just standing around handing you stuff. I’m glad I could help.”

“I’m glad you were here too hun. The best, most gorgeous, assistant around. 

“Asahi!” a manager called out, probably wondering where he’d wandered off to.

“And, that’s your queue,” you laughed, sneaking in one more kiss, “Need anything else before I head home? Wanna cash in that offer for a coffee?”

“Please,” he rolled his eyes, “I’m gonna crash soon if I don’t get one. Should carry me ‘til we’re done with these last few shots.”

“Can do babe. Now, go. I’ll just bring it over.”

With that, he was on his way back over to the hustle and bustle of the shoot. It’d been a busy day, admittedly. Before you knew it over four hours had passed by in a flash, but it had been fun. Busy as hell, but fun. You weren’t surprised he needed a coffee. 

You made your way to the crafts table, grabbing an orange muffin before you set the espresso maker on for his coffee. You picked at it while you watched the shoot progress from afar, seeing girls change from your boyfriend’s clothing back into their robes and vice versa. 

"Oh, hi! You must be Azumane's assistant, right?” a girl said, sliding up next to you at the craft’s table, “I’m Bella. I’m one of the models. Uh, but you literally just watched me walk over here from the set so I think you knew that. Wait, sorry, was that rude? I didn’t mean to make it sound like I’m a huge deal or anything. I just meant I thought you saw me so, you know, of course, the girl taking pictures is a model. Duh.”

Her rambling threw you off a bit. You weren’t expecting the beautiful, long-locked, thin brunette to be the nervous type. Was she even nervous? Maybe it was just her personality to be a chatterbox, who knows?

“Uh, yeah,” you chuckled, “I am his assistant for today. I’m not normall-”

“Ah! Oh, yeah. I heard something about you being out for a new baby,” she interrupted, snapping her finger like she’d discovered something fantastic, “Wow, you're glowing! Postpartum looks good on you. You know, the stomach doming thing will die down in a few weeks."

"Stomach doming?" you squinted, not missing how she’d gestured at your stomach when she said that. 

"Yeah, your stomach," she said, pointing down, again, to the offending flesh as she stuffed a donut down her throat, "My cousin just had a baby a month ago and her's looks exactly the same. She can't breastfeed or anything so the weight is coming off super slow for her too. Don't worry, it's totally normal. Sorry, I didn’t mean to notice that you hadn’t pumped since we got here. I’m just really in tune with stuff like that, yunno? Ugh, it's so crazy what our bodies are able to do. Sucks we can't all snap back like Kim K or Beyonce, or at least afford the surgeries to “snap back,” if you know what I mean. Hm, oh well. You look good despite the weight anyway, you don’t need any of that stuff."

Is this what Asahi liked? Tall bimbos with long wavy hair that had no filter and even less meat on their bones? Why would this be the type that he’d choose to model his clothes? Sure there were a few girls modeling his clothes that were bigger than this model, but still. She was so… pretty. She was eating that donut even though she was that thin and still looked amazing. She was effortless. Asahi was talented, effortlessly. Maybe he deserved someone who looked more like her, who was beautiful without trying. The kind of girl who looked pretty in his clothes without trying.

"Oh, thanks," you muttered, throwing the muffin in your hands into the garbage can next to you while you picked up the coffee, "I'm gonna go wrap up and head home. Thanks for the chat, Bella."

"Of course! Good luck with the new baby and everything. We'll take care of Mr. Asahi while you're gone."

You shuddered, speed walking your way around the set until you found your boyfriend kneeling down underneath a model's dress, clasping pins here and there. A female assistant, presumably the photographer’s assistant, observed for the sake of consent and all that, helping the girl with her bodice clasps.

"Hey babe," you called, not wanting to interrupt but you needed to get out of there. Now.

He came out from the layers of frill around her legs with one last pin in hand, his eyes wide behind his little reading glasses perched on his nose.

"Yup? Did you get the..."

"Yes I did," you said, handing him the coffee you’d almost forgotten in your haste, "Need anything else?"

"Nope, I think we're good here now. All the girls are in their last outfits, everything else is organized, and the photographer's lovely assistant here, Leah, already packed all my other stuff so I'm good to go. Wanna take the car and go home? I'll be right behind you. Leah offered to drive me, she doesn't live too far from us."

You shook your head, yes, trying not to look as dejected as you felt.

"I'll see you at home then?" you said, leaning down to give him one gentle kiss before you left, "Leah, bring him home in one piece please."

The petite, young, objectively gorgeous girl beamed as she flashed her glossy white smile at you. Her hair was shoulder length and dark, an almost blue-black. Her eyes were green like sea glass, and she had a few subtle piercings both in her ears and her nose. She was thin, but curvy, and held weight mainly on her breasts and her hips. The teenage version of you, still there buried deep in the recesses of your mind, would've literally killed someone to look like her. Maybe she was more his type instead. Driven, talented, and objectively gorgeous. It made sense.

"No problem Mrs. A. I'll have him home to you in no time. We should be done soon so yeah, be right behind you."

"Great," you said, finally moving and making your way down the walkway to the parking garage.

The ride home was tense. You had your music up way too high, you were driving just a touch too fast, and the lump in your throat was threatening to make tears form in your eyes.

“She’s another assistant. You trusted his other assistant to bring him home all the time, people drop each other off. It’s not that serious,” you muttered to yourself, finally pulling up to your home.

You were dating a fashion designer. A man surrounded by incredulously thin women and men all the time. You had to be more chill about this. He was a good man, you knew that. He’d never said anything to make you feel like your body was an issue, he’d always said things that alluded the exact opposite, actually. So, why? Why did you feel this way?

You’d made it about halfway through your shower and self-loathing when you heard the alarm door chime ring through your house. 

“Honey! I’m home,” Asahi yelled.

You didn’t bother yelling back, knowing he’d hear the shower running eventually and either know why you didn’t respond, or he’d come to find you.

Eventually, he did, rounding the corner into your bedroom just as you exited the shower. He had a bowl of the soap you’d made cradled in his hands with a potholder underneath.

“There’s my gorgeous girlfriend,” he said, not at all subtly looking your naked body up and down.

You covered up with a large fluffy towel, taking your favorite body oil in hand to pat it into your damp skin.

“Yup, here I am. You made it back faster than I thought you would.”

“Really?” he asked, inhaling a spoonful of soup, “We wrapped fast today, everyone was tired and ready to go home. I’m surprised that you came in and showered before you ate something. I wasn’t moving around half as much as you did and I was starving halfway through the shoot.”

“Oh?” you said, feeling anger beginning to bubble beneath the surface of your skin, “Surprised I couldn’t wait an hour before I stuffed my face?”

He was taken aback by that, setting the soup bowl on top of your dresser next to the door before he came in to wrap you in a back hug.

“Okay. We’ve been together for three and a half years. I know what misdirected animosity sounds like in your voice and that was it. What’s going on?”

You let your head loll back against the sliver of exposed chest peeking out from his shirt.

"It’s just,” you sighed, “One of the models thought I was your actual assistant because I'm so fat. She assumed I was the one who had the baby and kept commenting on my body, and it… it was really humiliating, honestly. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die.”

"Oh baby,” he groaned, pulling you into a real hug from behind, kissing the underside of your neck. 

“And I just, I let myself go on this mental spiral about her and the other models, and I started wondering if you deserve a better-looking girlfriend, one with a nicer body. You work in fashion, you could easily do way better,” you scoffed to yourself, pointedly not looking at yourself or him in the mirror.

His head snapped up to look at you.

“Excuse me,” he said, appalled, “You have the absolute sexiest body I’ve ever seen in my entire life. It’s protected you and carried you through any and everything you’ve been through, how could I not love it? You’re also the most beautiful you've ever been as long as I've known you. I can’t get over how gorgeous you are. I brag about you to literally anyone who’ll listen. Hell, I spent the whole car ride home talking to Leah about her taking some shots of you, in my designs, for her final portfolio. She was so excited about it."

“Really?” you asked, your voice more of a whine than a real question.

He chuckled, kissing your cheeks.

“Yes! She saw the little yellow boho number I made on one of the models and thought you’d kill it in that for a concept shoot. She’s been planning it for months. She just hadn’t found the right muse until I showed her my favorite photos I have of you. Well,” he hesitated, “not my favorite favorites, but my normal favorites.

You chuckled, sinking more into his arms. He was running his hands along the span of your waist, pulling ever so slightly at the towel wrapped securely around you.

"So, looks aside, even though yours are great, I hope you know that you're more than I deserve. You make me so much better and happier than I ever was on my own. I have no idea how I managed to get such an amazing, talented, smart, sexy person to love me."

He had one hand lightly gripping your upper jaw, his fingers playing with the loose curls that’d escaped from your bun and laid beside your ears.

“I want you to look at yourself for me baby,” he said, kissing down the side of your neck.

Your eyes fluttered open to look at your reflections in the mirror. Your chest was red already just from his hands moving exploratorily around your body. His hand that wasn’t on your face was coming up the slit of your towel, reaching the top to undo the knot you’d made to keep it up. It tumbled to the ground, exposing you fully to him. 

“See how pretty you are?” he asked, running his hand along your stomach, lightly running his nails along the delicate skin until he reached your breasts, taking one of your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger to squeeze it gently, “I think you’re so pretty when you’re making this face just for me.”

You looked down from his face in the mirror to yours, taking in the pink flush on your cheeks. You’d bitten your lip, leaving it bite swollen and red as well. 

“I’m pretty?” you asked, a soft moan escaping your lips when Asahi lowered the hand he’d held your jaw with down to your pussy, using his foot to slide your legs apart and force you open.

“So pretty,” he said, running his fingers through your quickly moistening folds.

You let him explore you, tilting your head to the side to give him full access to your throat. He kissed and sucked at the skin, leaving small bites and bruises in his path down to your shoulder. He tugged gently on your hardened nipple, rubbing the swollen nub between his fingers.

To say you wanted him badly would be an understatement.

“Do you wanna move this to the bed?” you sighed, a small moan escaping your lips when his fingers delicately swirled around the surface of your clit.

"Please?" he whimpered in your ear, his voice barely a whisper.

He turned you around in his arms, pulling your naked body flush against his own. He kissed you as he walked you both backward towards your bed, careful not to stumble and send you both toppling down to the ground.

You pawed at his clothing, all but physically ripping apart the fabric of his shirt trying to get it off while he hastily unclasped his belt. Dragging his slacks down the length of his legs until they found their place on your carpeted floor.

