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satorhime · 1 year

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

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

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

nanami kento is out of his mind.

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

normal. standard. boring.

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

and gojo satoru knows the exact location.

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

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

nanami kento’s weakness is a woman off limits.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“it’s just like old times, eh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and of course, it doesn’t work.

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

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

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

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

“o-oh-”

whatever answer you expected, it wasn’t that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you literally have the six eyes, satoru.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“do you want me to?”

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

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

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

“the cctv-”

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

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

“tch.” gojo rolls his eyes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“but i want to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“stop moving.”

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

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

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

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

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

satoru isn’t interested in just watching though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“after you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you are unbelievably crude.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“attention hog,” you roll your eyes.

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

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

“o-oh-! what was that for-”

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

“dirty old exhibitionist.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ugh!”

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

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

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

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

“not this again-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“o-oh- oh my god.”

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

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

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

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

“nuh-nanami-san, please-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

but oh, he shouldn’t have said that.

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

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

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

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

you don’t want him to.

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

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

“i expect that apology i was promised now.”

god, you don’t need to be told twice.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what is it, love? go on.”

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

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

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

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

“gojo-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“nghhhh-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“how does he feel, angel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“k-kento-”

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

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

“f-fuck, sweet girl. just like that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i didn’t get to cum,” you pout.

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

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

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

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

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

“f-… god. f-fuck you.”

“anything for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“stop staring at it-!”

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

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

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

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

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

he is the outsider, after all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you have to make breakfast in the morning.”

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

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fuckaperioddrama · 1 month

Text

Blaise Zabini Headcanons

Author’s Note: I've grown to love Blaise. I will write one for Draco and maybe Tom, but I have some other stuff I want to write first. My drafts are filling up.

Proofread, but there's ALWAYS mistakes. Ugh.

Theodore Nott Headcanons

Mattheo Riddle Headcanons

Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons

Tom Riddle Headcanons

Masterlist

Minors DNI | 18+

___

Blaise Zabini | Physique

6’2 - 6’3 | Same height as Mattheo

Lean build and naturally athletic. Very toned.

His V line??? No words.

He gives me major jock vibes in terms of how he looks.

I feel like he also looks super clean?

I don't know if that makes sense. Like skin glowing, clothes freshly pressed, very clean and nice hands. He looks like someone who has their life together.

Resting bitch face. Always looks uninterested and unamused.

Besides that, he has a really nice smile. It changes his whole aura.

Really nice teeth. When he smiles, your eyes are immediately drawn to his mouth.

His smile is just so warm and comforting.

He's really pretty?

Intimidatingly pretty, it's like he doesn't have a single bad feature.

Blaise Zabini | Personality

The best one in the group. Genuinely. Still has asshole tendencies, but there's no doubt that he's the nicest one.

He was raised by a strong woman and never had a consistent father figure in his life.

While this left its scars, it made him into someone who really respects women and their opinions.

Unlike his friends, he doesn’t see them as pieces of meat.

He has a lot of different friend groups. He hangs out mostly with the boys, but he’ll make an appearance in the other groups from time to time.

He's not friendly, but he's polite. He won't approach a random person, but if they approach him he won't brush them off.

They never get much out of him. He’s very short, not trying to carry the conversation and uninterested.

The people who don't know him think he's just like that and the people who do know him know he's hinting that he wants them to go away.

Judgemental and stubborn.

He has his way of doing things and if you do it differently then he thinks you're annoying. He doesn't get mad, just agitated.

He won't always say what's on his mind, but he'll show it through his facial expressions.

He's so funny. He has this big tough guy exterior, but he can be so sassy.

Draco will walk out in a new suit he just bought

Cost me quite a lot. I look good don't I?

Blaise will just lightly screw his face up in distaste.

Mm.

He doesnt even have to say anyting to be a bitch.

Don't ever cross him. He will make you regret every life decision you ever made.

He's so observant, he notices everything. He picks up on every mistake, every insecurity, and will point them out just to get back at someone.

Seriously. He will bring you to tears if you piss him off.

But when he's really hurt by someone or something he becomes very stoic. He will never break down in private, but never in public.

Nervous breakdown in the closet, tears, snot, the whole lot. Then he’ll walk out looking completely fine.

He is really good at putting himself together in a pinch.

Will NEVER speak up when he's suffering and he hates it when people know about the things he's going through.

A bit of a loner, but like Theo he makes appearances at parties and big events because he's from a good family. He feels like it’s expected of him.

He's an unintentionally social person. People just start talking to him out of nowhere and he lets them.

Mainly because he likes to know stuff about people.

Blaise wants the tea. He wants to know who did what and why they did it.

He and Draco have a little debrief each week to talk shit. He would never miss it.

A keeper in Quidditch

Once again, all of the boys smoke some weed from time to time. Blaise partakes in both alcohol and weed equally.

Definitely a dark liquor man

Pretty pretentious when it comes to alcohol. He hasn't even tried the cheap stuff. Never will.

He travels to distilleries to handpick his own bottles and barrels. Knows a lot about how to make whiskey, bourbon, etc. It's a little fun fact about him. | I know this is so random, but I feel like this just suits him???

Blaise Zabini | Casanova

Blaise is a pretty straightforward person.

He's not really classified as a manwhore, but he also doesn't believe in celibacy either.

He hooks up every now and then. At least 1-2 girls a month. It's very casual.

There's not a lot of buildup. He doesn't spend days pursuing these women. It's usually 2 hours or 10 minutes.

He decides he wants sex and finds a girl he thinks is attractive.

Has NEVER been turned down. It's crazy. He can talk up anyone. Such a smooth talker.

Blaise doesn’t fuck, he makes love.

He he pays attention to how their body reacts and quickly learns how to please them.

He's slow and passionate. Loves missionary.

But there's not a lot of emotion on his part. Not very vocal either.

He likes to touch and feel, he's not wasting time on words.

Aftercare is average but it’s there which is more than I can say for any of the other boys.

He'll clean them up afterwards and then place a joint in his mouth while he pours himself and them glass of whiskey. Wanna smoke?

If the they reach out to him then he'd be down to have sex again maybe, but he doesn't reach out to anyone after they hook up. He always finds a different person.

He has a three and done rule for the people he does see again. Will never hook up with a single person more than three times because he doesn't want to catch feelings or vice versa.

Doesn't date. That's it. He makes it very clear to everyone around him that he isn't a relationship person. He doesn’t lead anyone on and is very blunt about his intentions.

He says he has no interest in it, but deep down he’s really afraid of intimacy and vulnerability.

He’s got commitment issues

Blaise Zabini | Friend

Closest to Theo and Draco. They’re on the same level.

Second closest to Tom. He and Tom are the ones who sit back and watch the chaos unfold.

More so Tom because Blaise will usually end up putting a stop to it eventually.

Blaise is the glue that holds everyone together. They would genuinely fall apart without him.

He is the only person who can boss them around. No one gets it, but they just listen to Blaise?

Blaise doesn’t talk much, even around the boys. So when he does talk people have to pay attention. His voice is very deep and naturally assertive. He can silence a room with one word.

Blaise really helps the boys grow.

Blaise makes them better people because he has the most empathy.

Instead of taking his pain and turning it into anger, he turned it into understanding. He really tries to see everyone’s perspective and why they do what they do.

Whenever the boys get into arguments and are so wrapped up in their own pride Blaise is the one to remind them to think about how the other person feels.

Devil's Advocate. Usually a middle man. It’s rare he’s involved in confrontations.

The boys don't take care of Blaise in return because he won't give any indication he needs taken care of.

Except Theo. He knows Blaise doesn’t want to talk about what he’s going through, but he notices the difference in his demeanor. It's because they are very similar in how they handle their feelings.

It’s hard for Blaise to let loose and have fun. He’s usually very serious, but the boys are able to coax it out of him.

When Blaise does let loose he goes wild.

The most drunk, the most high, and he is running in every direction causing the most chaos. The boys are shocked each and every time and without fail always bring it up whenever they hang out.

Three months after the incident they’re all sitting in the common room and Lorenzo speaks up.

Hey Blaise? Remember when you got drunk and almost went home with that 70 year ol-

Remember when you knew how to shut the fuck up?

Blaise Zabini | Boyfriend

Gentle

He's so tender and sweet with you.

Blaise never yells at you. Ever.

I feel like Blaise also has this protector/provider mindset. He spent most of his life taking care of his mom and making promises to her that he would never turn out like the men she married. The men she had to get rid of.

It's part of the reason why it took him so long to let himself fall in love. He felt a lot of pressure to get it right and make his mom proud.

Blaise isn't big on PDA. He thinks it’s showy and unnecessary, he'd much rather show his affections in private. Physical Touch

Blaise still likes to keep you close to him despite not being big on PDA. Like Mattheo he finds comfort in knowing you're safe. But Blaise won't reach out to touch you, he’ll just make sure he's in your space.

Letting your legs touch as you sit together, walking so close through the hallways that your hands graze with each sway of your arm, standing directly behind you so much so that your back is pressed flush against his chest.

You always know he's there.

Then there's private touches.

He'll send you a note to meet him in the Room of Requirement after class.

The second your foot steps into the room you're pulled into his embrace. You feel the weight of his shoulders melt away as he slumps into your touch. Pulling back he traces his finger tips up your arm, moving past your shoulder and neck before gently cupping your face in his hands. He doesn't say anything, just staring at you while his eyes scan every feature from the tip of your hairline from the bottom of your chin.

Are you okay?

Yeah, I'm okay. He mutteres pushing his face down and connecting his lips to yours. I just missed you.

When you're standing in the hallway he'll softly squeeze your hip for a couple of seconds to announce his presence.

Sometimes when you're walking with the group he'll grab your wrist and hold you back while the others keep going. Before you can even question it you feel his lips press against yours.

He smiles at you and you two bask in the couple seconds of tenderness hidden from the rest of the group.

Blaise doesn't feel the need to announce his love to everyone, just the one that matters. You.

He mainly shows his love through spending time with you and doing things he believes will make your life easier. Quality Time and Acts of Service

Blaise enjoys his alone time and will never hang out with someone unless he genuinely wants to.

You realize how much Blaise cares about you because he invites you to do the things he usually does by himself.

Sitting at the black lake to think, walking around Hogsmeade when he thinks too much, lounging in his room, savoring his drink and letting his breath calm with each exhale of his joint.

Blaise wants you there. Even when you're both not talking, he finds comfort in your presence.

He likes to take you to out as well. Blaise might take you out to an arcade, amusement park, or something fun every once in a while, but usually it's the more luxurious stuff. Wine tastings, fancy dinners, well hidden speakeasies. He always knows the best spots and he gets so excited to show them to you.

I feel like Blaise is a bit of a food snob and that would go over into your meals together.

He takes time explaining which wines go with which dish and he knows the backstory of the chef and where they got their training. He'll explain how to eat certain things in order to experience the most flavor. He can go on and on about it and you just let him because Blaise doesn't get excited about much. It's nice to hear him go on a rant every once in a while.

And while at these dinners Blaise is the perfect gentleman.

Pulls out your chair, holds the door for you, pays for everything.

Blaise prefers to be the one who pays, but he'd let you if you asked to. He likes to tease you about it if ever you end up paying. He'll wink at you before saying,

Thank you for dinner, my love. Now let me take care of dessert.

Blaise also likes to take care of you by making sure everything is pristine. I feel like he likes to stay clean and organized, so in turn he'll help you stay clean and organized.

Tidying up your room, organizing your desk, and if you have some items that are in disarray he'll replace them with newer versions.

It can start some small arguments if you're someone who prefers things a little messy.

Blaise, I don't need new shoes.

Yes, you do. Look! Theres a little hole right there.

I like the hole! I like how messy they look!

But WHY??

Then one day you come back to find brand new a box under your shoes. Rolling your eyes you put the fresher pair before heading out for the day.

Blaise sees you and instantly breaks out into a smile.

They're just going to get ruined like the last pair.

Then I'll go out again and buy you some more.

Gift Giving

Blaise likes to match.

I hate matching couple stuff, but it makes sense for him.

He buys you guys matching rings, matching shoes, necklaces.

