#Nanami Kento lives on forever spread the word

[rodeorun]

"You know then, that the sight of him, the feel of him, will be with you forever, as you will be with him. That he is committing this sight to memory, so that it will sustain him when you are not there, when distance, violence, the implosion of your world by forces beyond your control are all that remains. But so will you." > That's what they call love after death, oh my god.

Nanami Kento: Relationship Headcanons (now a fic), Part 11

Warning: MDNI!! Explicit sexual content in this chapter. Details below cut.

Contents: smut, showering together, penetrative (vaginal) sex.

He holds you back with a playful grasp on your hips, but you manage to wrangle him into the bathroom. Every touch on your skin is an alluring little reminder of what awaits you, his fingers lingering, intimate. The resistance he puts up, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and wrapping small lengths of your hair around his fingers, bringing them to his lips, has you fighting every instinct to give in to his advances.

You have never felt attraction for anyone like this before, something you are gradually coming to terms with. It's almost as if there is some gravitational force he exerts over you, the gentle, bruising weight of his presence inside you, around you, something you want to hold so desperately against yourself that you feel an almost physical pain.

The water of the shower is warm and soothing against your aching muscles, the echo of your first orgasm still reverberating through you, the soft trilling through a tuning fork, readying itself for the strike that follows. Kento doesn't join you immediately. You brush damp hair away from you brow and glance back at him, and he is leaning against the shower door, taking you in, his gaze warm and unguarded. There it is; that look that you somehow cannot believe is directed at you, that kindling that leaves your lungs questioning their function.

You reach out to him, fingers stroking down his bare chest, leaving a damp trail of invitation. He feels powerful, weighted with possibility beneath your touch. His gaze clouds slightly, and he steps in, still nude. He has nothing to hide, not from you.

Nudging you slightly until you turn away from him, he embraces you from behind. The sheer strength lying latent in those arms of his, so vital, so filled with living possibility, makes you shudder slightly. You want him to embrace you like this on every day of your future lives, to use your shoulder as a support for his questing chin, to offer him the curve of your spine to rest his tired body against.

You can feel it in the growing firmness against your inner thigh, rising. He pushes you gently away from him, grasping your bar of moisturizing soap. Facing the wall, you feel rather than hear the movements he makes over the soft patter of the warm water on your skin, the slick sounds of soap being lathered over his hands.

He isn't tired now.

His grasp is sudden, firm across your stomach, caressing with strong, deliberate strokes in ways that make your body edge towards him and your breath catch in your throat. He spreads the lather across your torso, and you can feel the hum of approval in his chest as you lean back, surrendering to his attentions.

He moves upward first, covering every inch of your skin he can reach, slipping slowly over the flesh of your breasts, cupping and smoothing until he reaches the peaks of your nipples with a soft pinch. Tracing up along your sternum, he takes the soap to your neck. You tilt your head back as his fingers scrape along your collarbone, wrapping gently around your throat, breath hot in your ear. There is something there, a written  message against your skin, fingers tightening briefly, then releasing you.

He wants more. He is now comfortable enough expressing his desire to let you know this; that he wants you pliant, slightly submissive to him, worshipping you as he takes charge.

You can give that to him. Gladly.

You trace over his knuckles lightly, showing him that you're enjoying his attentions, then apply slight pressure. You want him lower, to give the same attention to all of you. He complies with a low murmur of assent, hands now bracing on your hips, squeezing the ample flesh there appreciatively, before moving lower. The power of his grasp as his fingers dig slightly into the flesh of your buttocks has you gasping, bracing your hands on the walls of the shower.

Th soft moan that leaves you at these attentions is enough to spur him on to the final stage of your cleaning, fingers gently tracing the outline of your labia before stroking slowly over, taking his time, spreading water over the already dewy arousal that has been building to slippery slickness down there.

He pays the same dedicated attention here as he does everywhere else, massaging, capturing your flesh in the comforting prison of his palms, pausing in between to replenish the lather he spreads over you. He kneels behind you, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed, quickly forgotten as his soft, damp hair presses again the back of your thigh, breath ghosting heatedly over your sex as he strokes down each leg, committing their shape to memory.

Your breathing is ragged now, but you maintain your position, just the way he wants. Something about your obedience in this small matter seems to be riling him up, quickening his own breath. He stands, turning you around to face him, finally, making sure that the warm spray catches you everywhere. You reach for the soap, to return the favour, but he stops you. He whispers against your lips, barely audible in here, in this cocoon of steamed glass and flesh on flesh.

"Don't worry about me. You have work tomorrow. I don't."

"Are you sure?"

"I can clean myself up any time. And besides ... I  want to take you again."

He pauses, and this is the first time he has spoken his desire with such directness, such possession, his eyes trained on yours with such need that you feel consumed by him. Leaving him tomorrow morning will be the hardest trial you've faced yet.

When he kisses you, all thoughts of tomorrow fly from your mind, scattering like wheat from a thresher. You are vaguely aware of his hands pushing open the shower door, of the care he takes such that you do not slip in spite of how close he holds you, the fact that he bats the towel away from your hand and seizes you even closer, engraving his answer on the shell of your ear with such startlingly primal need.

"Darling ... please. Want to feel you wet all over, like this."

He lifts you slightly, the damp wicks of hair on his chest grazing your nipples, wet hands catching and slipping on your thighs and buttocks, electricity building like charged static between your bodies. His mouth is so hungry, so sweet, so hot, and he is kissing you like he did that time in your office. But now, there are no clothes separating your entwined forms, no propriety that stops the way his hardened cock presses and slides with the urgency to mate against your folds, no desk preventing your precipitous journey from bathroom to the bed, guided by his reinforced strength.

He only pauses to tug the towel he's somehow maintained hold of beneath you, preventing the sheets from absorbing the dampness of your still wet bodies, and then he is on you. Your body is responding to him as if the rawness of your first orgasm had never existed, thrumming with the delight of fresh arousal, the need to be filled, grasped, taken apart, fucked until you can't take any more by this man you wanted above anything or anyone else in the world.

There is a moment of crushing intimacy, when his body is pressed so completely against yours that you can't imagine being apart from him again, fingernails drawing agonizing lines against each other's skin, and then something seems to click in his mind and he pushes himself up and away, a startled realization building behind the lustful haziness that has overtaken him.

"I ... wait. We need protection."

The tension releases from your frame in a breathless sound of protest, as he draws back hastily with a somewhat tortured expression.

"Kento ... please tell me you brought ... "

"Yes, my love, I did, just - "

You raise yourself slightly, watching the taut lines of his incredible backside flex as he marches over to the hallway where he'd dropped his jacket somewhere on the way to the bedroom. He snatches it up, and a quick rifle through an inner pocket produces the gleaming wrapping of what he's been searching for.

You cock an eyebrow at him.

"Just one?"

He glances up at you, and you watch with delight as that same subtle reveal of mischief in his natural stoic expression is echoed by the unfolding of a whole row of condoms, maybe six in total, as they tumble downwards in a joined section from the first.

"Of course not. Do I ever come unprepared?"

You purse your lips, shoulders shaking with laughter as he detaches one with a flourish and makes his way back to you, carefully removing the wrapper. When he reaches you, you sit up quickly, wrapping your fingers round his wrist, looking up at him from beneath your lashes, reminding him that you are also here to please him.

He takes a shuddering breath, silky, hardened flesh twitching in your palm as you unroll the condom over his length, stroking him with a gentle roll of your fist. His hand slips behind your neck, large palm rising until his fingers are entangled in your damp hair, tugging with eager, but gentle insistence. You allow yourself to be pulled back against the towel, moaning slightly as he covers your body with his, the slick coolness of the condom warming against your folds as he rubs, hard and intentional, against you.

He is panting again, losing himself in the sensation of you, taking control of your body further as he presses you into the mattress. You bless the instinct he has for pure sensuality as his skin, still damp from the shower, slides against yours, bringing you to the height of sensitivity.

Your legs open for him further, and he grunts, adjusting your position so that he can kiss you with messy fervour, rocking his hips against yours, drawing small cries and gasps from your lips. Your fingers are drawing lines of fire against his shoulders, begging him for more, and he complies. You are both operating on pure desire, fueled by an incredible need that blazes under your skin and out, over the shifting, press of hard and soft, wet and tacky, teeth and tongue.