“I wanna show you,” he said, breaking apart your kiss to toss you onto your sheets, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He wasted no time lowering himself down to your sex, gently pushing his thumbs down into your arousal slick pussy, spreading the lips apart gently to expose your most intimate parts.

"You're so wet for me," he commented, placing sloppy kisses on your clit, "Always so perfect."

He ran his tongue down your cunt and back up again, spreading the juices seeping from your slit around. You couldn't help the moan that came from your lips when he began flicking the little bud with his tongue.

You held his hair in your hands while he licked your clit, letting yourself melt into the pleasure the man you loved, that loved you back tenfold, was coaxing out of you.

You cried out his name when you came, making it sound more like a prayer than a simple collection of syllables.

He crowded into your space after that, cradling your legs as they were wrapped around his waist. He kissed you while he fucked you that night, licking and caressing every part of your skin that he could reach.

He made love to you like his soul would abandon his body if he didn't physically give you everything he had. So many sweet nothings and praises whispered into your ears as he brought you to orgasm again. No matter how hot you felt, or how tired your bodies were getting, you stayed wrapped up in each other. Not moving even when he came deep inside you with your name spilling from his lips. You just stayed like that for a while, him plugging you to keep you full until you physically couldn't stay that way anymore.

And when he bathed you after that and made you popcorn to munch on in bed while you watched a movie together before you inevitably fell asleep, you knew. This man loved you more than words themselves. No one could disrupt that. You just had to be more firm in your self-confidence, and everything will be okay.

[kemakoshume]

𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴 – 𝔪𝔡𝔫𝔦 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ i’m reading the demon slayer manga atm, and (this isn’t a spoiler-heavy headcanon but beware anyway) i've had this on the brain since yesterday ~

so, in the manga, tengen and giyuu hang out at some point with his wives… AT A HOT SPRING. which iykyk you get naked at hot springs. so, giyuu casually went to hang out with his bro, NAKED, with him and his wives all also being naked. so uh… now i’m having big giyuu as an honorary uzui wife brainrot.

tengen would invite him to the hot springs just to feel him out, intending to gauge his reaction to his wives being just as physically affectionate with him as they already were emotionally. 

the wives would take turns washing giyuu’s body and washing each other, and tengen would be so delighted when he catches giyuu staring, not just at his wives and their interactions, but at tengen’s body and how he looks as well—so strong, so massive, yet pretty all at the same time. that would eventually lead to tengen inviting giyuu into their bedroom to watch. at first, giyuu would come into it thinking he would just be a spectator—only there to watch tengen demonstrate how to “take care” of three women at once. But after the first time, he would no longer be able look at it from such a detached perspective, and would start to process how each of the women—women he had begun to call friends—liked to be fucked; how each of their personalities shined through in the way that they moaned and the things that they liked in bed, and also what kind of tricks they would do to tengen that made the man so weak for them.

 now, tengen’s a smart guy; he notices the way giyuu’s eyes wander and what they tend to fixate on the longest while the younger man watches them make love, so he would up the stakes, and invite giyuu into their marriage bed to participate. tengen would ask him to put on a good show and show him how much he had learned—all while sitting off in a chair beside his bed to watch giyuu “practice” with two of his wives, while keeping one wife to himself—on her knees in front of him while giyuu and the other two play. but at some point during the sex, giyuu would say tengen’s name as he fucked into one of the two wives, while the other sat beside them kissing and sucking all their exposed skin. tengen got off on watching, but hearing giyuu call out for him, wanting him to play as well, would turn the night into a big mishmash of bodies, all showing their newfound love for each other physically until the morning sun shines through their windows.

lmao so yeah... that was that. i strongly headcanon that both tengen and giyuu have voyeur fetishes and love taking turns watching but they grow to really like playing together as well with the wives || @kentimestwo @rosesandtoshi thank you for listening to my tengen's wives brainrot in the discord lmao || taglist request || ~

[kemakoshume]

every time we touch (bokuto x chubby fem!reader as god-siblings) ˖⁺ ☁⋆ ୭ 🕊.⋆｡ [𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 🔞]

warnings: god-sibling/stepcest cw. it’s definitely written more like god-siblings than step-siblings, meaning your parents (moms) are besties and raised you like siblings [where i’m from being a godparent means that if anything happened to your parents and your family couldn’t take you, the godparents adopt you, basically]. corruption kink, a little dub-con just bc reader is inexperienced & bokuto is older (idc how you old you are he's ~3 years older than you lol), oral (both ways), first time, virgin!reader, fem!reader. everyone's of age.

a/n; so uh… here’s this. this has been on my mind for like a day and a half and i realized i have way too much fluff on my page for my liking lmao. if dc isn’t your thing but you still want to follow me for my other content then pls block the first [kk.] hashtag, i totally understand. if you choose to read anyway after reading the warnings, don’t come complaining in my ask box because i will be an asshole back at you. fair warning. welcome to dark content from me (´• ω •`) ♡ hope you enjoy!

The first time he touched you, you panicked.

It was a kiss. During a moment of calm, after he'd hugged you goodbye and held you in his arms, it happened. He lowered his lips down to yours in one brisk movement and for a moment, you let him. You let your lips relax, and his tongue slide against yours, before you processed what was happening and pulled away. This was… wrong. He was your brother. And at that moment, as if the universe wanted to rail home that point to you, your parents came bounding into the room, excitedly saying their own goodbyes and scooping each of you into hugs of their own. You got into the car and went home with your mother without saying another word.

Things had been strange after that.

Your brain refused to shut up for weeks. Rationalizing, questioning, fantasizing. Sure, you weren’t raised together but you’d known each other since birth. You’d spent your entire childhoods introducing each other as "siblings" to your friends and being treated as such by your families. So, why did he want to touch you the way boyfriends should? You were younger, mature but still a bit awkward, and you had plenty to learn. You were just beginning to blossom and fill out your body, finally coming into your own. Albeit later than most people, starting that journey of maturity and self-discovery in college instead of high school like your peers, but still.

He was attractive, you've always known that even if you would never have admitted it. He'd always been tall and muscular since he'd began working out and playing sports back in his school days, but now, as an adult, he'd grown into a man no woman could reasonably resist. He was funny and sweet and loved to love other people. Still, him liking you in any way that was more than familial felt off. Even if you weren't chosen family, you weren't the kind of girl a guy like him would go for. He was the star athlete type, you were an academic. He had a six-pack, and you were... round. So, you panicked, and you left, and you overthought it.

Until he touched you the second time.

You'd never texted very much, and that hadn't changed since the kiss. He was an athlete on a D1 team, while you had plenty of schoolwork and club events going to keep yourself busy as well. He had his own life and you, yours. So, you chose not to think about it. Moving on and living your life day-to-day, pushing the kiss that should've never happened out of your mind. You barely saw each other anyway, so it didn't matter. You might as well have imagined it.

*ding*

bkt: hey baby sis :D mom said you can come with us to my last game of the season if you wanna. it's a far drive but everyone's coming. we'll come get you and take you home on the ride back. say yes :) i miss your cute lil face

Okay, you could do that. Maybe he'd forgotten about the kiss? Maybe he'd found himself a new cheerleader girlfriend or dance team captain FWB or something and moved on from it. Going to support him would be good, you could get back to normal.

bkt: if you come, it'll be cold. bring gloves. and chapstick. i'll try to keep you warm the best that i can

Ah, nope. Of course he hadn't. You might not have had the most experience in the world, but you heard the suggestive tone even through text.

Apparently your parents had spoken about it already and your mom had said yes on your behalf. The weeks left before the game winded down quickly, and the weekend had arrived before you knew it.

Seeing him for the first time in the better part of a year was... electric. He'd gotten even bigger somehow, filling out the larger-sized uniform he'd grown into. His hair was in a more relaxed style though it was still the same beautiful black and white shade. His cheeks were kissed red from the cold of the oncoming winter season, and his huge smile extended up to his eyes as soon as he saw you.

"[y/n]!" he yelled, running off of the field to where you stood on the sidelines at the end of the game, a smile plastered on your face too after his team's game-winning goal.

He scooped you up into a hug, innocent enough to the onlookers around you but different for you. He squeezed you tighter around your waist with his large hands, the small movement seemingly nothing to anyone else but it meant plenty to you. He'd done the same before he kissed you.

Your families were oblivious, taking photos and laughing about how cute the two of you were. He found you cute alright, but in a way that would give your parents a heart attack if they knew.

The ride home from his game had been as long as he'd said it would be. You'd clambered for the farthest seats in the back of the truck you traveled in, cozying up to each other for warmth. Your god-mom threw the two of you a blanket and cranked on the heat, turning away to look at the road, listening to music in the front with your god-father.

It didn't take long before he was running his fingers along the length of your plush tummy. Squeezing you gently and rearranging your clothes. The second time he touched you, he rubbed your clit under the blankets while you both pretended to sleep. It just… it felt right that time. The energy was good after the game, the tension was palpable in air around you as he’d looked at you in your cute little dress and stockings, and you felt so hot with need. You wanted him, to be touched by him so badly, much more than you’d ever admit out loud.

He was so much more experienced. His touch was practiced and precise against your little button and between your folds. The little whispers in your ear about how beautiful you were and how sexy you were every time he saw you made you desperate. Desperate and delirious with need for him. You came so hard, bitting onto your bottom lip so fiercely that you feared it would bleed. In true Bokuto fashion, he (obnoxiously) faked sneezed to cover your whimpers, just in case the radio shielding your sounds wasn't loud enough. You giggled as you came down from your high, relaxing into his arms.

He cooed in your ear softly about how good you were and how pretty you looked cumming all over his fingers.

You went home that night trying not to let the wobbliness in your legs show, silently hoping you'd see him again sooner rather than later. Shame swirled in your gut amongst the butterflies that came when you thought about his hands for too long. He had so many things to teach you, so many ways to make you feel good. Titles be damned, you wanted him. You knew he wanted you too. How bad could something that felt so good be?

The third time did come sooner than the last, and you were grateful. Excited, even. Your mother invited him to stay for the weekend even though she worked, and you took advantage of every moment.

"Has anyone ever gone down on you before baby girl?" he asked one night, hovering above you on the couch while some movie illuminated the dark living room you were sat in, "I wanna make you feel good. Need you to know that I was the first one to make you feel good like this."

And you let him.