If he goes out to buy himself a suit then he's getting you a dress that goes with it. Double of every shirt, every jacket, sweater.

He'll buy you a set of lacey blue lingerie and surprise you with a pair of briefs the exact same color. So we can be equally sexy.

Blaise is also a flower guy, but he likes to put together his own bouquets. Not himself, but he hand picks everything. He won't go to a florist and buy the bouquets on display. You're too special for that. He hand picks the best flowers, and takes time thinking about which ones will go best together.

He spends months planning out gifts for birthdays, Valentine's Day, anniversaries, etc.

Blaise makes a note of everything you like. I think he actually has a little piece of paper where he writes a whole bunch of potential gift ideas and information about you.

A dress you said you wanted, if you like gold or silver jewelry, favorite foods, flowers, etc. Sometimes when he's stumped he'll reference the list so he's able to put together presents for you.

Blaise also likes to write letters to you. Words of Affirmation.

It's easier for him to put it on a piece of paper rather than say it aloud.

You'll find little notes of encouragement in your bag before a test.

Notes telling you he loves you that he spelled to end up in your pocket.

He also includes letters in the gifts he gives you. Every single one to add his own personal touch to whatever he buys.

"I know I'm not a man of many words. Even though I've grown comfortable in my silence, I've still never found myself unable to articulate my thoughts into words. I've always been the type of person who was quick witted and knew the right things to say. But with you? With you all of my thoughts fade. You've driven me to stupidity. A silent idiot who can think of nothing more than how much I care for you. How much I love you. It may be hard for you to understand why I can't say this aloud very often. I can barely understand it myself. Just know that my love for you is always there. Even when my body falls, my love will live everywhere. The spot where we first kissed, first danced, or had our first date. Each of these places will hold our memories and our love. It'll make us infinite. Then we will live again and again and I get to fall in love with the best part of me over and over for the rest of all of our lives.

Happy anniversary, my love. I look forward to each and every one.

-Blaise"

Blaise Zabini | Committed Lover

Once again, Blaise doesn't fuck. He makes love.

He takes his time. Kissing you slowly, moaning as tongue slips into your mouth and his hands move to your shirt.

One by one he pops each button, taking his time to let his hands wander once your shirt is fully opened.

He doesn't want to rush, especially with you.

Like Mattheo, Blaise just enjoys the act of pleasing you.

He will spend ages tasting you, feeling you, bringing you to immense pleasure every single time.

He needs to make you cum at least 3-4 times before he even considers himself.

And then he'll lay you down gently, looking into your eyes as he gently brushes the hair out of your face. You're perfect.

He reaches down and grabs ahold of his length, moving it through your folds before positioning himself at your entrance. His eyes stay on you, looking for any signs of discomfort. Is this alright? Are you okay?

Blaise's number one priority is to make sure you enjoy sex the entire time.

Blaise is far from vanilla though. In fact?

...Blaise LOVES to be dominated

A SUB!!!!

When he's on top he doesn't talk a lot, even with you. It’s just a lot of moans and sighs. His main focus is on the feeling of it all and making sure you’re okay.

When he's a bottom???

VOCAL!! SO VOCAL!!

How does it feel pretty boy?

Ahhh! AH! I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. Please fuck me! I'll be good! I promise!!

I don't know, Blaise. Only good boys get to fuck me. Do you think you were being a good boy?

Blaise had an attitude with you earlier. He was having a bad day and rolled his eyes at you when you asked him a question. You don't even remember what you asked. You just remember the look on Blaise's face when you raised your eyebrows at him. He knew he shouldn't have done that.

Now he was held down, your tie comfortably around his wrists as his arms were positioned to stay above his head. Your hand was wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly. Too slow.

I'm a good boy! Fuck! I'm your good boy! I'll never do it again! Just plea-Oooooooh fuck.

You had your back turned to him, ass in his face as you pushed yourself down on his long, hard cock. You began to bounce, going to his tip and dropping down, your skin slapping against each other with movement.

Did you forget your manners?

Your head turns slightly to look at him. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, mouth pressed together as he struggled to hold himself together. Not like you were making it any easier.

I-I. Mmmmmm...Ugh! Thank you!

You're welcome, baby.

It’s such a contrast. Seeing the once cool demeanor Blaise demonstrated crumble as he turned into a blabbering and whimpering mess for you. Only for you.

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drdemonprince · 5 months

Note

have you defined the meaning of “white woman brain” anywhere and if not, can you? /gen

Many Black and brown feminist writers have discussed this phenomenon and I encourage you to seek out a lot of writing about this subject, because there are a variety of perspectives, but to distill it, white woman fragility brain is a phenomenon that is not exclusive to either white people or to women, but is especially common among those who can weaponize white womanhood, and it consists of the following qualities:

A view of oneself as a helpless victim that is constantly in threat of being attacked, especially by strangers (even though statistically, this is not the case).

A refusal to consider oneself as capable of doing harm to others, especially a lack of consideration toward others' body autonomy or consent. (even while being highly concerned about one's own autonomy and consent).

A generally passive or passive-aggressive orientation toward the world: seeing oneself as a romantic or sexual object to be approached, but never wanting to initiate (or feeling that one never can), never feeling comfortable directly communicating displeasure or one's desires, believing that others instead must guess at it. (and then resenting people when they don't, but never expressing it).

A tendency to cry, excessively berate oneself, complain about being made to feel "unsafe," or give up when criticized or challenged, especially when challenged by people of color.

A tendency to associate a person's body type with how much of a threat they are. For example, feeling unsafe around people with penises and expecting a social space to accommodate that fear to cater to you, a fear of people who come from cultures where it's common to speak loudly, a fear of those who are large, assertive, and/or darker-skinned.

Instinctive fawning-type responses to stress, and a pattern of feigning happiness, agreeability, and ease when one is not genuinely feeling it, and expecting all other people (but especially other women) to feign happiness as well, paired with a deep-seated resentment of anyone who violates this illusion and expresses any negativity (being especially punitive toward women of color).

Instinctively "smoothing over" conflict between other people before it even begins, even when healthy conflict is necessary and not at all your business-- often performed by gossiping behind other people's backs, triangulating information when it is not yours to share, asking people to alter their behavior in order to avoid a reaction from somebody else, presenting your concerns as if they were somebody else's ("what will people think!"), tone-policing the airing of grievances, derailing hard conversations with more light-hearted topics, and excluding people who are known to be candid and assertive.

Here are some articles on elements of the phenomenon and why it is so dangerous:

Now, I single white cis women out a lot when I am describing this phenomenon, because they have the most to gain from exhibiting these qualities, but make no mistake: this is a pattern that many types of people can and do use. I have seen white trans women use white women's tears to silence critique. I have witnessed women of color being passive-aggressively derailed and silenced by a Black manager who was in a position of institutional power over them. Multiple of the women who sexually harassed me in the story linked above were not white. And LORD knows I see plenty of t boys falling back on this shit, as well as cis men from wealthy backgrounds. It's a mindset that has deep colonial roots and we all must be on the look out for it in ourselves and others, and we must be vigilant in uprooting it.

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yikesmary · 10 months

Text

BEDTIME ROUTINE — jeon wonwoo x reader

summary: where you loved times like these with your boyfriend, wonwoo.

notes: book boyfriend wonwoo is back! i wrote this completely out of the blue so apologies for any mistakes. also this went into a direction i didn’t expect it to go to, but i love it so much. it might be my favorite fic i’ve written so far on this blog.

join my taglist!

“You’re staring at me again,”

“Can you blame me? I have a beautiful man as my boyfriend,” you teased, enjoying the pink blush that was developing on Wonwoo’s cheeks.

“I’m not even doing anything, I’m just reading a book,” he told you.

“To look this good and still be doing something so simple is incredible!” You overexaggerated, throwing your hands in the air dramatically.

Wonwoo playfully rolled his eyes, but pulled you closer to him, your body practically glued to his. It was nighttime, and your usual bedtime routine consisted of Wonwoo either reading a book or playing a game on his phone and you went on your phone.

But there were moments when you and Wonwoo felt particularly clingy towards each other, and sometimes you found yourself falling asleep to Wonwoo’s voice as he read aloud the book he was reading while cuddled up to him. He didn’t mind whenever you fell asleep as he read, because he knows how much you loved his voice, so he takes it as a compliment.

“How’s the book so far?” You asked, resting your head on his chest, recognizing the book as the one you gifted to him on his birthday.

“It’s good, I’m glad I finally found the time to read it,” he smiled.

“I was worried whether or not it was a good book. I didn’t know whether or not you were going to like it,” you said.

“It could’ve been a book that had the same word printed on the pages hundreds of times and I’d still read it because you gave it to me,” Wonwoo said.

“Don’t be silly,”

“I’m serious! I keep everything you give to me,”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenged.

“The bookmark you made me on our first date, I still use that. The letter you wrote me on our first anniversary, and the bracelet you made with Joshua for me while you were drunk,” he recounted.

“Really? You’ve kept all of those things?” You asked, and he nodded.

“We live together, how have I not seen these things in the house?”

“Because I hide them in places you’d never think to look,”

“Like where?”

“There’s a reason why I haven’t told you! It’s a secret,” he said, and you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“It also helps that you’re small and there are places I can reach that you don’t,” he teased.

You gasped and said, “I would move if you weren’t so comfortable,”

As if to ensure you wouldn’t move, Wonwoo moved you even closer to him, if that was even possible. In the middle of the conversation, you didn’t realize that he closed the book and put it on the nightstand that was on his side of the bed.

Silence fell between you, neither finding a reason to say something. You just enjoyed the moment between the both of you while Wonwoo was fiddling with your fingers with his hand, in deep thought.

“Do you have anything from when we first started dating?”

“I do, but since you won’t show me yours so I won’t show mine,” you said, playfully twisting your head away from him.

“How about this, I’ll countdown to three and we both get the stuff from our hiding spots. That way we don’t reveal our locations,” Wonwoo negotiated.

“Deal.”

“One... Two... Three!”

At the final number, the both of you tried leaving the bed, but because of how close you were cuddled together, the farthest you were able to go before falling was the floor of your bedroom. It wasn’t a far drop, but it was funny enough that both you and Wonwoo erupted in laughs and giggles.

You had struggled so much trying to get up with laughing and trying to detangle yourself from your boyfriend that by the time you had managed to stand, you were practically out of breath. But that didn’t deter you from your mission, so you tried moving to where you hid your stuff.

Spotting the box that was labeled with your name, you grabbed the box and dashed back into the room. Wonwoo would never look through something that had your name on it, since for the most part, neither of you felt the need to mark anything as your own since you guys knew whose belonging belonged with who.

So, if it was labeled, there was a purpose and Wonwoo would never violate your privacy like that.

By the time you arrived in the bedroom, Wonwoo was already on the bed, his legs crossed and waiting patiently with his box. You got on the bed and sat right across from him in a similar position as you.

He moved back so you had enough room to put the box in front of you and that was when the both of you exchanged looks and then without saying anything, switched boxes.

You opened the box and were both happy and touched to see the exact items that he had described beforehand, with more things that weren’t mentioned and you didn’t realize he kept them.

When you looked at him, you saw that he looked a bit confused about the items, so you decided to refresh his memory. “That ticket was from we went to the aquarium together, the picture is when we went to that one petshop and you couldn’t stop playing with the cats,”

He smiled at you, remembering those moments. You were about to say something else before a tiny, brown, leather book caught your attention inside of Wonwoo’s box. You took it out and showed it to him asking, “What’s this?”

At the question, Wonwoo turned sheepish. Then he said, “When we first started dating, every time we went out somewhere to eat or drink, I’d write down what you ordered so the next time we went there, I could order for you. Eventually, I memorized everything so there wasn’t a need for a book,”

You felt like you were in school again, feeling like your middle school crush just confessed to you and love was everything at that age. Putting the stuff to the side, you moved to kiss him and your hands were on his shoulders.

When you pulled away, you decided that the kiss wasn’t enough so you peppered him with kisses on your face. “That was so thoughtful and sweet of you to do. I love you so much,” you said, placing one final kiss on his lips once more.

He was only able to smile like a lovesick fool in response, which he was.