He pauses, breathing hard, his hair tickling your forehead, and then, with agonizing slowness, presses his tip into your entrance. Your mouth opens in pained delight, body tensing reflexively, then relaxing. He is watching you with those beautiful hazel eyes, adoring, even now, misty with uncontrolled lust. He watches as he pushes further, as your head snaps back, a mix of scream and groan escaping your throat as he fills you, stretches you, feels you fluttering around his steely length in that contradictory mix of resistance and eagerness.

He is whispering soft, sweet nothings of encouragement and praise, shifting his hips, reaching down to grip your inner thigh and hold you open for him.

"Th - that's it, sweet love. Like that. Take me - oh. Oh fu - yes. So sweet. So tight. Let me - "

Your mind is barely functioning as he presses himself in, but there is enough coherent thought left to match the effort he is putting in to keep you with him, connected and focused on him.

"Oh God, sweet - fucking - ah. Angel, you're doing so well, I - "

"Y - yes, Kento, need you, need you so - please. Inside me."

"Right th - ah! Ahh, please. Oh God, like that. Want you ... want you, Kento. Stretch me like that - "

He is a large man, no doubt, and you can feel the full extent of that when the light scattering of hair around his base lightly brushes against your sensitive lips, cock bottoming out inside you, flesh bending and flexing hard against the yield of your soft walls. You are so wet that the slide of his entry pushes some of your slick out, and you feel it trickling down the side of you. He does too, and an explosive groan leaves him, his hips bucking forward in a way that makes you yelp and press your palm against his abdomen.

He isn't hurting you; you're much too wet for that, but he is slightly overwhelming, not just in sensation, but the idea behind this, that it is him, Kento, this deep inside you, his arousal keeping you stretched and open like this, his desire for you pressing you down into the bed under his powerful body. Panting, you meet his gaze, your own face flushed and drunk on passion, lip caught between your teeth, sweat now gleaming between the rapid rising and falling of your peaked, hardened nipples.

For the first time, you see Kento really and truly lose his restraint and control, even after everything you have already done with him.

He makes a sound somewhere between a moan and a rough grunt, hands closing like a vice on either side of your waist as he tugs you towards him, and then up, your back arching off the mattress under his guidance. He begins a slow, but punishing pace, drawing back and plunging back in, taking his pleasure, filling your mind with a white static haze that lifts and brushes against the edge of your awareness like a soft, lace curtain, blowing inward against you with every thrust. His movements inside you are a contrast to the uncontrolled manner with which his hands explore your body, greedy, desirous, taking everything he can.

And you'll give it to him.

As overwhelming as he is, you learn his body, his movements. You brace your hands on his shoulders, and he's strong enough to take your full weight, even as you all but hang from him. The arch of your back becomes a sinuous wave, rolling upwards to meet the press of his hips, his lips whispering the litany of a prayer into the curve of your throat before you undulate away from him, then back. It is a cycle of catch and release, the slick sounds between your bodies growing, sweat and the remaining dampness from the shower glistening on your skin and his.

His hands slide beneath your buttocks, fingers digging into your flesh, his grunts evolving to fully fledged groans and huffs. Neither of you is capable of coherent speech now, your movement reduced to that most basic and primal need, to be closer, closer, closer, deeper inside the very fabric of each other. Your eyes flutter open briefly, taking in his face between the dark lines of your lashes. Dampness is building at the corners of your eyes, but not enough to blur out the sight of him, the sinew standing out on his neck, the pureness, keen as a knife edge, of the ecstasy in his expression.

And at that moment, his eyes open, and you fall head first into the honey of that gaze of his.

Your perfect rhythm stutters, and you know it can't sustain itself forever, as much as you want it to. You can feel it in that wild stab of bone-deep pleasure, the heat building in your abdomen, the ache of your trembling thighs.

He pulls you towards him, moving backwards and you cry out as he presses somewhere new, deeper, in this sitting position. Your fingers scramble for purchase on his shoulders, and he soothes you with soft, wordless whispers as his pace slows, still buried inside you. You release him, hands flying behind you to find leverage on his thighs, lifting naturally off him until only the tip of him remains inside. You glance down at him, body quivering, the stretch and burn of him reduced down to the most beautiful fullness.

He looks at you as if you have brought the stars down into the bedroom, revolving around you both in an endless stream, and you know. You know then, that the sight of him, the feel of him, will be with you forever, as you will be with him. That he is committing this sight to memory, so that it will sustain him when you are not there, when distance, violence, the implosion of your world by forces beyond your control are all that remains. But so will you.

And you take the reigns he hands you now.

You bring your body down again, filling yourself with him. His hold on you is more supportive than guiding, and you bury him to the base, lips touching his briefly. You're close enough now to feel the deep, rumbling groan that bursts from him as you roll your hips, allowing his cock to slip out almost fully, before the return of your circular motion takes him back in. The stretch is even greater now, but you're riding him through it, using the muscles of your lower back to lift, swivel, release and again, and again, and again.

His moans become delirious, his arms looping behind you to pull you against him, so that every new movement of your body has your nipples brushing against the hard planes of his chest. The water of the shower has dried on the both of you, leaving new moisture in its wake. The slippery heat of you makes the most obscene noises as you take him, your cries building, building, like the billowing cloud of a dust storm against the horizon of your bedroom walls, a promise of blinding finality.

The world shifts, and you think for a moment that the pleasure has made you pass out, but then your back hits the mattress and he is above you again, snatching complete control away from you. And now his hands are beneath and behind your knees, lifting, and your cries are fevered, uncontrollable, as he drives into you once more. The hard drag of his sculpted abdomen against your pubic bone is pushing you steadily over the edge, your clit stimulated to an unbelievable peak of raw pleasure. Your fingers clutch helplessly at his chest before dropping, slipping around and behind him, dragging him further into you even as you scream for him to stop, no please, can't take any more, can't feel this, too much, its so good, love, love, love you, and -

The storm hits, and your body shakes like a leaf in a gale force wind, each shuddering wave catching you so hard that you can barely breathe, think, see, but you can feel. It's as if the synapse of every nerve has collectively fired an overload into the next, volley upon volley crashing through you as he calls your name, desperate, loving, pleading. You're unable to answer him, but your arms do the work for you, crushing him against you, fingers tangling in his soft, soft hair as you hiccup into his ear, dampness sliding down your cheeks.

The vice grip you have on him brings him down with you, and he roars in your grasp, powerful thighs trembling as his feet dig into the mattress. His chest is heaving against you, face twisted in such complete, unguarded bliss that you can't help the dizzy smile that breaks across your face. Something warm is building inside you, the tip of the condom swelling slightly. Kento plants his arms on either side of you, forehead resting against yours, the hot dampness of his exhalations spreading over your cheeks.

Is this what it feels like, you wonder, as he slumps slightly against you, careful even now not to place his full weight on you.

It is like this, that it happens? That the slide of his rough palm against your cheek, stroking away the moisture, becomes indispensable to you? That the heat of him, the heavy warmth of his body against yours, now so familiar, becomes an indelible mark on the canvas of your life?

It is perhaps here, in the glide of your hands across the broad expanse of his back, soothing the angry lines you've drawn there earlier? Is this how intimacy is born, and remains until we draw our last breaths, remembered forever in the rhythm of hushed, synced breathing, the secret veil that covers your tangled limbs.

This is how Kento becomes your lover, and you his. This is how he lays claim to your body, through every touch of his lips and hands, every stroke of his flesh inside yours. This is how you stay with him, until the small hours of the dawn, breathing in his scent, cradling his head against your stomach, whispering about a future neither of you can be sure about, but desire above all else.

This is how he kisses you, when the sun rises, burnishing his hair and eyelids with a patina of russet gold. The light pours through your fingers, spilling out across the forest-flecked tapestry of his soft, soft gaze and you are richer, in that moment, than anyone on earth. 

[screampied]

PARTITION! g. satoru

ৎ୭ sum. your sugar daddy, satoru’s worst fear happened. he fears you’re too much of a spoiled rotten brat. screw riding in his expensive private limousine—you wanted to ride something else instead. (him, duh)

wc. 7.3k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy gojo! au, age gap (early twenties + thirties), car sęx, bratty reader, unprotected, getting eaten out the window, tít job, reverse cowgirl, doggy, cunnīlingus, nanami cameo, slight alcohol consumption, size kink, cęrvix kissing, possessive themes (wearing waist beads w his initials), implied multiple rounds, he’s sooo whipped, bręeding.

➤ sd! gojo masterlist

“meet my baby here, sweets. charlotte.”