You let him be your first for a lot of things over the course of those nights. The first to suck your clit until you came, swears dancing on your tongue around his name. The first to enter your mouth, letting him use it until he was cumming all over your face for the first time since you didn't know how to swallow, yet. The first to fuck you open and soothe you through the ache of his cock filling you up. He was gentle, and kind, like always. Making sure his baby sister was nice and fucked out, having the best possible first time. You'd never forget how he'd cried into your neck, so drugged on bliss at how wet and tight your pussy was for him. How you cried for your big brother to make you feel good, to use you however he wanted.

The moments you could steal together from then on were always fun. All of your stolen kisses felt sweet. The way he'd grab your ass, or pull down your shirt just for a second so he could suck on one of your tout nipples, or run his hand through your folds underneath your dresses when you'd come over without panties on. It was all you could ask for and more. The secret was sexy. He was sexy, and you'd always treasure him and thank god for making him your brother.

[kemakoshume]

Show Me What I'm Missing (Tell Me That I'm Yours) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ college professor nanami x black student reader

[warnings]: professor x student, fem/afab!reader, mentions of toxic (not abusive) relationship, (kinda) dom!nanami, semi-subby!reader, sir used but not often, daddy is said twice in one sentence, cheating, brief light asphyxiation ~

a/n; this has been on my mind for like... three days. it was supposed to be a drabble but uh... here's 7250 words lmao. i'm currently trying to clear out my drafts and of course... this popped into my brain and got added to the pile. i'll be rolling out my other works over the next few days! i'm excited to flesh out my writing tag, finally. enjoy the mess that this is. i actually loathe having to say [y/n] so i avoid it at all costs normally but this story needed it. don't get used it though lmao. also, idc if you're not black and reader insert in this story, it was just written with a black oc in mind.

main song i listened to while writing: here ･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ crossposted on ao3 here if you want to bookmark it.

Imagine college math professor Nanami getting so irritated at you for letting your grades slip in his class. He'd keep it cool, he wouldn't draw any attention to it when he reviewed exam averages during class and you pointedly shrunk in your seat. He wouldn't say anything when you avoided eye contact as you brought down your work at the end of class.

He just observed, noticing your lack of attention increasing the more your grades tanked. You were a student he'd always liked, more than most of the rest of them, so he had a duty to help you, privately. He cared about you, so what kind of professor would he be if he didn’t get you back on the right track?

Things started in the most seemingly innocuous way. One afternoon, he’d asked you — discreetly — to stay at his desk at the end of his lecture. None of your classmates bated an eye, since you’d done that plenty of times throughout your time in his course. He was the sponsor — supervisor — for the collegiate math club you were apart of, he was known to be helpful despite his seemingly stoic nature, and in his eight years as a professor at your university, there had never been so much as a whisper about him being involved with… well, anyone — but especially not with a student.

He waited until most of your classmates had filtered out of the room before he acknowledged you, rummaging through stacks of recently turned in homework to busy his hands. "So," he said, not making any effort at eye contact with you, "do you have any intention of passing my class? Your level of effort, or lack thereof lately, and obvious lack of attention during our lectures is starting to reflect in your scores."

You're taken aback, of course, not because it was unexpected or untrue, but because Professor Nanami had said it to you. He'd always been a generally relaxed guy. Dry at times, sure, but not mean. Blunt was a better word for it, but even then, he'd never directed that energy towards you. It might have been petty, childish even, but you weren't meek. He may have been your professor but you were also an adult. He didn't have to speak to you that way — in that condescending tone that he used on the rest of your classmates.

"I mean, I was planning on it. Did you have alternative plans or something?" you replied, raising your eyebrows and crossing your arms in what instantly translated as a challenge.

He sighed, tidying the last section of loose papers into a clip, looking directly into your eyes from where he sat behind his desk. To say you weren't intimidated would be the second most blatant lie you've ever told. Even sitting down the older man had a very dominant presence to him. He was dressed well in a button-down with a tie (sans jacket since it was still summer and sinfully hot outside), and slacks that fit his body in the best possible way. His shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, and slim waistline, even seated. His slacks rode up just a little bit in that way where you could see the shape of his hips and his ass even when they weren't visible. His legs were strong and long and made him stand a noticeable amount taller than you.

So, the first big lie was that you didn’t find your professor attractive.

"That would've been funny if I weren't serious,” he said, not a hint of a smile on his face. “Your grades are slipping. I know this is a senior-level course and you're only a sophomore, but you can handle this. I know you can. I knew you'd excel in this class, actually, which is why I signed off on letting you take it."

You sighed, instantly remembering that you were in the running to replace his current TA, Nobara, for her position after you completed the course. He had a lot of faith in you, and you were squandering it. Your priorities were all out of wack. “I know,” you whispered, bowing your head in submission.

"So, what's going on then? Do you have too much on your plate? Do we need to have a talk about managing our schedule better? Is it something we need to talk to the disability office or mental healthcare center about?" he paused, searching your face for an answer. "How can I help you be successful?"

You melted a bit at that, dropping your arms and hooking your thumbs into the belt loops on your jeans. "I," you stuttered, "I don't really know, honestly. It's nothing that serious though. I’m just going through some personal stuff I suppose. I didn't realize it was distracting me this much."

He hummed, putting his hand on his chin to run his index finger along his prominent jawline. "Well, how about this. Come to my office hours tomorrow after my last lecture. We can at least go through your last two exams and see what you're not getting. This is the foundational stuff. You need to know it or you're not going to understand anything else for the rest of this class."

You nodded, understanding his point immediately. As good as you were at math, you knew it was as good as impossible to solve anything without the correct building blocks to put the problems together. You had to get it together. "Okay. After your last lecture?" you questioned, realizing that was well after 7:00 pm. "Should I bring wine or something for this late-night rendezvous?"

He chuckled, raising himself out of his desk chair to gather up his briefcase so he could leave when you did. Everyone else, including his TA, was long gone at that point. "Oh please," he said, rolling his eyes, "no thanks. What are you? Nineteen? Twenty? You wouldn't know what good wine is if it punched you in the face."

"Hey," you whined, "I'll have you know my uncle makes his own wine out in California so I probably know more about wine than you do actually."

"Good to know," he said, obviously very amused by you. "No wine, just bring your bag, paper, and a highlighter. If you'd rather come to my daytime office hours I'm not free until the week after next, and your next exam is in five days so nighttime office hours seem to be your best bet. However, I understand if that's uncomfortable. I can see if Nobara is free in her hours if you would prefer to see her instead."

There was something about the way his chocolate brown eyes looked at you, like he wanted you to be comfortable coming to him — late at night — desperate for help. It was subtle enough that no one else would've caught it, but you could read him just as well as Nobara presumably could. Since you saw him relatively often for club activities, you'd had plenty of moments to study the man. You slowly but surely learned how to read his face, how to decipher the tone of his voice, and you're sure he had done the same with you, though you wore your emotions more brazenly on your sleeve compared to the professor.

"No, that's okay. Thank you for making sure I'm okay with swinging by so late. It should be fine. I get out of class at 6:30, so I can come straight over to the math office building afterward."

"Okay," he said, now fully packed and ready to go, presumably to the little bakery/deli place you knew he frequented often for lunch. "I'll see you then. If I'm not there to buzz you in, the code is 001031. Might want to write it down because there won't be another professor on my floor to let you in."

"Got it," you said, having already taken out a marker to scribble the number on your skin. "See you tomorrow then?"

"Yup," he nodded, waving you off when you walked out the door in front of him.

Unbeknownst to you, he'd slid on his signature sunglasses as he exited after you, mainly so he could stare at your curves in peace as he trailed behind you down the hallway.

Until tomorrow.

"Babe, what do you mean you're studying tonight? It's a Thursday night! That's basically Friday for college kids."

"I know," you sighed down the phone, already annoyed with having to explain this again to your boyfriend, "I'm just falling behind in a class that should've been easy for me so yeah, I need to study. We can hang out tomorrow night, maybe? Aren't you off of work then?"

He groaned, actually falling back against his bed in a little fit of a temper tantrum. For a twenty- five year old you'd have thought he would be the more relaxed partner out of the two of you, but no. You’d somehow managed to find the one man in the entirety of your city that still whined like a baby when he heard the word, "no."

"I work tomorrow baby, but only until 6:00! Still, honey bun, I miss you now. Don't you miss me?" he said, his voice laced with honey.

You sighed, steadying yourself as you continued your trek to the math office building. "Babe, of course, I miss you, but I miss passing my classes even more. I can't disappoint this professor! He went out of his way to sign me up for his course even though I'm not supposed to be in it yet. I don't want him to regret doing that."

He groaned even louder. "Fine," he huffed, "but I want you in my apartment — butt naked — dinner ordered already when I come home tomorrow. We haven't seen each other all week! That's way too long. We’ve gotta make up for lost time babygirl."

You chuckled — for some reason imaging yourself naked, laid amongst a bunch of takeout pizza boxes like a nyotaimori girl. "Okay, fine. I'll come over for a little bit. You owe me a massage, and you better buy some good beers. The ones I like that taste like funky apple juice, not that Heineken bullshit."

"Can do baby," he said, making a kissing sound down the phone line. "I love you. Have fun being a nerd or whatever."

"Yeah, yeah, you knew who I was when you met me," you giggled, bidding him goodbye as you walked up to the large office building. It was only 6:47 so you had, presumably, managed to beat your professor to his office.

The ride up the elevator to his floor was swift, thankfully, due to the new upgrades made to all the STEM buildings on your campus. Even the professors managed to snag some shiny new things. Professor Nanami's office was a perfect example. The new keypad on his office door was touchpad accessed instead of the old key lock that jammed every fourth out of five tries. You were able to input the code he'd given you easily and the sound of the door unlocking rang through the still air of the empty floor.

You had definitely beaten him there, you noted, noticing instantly that the large office was vacant. You flipped on the light switch and looked around, not intentionally snooping, but you were excited to see how the man filled his space regardless.

The first thing you noticed was the large floor mirror propped against the far wall of the room, pretty rose details carved into the wood frame. You took in the sight of yourself — your hair as cute as it could be post wash-n-go, since you'd had time to thoroughly detangle and finger curl your locks that morning. You hadn't needed to rush back to campus from your partner's off-campus home, which saved you a noticeable amount of time. You'd put on a cute outfit, deciding that morning that you had to dress nicely to complement your hair. You wore a white undershirt, a checkered red and blue plaid dress, and white sneakers. You had small gold hoop earrings dangling from your earlobes, and a dainty thin gold necklace draped from your neck. Nothing fancy, but it did its job.