You looked at the clock and were surprised to see how late it was. “We should go to bed, it’s late and we should’ve been asleep an hour ago,” you told him.

“Maybe we should make this a part of our nighttime routine,”

taglist (crossed out means I wasn’t able to tag you): @belladaises @smileyneos @xuenihao @winterpaos @wonhuiful @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @itsrachelsplace @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @minghaossv @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @yoonzinoooo

#seventeen fluff #wonwoo fluff #jeon wonwoo fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #wonwoo fic #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo imagines #seventeen wonwoo

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 5 months

Text

So I'm The Villain (Take It All series) - Max Verstappen

Current/Ex!Lewis (also massive age gap)

Summary: Lewis dating a woman in her early 20s was controversial, but he promised her nothing would ruin what they had. What he didn't expect was for the Dutchman who took his title to take his girlfriend.

This is for the girls who love a bit of controversy and definitely love a bit of villain!Max

Part 1 - When I Speak. He Listens.

Part 3 - No Point in Fixing It

Part 4 - Winners Always Win

Part 5 - They’ll Never Shut Up

Talking to Lewis wasn't as easy as Max had fooled her into believing. Which is not his fault by any means but Lewis assured her that if she just listened to him and ignored it then they would get bored and go away.

Y/n didn't seek Max out for help or his attention. So when they're in Brazil for a race that many dub as Lewis' second-home race. Of course that means y/n wanted to be there to support him.

"Y/n, how are you doing?" Max asks as her catches up with her walking through the paddock making her literally jump and straighten up a little.

"I'm good...how are you?" Y/n smiles softly while Max walks with her, keeping in step with her.

"Good. Did you speak to Lewis?" Max questions making her frown. "No?"

"I did. But he said what he always says." She shrugs with a softly sigh. "I just need to ignore them and they'll get bored."

"They never get bored." Max states almost bitterly earning a look from her. "I know I am his enemy. But I am also here as a friend if you need one."

"Thank you." Y/n smiles feeling like Max might understand her a little more than Lewis right now. "How are you feeling about Brazil?"

"I am a winner. I win." Max shrugs earning a laugh and suddenly dawns on him that he'd never really heard her genuinely laugh. At any point, close up or from a distance. The sound is so unfamiliar but it sends a warm shooting through him.

"It's good to see the confidence." Y/n states before spotting Lewis in the distance he it's fairly obvious he's spotted the two of them. "It was nice catching up. Good luck for the race."

Max nods stopping his steps as he watches her walk towards Lewis, waiting on the one gesture that will tell him his chances. The one gesture that will let him know what his likelihood to take this girl who deserves better. And by better he thinks himself as that on this occasion.

She turns back, looking at him with a lingering glance just before she reaches her boyfriend who doesn't look annoyed. But he could be masking the upset with a smile, pleased to see her.

But that look back at Max. He knows that's his invitation in to perhaps play to be the one she is more deserving of.

After all on the occasions that Lewis has fallen short in the past, Max has performed and came out the victor. This time it's not a matter of sport or points.

Admittedly if this goes wrong, if he ruined a relationship with no benefit to himself or even with no benefit to y/n. He hates to think that this all may end horribly and if he has a say, it won't. But if he's going to pursue a plan to steal another driver's girlfriend, especially Lewis Hamilton's girlfriend. He needs to be careful and always consider what is best for her before himself.

Lewis had a consistent weekend so far. P5 on both the race and sprint starting grids.

Y/n sits in the Mercedes garage watching the sprint race. Only 24 laps but Lewis ends up P7 by the end. Not a promising look at tomorrow, but they can use the data for the real points tomorrow and he still got an additional 2 points for the weekend that if the sprint wasn't happening, he'd not have gotten.

Yuki ended up ahead of Lewis. An AlphaTauri that is prone to mistakes and retirements beat the 7 time world champ. Sure it was only in a sprint but the media will rinse this.

Lewis doesn't even acknowledge her, annoyance as he makes his way to media and then to the unit for the debrief.

As predicted, Max won. Having made over an 8 second gap from the rest of the pack. Though it was only so small because Lando had performed well getting P2.

If Brazil is Lewis' happy place. He certainly isn't feeling it.

She wanders off deciding not to comment on the matter, not to try and force her company upon Lewis when he is clearly preferring to focus on the task in hand. Getting a win in Brazil. It's important for not only him but the team who performed well enough to get their only win last year. Sure it wasn't his win, but that doesn't mean it can't be this time.

"We have to stop meeting like this." A voice jokes as she passes the entrance of the Red Bull unit to find Max exiting just in time.

"You won the sprint." Y/n comments making Max hum, not sounding all that approving of her words.

"I did." Max states then looking around. "Where is Lewis?"

"In the debrief. I'm sure he'll be there all night." Y/n murmurs while Max raises an eyebrow. "He wanted things to go well today, but I think being beat by Yuki might have been a blow to the confidence."

Max looks at her sadly before she swallows and smiles at him shrugging the topic off with dismissal.

"You and Lando did so well though."

"The McLaren are closing the gap on us. I'd be surprised if they don't manage a race win." Max admits as they begin to walk together, y/n heading towards the exit of the paddock with Max. "I could give you a ride to the hotel if you think Lewis will be here late and just wants to be on his own."

"Oh, actually that would be great. I just need to grab my stuff." Y/n states then making Max nod before she rushes back to the Mercedes unit. Bumping into George as she heads back out, he's also on his way out. "Hi, George."

"Hey, where you off to in such a rush?" George questions before spotting Max and as usual, there's no hiding his thoughts in his expression.

"I think Lewis wants to be alone and Max offered to give me a ride home." Y/n states making George look at her for a moment, clearly processing if y/n is really doing this. But she's impatient and doesn't need one of George's judgemental looks until it's behind her back. "I'll see you tomorrow George."

George just watches her disappear with Max, who doesn't look back but there's no hiding his smirk of victory and George is uncertain of what do to.

Y/n ended up having dinner with Max in the hotel, since he discovered that she hadn't properly eaten today, before they divided and she ran herself a bath. Steeping in the hot water till Lewis appears and he's not the easy to read.

"Can I join?" He asks softly after nearing the tub and leaning over to kiss the top of her head before beginning to take off his clothes.

"You know you can." Y/n nods with a small smile before she finds herself joined by him, his body sitting and relaxing back opposite her. Not that it stays like that for long.

Y/n shifts forward till she's straddling Lewis, her intention to help him destress ahead of the Grand Prix being her priority.

"I'm sorry I ignored you earlier." Lewis murmurs before he kisses her collarbone. "It wasn't fair."

"I understand. It's ok." Y/n assures him before using one hand to cup his face. "You know there's a reason people still root for you here, why they cheer for you around the world. Even on your bad days, you have more support than anyone else on the grid. You don't always need to be so harsh on yourself."

"I need to stop taking it out on you. That's what I need to do." Lewis states making it obvious he has his own intentions for this bath and how he wants to end his day. "I need to take care of you and that's what I'm going to do."

And y/n believes him. Not just about tonight, but she's hoping these words mean beyond that. But only time will tell and maybe Lewis has to hope he's just not too late to save his relationship.

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fallingdownhell · 11 months

Note

Hello!! If your requests are open do you have any plans on writing something similar to genshin men forgetting your birthday but with different characters? :D maybe diluc and/or kaeya for example

Sure can do! Angst will always be my favourite!

Characters Included: Diluc; Kaeya

Content: gender neutral reader; hurt/no comfort; angst; the boys don't realize their mistakes; cursing; not proofread yet

Word count: 1,3k words

Enjoy the heartbreak<3

Diluc

Being with Diluc was exhausting sometimes. And sometimes, it felt like you were in no relationship to begin with. You knew that protecting the city and it's people was important to Diluc, but.. sometimes you just wished to be his number one...

Sometimes, you really wonder how you managed to stay in this relationship for three long years without any issue.. then again, its not like it has always been this way.

The first two years were amazing. Diluc was an attentive lover, always concerned about your well being, that you felt comfortable with him. Only recently did that seem to change. He had less and less time for you, always coming back home in the dead of night and left before you woke up in the morning.

You tried to deal with it somehow, since talking to him about it was apparently no option, seeing as he always pushed you away when you tried approaching the topic with him.

But today... today might just be your last straw..

In all the three years with him, Diluc has always made it a point to make your birthday a most special occaison. Telling you weeks in advance to clear this day up since he wanted to spend it with you. He always planned something different, but you loved it each time.

This year, however, nothing came from him. No notice to keep your calender clean, nothing.

You thought, that when you spotted him in bed next to you this morning, maybe you just thought wrong and he wanted to surprise you.

But when he woke up, no words of gartulations left his mouth. Instead, he simply got up, got dressed and went out again, but not before telling you that he would be back for dinner tonight.. which was a rare occaison as well.

You tried so hard to give him the benefit of the doubt.. going about your day at the mansion, going on a walk in the nice, afternoon soon as people from the Dawn Winery congratulated you for your special day. You thanked them, while trying to keep your composure.

Nothing meant anything to you when the person closest to you didn't remember it themselves...

Night came, and with it came dinner time. Adelinde took the time out of her day to prepare a full on five course meal, all consisting of your favourite dishes. You told her multiple times that this wasn't necessary at all, but she wouldn't have it. So, as fate would have it, you were now enjoying the food... however, alone.

Diluc has yet to show up, but not wanting to let the food get cold, you decided to just start eating.

Later on, you realized that the dissapointment washing over you didn't even face you anymore, having expected this outcome already.

So, you ate quietly, until the door to the mansion opened, revealing the owner of Dawn Winery himself.

"Diluc!", you exlaimed, standing up from your seat, a smile on your lips. He came after all...

But he immediately put a damper on your mood as he raised his hand, a deep sigh escaping him as he threw his coat off.

"Please, not now, (name). I'm exhausted."

With that, he went directly for the staircase, not even acknowloding anything else around him.

"But.. don't you wanna join in for dinner? There's a lot left and-!"

"I said, not now!", he suddenly yelled at you.

You were shocked, looking at him like a deer caught in headlight. Regret briefly washed over him for raising his voice at you, but he chose not to say anything. Instead, he turned around again and made his way up the stairs where he immediately went into his office, looking himself away from you again.

You watched after him, slumping back into your chair as he was out of sight. You tried so desperately to hold back your tears but they came crashing out of you as soon as you saw Adelinde leave the kitchen, a big birthday cake in her hands.

She gave you a weak, sympathetic smile as she sat down next to you on a chair, patting your back gently as you let the dissapointment sink in..

Kaeya

You were maneuvering your way through the many people in your living room, trying to get to your balcony, hoping to get some fresh air and clear your thoughts.

Lisa planned this whole thing perfectly. Keeping you busy the entire day with her while everyone else was preparing your surprise birthday party in your home.

You had not expected anything like that, especially not after the dissapointment you recieved this morning already. Kaeya has never once failed to remember any special day during your relationship. Be it a birthday, an anniversary or anything like that. You never had to remind him, he just always knew and was prepared.

So, naturally, you didn't feel the need to remind him that your birthday was coming up, thinking that he was already aware of that fact.

However, when you woke up this morning, everything was far too normal. He was still sleeping beside you, cuddling with you for a few more minutes, before you both got up and he left for work.

No congratulations, no gift, no nothing. He didn't say anything at all...

You were feeling kinda down after that, slumping around in your home.. That's when Lisa came over and practically forced you out the house. She congratulated you, then took you shopping, to lunch and so on.

She kept you busy the entire day and the incident with you boyfriend went farther and farther to the back of your mind.

That was, until you returned back to your house. Suddenly, the lights switched on before you could even do anything. People jumping out from all around, yelling "Surprise!", at you, while laughing at your flabbergasted reaction.

A surprise party.. now Lisa's behaviour made sense to you. Your mood lightened up, thinking that it must have been Kaeya's doing and planning.

You thanked everyone that came up to congratulate you, making small talk with them while trying to scan the people for your boyfriend. When you didn't see him anywhere, you went to ask Lisa about him, but she said she had no idea where he was..

This dampened your mood again, so you decided to get some fresh air, maybe that would help cool you off again.