“satoru, what.”

as satoru had an arm slinked around your waist, brushing a thumb across the jewels that stuck against of of the many designer blouses he’s bought you within the past week, he hums. the two of you were staring straight at a limousine. it was icy blue like his eyes with a plethora of dark-tinted windows. to even top it off, it had ‘G.S limousine service, inc.’ carved into the side of one of the doors in bright, blue cursive.

you huffed, smearing your glossed lips together. “you named your limousine?”

“heh, well she’s yours now,” he hums, guiding you toward the slid open doors. “c’mon, there’s a club i wanna take you to. if we leave now, we can beat the press.” and satoru takes a peek at his gleaming, pricey watch. he helps lifts the back of your long skirt from touching the ground before you step in. immediately, you’re hit with flashing lights inside the luxurious car and its plush red seats.

“where to, sir.” a blond chauffeur adjusts his mirror with a sigh, taking a short glance at you.

satoru throws an arm around you, tugging lightly on his tie that’s tucked neatly in his suit. “ah, kento, meet my girl. and please—drive us to my private lounge,” satoru kisses your cheek as you sit, whispering in an impish, low tone. “buckle up, sweetheart. ‘s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

the seats were oh-so-soft, a violent hot color of maroon as the entire limo was lit up with nothing but dim flashing, flashing lights.

it was bright, the size alone was probably bigger than a simple normal bathroom. satoru saw you taking in the luxurious life like you always did, craning your head from left to right before peering at the empty wine glasses in front of you both.

“it’s so pretty,” you hummed, your head resting against his shoulder.

once you’re laid against him, you’re smacked with his signature loud cologne scent. it was always a scent you’d never forget, nor could you get used to.

it’s strong, making you take the citrusy manly aroma in silence every time.

with a raised brow, you look up at the white-haired man before timidly murmuring, “wait- what do you mean this is mine? like.. the whole thing?”

“yeah, silly girl,” satoru brushes a thumb around the center of your forehead in invisible circles.

you’ve grown to get weak with his tender touch every time. cerulean-iced eyes lock against you lovingly, and that’s when that cunning grin spreads at each side of his crooked lips. “think of it as an uh- surprise gift for the new year.”

with a pout, you open your mouth to complain. “satoru- last week, you just bought me-”

“a convertible, and i’d do it again in a heartbeat,” satoru whispers, planting another kiss near your temple.

your incoming words come to an abrupt pause, and the cute speechless look you gave him always made him hum in amusement.

one of the many things satoru liked- no loved about you, was that you were always so humble.

you were forever grateful, but you couldn’t help but be hesitant sometimes at how much he’d constantly spend for you. satoru continued to shower you with compliment though—constantly reassuring you that he wanted to splurge his money on you.

you were living the dream - literally.

embodying the life of a rich girl, a type of rich girl where you’d usually see in cheesy movies or sung in iconic songs by artists like gwen stefani.

even though it’s been a full-blown year, you’ve started to grow accustomed to the sweet luxury of being a sugar baby.

satoru gojo’s sugar baby.

but he wasn’t starting to see you as just his pretty ‘lil sugar baby though, that much was apparent.

satoru didn’t expect you to not only take his money but his heart too.

and he never minded.

he couldn’t put a price on that anyway.

“besides,” he grabs a clear, empty glass and an unopened bottle from underneath the fuzzy, red seat. with a flick, satoru removes the cork that is plugged near the top with just his thumb and middle finger. as he pours a small portion of wine inside, the velvet-colored liquid stains against all sides of the glass.

“what’s mine is yours, baby,” he takes a sip before sighing at the cassis flavor hits against his tastebuds, “ ‘s what my sweet thing deserves.”

as you’re still pouting, the limo continues to drive.

the windows were tinted, but it was clear as day when you looked through them to take a quick peel. as usual, the roads were quite busy with rush hour but it was a smooth ride nonetheless.

however though, you had to admit, you were getting a bit… bored.

satoru sat man spread, both of his wide legs taking so much unnecessary space before he contemptibly sighed again. with one of his arms still wrapped around you, you took a moment to take in his suave, handsome appearance.

he always was draped in nothing but tuxedos—

after all, without the whole sugar daddy side thing, you sometimes forget how satoru was a literal well-known businessman.

he never really went into the specifics of his work, but you knew he was the CEO of some private company.

satoru was a very powerful man, a man with a big net worth … but an even bigger heart.

the shoes that satoru wore were dress shoes of his own brand, of course. in the luminous, glittery lights of the inside of the limousine—the shoes were visibly spit-shined from top to bottom. his suit’s dark black, and the handkerchief that stuck out of his front chest had the imprints of your lipstick on it.

of course he kept that.

his hair..

it’s messily ruffled but somewhat presentable, slicked back as usual with a faint side part. over time, you started to notice how he was growing facial hair too.

it’s subtle, and you’d have to squint but you saw it. you saw how specks of white hair were trying to form down near his chin.

it was attractive nonetheless, and the thought of satoru growing a stubble had you squeezing your thighs together in shame.

after all, he was in his early-thirties so he was bound to grow some facial hair at some point. he’s always been a well-shaved man, but the image forever plagued your mind.

“yeees, sweets.” he snaps you out of your little fantasm, the near-empty wine glass still in his hand. he sits the expensive bottle of ‘screaming eagle’ near the limo’s bar that was covered with dozens of tiny, pretty rhinestones.

“h.. huh?” you stammer, blinking thrice.

shit.

the way you stared at him was like a deer in headlights. caught red-handed!

that same wry grin that stretched so slyly pried at both cracks of his lips before satoru tilted his head. “you’re starin’ y’know,” and you felt his hand placed on your thigh. “is my baby bored?”

“a little,” you admitted, hearing the loud screeching of tire wheels and screaming horns of other cars in the background.

only satoru could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world..

slowly, satoru dragged his pink tongue over his upper lip which was a bit damp from the scarlet-colored wine.

you sucked in a raucous breath - your thoughts turning more ‘n more filthy by the second.

his lips.. they were so perfect, naturally glossed, and forevermore had a plump downward curve. you could stare at them all day, and your eyes widened once a drip of wine started to trickle down the right side of his lip.

“ooh- excuse me. guess ‘m a bit messy today,” he throatily chuckles, feeling the coldness of the red droplet race down his skin. “would you be a doll ‘n lick that up for me, sweetheart?”

“okay-” you comply right away, positioning yourself on his lap.

satoru titters, cocking his head lazily toward the left as you get comfortable. cute, he thinks.

he could already tell how eager you were. also, he didn’t tell you the duration of the ride but it was probably about a good hour.

like hell could you even wait that long.

it felt like time was so cruel - standing still as you inched closer and closer toward his face. satoru laid man spread the entire time, eyeing you closely with his gaze never leaving yours.

he paws a big hand near your waist, hearing your pretty airy breaths pick up.

“stop looking at me like that-”

“aw, is it a crime to stare at my gi-”

satoru’s fatally silenced with a kiss.

it’s a rough one, and you couldn’t wait to run your tongue across the remnants of cherry-flavored wine that now started to drip down his chin.

it tasted sweet - a spicy cherry flavor, and you moaned once his knee aligned itself between your thighs.

his thigh was so bulky too, even underneath the lanky, slender slacks he wore. satoru was a particularly ripped guy in general — you knew his workout routine like the back of your hand, and sometimes he’d even let you do sets with him.

(sets that mainly consisted of you sitting on his back while he did push-ups orrrr sitting on his abs while he used barbells in his private gym)

“mhm~” you moan against his lips, hearing the competitive sounds of teeth rudely smacking against each other in vigorous sync.

each tongue’s on a dangerous mission, desperately trying to dominate the other and you couldn’t help but melt.

your twisting, hot tongue started to wander, creating a slippery snail trail near the crack of his mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip. “sa- satoruu.” you’d breathe, one hand giving his tie a needy, impatient pull.

“heyyy, you know i don’t speak whine,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips for a second.

your lips were already swollen, slickly shining with saliva that could’ve been an easily replaceable substitute for lip gloss. “use those words, sweetheart,” and it was like the more he spoke, the deeper his voice seductively pitched.

the knee that still rested between your sprawled open legs didn’t make things easier either. “tell me what you want ‘n maybe i’ll give it to ya, hm?”

with a huff, you mumble a soft, “you-”

“well yeah, me silly! elaborate for me though.”