Turning away from the mirror, you noticed a writing desk facing the wall. Little fairy lights were hung along the top and pictures were hung along the back. You got close enough to see Nobara in various poses with her friends, one with a cute boy with pink hair along with one dark-haired boy that actually really favored your boyfriend and another one with a girl that looked to be more than just her friend — if the matching rings and the bisexual flag in the background meant anything.

Her desk space was the only corner of the room fully decorated and homey. The rest of the room was very minimalistic besides the mirror. Everything had its own place to go so nothing looked scattered or out-of-order.

You walked over to his desk, sitting down your backpack on the student desk adjacent to his large mahogany one, pulling out all your note-taking stuff because, why not? You scanned the surface of his desk as you did so, not missing the fact that his desk was vacant of any family photos. The only thing on it was a photo of him and a group of his male friends all dressed up in suits, a mini version of his diploma, and an encased medal for something hunting-related.

The slow creak of the heavy office door opening made you jump out of your skin, expected but at the same time, it wasn't. Maybe if you were paying attention you would've heard him walking down the tiled hallway.

"Oh, hi. Guess you did beat me here. I thought I saw the light on from the hallway."

"Yeah, sorry. Should I have waited on the hall bench or..."

"No, no," he shook his head. "I gave you the keycode for a reason.

You nodded, taking your seat at the student desk as your professor made his way to his desk, pulling out this and that until he was situated and organized. "So, here's your last two exams, marked up with explanations. Here's a study guide for this unit's information that Nobara made. Don't show your classmates, they won't get it until after this exam as a review sort of thing. Also, here," he said, handing you a fidget toy that clicked and spun without making noise. "If you feel antsy during class and can't focus, try this. I've had some students say it helps hone in your brain or something."

You stared blankly at the small pile of stuff on your desk. "You got all this in between your classes today?"

"Yup," he said plainly, "But, I'm not giving it to you until we have a chat." He slid the papers back onto his desk and out of the way, interlocking his fingers as he leaned against the desk. "I have to ask. What's actually been distracting you so much in class? You seem a little distracted right now, even. What gives? None of this stuff is going to help if we don't actually address the issue."

"Well," you stuttered, "it's, uh, nothing specific really." You pointedly ignored the incessant buzzing in your back pocket, already knowing it was your boyfriend asking how the tutoring was going, when you'd be done, if you missed his cock yet. Blah blah blah. He was older and lived off-campus, so he knew your phone was the only way to really keep in constant contact the way he wanted. It wasn't that bad, it was kind of sweet that he wanted you so badly all the time. But right now, it was really irritating. Your professor noticed, cocking an eyebrow as he waited for you to answer out loud.

"It's just," you hesitated, "stupid boy stuff. My boyfriend wants to be up under me 24/7 and it's just been a little hard balancing school and keeping him happy. I do still tell him I have to study and everything though so it's not always him or anything."

"Interesting," he hummed. "You do know a relationship that disrupts your life instead of adding some form of peace to it isn't a happy or healthy one, right? I'm not saying this young man is a bad person or anything, but it's not selfish to prioritize your own growth. You're young. Build yourself up before building a relationship. Just food for thought on that."

You blinked at him, starting to loop what he said on repeat in your mind.

"You don't know anything about our relationship, respectfully. You're right, he isn't a bad guy, just a little needy. There’s nothing wrong with that, and at the end of the day I'm the one deciding to spend my time with him so it's not his fault that my grades have slipped. I'll do better sir."

He scoffed, folding his arms across his broad chest as he relaxed back into his seat. "Wow, throwing away your studies for a boy who's probably never even made you cum before. I thought you were a lot smarter than that."

You couldn't hide the shock on your face at that. "Hey," you stuttered, "he hasn't, you don't — he has made me cum before, thank you very much! And, I'm not throwing away my studies for him either I'm just... trying to find a good balance. That's all."

"Sure," he hummed, raising his eyebrows in a way you knew meant 'yeah right’.' "Touching yourself while he fucks you doesn't count, by the way."

You racked your brain, pissed that no occasion had come up in your brain where your boyfriend has done all the work. You can't stand the smirk that creeps onto your professor's face when he notices the wheels in your brain are still turning.

"Wow, I was just messing with you. Has he really never made you cum before? Eaten you out until you were genuinely screaming his name, not just faking it so he'd get on with it? Really?"

You shrunk a little in your seat, burying your face in your hands as you nodded your head.

"Wow," he gasped, actually trying to hold back a chuckle. "Honey, I know his type. He may say pretty words often enough to distract you from how much you actually detest him as a person, but trust me, there's way better for you out there. Someone who wouldn't let you piss away your standing as one of the best students in this department to watch him play video games all night, and lick around your clit for so long that you have to fuck yourself while he sleeps. If you're gonna screw your grades because of some guy, at least let it be one that makes you feel good, at the bare minimum."

You couldn't help the rush of anger and embarrassment that bubbled up in your chest. He didn't know your boyfriend, he didn't know how you felt or what you wanted. "What would you know about that anyway, huh?" you asked, venom in your tone. "I don't see any engagement photos or a ring on your finger Mr. "I Think I Know You Better Than You Do." I know you don't have kids because of ‘bring your kid to work day’ last semester. So, what do you know about lasting relationships and keeping a woman happy?"

He sat up in his chair at that, his eyes even darker somehow than the beautiful brown you'd grown used to. They looked almost black. "Watch your tone or I'll have to show you exactly how I keep women around, and you couldn't handle that sweetheart. You're still fucking little boys who don't wash their hands after rummaging through cheeto bags before they finger you. I'd break you."

The threatening tone to his voice sounded so genuine, you knew he wasn't joking. The realization of that made heat start to pool in your belly. You felt your clit throb, stirring up the thrumming of anticipated pleasure in your cunt. You felt yourself becoming slick with arousal already just from his words. What he said was true and you knew it.

"That's not true,” you fibbed. “I'm a strong girl, you'd have to try pretty hard to make me break, sir."

His eyes darkened even more at the nickname, his legs spreading a little further as he was no doubt starting to feel the effects of your conversation just like you were. Still, though, he was as calm and collected as ever. His eyes were trained on you like a hawk, reading every flicker of emotion crossing your face.

"You know I can see you clenching your thighs together, right? Your pupils are huge, and your nipples are hard as a rock even though it's not cold in here. I swear I can smell how turned on you are right now. Are you wearing panties under that sexy little dress you've got on?"

You froze. You'd totally forgotten that you weren't. Your boyfriend wanted nudes after you told him you couldn't hang out tonight, so you'd gone to your economics hallway bathroom and taken some photos. You were already braless so that part was easy, but taking photos angled from the bottom always looked better pantiless. The problem was, you'd forgotten to put them back on in your rush to make it to your office hour with Nanami on time. Fuck, why were you trying so hard to prove yourself worthy of staying in his class?

"I'll take that as a no?" he said, standing from his seat at his desk. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his dress shirt, taking both ends and rolling them up to expose his forearms. "Hop up here for me," he said, tapping the surface of his work desk.

You sat on the desk, shimmying your butt until you were comfortably up there without flashing yourself at your professor. He lifted you a little by your waist to help you, slotting himself between your thighs as soon as you were settled. He slid his hands behind your ears, cupping your face and forcing you to look up at him. "Do you want me to show you how a man should be pleasuring you? How good you can actually feel if you're open to meeting better men for you?"

You were so lost in his eyes. His pupils were blown wide open and you felt like little more than prey succumbing to being hunted. His knee was slotted between your legs and it took everything in you not to grind against him, like an untrained little puppy that’d just learned what hormones make you crave. "Yes, please."

"Please, what?"

"Please sir. Please show me what I'm missing."

He smirked again, that devilish little smile on the corner of his lips that made a rush of heat flow through your body. He lowered his head and you tilted up your chin, meeting his lips in a deep kiss. You melted at the feeling of his tongue gently pushing into your mouth, not overpowering your own tongue but moving with it instead.

"Damn, that needy already? You have to grind on my thigh to get off?"

You stopped moving your hips, not even noticing what you'd subconsciously been doing. You just wanted more pleasure. You wanted him to touch you. "Please, sir, I need more."

"You need more? We're just kissing and you already need more?"

You whined, nodding your head up and down instead of talking. If you used your voice you were sure you'd say something desperately, disgustingly, horny.

"Pull up that skirt for me babe," he instructed, lightly smacking your thigh beneath the end of your dress.

You jumped a little, pulling up the dress until it was bunched up above your waist. You could already feel how wet you were, but seeing the way your pussy glistened underneath the relatively dim light of his office lamp made you want to hide.

"Fuck," he groaned, taking in the sight and slightly musky aroma of your arousal. "Now I'm convinced your boyfriends have all been inept. You're so fucking easy. So wet and desperate already and I've barely even touched you yet."

"Shut up," you giggled. "They weren't inept, you just really fucking turn me on. Show me why I'm supposed to think you're better than them."

He took that personally. He grabbed you by the back of your knees, sliding your body closer to the edge of the desk. "Off," he said, sliding the spaghetti straps of your dress down your arms, grabbing and pulling off the cropped t-shirt you had on underneath.

Your breasts dropped beautifully as they fell out of your clothes, bouncing a bit as they settled.

"God you're gorgeous," he said, taking your left nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, pinching it just enough to make your stomach clench. "Don't know how the hell I haven’t broken yet seeing you in club and in my class now too.”

You couldn't help the moan that ripped it's way from your throat once he crouched a bit, putting his mouth around your other nipple. You had always been really sensitive there. Not all of your partners knew how to give you just enough stimulation to feel good but not so much that it was uncomfortable. Nanami found a perfect balance of both.

The AC actually had kicked on at some point, making the room just cold enough to send a chill through your bones. Your nipples were cold like every other part of the surface of your skin, so the warmth along with the wetness from his mouth was driving you insane. "I swear to god I could cum just like this if we had the time," you moaned, your eyes rolling back in your head.

His eyes flicked up to your face, seeing how blissful and fucked out you looked already just from his mouth on your breasts. He pulled away just long enough to pull you into a sloppy kiss, taking a moment to drink you in. "This is all about making you feel good baby," he said, kissing and sucking — lightly, to not leave marks — on your neck, "If you want to sit here for hours and see how many times you can cum this way, I'm all for it. No one will be back in this building until 11:00 am tomorrow. I can't imagine the mahogany would be comfortable to lay on for that long though."