As you were outside on the balcony, you saw Kaeya approaching your shared home. Excited, you went inside again to meet him at the front door. But when you opened it, you were met with a seemingly bad mood from your boyfriend.

Before you could ask him what was going on, he already started complaining. "Seriously? Are you for real?"

"What?", you just said, confused on what he meant. But that just seemed to frustrate Kaeya even more.

"So, everyone leaves work, leaving all of it for me to deal with, just because you decided to throw a fucking party? I've had a fucking exhausting day, (name). How do you expect me to relax with this many people here, huh?"

"I-It wasn't my-!"

"Oh, don't give me that crap! Who else if not you would plan such a thing, and in our house as well? You know what, I'm gonna leave. I'll sleep somewhere else for the night!"

And before you could say anything else, he had already turned on his heels and was walking away. You had no idea what this was about and what caused his outburst..

You were so confused about what was going on, but you felt the tears running down your face as you fell on your knees right there at the open front door while the party was still going behind you...

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theemporium · 2 months

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click 'here' to unlock the other boyfriends!

You had thought you were perfectly content with love being expressed silently until you met Nico Hischier.

For you, love and silence had always been interchangeable throughout your entire life. You weren’t sure when it clicked, when the realisation had been set in stone in your head and never to be argued with. You just knew that silence usually meant good things, that it meant positive feelings. At least, you liked to assume.

When it came to your parents, the silence meant there was no scolding or nitpicking. They were never shy at the way they pointed out your flaws, your mistakes, your errors. It was hidden under concerns and wishes for you to thrive, but the pressure just felt as suffocating and overbearing as them. The silence was a relief from the constant remarks.

In school, it was like the teachers and professors just expected you to do well. They saw a bright child, so the second the grades started to matter, the assumption was made that you would just thrive. That pressure returned, and you hated the disappointing and disapproving talks you would get if you did badly. Once again, the silence was a relief, it meant they left you alone and that was what you wanted.

It followed as the same in almost every aspect in your life: in your friendships, in your relationships, in your careers, in your achievements. Silence had become so intertwined with love, success and praise in your life that you knew nothing but.

Until Nico Hischier.

Maybe it was the captain in him, or maybe it was just the kind of guy Nico was. It was almost comical to think back upon the early stages of your relationship, when everything was so new and his words left you overwhelmed—but in a good way, in a way you didn’t think was possible.

“You didn’t have to wake up with me,” Nico said as he wandered into the kitchen.

Unlike you who was still in your pyjamas, he was dressed in some sweatpants and a hoodie—the Devils logo and his number standing out on both. His gym bag was dropped at his feet before he wandered over to where you stood by the stove.

It was early. Dreadfully early, in fact. And despite every cell in your body screaming for you to stay in your warm, cosy bed when Nico’s alarm blared for his early morning practice, you wanted to do a little something for him for once.

“I wanted to make you a proper breakfast,” you shrugged, letting out a soft sigh as he wound his arms around your waist, his chest pressed into your back as the warmth of him washed over you. “An apple and a protein shake isn’t enough.”

“It’s worked alright so far,” Nico grumbled, his head dropped to your shoulder as he watched you cook. “But thank you. You’re amazing, schätzi.”

You snorted. “You mean having a proper breakfast is amazing.”

“No,” he said, his voice firm but sincere. “I mean you are amazing. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

And maybe there was still a part of you that wasn’t used to Nico’s constant praise and affection. You could do hugs and kind acts and thoughtful gifts but, fuck, the words really got to you.

It just baffled you how easily the words could pass his lips. It came so naturally to him, so fucking easily that it made you question how you went your whole life having people struggle to even give you basic appreciation but this boy seemed to be able to praise you for something as simple as making him a meal. But it went beyond that.

Nico did it with everything.

You look gorgeous, baby, that dress was made for you.

Fuck, schätzi, doing so good f’me. Just like that.

I’m so proud of you.

You’re doing the best you can, baby, you’re so strong.

He wasn’t shy about his appreciation for you. He showed his love in so many different ways that made him the absolute perfect boyfriend, but the words that left his lips were the most consistent and—though you didn’t have the courage to say it yet—your favourite.

“You’re a sap in the mornings,” you commented, because whilst you were used to hearing them, it would still take time to fully accept them and not deflect instantly.

He knew that. If anything, he thought it was adorable. It prompted him to do it more often just to see how flushed you got, just to see the way you were somehow caught off-guard every single time.

“Maybe you should wake up with me more often,” Nico retorted, swaying your bodies together in the chilly kitchen. “I could use a shower buddy.”

You snorted. “You would never make it to practise on time.”

“That is a sacrifice I’m willing to make,” Nico shrugged, but you could hear the grin in his voice even if you couldn’t see it.

“You’re gonna set a bad influence, captain,” you teased, shaking your head.

Nico let out a low groan. “Don’t start calling me captain, I have to leave in fifteen.”

“Think of it as motivation to do well,” you countered as you plated up your breakfasts and lightly nudged him so he would allow you to place them on the breakfast bar. “I’ll be in bed waiting for you.”

Nico shot you a look. “You’re a temptress.”

You grinned back.

“A gorgeous, sexy temptress that I can’t wait to come back home too,” Nico continued, pleased at the way your face flushed in response.

“Dick,” you grumbled but you happily accepted the kiss he placed on your cheek as he thanked you for the breakfast.

And, much to his delight, you were in bed waiting for him after he had come home from practice, eager to climb in with you.

#nico hischier #nhl #new jersey devils #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier fic #nico hischier one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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dollwrites · 1 year

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𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 — 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!cadet!reader, masturbation ( him ), handjob, oral sex, facial, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ originally posted on 10.11.2022 do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ fingertips by kita klane

you weren’t supposed to see this.

just turn around, go back to bed, and pretend you didn’t see your captain touching himself.

the words kept repeating themselves in your mind, over and over, but your legs refused to move— your feet refused to carry you away from the cracked door you hid behind, and your eyes refused to look away.

if he catches you watching him, there’ll be hell to pay. but even that, the probability of your notoriously calloused captain doling out a punishment so wicked that you would rather be eaten by a titan, was not enough to spur you to stop watching when Levi moaned. thin brows knit tight together, he was leaned against the wall, his uniform trousers shoved down around his thighs, the hem of his shirt bunched up and clenched in his teeth, and even in the pale moonlight, you can make out each and every pad of strong muscle underneath his ivory skin as it contracts when he breathes, or when his hips jut forward to meet his furious pumping. his eyes are closed, but his countenance isn’t soft— it’s contorted in pleasure, and there’s a rosy tint to his cheeks. “Fuck.” he hisses against his teeth, and your face is aflame.

he must have thought that he was the only one awake.

clenching your thighs in a feeble attempt to ease the tension building in your lower half, your eyes are wide and unblinking. they scour every inch of him as if he were placed on display just for you. his fist gliding up and down, kissing his base briefly only to careen upwards and massage the swollen tip. he’s thicker than you expected, nested in a bed of thick, dark hair and etched in bulging veins. you drink in the visage— every throbbing inch, up to the reddened, plump head. he was gorgeous. sinfully so.

your own fingertips gripped the door when his thumb ran over his slit and his head dropped back against the wall with a snort of air through his flared nostrils. you had to wonder if he was always so rough with himself, fucking his own hand at a velocity that made you dizzy ( and incredibly jealous of his palm ). the brutal self treatment seemingly stemmed from a habit of needing to finish quick, and you could imagine he’s very rarely able to savor it. you’re suddenly longing to give him all the slow, skillful worship he deserves, with your tongue sliding over your lower lip, you imagine the way he might taste upon it, and your core soaks through.

another muffled groan, and this time your fingers twitch— wanting desperately to delve into your panties and tease yourself to his rapid pace. it was so, so wrong. you knew that, but you rub your thighs together to ease the nerves between them and bite down hard on your lip.

he was driving you mad without even touching you.

you could watch his hips work, rocking to a quick, consistent rhythm, fucking his fist, all night long. if only you hadn’t forgotten you were leaning against an old, wooden door, that moaned when you pressed yourself into it harder to get a closer look, and his eyes opened, sharp, and cut to the doorway.

you were made before you even fully registered that you’d given yourself away.

“Spying on me, cadet?” he asks, his voice still thick with lust. you hadn’t even noticed his shirt was no longer gripped between his lips, but hanging in a wrinkled slump against his solid abdomen.

“No!” you answered, maybe a bit too quickly, stumbling against the door, but you grip it tight, hoping to use it as a barrier between you and a very angry Levi. “I mean… I mean no, sir, captain.. Levi… sir…”

his expression doesn’t change. “Don’t lie to me again.” he warns, “Were you watching me?”

your cheeks were on fire, and you so desperately wanted to look away, but Levi hadn’t bothered to pull his pants back into place, or even cover his manhood. instead, he kept his grip at the base. you nod, bashful, and stutter, “I’m so— so sorry, I knew I shouldn’t have, and I didn’t mean to, I just heard something so I came to make sure you were ok—“

“Did you like it?”

your mouth hangs open, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. surely, you hadn’t. surely, he hadn’t asked that. “W—what?”

your eyes were glued to his cock, and you watched his thumb slowly, gingerly caress a pesky vein near the head.

“Watching me.” he elaborated, his countenance expressionless, eyes as cold as ever, but they were glaring right through you. expecting an answer. “Did you like it?”

“I…” you’re hopelessly distracted by the gentle stroke of his thumb, and the way he twitched with each swipe. “Y—yes, sir…” it was hardly a whisper, but you were much too humiliated to speak any louder. finally, you force your gaze to avert, and you stare at your bare feet and shaking knees. “I’m so sorry, I won’t… I never meant to—“

“Are you going to stand all the way over there while I finish or are you going to get in here and help me with this?” he was asking through his teeth, teasing the sensitive head with his thumb like you’d watched him do only moments before, and your stomach did a cartwheel— knots bundling up within your gut. your eyes flicker upwards, nervous to see if he was just testing you, but he was leaned back again, shoulders resting against the wall, and his fist curled tight around his base and dragged upwards, stroking himself hard and slow. when he sees the perplexity plastered on your features, he answers for you. “Come in and close the door.”

it was almost impressive how swiftly your feet carried you into the room, and you push yourself back against the door until you heard a low whine and a solid thunk, but you were still just staring, wide eyed, at the scene before you. this was a dream. it had to be.

“Come over here.” he murmurs, sucking in a breath. his lids looked heavier than normal, his pupils blown out so his slate gems appeared abysmal. you do as instructed, and stop just a few inches in front of him. you open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it. “On your knees for me.”

“Yes sir.” if you would’ve dropped any faster, you might’ve hurt yourself. your knees find the hard, dirty floor and plant themselves against it. you stare up at him, your view of his face obstructed by his cock standing at attention, demanding to be taken care of. you’re completely entranced by it, both hands coming up, more than willing to take over for his, and he lets you, eliciting a soft sigh when you wrap them around his base.

you stroke slow at first, both fists working at the same pace in opposite directions over the slick, pulsating muscle. and you wanted to watch his face because you could hear him huffing and puffing like a starved animal, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the cock in your hands. you could feel it throbbing under your fingertips, you could see the tip leaking precum in lazy dribbles, and when you gave the swollen tip special attention with teasing, butterfly strokes with your digit tips, he jerked and squirmed. “Like this, captain?” you ask, but your eyes never leave his sex, your tongue flicking impatiently at the seal of your lips. you kept leaning closer, inhaling the rawest scent of him, and with each intake of his smell, you grew more and more tempted to gather the warm pre cum with your tongue just to know what it tasted like.