“i want- i want you.. i want all of you satoru. right now,” you go into more detail, leaning in to paint a slope of wet kisses down his neck. satoru’s collar was a bit unkempt—some exposed skin showed above his collar which you then brought upon yourself to attack with kisses. “pretty please.”

“hah- but.. you already have me,” he inhales, groaning once he feels you starting to grind against his lap.

satoru’s touch was pure static..

his fingers couldn’t help but mindlessly roam, tickling against your bare skin that protruded through the minuscule squares of your ripped fishnets.

the stare you two shared was just so intimate, and he could almost already smell your lusty, loud arousal..

“mhm- y’know, what i want too?” satoru huskily whispers against your ear, grunting as your hips slooooowly rubbed against his visible boner.

hugely, it stuck out through his jet-black slacks. leave it to you to always make him hard.

“tell me.” you reply with a chastened frown, sliding a hand up his loose button-up. your hand enters underneath his shirt and his skin is so warm that it feels like his entire body is on fire.

right away, your curious palm gets a taste of his hardened abs that were nearly akin to the texture of a damn brick.

rigid, flexing muscles of satoru’s relax at your touch before he grabs a nice chunk of your ass.

“oh, nothing! ‘m just a.. ‘lil thirsty, sweets..”

♡ ♡ ♡

“ohmygod-” you’d squeal, cupping a clammy palm over your mouth.

when satoru said he was thirsty, you surely didn’t expect him to have you hanging out the window with your ass perfectly perked out.

with a single hand, he pulled up your skirt, raising it to the brink of your waistline while dragging your pretty lace panties to the side with a single thumb.

you were partially hanging out the window - safely though, he’d never let you fall.

satoru had an arm wrapped around your waist, one hand sliding down your thigh. vehemently, his tongue swirled circles around your clit before giving it one looooong suck.

his lips puckered, and he could already feel your hips starting to stutter against his mouth.

“mng- ‘toru,” you’d heave, wriggling your ass around his face. the tip of his nose started to rub up and down your slit too, and he’s shamelessly getting a whiff of your candied mess.

he was always so nasty, proudly spitting on your pussy, lapping it up before it dripped onto the thousand-dollar seats.

“mhh- wiggle that ass a little more for me baby, dance with my.. haaah- tongue,” he whispers airily, thumbing a fat finger near your pulsing clit. satoru found it so cute how you’d pulse every time he’d smear slippery circles around your pussy.

you just couldn’t help it!

you’re sucking in each ‘n every breath, sinking the edges of your teeth into your bawled knuckle to suppress your moans.

a strong gust of wind strikes you as the car continues to move, and you’re just meekly smiling at the cars that pass by.

from their points of view… the drivers are just seeing some random girl slightly hanging out a halfway-lowered limousine window.

in reality though,

you were getting eaten out while dozens of cars speedily drove past you.

through your slightly blurred peripherals, you saw satoru’s chauffeur who you remember hearing him address as ‘kento’ earlier, giving you a peer through his side-view mirror. he had his hands firmly on his steering wheel, scoffing to himself with a head shake.

he mumbled something under his breath as he looked away, focusing his browned eyes on the talking GPS that read him the directions to the destination.

from your sweet, repetitive moans, you couldn’t exactly make out what he said but from a quick read of his lips, you’d probably guess it was something like:

“i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

as you’re still hung out the window, your legs part a bit - causing your eyes to widen.

satoru’s slurping you clean, skipping frisky plump fingers down your thigh before cupping his plump lips around your pussy. his head, it moves back and forth, ferociously shifting side to side like a damn madman.

you probably looked soo stupid. your mouth stayed open the entire time with your jaw forever dropped—dangling like an earring.

“fuh- fuuuck,” your trembling voice pitches higher, and you claw a hand near the back of your ass.

tightly gripping at a piece of your ass, it fits around your hand entirely before you turn to look back at satoru.

already, his chin’s got a pretty coat of your juices pouring down his jaw. his tongue was just hungry, wanting far more than just a few sips of his expensive screaming eagle..

you were far sweeter than any beverage, and satoru continuously took big, big gulps.

he treated his lips like a straw, pursing them to suck before slurping every single drop of you clean until you could barely hold your legs open.

“mhm- look at alllll this pretty fuckin’ ass,” he groans, removing your hand that was gripped on your rear.

with a whack! he hits it, humming at the cute ‘lil jolt of your shimmying body.

your skin jiggles in his face instantly, and you feel his curving tongue precisely slow its frantic pace down by the second.

there….

the tip of his pointed tongue stretched itself so far out that it clicked itself against your precious g-spot. “mng- spread y’rself wider, baby. ‘m not done with my.. hah- drink.”

“suh- sssatoru,” you’d drag out your whiny, pathetic words.

your brows formed into a furrow as your hands grabbed onto the edges of the rolled-down window. sweaty, perspiring fingertips imprinted the fogged glass as he licked every wet orifice thoroughly.

thankfully, some music was blasting in the background—seemingly drowning out your constant, pleading whines and whimpers..

satoru’s designer tie even gets a bit wet - you’re drip drip dripping, tears of glossy slick pouring flawlessly from both sides of your legs. he brings a thumb toward your hole, feeling your cute wriggles before spitting down your pussy.

slowly, the webby string trails a straight, sloppy line down and he licks it up — removing his thumb and starting at your hole before lapping his tongue down the bottom part of your pussy.

he’s wholeheartedly feral - animalistic, working his tongue until your brain turns into mush.

eventually, you ended up crawling back into the spacious limousine and landed on your back.

with your legs still spread, satoru lifts your thighs, continuing his feast. “mmph- get back here, sweets. ‘m not haaah- done,” he’d jibe each time he’d squint to see your cute weak pulse up close.

you’re impatient - desperate for your release so much that you could almost taste it..

it tasted sweet with a bit of tang, and the more you fantasized about your inevitable orgasm— the more more more you were starting to blank out all on his tongue.

“mnh- attaaaaa girl, let ‘toru get a nice good sip.” he’s still slurping you, a few excess juices smearing against his cheek.

satoru’s long, white lashes flutter open and close as he relishes in your treacly taste.

you just couldn’t stay still though.

with the way your hips cutely tossed ‘n turned each time his tongue delved inside of your sopping cunt, he’d think your middle name was ‘squirmer.’

time drags by for a looong time, not as long as satoru’s tongue though.. not by a long shot..

it flicked its way through each spot, munching proudly against your clit before your tummy tucked inward. your brain haywires, and with your mouth wide open — the only sounds that escaped were small, labored breaths.

you’re cumming, and your lashes frantically blinked at so many blinks per second. your muscles that were once tense relaxed as you’re finally succumbing to pleasure.

you squealed out that final, harmonic battle cry before your head plopped into the edge of the limo’s seat.

“fuck- fuck, fuuuck,” you’re whimpering, repeating the same swear like a broken record as you feel him grab ahold of your writhing hips.

his tongue’s length curved its way everywhere, creating a path to remember as it made itself known at all tender areas of your pussy.

“uh huh- that’s it, good girl. ride it out, riiiide it out, i gotcha,” he groans, laying his tongue fully flat. it’s a rose-like pink, soddened tastebuds sizzling in contempt once you’re ‘quenching’ his thirst with your sweetened arousal.

buzzing sounds went in and out of your ears as you just released huff after puff through your lungs. satoru’s lips were glossed with nothing but your slick, even more than they already were.

he gives your poor, convulsing clit its last finally smooches before reluctantly breaking away.

“hah- never a dull moment with her,” he licks his lips from top to bottom, grabbing out his lipstick-stained handkerchief before patting underneath his chin. “you okay, sweetheart?”

“ ‘m okay,” you breathe, still feeling tingles surge through every one of your veins that ran down your wobbly, numb limbs. your legs had it the worse.

you barely felt anything, and satoru helped you back to your feet.

it was a limo, so it wasn’t like you could exactly stand but you sufficed by crouching just below the fuzzy-made hood.

satoru lies slouched back - giving his lap a few playful pats before tilting his head at you. “c’mere, sweet thing,” and his voice was dripping with erotic silk.

his ocean-strong eyes zero down at your body, trailing up up up before eventually stopping just about your waistline.

your skirt was now off — pulled to the floor and so were your panties. you only had your matching blouse on. you got an idea though, and satoru watched you get on your knees. “oh..?”

“ ‘toru,” you speak in shortened puffs, still trying to get over your recent teeth-shattering orgasm. every sensitive axon and nerve located in your body was screaming at you, aching for more stimulation as time passed.

as your hands casually spread his long legs wider across the cushioned seats, you hummed. “remember those waist beads you ordered me a few weeks back?”