You sighed, he was right. "I guess I'll just have to invite myself over to your place for an overnight study session sometime then. Why don't you show me how good you eat pussy in the meantime, hm? You talked a lot of shit about all the men I've been with before."

"I did, and I meant it."

He laid you flat on your back in one smooth motion, pulling up a rogue chair with his foot right after. He pushed your legs up to your chest, having you grab them by the back of your knees. He was sat in front of your spread legs as if he was going to feast on a Michelin star meal. "I need you to use your words for me if I do something you don't like. If you do like it, don't be afraid to make noise. My office is soundproofed from all the brick. Understand?"

He was running the knuckle of his finger through your folds, spreading the lips gently to get a good look at you. You were leaking onto the table from how turned on you were, you swollen little nub peaking from its hood on full display. "Yes," you said, your voice quivering.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes sir," you said with no hesitation, desperate for him to finally touch you.

He blew a small puff of air from his mouth onto your clit, making the little bud contract a little and engorge even more when he stopped. He had one arm laid across the backs of your thighs, holding your legs down into a mating press. His free hand was rubbing against your entrance, creating more and more slick until he pressed in with his middle and ring finger. You were no virgin, you could take it and he knew that.

"Your hands are so big," you commented, instantly feeling the difference between his hands and the men you'd been with before. His were large and rough but in a good way. Taken care of and manicured, but hands of a man who'd done work in his life. A mature older man that knew exactly how to extract every morsel of pleasure he could from your body. His touch was practiced. He pumped those two fingers inside of you until he found what he needed. He was so rough yet so gentle at the same time it was driving you mad.

No one had ever touched you like that before. He was doing something different with his fingers, something no boyfriend you'd ever slept with had done the right way. He found that little patch of nerves inside your cunt, sort of massaging it more than pushing on it. It felt like he was licking you from the inside with the way his fingers worked inside your slick walls.

"There! That's so good."

"That feels good princess? Do you want more?"

You shook your head furiously, a weak "uh-huh" leaving your lips as well.

The sensation of just his fingers was already a lot, but it was even more heightened when he lowered his head down to lick you. Going up from just above where his fingers were fucking into you slowly, all the way up to your swollen clit.

"Holy fuck," you gasped, feeling pleasure shoot up your spine as he took the little button into his mouth, sucking on it gently as the tip of his tongue fluttered back and forth over it.

What was that? Why the hell had no one you'd ever slept with before done that?

He hummed a bit while he suckled your clit, the slight feeling of vibration being the beginning of the end. "Jesus fucking christ, daddy. Daddy, I need more, harder suck harder. I'm gonna cum for you so quick I can already feel it. Fuck, that feels so good."

Were you really about to be that girl who fell apart as soon as you met a man who touched you the right way? Yeah, yeah you were. "Oh, professor, please. I can't take it if you keep doing that. I'm gonna cum. Please tell me I can cum."

He didn't need to say anything in response to that, he just increased the pressure on his fingers and sucked harder on your clit.

Seeing stars would've been an understatement.

You might've squirted. Everything was too much all at once, you couldn't actually tell, but you knew you were cumming. You'd never cum so hard in your entire life. Colors danced behind your eyelids, your ears felt clogged from the pressure, and you were grinding yourself up against his tongue so passionately you were basically riding his face. He took it in stride, milking your g-spot for all it could give him, still sucking your clit through your orgasm.

"Ah, too much," you felt yourself whine as your orgasm dissipated.

He pulled away, placing one last delicate kiss on your clit. "So?" he said, an all too cocky look on his face.

"So," you sighed, propping yourself up on your elbows, "I literally can't hear out of my right ear right now. It feels like someone stuffed cotton balls in there. What the fuck did you do to me?"

He chuckled, tickled pink apparently that you had cum so hard you were losing one of your five major senses. "You're okay baby, it'll die down. It's just because your blood pressure dropped."

He stood from his seat, pulling you into a kiss. You deepened it, feeling his erection pressing into the meat of your thigh. "Wanna see if I can make you see stars the same way?" you said, your eyes looking up at his in the most sinful way.

"If you're actually in pain, we don't have to. We can always pick this up another time."

"No way," you said, undoing the fastenings on his slacks, "I want you to fuck me, please? I promise I can take dick really well. You'll be dying to fuck me any chance you get from now on. I need to know how you feel inside me."

You pulled his cock out from his pants with no contest from the professor, his length easily being the most girthy thing you'd ever held.

"Wow."

He chuckled, a little too amused at the shocked expression on your face.

"Sure you can take it all baby girl?"

"I can try," you said, eyeing his length, pumping it to full hardness in your hand. "I'm so wet for you, I think we can get it in. I know you're dying to see how this pussy feels."

It was a big dick, you weren't trying to kid yourself. He had girth on his side more than length, but he was not small by any means. He could absolutely kiss your cervix with a little effort if he wanted to. It was pretty, also. Pale and pink with emphasized veins on the side, the dusty-pink head covered with a small bead of pre-cum.

He reached around you to open a drawer of the desk, pulling out a little latex condom wrapped in plastic packaging.

You watched Nanami slowly open then roll the condom onto his stiff cock, your thighs squeezing together at the sight of it. He groaned at the feeling. “You sure? Wouldn't want you to regret anything once you're back with the lackluster little man child.”

Nanami fisted himself a few times, shuddering as he did, careful to support your waist with his arm as he rubbed his cock against your entrance.

"Professor?" you cooed, biting your lip as you felt him rubbing himself against your aching clit. "Shut up and fuck me."

He chuckled, always amused by you being brash back at his little quips.

"Spread yourself open for me baby," he instructed, looking down at your dripping wet cunt.

You did as you were told, spreading yourself open to allow the larger-than-average man into your velvety walls. You both let out deep groans at the new sensation. He knew you were turned on enough not to be painfully tight, but the way your sloppy wet cunt sucked him in, squeezing him in place was enough to steal the breath from his lungs. You felt so disastrously full. Your brows furrowed and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You couldn't do much but relax and take it, try to adjust to the thick girth stretching your pretty pink walls.

"Fuck, Nanami. So big, too big. It's so good," you babbled, your words just jumbled strings of thoughts flooding into your brain. "I can take it, I can take it."

He slid you back a little further onto the desk, lifting one of his long legs onto the wood to give him more access to your face. He needed to be able to see if you were handling it okay, knowing how much it could be taking his entire length. He halted his movements once he was fully buried deep inside you, rubbing circles on the patch of hair just above your cunt.

"You're doing such a good job baby. You're taking my whole cock right now, I'm so proud of you."

Your eyes fluttered open, fresh tears wetting them before you could help it. "Please move, I need you to move. Need more."

He looked at the fucked out, needy, cock-hungry expression on your face and did as you asked, fucking into you with strokes that massaged every part of your slick walls, not just fucking into you for the sake of it. He was precise in his movements, going slowly at first to get a feeling for what you reacted strongest to, but you wanted more. You didn't need perfect, you just wanted him. Fucking into your pussy so deep and so hard that you could barely remember your own name.

"So fucking tight,” he groaned out loud, talking more to himself than to you. He pressed down on your knees, forcing you open even without you needing to hold your knees yourself.

He watched the base of his cock hit your clit, over and over again. You cried out at the feeling, crossing your arms above your head to hide your expressions of bliss.

“Look at me while I’m inside of you," he ordered, using one hand to move your arms away from your face. You did as you were told, slowly opening your eyes to glance up at the man above you. Both of you moaning at how he fucked into you, beginning to work up to a punishing pace. Nothing like the jackhammer bullshit you'd sadly grown to tolerate, but something so precise and deep that you felt your body begin to shake at the motions.

“God, I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first time you came into my office. First time you said ‘yes sir’ and answered my questions in our club room,” he groaned, craning his neck a little to suck a nipple into his mouth as he thrust into you.

Your eyes naturally snapped closed as your mouth hung open wide, moan after moan spilling out as he fucked into you. He kissed your chest, pulling you down with him as he moved his knee off of the desk and steadied himself with his feet both grounded. The sensation was so different, even better, and somehow deeper than you could've ever imagined.

"I want to cum on your cock. Please? Make me cum, I want to cum with you in me."

He groaned at the string of obscenities spilling from your lips, adjusting you so he could fuck into you with both of his hands-free.

"Play with your tits for me baby, I know they feel good for you."

They did, so you did. Not missing the big gush of slick pouring from your pussy as you gently twisted a taut nipple between your thumb and index fingers. He used his right hand to rub soothing circles on your clit, while loosely wrapping your throat with his left hand, careful not to crush your airway.

"This okay?" he said, letting his hand go slack enough that you were still able to speak.

"Please," you cried, dying to feel him without the distraction of your own involuntarily moans and curses. You just got to feel it, not even having to focus on breathing correctly. It was perfect.

His hands found the perfect spots to squeeze down on the sides of your neck and he held his fingers there. Cutting off just a little of your oxygen but not trying to actually hurt you. No one had ever done this to you the right way, and god you never knew what you were missing out on. Your brain felt like someone had filled it with helium gas. Everything felt so airy, and warm, and so fucking good. The way his cock slid against your g-spot inside of you coupled with his thumb sliding sloppily on your clit had you buzzing, feeling like you were floating somewhere above your body.

"Fuck, you'll never want anyone's cock like this ever again. Good girl, you take me so well."

The warmth of his body where you were joined together, his curses and moans laced with adoration, the feeling of his strong hands rubbing and squeezing your body to get you off. It was all so much, like a rubber band being stretched as far as it could go, then being snipped with scissors.

"Oh my god. Kento, cumming. I'm — oh fuck — in me. Please, cum in me," you heard yourself crying distantly somewhere, the feeling of tension and warmth radiating through your body quickly turned into white-hot heat. Your cunt pulsated around your professor's cock, milking him for all he had to offer you.

You absentmindedly registered his hand falling from your neck, his groans filling your ears along with your own jumbled cries of his name as his cock twitched and spasmed inside your pussy, cumming into the latex glove protecting you both.

You helped him ride out his orgasm, grinding your pussy up against his pelvic bone while he rode out the pleasure, breathing heavily as you finally began to come down from your own.

He pulled out of you slowly, making sure to grip the base of the condom so it wouldn't slip off. Making quick work of tying the end and dropping it in the waste bin sat beside the desk.

"Good?" he questioned softly, pulling you up from where you were still laid out on the desk. He slid his hands under your jaw, just like before you’d started having sex, placing sloppy yet sweet kisses against your lips.