Levi’s jaw was practically sewn together, grinding, and he stares down the length of his torso at you. “Just like that.” he moaned in approval, and your pace picked up, boasting an inflated ego. you could tell by the way he twitched and squirmed that he was right on the edge. “Fuck, just like that.” you thought about asking him how often he did this, had his underlings get him off, but you could tell this wasn’t the usual. if he had been in this position at all before now, it would’ve shocked you. Levi Ackerman was a man that took care of himself, and you knew that by how sensitive he was to your touch— he wasn’t accustomed to anyone else.

but he caught you staring; he must’ve seen the hungry look in your eyes, or the way you licked your lips, because he shifted, one hand dropping to hold your chin, urging you to meet his hazy gaze. “You want to suck it, don’t you?” he asked, and the husk in his baritone struck straight to your core. there was a very obvious damp patch in your panties, threatening to soak through your trousers, but even your quivering cunt was not enough of a distraction to take one ounce of concentration from pleasing your superior.

you nod, practically pleading with a puppy dog pout alone. “Can I… please, sir? Please let me suck your cock. I need to taste you.”

you could watch how his muscles tightened, teeth grinding when you begged. a hardly audible groan dies on his tongue, and his thumb eases between the seal of your couplet and urges it open, before he nods. “Open up, cadet.” you do as instructed, allowing his calloused fingers to prod inside your mouth and test your gag reflex, whilst you put both arms behind your back. your tongue hangs out of your mouth, dribbling saliva, but it isn’t long before his thumb and forefinger, now wet, grip your jaw to line himself up with your mouth.

the very moment his cock touched your tastebuds, your eyelids flutter in content— Levi’s taste was so damn addictive. with a slow rock of his hips, he nests in your cavern, and the first couple of inches glide in easily. your lips stretch around his thickness, and you moan. you’d never felt such carnal pleasure simply from sucking cock before now.

“Huh…” it’s a stuttered, raspy moan you never thought you’d ever hear from Humanity’s Strongest, and your eyes widen, staring up at him. “That’s it,” he hisses, falling into a steady rhythm that you were all too eager to lean into and meet. “‘S good…” bobbing your head to welcome as much as him as you could take without gagging, you wiggle the tongue pinned to the floor of your mouth against his most prominent vein, and you watch his head drop back again as he grunts in ecstasy. his hands blindly find the top of your head, and both rest there, guiding you into his quick tempo.

Levi’s pace was a difficult one to keep up with, and you found yourself whimpering and clucking every time his broad tip battered the back of your throat, but you noticed that he never once pushed you down— never forced you to take more than what you were willing to, and his hold was gentle enough that you felt like you could pull away if you needed to.

but you wouldn’t dare.

not until you were satiated.

when his cock twitched against your tongue, and he hummed, “I’m ready,” it was breathless and needy, but he was petting the top of your head, pumping himself into your mouth, “how do you want it?”

reluctantly, you lean back, letting his cock slip from your swollen lips with a vulgar pop, but your hands are back on him in a fraction of a second, pumping fervently, and you lean close, swirling your tongue around the tip as you pant, and look up at him, “Cum on my face, captain.” you urge, squeezing him. he moans, hips stuttering, “Paint me… Claim me—“

Levi grabs your face again, whilst the other grips himself at the base and he comes apart, letting you milk the orgasm out of him until streamers of his release hit your chin first, then your lips, and your cheeks. you squint to avoid getting any in your eyes, but you’re smiling, elated to be given exactly what you asked for, and your tongue scoops some of the warmth from your lips and draws it into your mouth. you moan in utter delight, and only let go of him when he pries your hands off and steps back, breathing ragged, but you can’t be too upset, you’re savoring all he’s given you.

“Thank you, captain.” you purr, sitting back on your calves. your knees were much too weak to try and stand up right now and you knew that. “Should I—“

“Get cleaned up and get some rest, cadet.” Levi said, and you were amazed at how steady his voice was; his breathing had already evened out. “We only have a few hours left before we have to move out.”

you pout, mildly disappointed, but nibble on your lip, and wait until he looks back at you with an arched brow.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I can’t sleep in here with you?”

his expression changed, for a split second Levi Ackerman looked surprised, then he scoffed. “Cute, but no.” you’re forcing yourself to your feet, using your finger to guide the rest of his essence into your mouth, and he’s watching, dressing himself, before he looks away and mutters, “But… maybe you can sneak away from the squad every now and then.” he could see your eyes light up even in the dim glow of the dusky room, and he added quick. “Don’t make it a habit.”

you beamed as you skipped over to the door, determined to do the exact opposite.

#levi attack on titan #levi aot #levi smut #levi x reader #levi #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan x you #attack on titan x female reader

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kquil · 2 months

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DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER TWO

02 : SHOPPING (1/2)

CHPT. SUM. : life isn't easy in the Black Family household, you need to get out, you also need a new wand. Sirius does too as well as a few other things; time to go shopping.

LENGTH : 5.8k

TAGS. : hurt/comfort ; tantrums ; fluff ; sirius needs a hug ; regulus needs a hug ; original walburga can eat shit ; orion can eat shit too ; reader being an amazing mother ; walburga deserves to get bullied ; floo powder travels ; diagon alley shopping time~ ; stupid wands ; arson ; goblin OC ; sirius being a sneaky baby ; regulus follows in his older brother's footsteps ; misbehaving things ; Ollivander cameo~ ; please excuse any grammar or spelling mistakes for now, this wasn't really proofread (╥﹏╥) i'll go back over things later on!

← PREV. | 01 : ARRIVAL | SERIES M.LIST

7th August 1971

It didn’t take you long to uncover the upsetting affairs of the ever proud Black Family.

There was nothing to be proud of. It sickened you to witness the blatant disdain Orion had for his own two sons, neglecting them by leaving for work early and returning only to lock himself up in his home office. The bastard even overlooked his sons when he was present at home on the weekends and the few words he spoke when addressing them dripped with cruelty and ignorance. The only positive thing you could take from his absence, however, is the fact that the boys didn’t have to tolerate his silent callousness for long periods of time.

But that meant seeing the effects of Walburga’s despicable conditioning of the two boys, which was far worse.

It was clear that Regulus wanted to be favoured and compiled to his mother’s whims, desperately seeking her approval. Whenever his small, pale hands reached out for you, no matter how miniscule, you accepted with open arms and a warm smile. His precious look of surprise, and shy happiness at your unexpected acceptance, never failed to make your heart shatter, even more so that his reaction never seemed to let up.

Before every apology, before every small request, before every word he breathed in your direction, there was an evident hesitance, a slight fear in his motions that made him freeze up for a moment. It was a consistent action that you hoped, with time, would disappear for good. You love having Regulus for your son but you don’t want him to do things just because you said so. In your previous life and before your dreams were shattered, the one thing you looked forward to about having children was the development of their own personality, the becoming of their own individual person. That’s what you want for Regulus, and Sirius too. But you know that Regulus was the main son who was deprived of that pleasure in the original timeline so you wanted to give him that extra bit of care. It was your responsibility, now, to give him that happiness.

Sirius was the same. He wanted approval too, you could see it so very clearly in his piercing grey eyes – it’s an innocence he shares with his younger brother. There’s a glimmer of hope in his grey pools, hidden behind the need to protect Regulus and the mix of anger and sadness fostered by the horrendous parents he had the ill-fate of having. You want to bring down those walls but you know it’ll take some time. Nevertheless, you clung onto the hope present in his eyes and used it to cultivate your firm resolution, like a garden to the foundation of a new life and a new future. It was needed, especially when Sirius lashed out, his fury, dangerously ablaze like a forest fire set on destroying everything in its wake.

It was no secret that the original Walburga expected nothing but excellence from her only two sons, so it didn’t come as a surprise to you that she had hired private tutors for them leading up to their official education in Hogwarts. They were to study French, Etiquette, Literature, Cursive/Calligraphy, Maths and all of the wizarding basics. All taught by private tutors that delivered material like stale bread on a plate and leaving them with the terribly tedious assignments in the most ridiculous amounts. You understood why Sirius worked himself up to such a tantrum. However, he was not setting a good example for his younger brother, who clung onto the long flowing skirt of your black dress and pressed himself against your legs for comfort.

Tenderly, you combed your fingers through Regulus’ neatly permed hair, lightly scratching at his scalp while the two of you waited for Sirius to lose energy and simmer down enough for you to finally get a word in. It only took a few minutes but Sirius was soon left heavily panting, his expulsion of rage gone but still evident in his harsh glare and aggressive stance.

Silence took over the room as you continued to hold his gaze, determined to handle the situation calmly but firmly and without any interruptions – you hope to God that your amateur imperturbable charm worked on the door of the room; it was the weekend, meaning that Orion was at home and he wouldn’t take too kindly to his equally hateful wife being screamed at by his disobedient son.

“...it’s not fair…” Sirius grumbles under his breath, pouting defiantly as his small hands ball up into clenched fists by his sides.

“I know it’s not fair, Sirius,”

“Then—!” Sirius cuts himself off when you raise a brow at him, your mouth pressed into a tight, thin line.

Some part of you understands why Sirius would lash out so aggressively; he was practically drowning under the workload he was set by his individual tutors, drowning under the expectations the original Walburga had set on him and he didn’t know how to express his frustrations. Along the way, you’re sure he’s bottled up his emotions and tried to get on with things, evident by the littered chaos of papers at his feet, marked by his neat handwriting. Such beautiful handwriting for such a young and troubled boy. With his deadline fast approaching and his assignments piled up to his ears, Sirius lashed out in the violent and wrathful way he’s been exposed to since birth. You want to be soft and comply with his demands but you know that’ll foster bad habits in him. Conceding now will only teach him that it’s okay to become violent when he’s frustrated and that it’ll work to help him get what he wants. But that is a false reality. And you will not perpetuate the illusion for him.

He’s your son now, he’s your responsibility and you’re going to teach him well. So you stand firm but composed. You’re setting an example. It isn’t until you sense the fear of what may happen slowly seeping into Sirius’ much smaller frame, that you step forward and take action.

In your slow approach, Sirius flinches and snaps his eyes tightly shut. His clenched fists slowly come up to shield his chest as his shoulders tense despite the visible shiver that runs up his frame.

A small voice calls out behind you, “Mother–”

“Regulus, this is between me and your brother. Please don’t interfere,” Regulus bites his lip into silence but watches on with fearful eyes. He wants to step in and hold his brother close, the same way Sirius has done to help comfort him many times before but, no matter how strong his will, Regulus didn’t move. Why? Was it the fear or… was it something else?

Once close enough, you kneel down and gently grasp Sirius’ small shoulders. You try not to wince when he falters from your touch and tries to withdraw but your grip keeps him securely in place. Inhaling deeply and slowly, you begin to speak in a stable voice and with strength. It’s best to start from the beginning.

“Sirius…” you wait until he meets your eyes, hesitant and afraid but stubbornly brave, “what’s wrong?” he sends you a look of exasperation, you can read him easily ‘why are you asking him that when he’s been screaming at you about it?’, “I will not listen or engage in any conversation with you if you ever speak to me that way,” you set the boundary and pause to make sure he processes your words clearly before continuing, “I will only listen if you talk to me like a normal person, if you just scream at me like that then I can’t help you,”

Sirius wants to scoff at your words; how could he possibly trust you to help him if you’ve never been worthy of his trust? But he glimpses the image of his worried, younger brother over your shoulder and bites down on his sharp tongue. Regulus has grown a small but reluctant trust for you ever since the day you fainted. It was naive of him but Sirius could never fault his younger brother for anything. He’s always been the one with the softer heart between them so it was natural for Regulus to be more trusting. Deep down, Sirius wants to have that same level of give within him too.

But it was hard. It’s hard to trust…

…that didn’t mean he didn’t want to, however. One prolonged look at his brother was all he needed to have the courage to put that trust forward.

“It’s unfair,” he repeats, clearly this time.

“What’s not fair?” you prompt, your features softening along with your tone as Sirius wills himself to continue. You haven’t lashed out at him yet, you haven’t even threatened to launch a curse at him, that was a good sign.

“All this work…” he gestures to the scattered papers he had thrown to the floor in defiance. Now, he looks towards them in shame and quickly diverts his gaze from the mess.

“I see,” you hum as he looks onto you with eyes of wonderment, unable to comprehend that you were taking in his complaint so graciously – he isn’t used to this type of gentleness but he likes it… “I’m sorry you’re under so much pressure to do this much work,” Sirius holds his breath as hope builds up within him, its light is radiant but he tries to ignore it, “I’m sorry it’s been so hard for you–”

“––I tried to do well!” Sirius defends, his eyes desperately searching your own for some form of understanding. It was your warm smile that eased his panicked heart… in some sense, he’s beginning to understand his younger brother; his mother looks far prettier when she’s smiling.