“mhm,” he nods, eyes never darting away from your wriggling body for a second.

satoru wondered what your game was.

as he was trying to prevent himself from smiling, he was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe you were starting to get just a liiiiitle bit spoiled.

as his legs were fully sprawled apart, you brought your hands toward the hem of the designer blouse that stuck against your skin. you honestly lost count of just how many clothes satoru’s bought you within the past year.

he watches closely - zeroing down at your figure, nipping on his lip as he stares at you leisurely pulling the piece of clothing off of you.

satoru’s seen your skin countless times, but there was just something about your body that he just couldn’t get enough of.

couldn’t get enough of you..

if he was being honest, he could stare at you all day.

“look. it fits perfectly,” you speak in a sweet tone, your thighs stuck together as you were still dripping from the inner crevices. you could feel yourself throbbing, and it took everything in you to not let out a moan.

satoru tsks, kissing his teeth once he’s now exposed to your skin.

the damn beads,

they wrapped around your waist and indeed fit your entire torso. his eyes studied the gold that went around your raised hips, whistling once he saw those two crystallized initials - his initials.

‘G.S’

the small two letters hung on one waist bead that was drooped low near your naval and an extra twin pair near the charms behind your back. “fuuuck- know that’s right,” satoru huffs, his breathing starting to get a bit heavy.

“all mine, heh- looks so damn pretty on you,” and as his eyes continued to meander down your skin, satoru’s head rests back against the softly cushioned seat. “hm- how ‘bout you model for me? show off that gorgeous body a little more f’ me.”

“say ‘please’,” you’d get on his lap, wrapping your arms around him. satoru looks up at you with a mere pouting scowl, a hand instinctively attaching itself to your hip.

“pleaaase, oh-pleaseeee sweets. don’t tease me too bad, you’re bein’ a bit of a spoiled girl right now,” he whispers, bringing wet, cold lips toward the corner of your neck. you moaned, feeling satoru’s free hand strum a few fingers down your waist beads.

they clank clank clanked, creating pretty jingle sounds at each faint movement before you started to move your hips.

“goddamn-” he holds in a breath, practically wordless as his eyes continued to rove.

briskly, you slowly turned yourself around, teasingly popping your hips to the dropping beats of the song that played through the limo’s speakers.

satoru’s suddenly short of breath, circling a thumb around the left cheek of your ass. he’s so hard, and you could feel it the more you rubbed your ass right up against thaaat particular spot.

he sucks his teeth once more, grunting as he feels the cloth knead against your skin so good..

“woman, you’re bein’ such a bratty tease right now..” and he could taste that round, large lump forming near the very back of his throat.

satoru shivers as your hands place on the crown of his knees, and you’re starting to rock rock rock back ‘n forth his throbbing boner. “hmph. the things i let ‘cha get away with, lucky ‘m not.. haah- fuck, bending ya over my lap, baby.”

“you talk a lot for a guy with a boner this hard, ‘toru.” you shrug, continuing the sensual jerking of your hips.

he’s grunting at every swift turn of your body, hearing his heart loudly thump through his ears.

the limo’s speed picks up a few miles and you could hear the grumbling from underneath the vehicle as you stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“mmh- fine, since you said please.”

as you’re still facing the other way, you reach for his buckle with your fingers brushing near the cold straps. you couldn’t see, so he grabbed your hand—guiding you where to unbuckle his slacks.

“f.. fuck, hurry up. you rubbin’ against me isn’t helping matters at all, y’know,” he tries to laugh but it comes out very dry.

satoru just wanted to be inside you, making you remember your place with a few sloppy strokes.

you giggled, hearing his pants and boxers sliiiide down to his ankles with a thud before jostling your rear way back against his leaning cock. it hung so cutely, and its tip was swollen with veins protruding at a few girthy sides.

with satoru still having a hold of your hand, he makes you touch the leaking head. “ooh,” you hum, twirling a thumb around his tender frenulum.

as you do so, he moans out the sluttiest moan, pretty white lashes squeezing shut for about three seconds to savor this moment.

“heh.. little girl,” he gutturally prowls, aligning his dick in between the crack of your fleshy mounds. it’s very hard, and you hummed at the warmth he provided. “go on then.. ride me in reverse, sweets. this the ride you wanted all along, hm?”

“yeaah,” you played along, almost seeing the weary smirk unfurl across his lips as he spoke.

you couldn’t wait any longer either.

you were throbbing persistently, every fiber of your being longing for satoru to ease his way inside of your pretty, sobbing cunt.

he was so big that your hand could barely wrap around the entity of his length. instantly, your palms met with various veins as you raised your hips moderately.

his vermillion-shaded tip carefully hovered over your dripping hole, and satoru’s just heavily breathing at your stilled body.

“mngh-” you released a rough, jagged breath once you were slowly making your way down on his cock.

like usual, you’re presented with that loving tiiiiight stretch that lasts for about a good four seconds.

satoru’s tip alone was big, and it pummeled through your insides as his inches started to leisurely disappear.

it’s such a lewd scene - a scene he wouldn’t mind replaying over ‘n over again in his head..

your pussy sings out sloshes of wet high notes in harmony, trying to take in his weighty shaft.

your mouth opens up on its own, and you’re breathing out colorful swears of ‘ohhh fuuuck’ ‘s as you continue to sink your way down.

from the both of you, countless breathy breaths were drawn from both raspy lungs as the mouthwatering penetration continued.

it felt like a squeeze pinching near your insides, tickling around you from the inside before adding pounds of pressure pressure pressure..

your hands go back to being placed on his knees, whimpering as his slick cock eases its way inside of your pussy. spongy, clamping walls hugged around him like a vice and your teeth were starting to feel that familiar chatter.

“god- always s- so fuckin’ big, ‘toru,” you moan, your bratty ‘lil façade shortly faltering once he’s finally buried balls fuckin’ deep.

the pit of your tummy was constantly heaving, cowardly sucking itself in and out at the sheer weight of his size before you eventually relaxed.

“perfect fit for my perfect… hah- girl.” he grunts, taking a quick peer down at your unbalanced thighs that struggled to move at first.

gradually, your hips started to move and greeted satoru’s lap with a sharp, rude slam. once you started to adapt to a rhythm, your hips rolled and rolled.

“agh- that’s i.. iiiiit,” he choked on his saliva, playing with the waist beads that danced against your torso as you moved.

satoru moans, feeling his fat base smush its way against your ass once you sat down. your hips were reeling, winding back into his pelvis like a wind-up toy.

with parched, hot skin amongst skin - the sounds echoed against the limo, nearly sounding over the music that played in the background.

satoru’s watching as you plop straight back into him before you sprightly wriggle your hips in a seductive circle.

“my, ain’t you a naughty girl..” he tosses his head back in overwhelming rapture, feeling his dick twitch inside you as the sloppy sounds continue.

it was hard not to hear - if it was anything satoru knew about your pussy, he knew that it was always, always vocal with him..

you’re slamming back against his lap every time, squeezing your palms against the crowns of his knees with your body twirling and falling back into his inviting lap.

if you kept riding him like that, he’d really be head over heels.

“ugh- yeah, girl. ride it, ride this dick like it’s yours because it fuckin’ is,” satoru grunts, feeling your cunt tighten for a second at his exact words. “heh- did my messy girl like that? like hearin’ that ‘m yours, sweetheart?”

“mhm,” you’d nod with your lips clamped shut.

he’s just so big, stretching through your insides with such ease. the once slow and steady beats of your heart were now thump thump thumping!

satoru’s bulbous-shaped tip had a hooked upturning curve, and fuck did you feel every sloping curve as you bounced up ‘n down on his cock.

it’s so good that your mouth’s pathetically watering from the inside, and you’re already starting to feel that burning sensation electrify through your aching, stretched muscles.

“mngh- look at this body, s… so damn-” and he pauses, clenching his jaw at the sloppy wet feeling of your barriers bear-hugging around his cock.

you’re just working your hips like it’s a full-time job, throwing them around in a circle so fast that even satoru could barely keep up.

with thighs upon thighs upon thighs, your skin sticks against his like glue. a trail of colorless slick smears down satoru’s leg and he moans at the loud slaps of zealous, clapping skin.

you’re sticky still, and he’s moaning louder once the speed of your hips quickens.