"S'good," you moaned, still feeling lingering crackles of pleasures coursing through your body, "So fucking good."

"Good," he agreed, placing one last kiss on your lips. He handed you your discarded t-shirt from the desk where he'd tossed it, helping you shimmy it on over your mane of curly locks. Pulling and adjusting your dress until it sat on your body like it hadn't just been all but ripped off mere moments ago.

"Do you need me to drive you home? I'm in a rental that goes back tomorrow. Anyone who saw wouldn't recognize it."

You shook your head no, knowing you'd driven your own car to school that day specifically because of this late-night meeting. "I got it, thank you though. I'll get out of here then before someone does have a reason to come snooping," you said, jumping off of the desk, ignoring the little wobble in your legs when you made your first few steps.

Nanami chuckled, noticing your jelly legs. "You sure? I can walk you down at least to make sure you make it okay."

"I'm a big girl Professor. I can get ten feet out the front door just fine by myself. Plus I have a taser and I'm not afraid to use it," you said matter-of-factly, shaking the car keys you'd taken from your bag that held said lipstick taser.

"Fair enough. You have my number from club still I'm assuming?"

"I do. I'll message when I'm home. I might stop by the library first to get some actual study time in first though," you said, gathering your materials off of his desk and putting them into your school bag. "I'm assuming I earned these?"

He nodded, watching you stuff the last of your school supplies back into your bag before you left.

"See you soon?"

"See you soon."

And with that, you were on your way.

Your phone began to ring as you rounded the final hallway corner to get into your apartment, your boyfriend's name popping up on the screen beside the bright white [11:42 pm] timestamp. Fuck.

"Hey," you said, your voice still a bit raw from all your yelling, "I meant to call. I just got home fro—"

"Babe, I sent you a picture, go look. You're home now right? I really want to see you tonight."

You couldn't help the exasperated sigh that huffed from your nose. You didn't need to look. You knew what the picture was of. It's what it was always of. "Hey, honey, I think we should see other people. Don't call me again."

You hung up the phone, ignoring his yelling from over the line before you did so, stomping your way across the threshold into your place. You stripped from your sweat-damp clothes, autopiloting your way through the process of showering and doing your skincare routine. It was well after midnight when you were done. You made yourself food anyway, plopping yourself onto the couch once you were set up and ready to relax.

*ding*

[nnm]: don't forget to actually study. glad you understand now that your old distractions were worthless

[nnm]: you don't want to see how i punish bad girls that don't pass their exams even with my resources

"Ha, is that so?"

[y/n]: lucky for you i have a point to prove in your class now

[y/n]: i am a glutton for punishment though. maybe I'll test you anyway

[nnm]: try it if you want. get some sleep, you had a long day.

He was right, you had. The exhaustion hitting you as soon as you were reminded of its existence. Food could wait, the flood of text messages coming to your phone could wait. Sleep, and sweet dreams, were all you needed at the moment. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

"Babe, what do you mean you're studying tonight? It's a Thursday night! That's basically Friday for college kids."

"I know," you sighed down the phone, already annoyed with having to explain this again to your boyfriend, "I'm just falling behind in a class that should've been easy for me so yeah, I need to study. We can hang out tomorrow night, maybe? Aren't you off of work then?"

He groaned, actually falling back against his bed in a little fit of a temper tantrum. For a 25-year-old you'd think he'd be more relaxed, but no, you found the one man in the entirety of your city that still whined like a baby when he heard "no."

"I work but only until 6. Still, baby, I miss you now. Don't you miss me?" he said, his voice laced with honey.

You sighed, steadying yourself as you continued your trek to the math office building.

"Honey, of course I miss you. But, I miss passing my classes even more. I can't disappoint this professor. He went out of his way to sign me on for his course even though I'm not supposed to be in it yet. I don't want him to regret doing that."

He groaned even louder.

"Fine," he huffed, "But I want you in my apartment, butt naked, dinner ordered already when I come home tomorrow. We haven't seen each other all week, that's way too long. Gotta make up for lost time babygirl."

You chuckled, for some reason imaging yourself naked, laid amongst a bunch of takeout pizza boxes like a nyotaimori girl.

"Yeah, fine. I'll come by. You owe me a massage and you better buy some good beers. The ones I like that taste like funky apple juice."

"Can do baby," he said, making a kissing sound down the phone line, "I love you. Have fun being a nerd or whatever."

"Yeah, yeah, you knew who I was when you met me," you giggled, bidding him goodbye as you walked up to the large office building. It was only 8:47 so you had, presumably, managed to beat your professor to his office.

The ride up the elevator to his floor was swift, thankfully, due to the new upgrades made to all the STEM buildings on your campus. Even the professors managed to snag some shiny new things. Professor Nanami's office was a perfect example.

The keypad for the door was touchpad accessed, not like the old key locks that jammed every fourth out of five tries. You were able to input the code he'd given you easily and the sound of the door unlocking rang through the still air of the empty floor.

You had definitely beaten him there, as the large office was vacant with only one squishy octopus lamp illuminating the professor's desk. You flipped on the light switch and looked around, not intentionally snooping but excited to see how the man filled his space regardless.

The first thing you noticed was the large floor mirror propped against the far wall of the room, pretty rose details carved into the wood frame. You took in the sight of yourself: your hair was as cute as it could be post wash-n-go, since you'd had time to thoroughly detangle and finger curl your locks that morning. You hadn't needed to rush back to campus from your partner's off-campus home, which saved you a noticeable amount of time. You'd put on a cute outfit today, deciding you had to dress nicely to accentuate your hair. You wore a white undershirt, a checkered red and blue dress, and white sneakers. Nothing fancy, but it did its job. You'd gotten a fair share of stares from men, and compliments from other girls as you'd walked around campus, so other people definitely agreed.

Turning away from the mirror you noticed a writing desk facing the wall. Little fairy lights were hung along the top and pictures were hung along the back. You got close enough to see Nobara in various poses with her friends, one with a cute boy with pink hair along with one dark-haired boy that actually really favored your boyfriend and another one with a girl that looked to be more than just her friend (if the matching rings and the bisexual flag in the background meant anything).

Cute. That made sense.

Her desk space was the only corner of the room fully decorated and homey. The rest of the room was very minimalistic besides the mirror. Everything had its own place to go so nothing looked scattered or out-of-order.

You walked over to his desk, sitting down your backpack on the student desk adjacent to his large mahogany one, pulling out all your note-taking stuff because, why not? You scanned the surface of his desk as you did so, not missing the fact that his desk was vacant of any family photos. The only thing on it was a photo of him and a group of his male friends all dressed up in suits, a mini version of his diploma, and an encased medal for something hunting-related.

Interesting.

The slow creak of the heavy office door opening made you jump out of your skin, expected but at the same time, it wasn't. Maybe if you were paying attention you would've heard him walking down the tiled hallway.

"Oh, [y/n], you did beat me here. I thought I saw the light on from the hall."

"Yeah, sorry. Should I have waited on the hall bench or..."

"No, no," he shook his head, "I gave you the keycode for a reason.

You nodded, taking your seat at the student desk as your professor made his way to his desk, pulling out this and that until he was situated and organized.

"So, here's your last two exams, marked up with explanations. Here's a study guide for this unit's information that Nobara made. Don't show your classmates, they won't get it until after this exam as a review sort of thing. Also, here," he said, handing you a fidget toy that clicked and spun without making noise, "If you feel antsy during class and can't focus, try this. I've had some students say it helps hone in your brain or something."

You stared blankly at the small pile of stuff on your desk.

"You got all this in between your classes today?"

"Yup," he said plainly, "But, I'm not giving it to you until we have a chat."

He slid the papers back onto his desk and out of the way, interlocking his fingers as he leaned against the desk.

"I have to ask. What's actually been distracting you so much in class? You seem a little distracted right now, even. What gives? None of this stuff is going to help if we don't actually address the issue."

"Well," you stuttered, "It's, uh, nothing specific really."

You pointedly ignored the incessant buzzing in your back pocket, already knowing it was your boyfriend asking how the tutoring was going, when you'd be done, if you missed his cock yet. Blah blah blah. He was older, and lived off-campus, so he knew your phone was the only way to really keep in constant contact the way he wanted. It wasn't that bad, it was kind of sweet that he wanted you so badly all the time. But right now, it was really irritating. Your professor noticed, cocking an eyebrow as he waited for you to answer out loud.

"It's just," you hesitated, "Stupid boy stuff. My boyfriend wants to be up under me 24/7 and it's just been a little hard balancing school and keeping him happy. I do still tell him I have to study and everything though so it's not always him or anything."

"Hm," he hummed, "You do know a relationship that disrupts your life instead of adding some form of peace to it isn't a happy or healthy one, right? I'm not saying this young man is a bad person or anything, but it's not selfish to prioritize your own growth. You're young, build yourself up before building a relationship. Just food for thought on that."

You blinked at him, starting to loop what he said on repeat in your mind.

"You don't know anything about our relationship, respectfully. You're right, he isn't a bad guy, just a little needy. Nothing wrong with that, and at the end of the day I'm the one deciding to spend my time with him so it's not his fault that my grades have slipped. I'll do better sir."

He scoffed, folding his arms across his broad chest as he relaxed back into his seat.

"Wow, throwing away your studies for a boy who's probably never even made you cum before. I thought you were a lot smarter than that [y/n]."

You couldn't hide the shock on your face at that.

"Hey," you stuttered, "He hasn't, you don't... he has made me cum before, thank you very much! And, I'm not throwing away my studies for him either I'm just... trying to find a good balance. That's all."

"Mhm," he hummed, raising his eyebrows in a way you knew meant 'yeah right,' "Touching yourself while he fucks you doesn't count, by the way."

You racked your brain, pissed that no occasion had come up in your brain where he did all the work. You can't stand the smirk that creeps onto your professor's face.

"Wow, I was just messing with you. Has he really never made you cum before? Eaten you out until you were genuinely screaming his name, not just faking it so he'd get on with it? Really?"

You shrunk a little in your seat, burying your face in your hands as you nodded your head.

"Wow," he gasped, actually trying to hold back a chuckle, "Honey, I know his type. He may say pretty words often enough to distract you from how much you actually detest him as a person, but trust me, there's way better for you out there. Someone who wouldn't let you piss away your standing as one of the best students in this department to watch him play apex all night, and lick around your clit for so long that you have to fuck yourself while he sleeps. If you're gonna screw your grades because of some guy, at least let it be one that makes you feel good, at the bare minimum."