“I know,” you cup his face with one hand and lovingly caress the skin of his cheek with your thumb, “you’ve worked so hard. Thank you for trying, Sirius,” you watch tears pool at his eyes and coo comfortingly as you bring him into your arms and tuck his face into your shoulder, “I’m so sorry, my darling. I promise to talk to your tutors about the workload,” your gentle assurance and unfaltering promise eases his worries and Sirius allows himself to melt into your embrace. You’ve never called him that before. And never in such a loving or warm tone. It makes his heart feel lighter and his breath stutters in disbelief.

Can he keep you like this? He wants you to be like this forever.

Sirius doesn’t know how long he stays wrapped up in your kind embrace but he’s brought back to his senses when he hears shuffling and quickly feels his younger brother being brought into the hug too. Lighthearted and optimistic about the world’s goodness, Sirius brings an arm around his brother, who reciprocates his actions, and the three of you stay there, basking in each other’s warmth and comfort. This is nice.

“Regulus,” Sirius feels his brother stiffen up beside him, but only for a moment, it almost goes unnoticed before Regulus tucks himself further into your arms, “I’m sorry for the burden of work on you too,”

“I-It’s okay, mother,” alas, his younger brother is too forgiving but Sirius knows it’s a trait that he loves his brother for.

“Do you like the amount of work you’re doing?” you question, doing your best to keep your tone neutral and only slightly peaking in curiosity.

Regulus pauses for a moment, contemplating his answer, “I wouldn’t mind less work…”

His answer makes you laugh, the sound feathery and light, it makes the two brothers stare at each other in wide-eyed disbelief. They’ve never heard their mother laugh before. It was obscure and strange but a pleasant sound, something that they want to hear more often from you.

“Then it’s settled, I’ll be having a word with your tutors,” the two boys release a sigh of relief and you feel Sirius melt a little more into your arms, “so you can leave your work alone for next week entirely,” their shock doesn’t go unnoticed but you continue, “I’m so proud of both of you for working so hard,” you didn’t want to rush things but you couldn’t help yourself. Slowly and gently and with all the love you could muster, you lean forward and press a kiss to Sirius’ forehead and then do the same to Regulus.

They were stunned into silence as a pink hue rose to their cheeks, their wide, unbelieving eyes staring up at you in the most precious way. They look so adorable; you want to capture this image of them in a photo to keep forever. You can practically hear their racing hearts trying to beat out of their chests as their eyes swim with a child-like astonishment and wonder. They’re just two precious little boys who deserved better than the miserable, tragic fate J.K fucking Rowling wrote for them. And you were going to stop at nothing to make sure their futures were happy.

Warm with happiness, your soft smile remains as you gently usher the two into the living room to settle down and relax for the evening. However, the little bubble of merriment you had cultivated with the two boys was promptly ruptured by the sour, disgruntled face you happened upon as soon as you opened the door.

Tucking the boys’ suddenly tense frames into the folds of your skirt, you address the intruder, “Orion–”

“What was all that racket?” he demanded, his voice booming and frightening enough for Regulus to begin shaking faintly against you. It made anger spike in your chest but, thankfully, Sirius was there to reach out and immediately begin comforting his younger brother. You made sure to keep the boys out of Orion’s gaze but it was no use, “Sirius! I know it was you! HOW DARE—!”

“We’ve already settled the issue so there’s no need to talk about it further!” you interrupt through clenched teeth, chest puffed out angrily as you hold the boys’ tense but trembling figures into your legs, hoping to calm them as best as you can. Curse that imperturbable charm! And curse that stupid wand! You haven’t been able to cast a single, functioning spell with it and your excitement for the world of magic had quickly dwindled into abhorrence, stemming solely from the stubbornly disobedient wand, “I’m sure you have a lot of work to do so excuse us!”

You hurriedly lead the boys away from Orion and to the living room as Orion snarls, outraged at being dismissed so flippantly but confused over your sudden change in demeanour. For now, he settles on observing the changes no matter how subtle and returns back to his office.

“THAT WAND ISN’T WORKING FOR YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE NOT IT’S TRUE MASTER!” Walburga screams in your head and instantly makes you clutch your temple in distress. Settled in the living room sofas, Sirius and Regulus observe you with worry. Walburga doesn’t seem to know any other way of communicating than screaming and it has led to multiple black outs and fainting spells. It also meant that you kept having to drink the same disgusting healing potion over and over again and you were sick of it!

Seeing the same symptoms again, the two boys fidget in their seats, wondering what to do to help, “Are you okay mother?” Regulus asks as you muster a small smile.

“I’ll be alright, Regulus, thank you,” your response isn’t enough to convince Sirius and he whispers something in his younger brother’s ear as you set to deal with the annoying bitch stuck in your head.

‘Shut up you insufferable bitch, is inducing a headache your only talent?’ Your words and foul language make her sputter pathetically and it makes you laugh under your breath. Your moment of joy and satisfaction is short lived, however, as Regulus summons Kreacher just as you fall into darkness once more.

The fucking bitch…

8th August 1971

Because of that evil bitch stuck in your head, you had to ingest another phial-full of that horrendous healing potion. Not only that but the stupid wand still isn’t working for you.

“How can I survive this hell hole if I can’t even use magic?” you grumble into the open air as the evil bitch cackles resembled the sputtering and coughing of a broken-down car, mixed with the discordance of an off-tune violin, erratic, grating and screeching.

‘Can you shut up?!’ you shout in your head, already fuming, ‘Your laugh sounds like it could kill someone! No wonder you’re so miserable and your only sons hate you!’ that finally got her to shut up and you could think clearly again. Even though the situation was annoying, It made you snicker. Being able to bully Walburga into silence made those awful healing potions worth it. You’d drink a hundred healing potions if it meant delivering justice for you two boys.

Now that she’s silent, you observe your desk. Thankfully, you also had your ownhome office. The previous Walburga had a planner specific for Sirius and Regulus’ studying plans, diet and calendars full of ‘X’s with small notes beside them on disobedience and the subsequent punishments. It was sickening and you wanted to burn the thing but you resisted. If you want to act convincingly in front of Orion and plan slyly, you need to know as much about the original Walburga as possible so you keep all her planners, journals and scraps of paper intact. You’ll study their contents thoroughly in due time. You still have some major planning to do and you need to note down important dates to keep track of before you forget them. The start you’ve made has been decent, however, you know you need to rely on magic at some points and you wouldn’t be able to succeed in the current state of your wand. And it isn’t as though you weren’t able to cast magic; the first time you tried to cast a simple spell – the well-renowned ‘Wingardium Leviosa’ – you had set the flowers in the vase on fire.

You need an excuse to go out. As the Patriach of the Black family, Orion had the key to the Gringotts Black Family vault so you can’t just go out haphazardly. You also weren’t comfortable with leaving the boys home alone so you need them to come with you if you can.

With a sigh, you slump into the rigid desk chair and set about occupying yourself with mundane tasks. Perhaps if you indulge yourself in other, simple activities, you can come up with something creative. Stacking your messily scrawled notations of future plans, you begin to rummage through the desk drawers for a stapler or paper clip but come up unproductive. Nothing. Did wizards and witches not use basic stationary?... They had magic, yes, but surely…

Your internal ramblings come to an abrupt stop when you spot a famed crest sitting above a deep red seal. The crest features four familiar beasts, a lion, a badger, a raven and a serpent; at the very centre was an ostentatious ‘H’ — it’s a letter from Hogwarts. And you were just beginning to suspect its potential contents. The seal has already been broken and the letter slips out easily.

Words on the page read with nostalgia, it was as if you were watching the first Harry Potter film all over again and cheering at Harry’s liberation from his toxic aunt, uncle and cousin.

‘Dear Sirius Black,’ it reads and your heart stutters in both excitement and anxiety, ‘We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.’

“Term starts on September 1st,” your eyes snapt to the desk calendar, which had automatically crossed off the days. It’s a little early but that just means you’ll beat the academic year rush. With a smile, you take out the separate list of necessary school supplies and pair it with a small list of your own.

Perfect, you have your reason.

9th August 1971

Before travelling by floo, Kreacher came up to you and cast a simple dirt-repellent spell on you and your two sons. You were grateful for his foresight and thanked him graciously for doing so. Much like all the times before, your unexpected kindness makes the grumpy house elf falter clumsily but adorably as Regulus grins at your side and Sirius huffs with an exaggerated pout on his lips. He’s still ever so stubborn about the house elf but you’ve observed how Regulus has put in the effort to push the two together. You join in the gentle prodding through leading by example, treating Kreacher kindly and with respect. Bit by bit, Sirius has been following yours and Regulus’ lead. He’s not fully there but you smile at the little progress he’s made. It’s only been a few days after all and the results are optimistic, it makes your heart flutter and you look forward to the future with brighter eyes. Sirius had been buzzing with silent excitement all morning and Regulus was quick to join his older brother’s enthusiasm when you informed him that he was welcome to come and join you.

You set off to travel by floo first so you can wait for the boys on the other side and so they’re not on their own not for too long. “Diagon Alley,” you announce clearly and without a shake of nervousness in your voice, only feverish anticipation. In moments, you’re engulfed by green flames. The world whirls around you in a dizzying blur of colours and sounds, the sensation both exhilarating and disorienting.

Unlike Harry and the Weasleys, you appear out of the subsequent fireplace without a spec of dirt on you and smile as you stumble out to await your two sons. The adrenaline rush of it all makes your fingers tingle and your head feel light headed but your smile only brightens. You still can’t believe you’re really here, sometimes.

Sirius came next and then Regulus. However, despite their earlier excitement, it appears as though their spirits were dampened just before travelling. Now, they stand before you with pouting lips and downcast eyes.

“What’s wrong boys?” you ask softly, kneeling down to their level, it was purely out of instinct now. You meet them at their comfort as an equal rather than the other way around. It usually does the trick of consoling them enough to speak to you but this time is different. Their lips are tightly sealed.

“We’re okay,” Sirius says in a tone that makes it seem as if he was trying to convince himself that. You want to press further but relent with a nod. It would be better for you to let them talk at their own time. Hopefully, being outside with so many charming shops dotted around, they’ll ease up and smile again. Pressing a brief kiss to their temples, you lead them out to the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley.

The street was bustling with magic and mystery as you observe the scene with bright eyes. The atmosphere of the wizarding alley didn’t compare to the movie adaptations. It was much more charming and wondrous to observe in real life. And wasn’t nearly as claustrophobic as it was depicted to you. However, that may be due to the fact that you hadn’t left the school shopping too late and so the streets weren’t as congested as when Harry went school shopping for the first time. Nevertheless, your heart didn’t stop pounding in elation as you held hands with your two sons and set forth to your first destination.

“Our first stop is at a very important place, okay?” on either side of you, Sirius and Regulus nod, still silent as you lead them through the streets. The air was thick with the scent of potion ingredients and freshly baked treats from the nearby shops, a symphony of sounds and smells, it was a little overwhelming but you couldn’t complain, the tenor of the climate was still very addictive.

As if summoning your first destination, your eyes were drawn to the towering structure of Gringotts, the goblins' bank. Its grandeur was a stark contrast to the quaint shops lining the street, making it stand out like a uniquely different gem amongst a cluster of little treasures.

You walk forward with purpose now but still keep your strides short for the boys. Looking down you observe how they take in the environment around them, dressed like little princes with perfectly permed hair and glittering diamond eyes. Sirius had familiarised himself with the routine of the day, the first stop would be Gringotts to withdraw money to buy all of his school supplies, the second stop would be to retrieve his wand and after that, it would just be a matter of going down the list. It was a different plan to the usual fixed outline his parents were strict to follow in usual outings. Sirius would have been more enthusiastic if his father hadn’t forcibly pulled him and Regulus aside after you’d first disappeared by floo.

‘Don’t even think about dirtying the Black family name while outside. If I even hear a single word of your misbehaviour, it’ll be an entire day spent in the vault!’

His father’s threatening words echoed menacingly in his head, his mind like an empty cave except for the haunting remarks that bounced off its despondent walls. The only way for his father to hear of any misbehaving is if his mother told on them but… Sirius chances a brief glance up at you, only to be met by your kind smile. Quick as lightning, Sirius looks away with a clench of his hand around yours. His mother isn’t like that now, though…right?