“yeah? yeah, better- fuckin’-ride-me,” and even though his voice faintly cracks, satoru still manages a sort of poised, cocky persona.

multiple ‘encouraging’ swats hit against the cheeks of your ass and you’re whining, putting your all into the movements of your jerking body. satoru’s snowy brows contort before he gives your waist beads a soft tug.

“do it, fuck me, baby. ‘n while you’re at it..” and as you’re still moving your hips, you feel a bit of paper rain down your back that’s starting to perspire with sweat.

“fuck-” satoru grunts smokily, staring as hundred dollar bills fall down your bare spine. “forgot ‘ta give you your allowance, might as well give it to you now.”

“hngh- satoruuu,” you whined, his cock hitting its way through every spot. it french-kisses near your clit before passionately making out with your cervix.

it located both spots easily, and the feeling had your toes curling inside of your four-inch heels.

satoru ended up tossing those same bills down your back, staring as it prettily fell down your body before landing on his lap and the limo’s cottony carpet.

“ ‘m gonna cum i think,” you moaned, slowing your turning hips in hypnotic, carnal arcs. satoru’s hands were brought to your waist with two thumbs pressed at each side of your hips. “ ‘m cummin’ satoru.”

“me too, s.. sweets,” he swallows, hissing silently at the unsteady bucking of your bouncing ass.

your rear jiggled at each slamming thrust, ricocheting against his thighs and it was just so mesmerizing to watch.

satoru’s feeling the scorching tip of his cock grow hot, and he’s starting to feel all types of contractions arise within his muscles. “god- tell me where to tell me where.”

“inside,” you moaned, bringing your hands toward your chest to cup to bouncing tits. you squeezed them, smearing a thumb around your hardened nipples before making yourself even more aroused.

it’s just so much to process.

your rutting hips, the loud squelches of your pussy, satoru’s dick driving through you repeatedly.. oh, you were in a daze.

“f- fuuuuck. be a… hah- good girl ‘n take it all then.” he groans, elated euphoria swelling within him.

you stuck against his lap so good, slickly sliding your ass back before going forward, then back into his pelvis again.

your movements alone left such a good taste in his mouth, and once he feels himself about to burst - he fuckin’ bursts.

a massive load spurts out of satoru, shooting deeply into your fluttering womb as your hips come to a freezing still.

you’re cumming too - whimpering as you’re gushing down on his cock while being absolutely filled.

wads ‘n wads of milky, gooey cum floods inside of you, plugging you to the fullest. you’re both moaning lowly, rocking against each other in rushed unison before you arch forward.

your ass was fully bent over, and satoru stared openly as he was still shooting such deep, frothy amounts inside of you.

you looked so pretty like this that he couldn’t help but mentally take a picture, widely peering at the foamy droplets of cum that started to trickle their way down his overwhelmed base—creating a sparkling white ring.

it’s still as thick - still as veiny, and satoru makes you raise your hips ever-so-slightly.

doing so, he stares at your soddened pussy that’s lewdly spitting out a few heaps of cum before hearing that cute wet ‘plop!’

“fuckin’ dirty girl..” he huffs, one hand softly caressing your waist beads. he takes a glance at the ‘G.S.’ initials that were engraved near the back side of the many other charms, and he sighs.

right as you’re pulled up to where his creamy tip was juuuust about to slide away from your soused opening, satoru gives your stuffed pussy a soft pat.

“don’t know who’s dirtier…. herrrr,” he mumbles, swabbing a thumb around your cum-covered hole before bringing it up to his mouth.

with a wet smacking ‘ccht’ of satoru’s lips coming together—he licks his thumb clean, cooing silently at the taste of himself like the filthy, filthy man he was. “or you.”

♡ ♡ ♡

after many, many positions, you found yourself losing multiple rounds with your shallow breath as if even breathing was a mere contest. he’s had you in position after position, folding you like a freshly baked pretzel. it’s almost like the two of you weren’t literally in a limousine.

you hoped his chauffeur nanami didn’t hear. that would’ve been well, embarrassing.

the drive felt like forever.. but, you honestly didn’t want it.. this to end.

you’re a mess, stuffed to the uttermost fullest with ribbons of satoru’s freshly hot cum messily tearing down every slick crevice of your thighs.

currently, satoru had you in one of his favorite positions.

doggy.

part of the reason why he loved it so much was mainly because of the perfect, jiggling view.

your ass - he loved seeing how it would react from each rude smack, swatting his palm over and over again at your cute, tender skin. the pads of your hands pressed firmly into the limo’s seats as he’s just giving you the pound of a damn lifetime.

“mngh!” you’d whine out, drooling from the sides of your jittery, spit-slick lips that refused to stay shut.

he’s effortlessly reaching all the right areas, swiftly pumping his way past that cute taut ring of your entrance that he’s grown to love.

that brief tight stretch nearly makes him lose his mind, and satoru then brings his hands toward your waist. “right there, right fuckin’ th— mmph!”

“shhh, you’re gonna.. hah- miss the best part, sweets,” the white-haired man cups a hand over your mouth.

slow strokes - deeper thrusts..

your eyes rolled ‘n rolled back, gasping against his palm once he sneaks a hand in between your wet thighs. with your waist beads tickling against his wrist, satoru gives your pussy a soft smack.

your wetness ‘splashes’ against the center of his hand, and it even pops out a cute sound too.

“uuugh- ‘m gonna… cum agaiiin,” you’d raise your ass in the air just a bit more, your voice turning more whiny within seconds.

your words were still a bit muffled with his hand covering your mouth, but he still made out your whiny, inaudible words—just barely. .

the sounds of fierce, sharp hips brutally clashing against skin every time made him groan. it’s a booming resounding ‘pop!’ or ‘pap!’ noise every time that makes your entire body ring instead of just your ears.

his cock’s searching through your wet, gripping walls as if it had some sort of life purpose.

“hah- me t.. too, sweetheart,” and fuck, satoru’s drowning in his sweat. “phew-” satoru brings the back of his wrist to wipe some from his forehead. glancing down, he stares at your jouncing ass before giving you one, snappingly deep thrust.

“pussy’s a fuckin’ workout- oh shiiiiit.” and satoru’s feeling you clamp clamp clamp down on him, giving his dick the work of its life.

you could feel the individual staticky pulses of your clit signaling messages to you that you’re just so close and you’re nearly salivating inside of your mouth.

soooo good.. for a moment you forgot the two of you were still in the back of a limousine.

he’s fucking you so good that you could barely think straight.

satoru’s still playing with your pussy, giving it spanks in between his robust thrusts.

his rotund tip beat red, an oxblood blush of red as he continued to ram a heart-shaped sloppy kiss toward your clit.

at that moment, your legs cutely retreated and your chest collapsed forward. “feels s.. sooo good satoru, ngh- ‘toruuu!”

as your body spasmed at the onslaught of his reckless, sloppy thrusts - your hips were all the way raised against his lap.

you’re losing track of thoughts as you’re harshly creaming down his shaft, murmuring out cute little babbles of ‘ooohs’ once you feel his angle deepen.

satoru brings a hand down your fleshy back, staring at your skin that was wetly decorated with sweat while studying the goosebumps that ran down your spine.

“ ‘m gonna.. hah- cum,” he groans, a few stubby fingers thrumming down the gold waist beads that wrapped around your waist.

he brings his thumb toward the tiny ‘G.S.’ initials before pressing his honed-shaped pelvis wholly into you with just a single, barbaric thrust.

“all mine, my pretty… hah- wife.”

wife?

you heard that — you definitely heard it, but part of you wondered if maybe satoru was just overly pussy drunk as usual.

but the thought alone - the thought of actually being his wife of satoru gojo, your sugar daddy, didn’t seem too bad.

as the image of you walking down the aisle crossed your mind, your throbbing brought you straight back into orgasmic reality.

“wait.. hnng- pull out,” you’d moan, another idea popping into your head. instead of satoru usually finishing inside, you had a better idea.

“haah- ‘kay,” he pants, his snapping hips working overtime as they continually mercilessly plunge deep into your heated core.

his rhythm was far slower, but his thrusts were always in such a hurried frenzy.

he’s close - so so close.

you’re still covered with his cum from before from the legs down, and it paints such a pretty canvas on you.

a lewd, erotic canvas maybe..

quickly, satoru ends up pulling out with a hand wrapped around his cock that painfully throbbed. it scrunched up a bit at the sudden coldness, already missing your clingy warmth before you flip over.

“h.. hm?”