You couldn't help the rush of anger and embarrassment that was bubbling up in your chest. He didn't know your boyfriend, he didn't know how you felt or what you wanted.

"What would you know about that anyway, huh?" you asked, venom in your tone, "I don't see any engagement photos or a ring on your finger Mr. "I Think I Know You Better Than You Do." I know you don't have kids because of club last semester. So, what do you know about lasting relationships and keeping a woman happy?"

He sat up in his chair at that, his eyes even darker somehow than the beautiful brown you'd grown used to. They looked almost black.

"Watch your tone or I'll have to show you exactly how I keep women around, and you couldn't handle that sweetheart. You're still fucking little boys who don't wash their hands after rummaging through cheeto bags before they finger you. I'd break you."

The threatening tone to his voice sounded so genuine, you knew he wasn't joking. The realization of that made heat start to pool in your belly. You felt your clit throb, just a little, stirring up the thrumming of anticipated pleasure in your cunt. You felt yourself becoming slick with arousal already just from him saying that. You knew what he said would be true.

"That's not true. I'm a strong girl, you'd have to try pretty hard to make me break, sir."

His eyes darkened even more at the nickname, his legs spreading a little further as he was no doubt starting to feel the effects of your conversation just like you were. Still, though, he was as calm and collected as ever. His eyes were trained on you like a hawk, reading every flicker of expression crossing your face.

"Baby, you're shaking. You know I can see you clenching your thighs together, right? Your pupils are huge, and your nipples are hard as a rock even though it's not cold in here. I swear I can smell how turned on you are right now. Are you wearing panties under that sexy little dress you've got on?"

You froze. You'd totally forgotten that you weren't. Your boyfriend wanted nudes after you told him you couldn't hang out tonight, so you'd gone to your econ studies hallway bathroom and taken some photos. You were already braless so that part was easy, but taking photos angled from the bottom always looked better pantiless. The problem was, you'd forgotten to put them back on in your rush to make it to your office hour with Nanami on time. Fuck, why were you trying so hard to prove yourself worthy of staying in his class?

"I'll take that as a no I'm guessing," he said, standing from his seat at his desk. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his dress shirt, taking both ends and rolling them up to expose his forearms.

"Hop up here for me baby," he said, tapping the surface of his work desk.

You sat on the desk, shimmying your butt until you were comfortably up there without flashing your vagina at your professor in an awkward way. He lifted you a little by your waist to help you, slotting himself between your thighs as soon as you were settled. He slid his hands behind your ears, cupping your face and forcing you to look up at him.

"Do you want me to show you how a man should be pleasuring you? How good you can actually feel if you're open to meeting better men for you?"

Maybe being with a more experienced man would show you what you've been missing. What kind of sex is actually worth driving yourself crazy for.

You were so lost in his eyes. His pupils were blown wide open and you felt like little more than prey succumbing to being hunted. His knee was slotted between your legs and it took everything in you not to grind against him, like an untrained little whore who needed to get off that desperately.

"Yes, please."

"Please, what?"

"Please sir, please show me what I'm missing."

He smirked again, that devilish little smile on the corner of his lips that made a rush of heat flow through your body.

He lowered his head and you tilted up your chin, meeting his lips in a deep kiss. You melted at the feeling of his tongue gently pushing into your mouth, not overpowering your own tongue but moving with it instead.

"Damn, that needy already? You have to grind on my thigh to get off?"

You stopped moving your hips, not even noticing what you'd subconsciously been doing. You just wanted more pleasure, you wanted him to touch you.

"Please, sir, I need more."

"You need more? We're just kissing and you already need more?"

You whined, nodding your head up and down instead of talking. If you used your voice you were sure you'd say something desperately, disgustingly, horny.

"Pull up that skirt for me babe," he instructed, lightly smacking your thigh beneath the end of your dress.

You jumped a little, pulling up the dress until it was bunched up above your waist. You could already feel how wet you were, but seeing the way your pussy glistened underneath the relatively dim light of his office lamp made you want to hide.

"Fuck," he groaned, taking in the sight and slightly musky aroma of your arousal, "Now I'm convinced your boyfriends have all been inept. You're so fucking easy. So wet and desperate already and I've barely even touched you yet."

"Shut up," you giggled, "They weren't inept, you just really fucking turn me on. Show me why I'm supposed to think you're better than them."

He took that personally. He grabbed you by the back of your knees, sliding your body closer to the edge of the desk.

"Off," he said, sliding the spaghetti straps of your dress down your arms, grabbing and pulling off the cropped t-shirt you had on underneath.

Your breasts dropped beautifully out of your clothes, bouncing a bit as they settled.

"God you're gorgeous," he said, taking your left nipple between his thumb and pointer finger, pinching it just enough to make your stomach clench, "Don't know how the hell I didn't break a year ago."

You couldn't help the moan that ripped it's way from your throat once he crouched a bit, putting his mouth around your other nipple. You've always been really sensitive there. Not all of your partners knew how to give you just enough stimulation to feel good but not so much that it was uncomfortable.

Nanami found a perfect balance of both.

The AC actually had kicked on at some point, making the room just cold enough to send a chill through your bones. Your nipples were cold like every other part of the surface of your skin, so the warmth along with the wetness from his mouth was driving you insane.

"I swear to god I could cum just like this if we had the time," you moaned, your eyes rolling back in your head.

His eyes flickered up to your face, seeing how blissful and fucked out you looked already just from his mouth on your breasts. He pulled away just long enough to pull you into a sloppy kiss, taking a moment to drink you in.

"This is all about making you feel good baby," he said, kissing and sucking (lightly, to not leave marks) on your neck, "If you want to sit here for hours and see how many times you can cum this way, I'm all for it. No one will be back in this building until 11 am tomorrow. I can't imagine the mahogany would be comfortable to lay on for that long though."

You sighed, he was right.

"I guess I'll just have to invite myself over to your place for an overnight study session sometime then. Why don't you show me how good you eat pussy in the meantime, hm? You talked a lot of shit about all the men I've been with before."

"I did, and I meant it."

He laid you flat on your back in one smooth motion, pulling up a rouge chair with his foot right after. He pushed your legs up to your chest, having you grab them by the back of your knees. He was sat in front of your spread legs as if he was going to feast on a michelin star meal.

"I need you to use your words for me if I do something you don't like. If you do like it, don't be afraid to make noise. My office is soundproofed from all the brick. Understand?"

He was running the knuckle of his finger through your folds, spreading the lips gently to get a good look at you. You were leaking onto the table from how turned on you were, you swollen little nub peaking from its hood on full display.

"Yes," you said, your voice quivering.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes sir," you said with no hesitation, desperate for him to finally touch you.

He blew a small puff of air from his mouth onto your clit, making the little bud contract a little and engorge even more when he stopped. He had one arm laid across the backs of your thighs, holding your legs down into a mating press. His free hand was rubbing against your entrance, creating more and more slick until he pressed in with his middle and ring finger. You were no virgin, you could take it and he knew that.

"Your hands are so big," you commented, instantly feeling the difference between his hands and the men you'd been with before. His were large and rough but in a good way. Taken care of and manicured, but hands of a man who'd done work in his life. A mature older man that knew exactly how to extract every morsel of pleasure he could from your body.

His touch was practiced. He pumped those two fingers inside of you until he found what he needed. He was so rough yet so gentle at the same time it was driving you mad.

No one had ever touched you like this before. He was doing something different with his fingers, something no boyfriend you'd ever slept with had done the right way. He found that little patch of nerves inside your cunt, sort of massaging it more than pushing on it. It felt like he was licking you from the inside with the way his fingers worked inside your slick walls.

"There, that's so good."

"That feels good princess? Do you want more?"

You shook your head furiously, a weak "uh-huh" leaving your lips as well.

The sensation of just his fingers was already a lot, but it was even more heightened when he lowered his head down to lick you. Going up from just above where his fingers were fucking into you slowly, all the way up to your swollen clit.

"Holy fuck," you gasped, feeling pleasure shoot up your spine as he took the little button into his mouth, sucking on it gently as the tip of his tongue fluttered back and forth over it.

What was that? Why the hell had no one you'd ever slept with done that?

He hummed a bit while he suckled your clit, the slight feeling of vibration being the beginning of the end.

"Jesus fucking christ, daddy. Daddy, I need more, harder suck harder. I'm gonna cum for you so quick I can already feel it. Fuck, that feels so good."

Were you really about to be that girl who fell apart as soon as you met a man who touched you the right way?

Yeah, yeah you were.

"Oh, Nanami, please. I can't take it if you keep doing that. I'm gonna cum. Please tell me I can cum."

He didn't need to say anything in response to that, he just increased the pressure on his fingers and sucked harder on your clit.

Seeing stars would've been an understatement.

You might've squirted. Everything was too much all at once, you couldn't actually tell, but you knew you were cumming. You'd never cum so hard in your entire life. Colors danced behind your eyelids, your ears felt clogged from all the pressure, and you were grinding yourself up against his tongue so passionately you were basically fucking his face.

He took it in stride, milking your g-spot for all it could give him, still sucking your clit through your orgasm.

"Ah, too much," you felt yourself whine as your orgasm dissipated.

He pulled away, placing one last delicate kiss on your clit.

"So?" he said, an all too cocky look on his face.

"So," you sighed, propping yourself up on your elbows, "I literally can't hear out of my right ear right now. It feels like someone stuffed cotton balls in there. What the fuck did you do to me?"

He chuckled, tickled pink apparently that you had cum so hard you were losing one of your five major senses.

"You're okay baby, it'll die down. It's just because your blood pressure dropped."

He stood from his seat, pulling you into a kiss. You deepened it, feeling his erection pressing into the meat of your thigh.

"Wanna see if I can make you see stars the same way?" you said, your eyes looking up at his in the most sinful way.

"If you're actually in pain, we don't have to. We can always pick this up another time."

"No way," you said, undoing the fastenings on his slacks, "I want you to fuck me, please? I promise I can take dick really well. You'll be dying to fuck me any chance you get from now on. I need to know how you feel inside me."

You pulled his cock out from his pants with no contest from the professor, his length easily being the most girthy thing you'd ever held.

"Wow."

He chuckled, a little too amused at the shocked expression on your face.

"Sure you can take it all babygirl?"