As the three of you pass windows displaying cauldrons, brooms, and a myriad of magical trinkets, Sirius’ mind raced with possibilities. What spells would he learn? Who would he meet? And would he make good friends with them? What house would he be sorted into? He hopes not Slytherin, it was what his entire family had been sorted into but he doesn’t want to be like them – never like them. Would he be able to play Quidditch, his mother always used to say that it was too violent and rambunctious of a sport to be associated with. Will he like his teachers? Will he enjoy his classes? The future was a mysterious, unopened book, and Sirius, although slightly hesitant, still bound to expectations, was ready to turn the first page.

As you step through the towering bronze doors of Gringotts, a shiver of awe runs down your spine. The splendour of the entrance hall was breathtaking, with gleaming marble floors and towering pillars that seemed to reach up into the heavens – as opulent a building should be that holds secure a multitude of treasures and ancient artefacts whilst being guarded by a ferocious dragon.

Goblins, sharp-eyed and meticulous, worked behind large, ornate desks – tall and domineering. Their long, dexterous fingers moved swiftly as they counted coins and scribbled in large ledgers, busy but happily so when surrounded by so much gold. The air was filled with the clinks of coins and the soft murmur of transactions, bank-speak, typical and not too far from the banks of ‘muggles’. High above, the cavernous ceiling was illuminated by shimmering crystal chandeliers, casting a golden glow over everything, fitting for the amount of gold glittering beneath it. It was a complimentary union, one that oozed lavishness. Even the air smelled rich and you wondered if gold dust was dancing in it too. The atmosphere was one of ancient power and impenetrable security, safe and anchored. As you walked further in, you could feel the weight of centuries of wizarding history envelope you, it was unmistakably a place where secrets and fortunes were both hidden and revealed.

Approaching a vacant desk, you steady your breath and quickly recite your introduction in your head before elegantly performing it. You first drop into a low but graceful bow and repeat your greeting from memory, “Greetings Master Goblin, may your gold prosper and your enemies fail against your blade, I am Madam Black,” with bated breath, you wait for his reply, hoping that uttering your family name was enough.

“Madame Black, I am Filgus. What can I do for you today?” the goblin hid his surprise well. It was unusual to receive such a polite and formal greeting from the Matriarch of the infamous Black family. The surprise was pleasant but also carried with it a fair share of warning. Odd behaviour never bode well. Filgus was determined to not let anything pass, his pride as a Goblin demanded it be so.

“I would like to withdraw from the family vault,” you explain and hand over the key Orion had

“Very well,” Filgus accepts the key and moves to dismount his desk, “follow me to the carts,” you’re immediately reminded of the movie scene, where the speed and twisting passage of the cart made Hagrid sick, even as a half giant.

“Is it safe for the children?” you fret instinctively. Maternal instincts, a previously dormant part of your nature now expressed in the most spontaneous but opportune ways.

Filgus snarls in offence but bites his tongue as best he could, “I assure you Madame Black that Gringotts is one of the safest establishments to exist in the wizarding world,”

Not wanting to offend the goblin further, you nod with some hesitancy and keep your boys close. The fact that you worried for them made their little hearts flutter as their cheeks heated into a delicate pink hue. It was unusual for them to experience such care and worry but it still made them feel good. Turning to each other, they observe their identical reactions and bite their lips to keep from grinning too widely.

The journey to the vault was as winding and twisting as you remembered in the films. It was equal parts frightening and thrilling. The experience was exactly like that of a rollercoaster but without as strict of a regard to safety. If only the path was better lit, maybe that would have made the journey a little more pleasant.

“Here we are,” Filgus announces, stepping off the cart and politely asking for the lamp. You oblige and slowly follow him out of the cart, steadying yourself before you help Sirius and Regulus out too, “your key, Madam Black?” Filgus sets about opening your vault door as you turn to the boys and check their welfare.

“Are you alright, my darlings?” you ask in a soft whisper, kneeling before them.

In all honesty, Sirius had enjoyed the ride down, the twists and turns and perilous speed made his head spin in the most delightful sense but he’s grown to like you worrying for him more than that temporary thrill. So, with a pitiful look on his face, he shakes his head ‘no’ and slowly begins to stretch his arms open.

“It was scary…” Sirius whispers, taking advantage of the cold underground temperature to make his voice shake in ‘fear’.

“Oh darling,” you coo softly and bring him into your arms, “it’s okay, you’re okay,” Sirius smiles into your shoulder and allows himself to cling onto you like he’s always secretly dreamed of doing. This feeling of safety and security was one he didn’t ever want to let go of. Over your shoulder, Regulus gapes at the affectionate scene and, although it goes against his moral code of lying, he musters up the sly courage his older brother so easily displayed.

“M-me too, mother,” Regulus calls for your attention in a bashful whisper, “I was scared too,” your kind, understanding smile eases his nerves Regulus jumps into your arms as soon as you open up to accommodate his small frame.

This didn’t count as misbehaving, right? Only they knew whether or not they were truly scared or not…

The bell above the door tinkled softly, happily announcing your arrival as you pushed open the creaky, unassuming entrance into Ollivander’s, the most renowned wand shop in all of Diagon Alley. It made you giddy just thinking about getting to meet the whimsical shop owner and wand artisan.

Inside, the air was thick with the scent of wood and magic, a combination that seemed to tickle the very edges of your senses. Your fingers itched to grasp at wand, your nose scrunched up at the pleasantly ancient scent permeating the air and your eyes surveyed the room with an eager gleam. The shop was narrow and cramped, yet it felt infinitely deep, with towering shelves that stretched up into the shadows. Each floor to ceiling shelving unit was crammed with thousands of slender boxes, their organisation questionable but fitting for such an antiquated establishment. Dim light filtered through the dusty windows, casting a mystical glow over everything. The walls seemed to whisper secrets of ancient trees and magical cores, each wand holding the promise of a unique bond, waiting to be discovered and pledged to its chosen master. The air was thick with anticipation, and you could hear Sirius’ heart pounding with the thrilling but nervous realisation that among the wondrous collection of boxes, one held a wand that was meant solely for him. It would be special and unequalled to anything else – an incomparable affiliation

Mr. Ollivander, with his pale, incisive eyes emerged from the shadows like a wisp of memory, his movements as silent and fluid as a ghost, a jolly ghost supporting a fanciful smile. His gaze takes in your sons, to which he gives a thoughtful hum before fixing his stare onto you.

“Madame Black…” Mr. Ollivander observes you with open curiosity, peaking the interest of your two boys, their diamond grey eyes watching the interaction silently and with overflowing intrigue, “having trouble with your wand?” his quick deduction makes your breath hitch and your shoulders tense. The impish gleam in his eyes almost going unnoticed by you, “it’s very peculiar for a wand that has already chosen its master to change its mind, especially from a wand that’s so loyal,” he ponders aloud as Sirius and Regulus inch closer to your sides, clinging onto the fabric of your dress skirt as they heed Ollivander’s nebulous words with a hint of caution, “curious, very curious indeed... I could only think of one reason, an abstruse but entirely possible reason for such a contingency in a world of magic…” Ollivander leans forward and looks deeply into your eyes, his own dancing about in their search, for what, you don’t have a clue. But it feels as though he can see into your soul, the flicker in his eyes detecting the presence of another. He shakes his head, almost in disbelief but laughs merrily, easing the tension built up in the air, “not one, but two, I see…”

Your heart shudders in your chest. Did he know?

NEXT. | 03 : ... → | SERIES M.LIST

A/N : i would like to say that i was planning to delay this chapter update for a day or two since i was an absolute muppet to myself and decided to switch up events in the plot and oc introductions last minute but, thanks to @urmomw4ntsme (amazing username btw (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )) and their message about being excited for the update, i was lovingly and innocently pushed into getting the update out on time ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻) so thank you, my darling haha! i appreciate your perfectly timed, kind message. i hope you darlings enjoyed the read and forgive me for splitting this chapter up into 2 parts - i suppose i planned for too much in one chapter hehe~

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#sirius black #regulus black #marauders era fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders #harry potter fix it au #marauders era fix it fic #orion black #walburga black #sirius black fanfiction #regulus black fanfiction #sirius black fluff #regulus black fluff #divorcing orion black series

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caramelcleopatraa · 17 days

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x: finals are coming up, so i'm gonna be very busy, but i'm still writing y'all (this is the most consistent i've been lol) (excuse any errors of course) Hope you guys enjoyyy! leave comments... please. I love your comments.

content: Imani has a crush on Roman. Their friend group goes on live and her secret comes to the light. She thought that she was going to be rejected and move on, but things never go the way people expect. Roman Reigns x Imani, 18+ MDNI, oral (m recieving), cowg!rl, creamp!e

Imani loved weekend kickbacks. Time to chillax with her favorite people, and get her mind off of things. It was moments like these she waited for. Drinks and joints in rotation, and endless fun for hours to come. Jimmy, Jey, Roman, Trinity Talia, and Imani. She wishes that she was only thinking about the good vibes that circulated in the atmosphere, but she was focused on something else. It wasn’t like she was necessarily trying to focus on Roman, but it was inevitable when she could see him so clearly from the kitchen. She knew that having a crush on him could possibly mess up the bond that the group has, but he was so gravitating, He was perfect in her eyes. She basically textbook described him when Trinity and Talia asked her to describe her dream man: Tall, muscular, sweet, absurdly attractive, charismatic, humorous, dedicated. God, she could go on to name every single one of his attributes that she loved. She tried to brush it off as a mistake at first, but there was no part about this that was a mistake. He had a tight grip on her, and he wasn't even aware. She wonders what would happen if he felt the same way. If those pretty brown eyes she daydreamed about would reciprocate the love she was anxiously waiting to give him. She could only imagine all of the things she could do for him, to him, and provide him. If she had him all to herself, how they would spend their nights alone. How it would feel to be wrapped in his embrace. How it would feel to get lost in him between the sheets for hours, and repeat it again the next day. If she had him all to herself.

“WE GETTIN TURNT!” Talia raised her glass in the air and yelled out to her viewers, watching her through the small rectangular frame. Jimmy came around the corner with uno cards in his hands as the six of us gathered around the table. Roman, Trinity, or Jey would pop into the frame to answer a couple of questions while Jimmy shuffles the cards and Imani gathers multiple bottles to bring to the table. “Mani! They have some questions for you!” Imani joins her party, sitting the bottles on the table and scanning through the comments.

‘Do you get to go backstage with the bloodline?’

“Yes! It's amazing, I'm not gonna lie.”

‘Please do a makeup tutorial!’

“Maybe, I don't have a youtube channel.”

‘Seen any guys that have caught your eye?’

“A couple, but they ain’t nothin’ important.”

“Oh word?” Talia and Trinity both look at her with curious faces, but Imani just giggles and goes back to answering questions.

“Ooh this is a good one. Kiss, marry, fuck: Jason Momoa, Michael B. Jordan, and Roman Reigns,” Talia reads out loud. That question got everyone’s attention. Jimmy stopped fidgeting with the cards and Roman and Jey both put their phones down impatient for her answer. “Well?” Talia was definitely setting her up, and she could feel it. Thank god for her brown skin that covered her fastly spreading blush. “Do I have to answer this?” “Yes, you do. I'm intrigued now,” Trinity says, as Imani quickly takes a double take at the entire table to see them all staring at her. She sighs before surrendering and thinking hard about the question.

“I’ll… kiss… Michael B. Jordan, fuck Jason Momoa, and marry Roman Reigns.” She instantly regretted answering the question before Trinity pried at Imani to get out more information that everyone was itching to know. “Hmm, why marry Roman?” She quickly swiped her drink off of the table and took a long sip, hiding her face. In all honesty, she wanted to say that it was the easiest choice, but that would only make her sound suspicious. And that was not a conversation that she wanted to have in front of quite literally everyone. “I'm not interested in the other guys like that.” “So you’re interested in Roman?” ‘Wait- wait! Noo that's not what I meant!’