“ ‘toru, put ‘em between here.” you spoke in a hushed tone, sinking your knees into the limo’s velveteen-made seats.

he hungrily stares at you with nothing but lust surrounding the entirety of his rounded, dilated pupils. at your sweet, breathy word of ‘here,’ you brought two hands up to your breasts.

“naughty… temptress,” satoru clicks his tongue. aligning his swollen dick in between the crack of your sweat-dripping chest, it easily sliiiiiides its way through.

he watches intently as you squeeze your tits together, glancing up at him with those pretty, siren eyes of yours that were starting to droop.

“mmh,” and as his tip disappears between the slot of your chest, you hang your head down, flicking your tongue across the tender slit of his shaft.

“f- fuck, ‘m gonna cum. can’t- hold it anymore, sweets,” satoru groans, his words so guttural ‘n low that they sounded almost like a growl.

he knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer, not when you were on your knees—stuffing his dick right between your perked tits.

he’s sloppily starting to thrust his cock in and out between the valley of your breasts and felt himself throb at each cute jounce they created amongst each other.

so …. soft.

satoru’s achy tip was forming into an angry shade of bloodshot red, and the entirety of his shaft was smoldering from the stimulation. after a few long milliseconds though—he finds himself shooting white blanks again.

he’s fucking between your tits as you held them together, spraying a nice sum of his load onto your chest. you gasp, a bit landing on your lip and you lick it.

satoru’s moaning - no, grunting as he’s finishing against your breasts. he drags a shaky hand through his tousled, white hair before letting off a deep, heavy sigh.

“ohhh… fuck,” he grumbles, the tips of his ears burning a fiery pink.

his limp cock now remains idle, still buried between your tits before you slide your tongue across the leaking creamed tip.

it’s so glossy, dribbling from all sides with his pasty mess plastered on the upper part of your chest. “didn’t know i had.. such a dirty sweethe- fuck.”

satoru pauses for theatrics — holding his breath, thinking he was still cumming, but he wasn’t.

his mind was simply playing tricks, and his jaw clenched once you lapped up the remnants of bittersweet tasting cum that splattered on you. you used your thumb to reach the spots your tongue couldn’t, and once you were finished, satoru bent down to pull you into a fervent, deep kiss.

you moaned against his lips as the limousine still created miles upon miles. you lost track of time, but you’d guess it’s probably been well over an hour's drive.

“mng-” satoru grunts into your lips, feeling your arms wrap around him. he still had his button-up shirt on the entire time along with his suit just above his torso. he’s tasting himself on your lips, grunting once he felt your hand tug on his ruffled black tie.

your tongue was sticky, swirling a circular pattern around the inside of his mouth before you sucked on his.

satoru allowed you to make him get underneath you, and he felt your legs crawling on top of him.

as you’re both still deeply making out — fighting each other with sharp slaps of teeth smacking against each other, you gingerly pull away.

“i’m your wife now?”

“h.. hm?”

“earlier,” you lick near the corner of his lip. “you said ‘m your pretty wife.”

satoru gives you a sleazy lopsided grin. he looked so pussy drunk that he almost forgot about that tiny piece of dialogue that spouted from his lips.

“ah, i did call you my wife, didn’t i, sweets?” and as a thumb caresses around your cheek, he hoarsely whispers. “well, do you want to be?”

bringing a wet, torrid kiss toward his bottom crooked lip, you hummed. “i do.”

“wish you would’ve told me sooner though,” he sheepishly says, giving his tie a few meek pulls. “i could’ve proposed the right way but.. this is fine too, i gues-.”

“shhh-” you silence him with yet another barrage of kisses, cupping his face.

satoru grunts, hearing the little jangles of your waist brands yet again as your hips laboriously swayed against him.

your forehead is pressed against his and its hit with a bunch of sweat from satoru.

satoru moans from your ardent, vehement kisses, his lips being left all plump, reddened, and not to mention swollen all because of you.

his dick twitches—a prominent vein striking near the left side as you steadily moved your dripping pussy against it in slow, ravishing rocks. “lie back,” you whispered, playfully pushing him back against the seat.

satoru reclines back with a ‘hmph’ and he raises a silvery brow at your audacity. “lie back ‘n let your fiancé ride you again.”

“heh.. yes, mrs. gojo.”

[satorusugurugurl]

okay so 1st of all i love your posts

can you do nanami with a breeding kink plsss

ty <3333

First off thank you so so much!!

And secondly heck yes!! 😏

More Than Words

Summary: Your husband, Nanami Kento decides he’s ready to take your marriage to the next level.

Pairing: Nanami Kento x FAB!Reader

Warnings: Teeth rotting fluff! Super romantic, language, dirty talk, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2,704

A/N: This, this did things to me. But I liked it 🥵

Nanami watched you closely from the kitchen. You sat outside on the porch, sipping tea as you scrolled through your phone. The two of you made it a point to spend the evenings outside, enjoying the setting sun and breathing fresh air. He had just been outside with you but excused himself to try and settle his nerves.

He would ask you tonight if you were ready to start trying for a baby.

The thought of having a child hadn’t crossed his mind in your two years of marriage until last weekend. You two had gone to dinner with one of your coworkers, who had just been blessed with a baby boy. You were practically glowing as you held the little boy in your arms. The way you spoke softly, gently rocking them while humming? It was a side of you Nanami had never seen before.

The raw awe and amazement etched on your face was a look he desperately needed to see again. To see you staring at the child you both made would be a sight that would forever linger in his daydreams until he made sure it came true. To step in that direction, he needed to bring it up with you.

You weren’t on birth control. Every single form you tried since you were seventeen made you sick. From the pills to the shots, you considered trying the IUD, but you chicken out at the last second. The entirety of your sexual relationship with Nanami had always been with the use of condoms. So, if you agreed with him, that would mean you’d be doing it raw for the first time in either of your lives.

So he was nervous beyond all words, from wanting to bring a child into the world to experiencing having sex at its rawest form. Thoughts swarmed his mind in a slurry. There was a lot for both of you to consider. Both of you. Nanami couldn’t move forward without talking to you.

With a deep exhale, Nanami headed back outside, shutting the door behind him. “Sorry about that.” He whispered as he sat next to you on the outdoor couch.

“Mmm,” you immediately snuggled next to him, “I was about to call for a search party.” You teased, putting your phone away. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Mhmm,” You could easily see through that heavily played hum. Something was on his mind.

“Nanami Kento, I hate to break it to you, but I know you better than you know yourself. You have something on your mind.” Tilting your head up, you watched the tips of his ears flush before spreading down the nape of his neck. “So, you might as well talk to me.” You paused, “You know, seeing that I’m your wife.” You wiggled your left hand in front of his face—your wedding ring sparkling in the pastel colors of the setting sun.

“My wife.”

Your breath hitched as Nanami’s larger hand wrapped around your smaller one. Bringing your ring to his lips, pressing a kiss against it. His eyes were shut; he looked handsome, pondering whatever clouded his mind. Feeling your gaze on him, Nanami slowly opened his eyes, looking down at you.

“But you’re so much more than just my wife Y/N.” His fingers trailed slowly over your palm, tracing the lines over your skin. “You’re my best friend, partner, the love of my life.” Nanami brought your palm to his mouth, retracing the path of his fingers with his lips. “You’re my purpose, my reason to keep going.”

“Kento.” You whispered in awe as he turned the both of you so you were facing each other head-on.

“My soul.” He placed both hands on yours. “My strength.” You shuddered as his heated palm moved up your arms, trailing them slowly towards your shoulders. “My everything.” You moaned as his hands that so lovingly traced over your arms gently cupped your face. “But I hate to admit that I want more.”

His thumbs lovingly caressed your cheeks, bringing you flush against his chest. “More?” You followed his lead, running your hands slowly down his pecs and over his ab’s, heading towards his crotch. “How much more?” The groan that left his lips was deep and full of unfiltered need.

“I don’t just want you to be my best friend, partner, or wife, Y/N.” His lips were centimeters from yours. Your breath mingled with his as you breathed slowly in the last fragments of sunlight. “I want you to be the mother of my children.”

Kento saw the way your eyes lit up. A glimmering sparkle in Y/E/C irises. Just like you knew him, Kento knew you better than yourself. The way you melted against him, drawing yourself as close as you could on the small loveseat, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind.

The irrational fears and hesitation vanished as you whimpered. “I want that so bad, Ken; I want to be the moth—“ your husband silenced you with a searing kiss.