"I can try," you said, eyeing his length, pumping it to full hardness in your hand, "I'm so wet for you, I think we can get it in. I know you're dying to see how this pussy feels."

It was a big dick, you weren't trying to kid yourself. He had girth on his side more than length, but he was not small by any means. He could absolutely kiss your cervix with a little effort if he wanted to. It was pretty also. Pale and pink with emphasized veins on the side, the pale pink head covered with a small bead of pre-cum.

He reached around you to open a drawer of the desk, pulling out a little latex condom wrapped in plastic packaging.

You watched Nanami slowly open then roll the condom onto his stiff cock, your thighs squeezing together at the sight of it. He groaned at the feeling.

“You sure? Wouldn't want you to regret anything once you're back with the lackluster little man child.”

Nanami fisted himself a few times, shuddering as he did, careful to support your waist with his arm as he rubbed his cock against your entrance.

"Professor?" you cooed, biting your lip as you felt him rubbing himself against your aching clit, "Shut up and fuck me."

He chuckled, always amused by you being brash back at his little quips.

"Spread yourself open for me baby," he instructed, looking down at your dripping wet cunt.

You did as you were told, spreading yourself open to allow the larger-than-average man into your velvety walls.

You both let out deep groans at the new sensation. He knew you were turned on enough not to be painfully tight, but the way your sloppy wet cunt sucked him in, squeezing him in place was enough to steal the breath from his lungs.

You felt so disastrously full. Your brows furrowed and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You couldn't do much but relax and take it, try to adjust to the thick girth stretching your pretty pink walls.

"Fuck, Nanami. So big, too big. It's so good," you babbled, your words just jumbled strings of thoughts flooding into your brain, "I can take it, good girl, I can take it."

He slid you back a little further onto the desk, lifting one of his long legs onto the wood to give him more access to your face. He needed to be able to see if you were handling it okay, knowing how much it could be taking his entire length. He halted his movements once he was fully buried deep inside you, rubbing circles on the skin just above your cunt.

"You're such a good job babygirl. You're taking my whole cock right now, I'm so proud of you."

Your eyes fluttered open, fresh tears wetting them before you could help it.

"Please move, I need you to move. Need more."

He looked at the fucked out, needy, cock-hungry expression on your face and did as you asked, fucking into you with strokes that massaged every part of your slick walls, not just fucking into you for the sake of it.

He was precise in his movements, going slowly at first to get a feeling for what you reacted strongest to, but you wanted more. You didn't need perfect, you just wanted him. Fucking into your pussy so deep and so hard that you could barely remember your own name.

"So fucking tight,” he groaned out loud, talking more to himself than to you. He pressed down on your knees, forcing you open even without you holding your knees yourself.

He watched the base of his cock hit your clit, over and over again. You cried out at the feeling, crossing your arms above your head to hide your expressions of bliss.

“Look at me while I’m inside of you," he ordered, using one hand to move your arms away from your face. You did as you were told, slowly opening your eyes to glance up at the man above you. Both of you moaning at how he fucked into you, beginning to work up to a punishing pace. Nothing like the jackhammer bullshit you'd sadly grown to tolerate, but something so precise and deep that you felt your body begin to shake at the motions.

“God, I’ve wanted to fuck you since the first time you came in my office. First time you said yes sir and answered my questions in our club room,” he groaned, craning his neck a little to suck a nipple into his mouth as he thrust into you.

Your eyes naturally snapped closed as your mouth hung open wide, moan after moan spilling out as he fucked into you.

He kissed at your chest, pulling you down with him as he moved his knee off of the desk and steadied himself with his feet both grounded. The sensation was so different, even better, and somehow deeper than you could've ever imagined.

"I want to cum on your cock. Please? Make me cum, I want to cum with you in me."

He groaned at the string of obscenities spilling from your lips, adjusting you so he could fuck into you with both of his hands free.

"Play with your tits for me baby, I know they feel good for you."

They did, so you did. Not missing the big gush of slick pouring from your pussy as you gently twisted a taut nipple between your thumb and index fingers.

He used his right hand to rub soothing circles on your clit, while loosely wrapping your throat with his left hand, careful not to block your airway.

"This okay?" he said, letting his hand be slack enough that you were still able to speak.

"Please," you cried, dying to feel him without the distraction of your own involuntarily moans and curses. You just got to feel it, not even having to focus on breathing correctly. It was perfect.

His hands found the perfect spots to squeeze down on the sides of your neck and he held his fingers there. Cutting off just a little of your oxygen but not trying to actually hurt you. No one had ever done this to you the right way, and god you never knew what you were missing out on.

Your brain felt like someone had filled it with helium gas. Everything felt so airy, and warm, and so fucking good. The way his cock slid against your g-spot inside of you coupled with his thumb sliding sloppily around your clit had you buzzing, feeling like you were floating somewhere above your body.

"Fuck, you'll never want anyone's cock like this ever again. Good girl, you take me so well."

The warmth of his body where you were joined together, his curses and moans laced with adoration, the feeling of his strong hands rubbing and squeezing your body to get you off. It was all so much, like a rubber band being stretched as far as it could go, then being snipped with scissors.

"Oh my god. Nanami, cumming. I'm, oh fuck, in me. Please, cum in me," you heard yourself crying distantly somewhere, the feeling of tension and warmth radiating through your body quickly turned into white-hot heat. Your cunt pulsated around your professor's cock, milking him for all he had to offer you.

You absentmindedly registered his hand falling from your neck, his groans filling your ears along with your own jumbled cries of his name as his cock twitched and spasmed inside your pussy, cumming into the latex glove protecting you both.

You helped him ride out his orgasm, grinding your pussy up against his pelvic bone while he rode out the pleasure, breathing heavily as you finally began to come down from your own.

He pulled out of you slowly, making sure to grip the base of the condom so it wouldn't slip off. Making quick work of tying the end and dropping it in the wastebin sat beside the desk.

"Good?" he questioned softly, pulling you up from where you were still laid out on the desk.

He slid his hands under your jaw, just like earlier, placing sloppy yet sweet kisses against your lips.

"S'good," you moaned, still feeling lingering crackles of pleasures coursing through your body, "So fucking good."

"Good," he agreed, placing one last kiss on your lips. He handed you your discarded t-shirt from the desk where he'd tossed it, helping you shimmy it on over your mane of curly locks. Pulling and adjusting your dress until it sat on your body like it hadn't just been all but ripped off mere moments ago.

"Do you need me to drive you home? I'm in a rental that goes back tomorrow. Anyone who saw wouldn't recognize it."

You shook your head no, knowing you'd driven your own car to school that day specifically because of this late-night meeting.

"I got it, thank you though. I'll get out of here then before someone does have a reason to come snooping," you said, jumping off of the desk, ignoring the little wobble in your legs when you made your first few steps.

Nanami chuckled, noticing your jelly legs.

"You sure? I can walk you down at least to make sure you make it okay."

"I'm a big girl Professor. I can get ten feet out the door just fine by myself. Plus I have a taser and I'm not afraid to use it," you said matter-of-factly, shaking your car keys you'd taken from your bag that held said lipstick taser.

"Fair enough. You have my number from club still I'm assuming?"

"I do. I'll message when I'm home," you said, gathering your study materials off of his desk and putting them into your school bag, "I'm assuming I earned these, right?"

He nodded, watching you stuff the last of your stuff into your bag before you left.

"See you soon?"

"See you soon [y/n]."

And with that, you were on your way.

Your phone began to ring as you rounded the final hallway corner to get into your apartment, your boyfriend's name popping up on the screen beside the bright white [1:42 AM] timestamp. Fuck.

"Hey," you started, your voice still a bit raw from all your yelling, "I meant to call. I just got h-"

"Babe, I sent you a picture, go look. You're home now right? I really want to see you tonight."

You couldn't help the exasperated sigh that huffed from your nose. You didn't need to look. You knew what the picture was of. It's what it was always of.

"Hey, honey, I think we should see other people. Don't call me again."

With that, you hung up the phone, ignoring his yelling from over the line before you did so, stomping your way across the threshold into your place.

You stripped from your sweat-damp clothes, autopiloting your way through the process of showering and doing your skincare routine.

It was well after 2:00 am when you were done. You made yourself food anyway, plopping yourself onto the couch once you were set up and ready to relax.

*ding*

[nnm]: don't forget to actually study. glad you understand now that your old distractions were worthless

[nnm]: you don't want to see how i punish bad girls that don't pass their exams even with my resources

"Ha, is that so?"

[y/n]: lucky for you i have a point to prove in your class now

[y/n]: i am a glutton for punishment though. maybe I'll test you anyway

[nnm]: try it if you want. get some sleep, you had a long day.

He was right, you had. The exhaustion hitting you as soon as you were reminded of its existence. Food could wait, the flood of text messages coming to your phone could wait.

Sleep, and sweet dreams, were all you needed at the moment. Everything else could wait until tomorrow.

thank you for reading! ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊ gimme a like, a reblog, a follow, an ask. whatever :D

˭̡̞(◞⁎˃ᆺ˂)◞*✰ i am a big ol slut for interacting with you guys. i'd love some moots :'D

[kemakoshume]

𝔫𝔰𝔣𝔴 – 𝔪𝔡𝔫𝔦 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

i feel like atsumu would start suckling on your tits to fall asleep as a joke. like, one night you’d be on your period and achy all over and not wanting to have sex but you can’t stop complaining about how sore your boobs are so he’d crowd into your space and be all like, “want me to suck a titty? idk if it’ll help but i’ll do what i can,” and you’d whip them out in a heartbeat because “sure yeah that’d be great actually,” and let him suckle to his heart's content. at first, you’re glancing at each other and giggling a little at the whole concept of non-sexual titty sucking but after a while, you both cuddle into each other and relax into it. the warm heat of his mouth wrapped around your nipple is actually very soothing and it does help relieve the dull ache that was bothering you before. you pull out your phone and start scrolling through some app and running your hands through his hair against the background noise of some sports highlight show he was watching when all of a sudden... snoring. this man fell asleep, titty in mouth, still going on pure reflex & you’re just... dumbfounded. and of course, eventually, his mouth relaxes and goes slack so now he’s knocked out cold on your chest, counting sheep into the sunset or whatever, having the most restful slumber of his god damn life, all the while your spit slick nipple is pressing right up against his cheek.

yeah sucking on your nipples until he passes out may have become a regular occurrence after that. even though he swears he doesn’t feel 10x more rested after falling asleep that way.

– requests: [OPEN] ✧ send em in