“No, I just wouldn't marry the other two men. It’s not that deep Trin,” Imani says, a failed attempt at dismissing the conversation. “You’ve never gotten this defensive before… don’t tell me that you in your feelings.” She could see Talia smirking at the corner of her eyes. She knew she had to stop this fast. “You’re reaching Talia,” Imani says, laughing to herself. “Oooooh Imani wants the Tribal Chief, huh?” Never in her life had she ever been more embarrassed. “Jimmy, for the love of god, please start dealing the cards,” Imani says, covering her face, her words muffled by her hands. Everyone laughs, finding amusement in her nervousness. She anxiously waited for Jimmy to start dealing the cards so this moment could pass.

11:27 pm

Several rounds of uno and spades passed, and the guests were slowly starting to make their way out. She noticed Talia, Trinity, Jey, and Jimmy momentarily texting throughout the night, which would probably explain why the four of them were explaining the consequence of Imani losing a couple of rounds. “Sooooo we thought of something. Don’t be mad! It’s just a punishment for losing so much,” Talia says, sticking out her tongue. “Your punishment is that you have to ask Roman to fuck you.” ‘ASK ROMAN TO WHATT!?!?’

Her surprised face told them everything they needed to know. “You'll be fine. Uce will probably be down to fuck either way,” Jey says. Imani gave Talia a death glare, making Talia laugh. “You’re trippin’ girl. Just approach him with the right energy and make him want to stay with you. I guess this answers the question of if you have a crush on him or not.” Before she could defend herself, Roman walks in from the restroom and the four of them are gone in the blink of an eye. ‘These trifling’ heifers’

“Guess they all left. I should be on my way out then. Thank you for the food and dr-” She steps in front of him, stopping him from exiting out the front door. He looks at her with confusion. “You okay?” Her heart was beating fast. She didn't fully think out what she was going to do after she stepped in front of him, but it was now or never.

“Fuck me.”

“...what?”

“F-fuck me.” She couldn't look him in the eye the second time. The pressure weighing on her shoulders was too much. But the thing that was racking her brain the most was how close they were. She felt like this was a disaster taking place in real time. She hears a soft chuckle, looking up to see him lightly smiling at her. “Was this your punishment for losing?” She nods, and his smile stays fixed on his face. “Do you want me to?”

‘...did he say what I think he just said?’

Her mind is searching for an answer, a reason to say no. But she can't find any. As embarrassing and confusing this was, she had daydreamed about this moment. Maybe he was just being nice and would give her a quick fuck to fulfill the punishment. That idea became her leading thought. “You don’t have to if you’re uncomf-” “Do you want me to fuck you Imani?”

‘Shit he’s not joking.’

She slowly nods, which prompts him to lock the front door behind you. Her head was spinning, trying her hardest to maintain her composure. “Ask me again.”

“Fuck me, please,” She says nervously, eyes returning her shiny tile floors. “I don’t believe you sweetheart. Ask me again.” His hand gently grabs at her chin, making Imani look at him. Once they made eye contact, she knew that she was done for. She was already feeling weak from just looking at him. She took a deep breath before finally saying, “Please fuck me Roman.”

He wasted no time pulling her into a heated kiss. Not that she minded. This felt like a wonderful dream that she didn't want to wake up from. Only this wasn't a dream, it was real life. She finally got to feel the body that she had been drooling over. Right now, he was hers, and she was going to make the most of it.

Her curious hands creeped along his captivating body while they explored each other’s mouths, dragging her hands up his torso from underneath his shirt. He pulled away from her soft lips to trail wet kisses from her cheek to her neck. “Not shy anymore huh?” She couldn't be shy. Her desire for him had completely taken over. “I really need you right now Roman,” She pants out.

“Bedroom?” She nods and takes his hand in hers, leading the way to her bedroom. The sway of her hips only made Roman more aroused, as he silently admired her body from behind.

They enter her bedroom and she doesn't get a chance to close the door before being pulled into his arms again, temporarily hoisting her in the air to lay her on the spacious bed. He pulls her into another messy kiss, setting his focus on getting rid of their bothersome clothes. He quickly tore his shirt from his body and she did the same with hers. Their lips connected again, moving in harmony. He started to make his way down her body, but she squeezed his shoulders, signaling him to stop. “I wanna make you feel good first.” Roman was surprised to say the least. He kissed her tummy and replied, “Are you sure?” She gives him a confident nod, with those big doe eyes and her beautiful smile. “Alright, what do you want me to do?” “Let’s switch places.”

She scooted to the side, giving him room to lay down on the bed. She crawled down to his waist, tugging both his sweatpants and boxers down. His dick springs out of his pants, finally free from cloth restraints. Her eyes locked with his before lowering down to lick the underside of him; from his balls to his mushroom tip. A wad of spit drips from her mouth and lands on his length, using her hand to lather him up. His soft hums let her know that he was feeling good, and she was determined to make him feel a whole lot better.

Her juicy lips start at his tip, giving small kitten licks before taking the tip in her mouth. Her warm mouth felt so good on his dick. He didn't know that Imani was this nasty. She gives him kisses up and down his shaft before taking him in her mouth again.

She didn’t waste any time trying to tease him. He was big, and filled mer mouth well, but it’s nothing she's never handled before. Before she continued, the warmth of her mouth left him once again. “Can you record this?” Just when he thought she couldn't get more nasty.

“Record?” She nodded her head. “Only if you’re comfortable.” “I’m more than comfortable,” Roman says, while reaching into his sweatpants pocket. He grabs his phone and opens the camera app, pressing record. “It’s recording, baby.”

She smiles at the camera, curling her fingers around the base of his dick and tapping him against her tongue. She takes him in her mouth again for the final time, keeping her hand put at the base. She bobs her head slowly, swiveling her head from left to right.

She keeps moving slowly, making sure to fit all she can in her mouth. Her hand that stayed curled around his base, moved in juxtaposition, stroking the rest of him that her mouth couldn't get to. “Goddamn baby, that mouth feels so good. I need that mouth around my dick all the time.” She moans in response, giving him vibrations that made him feel oh so good. She had him moaning and groaning. She didn't mind that at all. She got a big ego boost that he was so vocal from her mouth working its magic. She took note of every moan, every twitch, and any reaction he made. Right now, she was focused on his pleasure.

His grip on his phone tightened, trying his best to keep his composure. She moved her head faster, still bobbing up and down, and using her hand to stroke his remaining inches. “Ahh s-shit mama, you keep sucking my dick like that and imma cum in your mouth.” She looks at him, already staring at her every move while she’s giving him euphoria like pleasure. She moans around his dick again, feeling her panties dampen. Her other hand massaged his balls lightly. Her slurping sounds made him close to coming.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her. Those innocent eyes staring into him as he recorded her doing such lewd things. He tried his best not to tangle his hands in her hair and fuck her mouth full of him. But her mouth felt so good, and he wanted nothing more than to cum in her mouth. He couldn’t help himself when his hands disappeared into her hair, planting his feet on the bed and fucking up into her mouth. She put her hands behind her back, letting him use her as he pleased. His thrusts were quick, but soft, his balls slapping against her chin. “Oh fuck! I’m coming mama, ooh I'm comin’.” He kept her head steady while coming deep in her throat, and she accepted with jubilation.

She bobbed her head a few more times, trying her best to overstimulate him the most she can, until his hand grabs her chin, lifting her up. “Slow down princess,” He says, ending the recording. She crawls up to meet him, giving him a quick passionate kiss. “See how good you taste?” Roman chuckles at her boldness. “Your turn. Lie down,” He says, trying to sit up, but fails due to her pushing him back down on the bed. “I need that dick right now daddy.”

“You don’t want me to eat that pussy?” She runs her hand through her messy hair. “God yes I do, but I need you to fuck me right now.” Her eyes did more pleading than her words.

“I wanna record this too,” she says, looking down at his chest, tracing the intricate tattoo. He feels around the bed, finally grabbing the phone and reopening the camera app. “Can you prop it up somewhere? I want you to be able to touch me.” “Already on it baby.” He climbed back further on your bed, propping the phone up against the lamp on the nightstand. While he did that, she slid off her shorts and panties, throwing them behind her. He pressed record again, and instructed her to adjust herself so the camera could capture everything.

His hands landed on her ass as they both observed themself. His hands felt so good kneading her ass, and she saw his eyes drinking in every part of her body. He couldn't keep his hands off of her curvaceous body, and he didn't want to. “You like it?” Her soft hands massaged his shoulders, making him groan softly. “I love it baby, love this ass.” An unexpected slap to her ass made her jump. “You sound so good, daddy.” His hands move her hips along his dick, grinding her body against his.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” She shies away from his gaze, a sudden flash of embarrassment runs through her body. She had forgotten about all of her feelings of distress and nervousness and realized that she was running on arousal and adrenaline. “A-a couple of months.” He lifts her hips and grabs his length, rubbing the tip along her slit. A few rubs up and down her slickness before impaling her on his dick. They moan simultaneously, relishing in the mind numbing pleasure. “You been thinking about taking this dick baby?” She gives him small head nods, still captured by the feeling of him inside of her. His hands cupped her chin, turning her head to the direction of the phone, steadily recording them. His hands were full of her ass, moving her up and down his shaft slowly. His unsteady breaths and her elongated moans were harmonious. “Go ‘head then. Bounce that ass on my dick.”

Her eyes focused on him as she steadied herself, her hands placed on either side of his head. She throws her ass back, his thighs catching it every time. His eyes were still glued to the phone, watching her beautiful body on top of him. But it wouldn’t be long until he faced her again, her soft titties hanging in front of his face. She had daydreamed about fucking Roman, and she was finally doing it. It gave her confidence knowing that he couldn't keep his hands off of her body. Her facial expression told her exactly how she was feeling. It was almost overwhelming how sexy she was. Beautiful smile, sexy body, paired with addicting moans that made him want to fuck her all night long.

“Mmm~ look at you taking daddy’s dick. You’re doing so good,” Roman pants, grabbing at her breasts. His gentle praises and gruff voice was enough to make her cum. His dominating presence, his words, his touch. This man had her mind running laps. Even though he wasn’t putting in any effort, he was hitting all the right spots.

Her words were slurred, eyes rolled back, mouth wide open spewing salacious moans. Her hips slowed down, the constant rhythm created by her ass and his thighs meeting no longer lasted while she hid in the crook of his neck. Her body was decorated with a sheet of sweat that didn’t take away from her golden hue. “Look at me.” She rested on her elbows, locking her eyes onto his. Their faces were laced with lust, an unsatisfied want for each other.

His strong arms caged her in, preventing her from squirming or escaping. She was still catching her breath while Roman planted his feet on the bed again. He places a tender kiss on her cheek before fucking up into her. She grabbed on to any part of his body that could, her eyes fluttering shut. A harsh slap to her ass makes her scream in pleasure. “I said look at me,” Roman says, demanding her full attention.

“Ohhh- my god! You feel so fucking g-good!” Roman loved watching her unravel. How she screamed for glory while he fucked her. God, he could make this his favorite hobby. Making her cum over and over again. “Mhm- fuckk- keep talking to me baby.” Her mind was foggy. She could only focus on one thing right now, how good he was dicking her down. Roman was making her feel so good. She looked at his phone propped up on the nightstand again to see their reflection. Her ass rippled from his hard strokes. That sight alone had her ready to cum. “Shhit! I’m finna cum on that big ass dick!” “Yeah? You finna cum?”

Her nails dug into his broad shoulders, feeling a knot build up in her stomach. “Cum with me Imani, let me feel you cum around my dick.”

Her eyes shut as she came, her orgasm hitting like a dam breaking, sending waves of pleasure throughout her body. His hips slowed down, but still gave her deep strokes, coming deep inside her. High pitched moans and deep grunts filled the room. His hands lazily grab her hips, allowing her to move again. She reached to grab the phone and ended the video, dropping the phone somewhere as she laid limp against his chest. His thumbs worked small circles as they both caught their breath. “I’m gonna take a shower when I get up, wanna join me?” Imani hears him chuckle, still working small circles into her hips. “Nah, we’re not done. I gotta eat that pussy, Imani.”

If these were the punishments she got for losing in spades, maybe losing wasn't so bad after all.

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