You followed his lead, kissing him as his gentle touch turned into something more needy, more primal. There was a desire he’d never felt before boiling deep within his chest. Kento needed you, needed to be buried inside of you, filling you with his cum, ensuring that you would be, without a doubt, pregnant with his child.

He was going to breed you.

Pulling away, you gasped for air, a string of saliva connected between your lips. Nanami’s chest rose and fell with each strangled breath as he so desperately tried to refrain from destroying you. Seeing the conflicted expression on his face, you decided to help. What kind of wife would you be if you didn’t? Dropping to your knees, you slowly pulled the waistband of his lounge pants down.

“Y/N love, what are you doing?”

“Shh~” you glanced at him, “you need to relax. Let me help clear your mind.”

Your delicate fingers traced the v-line of his crotch up and down. His hips jerked up, cock throbbing within his boxers. His brown eyes followed your hands, watching you tug his boxers down. His already hard, throbbing cock smacked against his stomach with a smack, his pre-cum smearing over his toned skin. The sight of his thick length had your mouth watering. Wrapping your hand around the base, you slowly stroked up and down, smearing his pre-cum over his entire length.

“Fuucck,” Nanami’s voice was almost inaudible as he groaned. Hearing him curse like that’s had your cunt throbbing, your slick coating your panties. “Fuck Y/N, that’s feels so fucking good.”

“Oh, my darling husband,” He peered down at you through half-lidded eyes, “you haven’t felt anything yet.” You took him in your mouth, and the salty yet sweet taste of him hit your tastebuds, making you whine around him. You bobbed your head up and down slowly, coating the throbbing tip with your saliva before you moved further down his shaft, gagging as his cock hit the back of your throat.

You slowly lifted your head back up when his hand wrapped into your hair. You shut your eyes, bracing yourself for him to slam your back down around his throbbing length. Much to your surprise, he did the complete opposite. Yanking your hair, he practically had to pry you off of him, his chest heaving as he forced you to look into his eyes.

“Did you not understand what I said earlier?” He stood, releasing his grip on your hair.

“I did; you want to make babies with me.”

“Mhmm,” he hummed, taking your hand in his helping you to your feet. “And how do you suppose I do that if I cum down your throat.” Nanami didn’t even allow you to consider an answer. “Looks like I need to give you a thorough demonstration of how it works.”

“Oh my god!” You laughed as Kento lifted you, carrying you inside towards your bedroom. “I guess a demonstration would be beneficial in this case.” You breathed out breathlessly as he tossed you onto the bed. “Just so you know, I might need several demonstrations.”

“I agree; the more demonstrations, the better.” Your husband grabbed the hem of your shirt, tugging it up and over your head before tossing it to the floor. “To start, we need to remove these pesky clothes.”

You tried to keep a serious face as you followed his lead. Shirts, pants, and underwear piled on the floor around your bed. Only once the two of you were bare, Kento situated between your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his hips. The giggling and joking around subsided into a comfortable silence. While the room was thick with tension, it didn’t change the fact that both of you were ready for this. To experience making love without a pesky condom.

“Y/N.” Nanami drew your attention to his face as he spoke. “I love you.” His fingers rubbed small lazy circles over your clit. The sensation had you bucking against his hand, eager for more than the gentle caressing he was giving you.

“I-fuck feels good. I love you too, Kento.”

His fingers began moving faster, the circles tighter as his eyes trailed over your body. He was taking a mental picture of you in this moment, imagining how you’d look several months down the road. Breast and belly swollen with the child he put inside of you. You’d be even more gorgeous than you already were, which seemed utterly unfathomable to him. The images of you, pregnant with your child, God, it was more pornographic than any movie or book he’s seen. A lot of it had to be because of you. Nanami was so fucked up over the thought of breeding you.

“Ke-Kento, I-I’m gonna cum!” Your whimpers and whines brought him back to the moment. “Stop. I wanna cum with you inside of me.”

He leaned down, kissing you softly, his hand slowing down. You lazily kissed him back before gasping as you felt his leaking tip rub up and down your slit. Without the condom, you could feel just how hot and hard he was. Kento’s arms were caging around your head. His wide eyes mirrored what you imagined you looked like. The feeling of your bare wet pussy felt-ten times better than he imagined. And he wasn’t even inside you yet.

“You’re so wet,” his eyes fluttered shut, “you felt good every time I slid into you before, but this, god, this is going to be a whole new experience.”

“Y-Yeah feels good, though.”

“Very good.”

Nanami continued gritting his teeth as he slowly slid into you. Your silky wet, warm walls hugged his cock in a way he could never experience with condoms before. The raw feeling had him clenching his fists into the covers, furrowing his brows together as he desperately tried not to cum inside of you like a virgin. He needed to focus on something other than your pussy, so he focused his attention on your face.

Which was a major mistake on his part.

Cheeks flushed; your mouth was frozen in an ‘O’ shape. And fuck, the whimpers and way your chest heaved it made his knees weak. “S-So hot, oh my god Kento your cock is so hot and velvety.” His eyes were as wide as saucers as you slowly began rocking against him, trying to get his thick, cock deeper inside of you. “Please don’t stop, fuck me, please fuck me. Need to feel you, I need more.” Between your cunt squeezing him and the needy tone of your voice, Nanami lost all self control.

His hips slammed against your, causing a scream to escape you as your arched your back off the bed. As soon as he was buried deep inside your wet pussy, he was pulling out before slamming back inside your tight spongy walls. You were hit with a sudden wave or revelation as to why people hated wearing condoms. They prevent you from feeling the velvety smooth pull of your husband cock as he slammed into you over and over again. You could feel his cock throbbing, leaking inside of you, God it felt so good to be fucking you raw like this.

“Fuck your pussy is perfect, so fucking wet, so tight just for me.” His lips pressed against your, his thrusts finding the perfect rhythm as you cried into his mouth.

“Yes Ken, yes, fuck me, fuck me!”

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll get pregnant off the first try.” He chuckled his hands groping your breasts, kneading them. Nanami whined, picturing them swollen with milk. “Even if that happens, I’m just going to keep fucking you full of me cum, just to be safe. God fuck Y/N!” His shameless words had you drowning in pleasure as you twitched around his perfect cock. “Ah~ fuck I felt you twitch. You like knowing that your husband is going to stop at nothing, until your breed?”

“Oh, oh fuck, yes, I want it, I want it!”

“Such a sweet girl, you want it?” He groaned in your ear, feeling you clamp down harder around him as his thrusts losing his rhythm. “Tell me you want me to breed you. Tell me you want me to be the first and only man to fill your tight cunt with cum.”

“Kento~ nngh, yes, breed me, make me yours in every way you can! Cum inside me, please, please!” Your begging, the moans, only had him whining and growling louder, fucking into you like he never had before. So rough, so passionately, it was perfect. All through subsided as you cried out Nanami had angled his hips to brush against your g-spot before pressing directly into your cervix. “Holy fuck yes, fill me up Ken!”

More dirty words and curses spilled from your tongue as you felt yourself approaching your orgasm. The tightening coil in your lower abdomen, had your withering under your husband. Your squirming had Nanami fucking harder into you, His mouth on yours as he made love to you like the world was going to end. In his horny brain it might just happen if he didn’t fuck his cum into you soon.

“That’s it, good girl, good fucking girl~ take it, fucking take all of it.” His thrusts were jerky, his balls tightening as your dug your heels into his ass, successfully pulling his deeper inside of you. “Ah fuck! You’re such a good girl, so eager to be the future mother of my children.” All you were capable of doing was nodding as you cried out around him with each deep thrust. “Fuck, get pregnant Y/N, cum on my cock, and milk me for all that I’m worth.”

“K-Kento! Ken!”

“That’s it, love~ fuckin’ cum, cum all over me, good girl.”

“Nnngh!!” A scream ripped through your throat as Kento sped up, his thumb rubbing your clit as you came, extending your orgasm.

Your cum coated his cock, the warm slickness and you throbbing walls urged him to do exactly what he had been promising to do. “Get pregnant, take it, take all my cum. I’m cumming, oh my god I’m cumm-“ Kento cut himself off by slamming his lips against your, his tongue slid into your mouth as he moaned. His cock spurted and spurted, filling you full of his cum the sensation was strange, warm, and new.

But it felt so fucking good.

Pulling away from you, Kento gasped for air as he reached up gentle caressing your face as you both tried to catch your breath. Once Nanami managed to swallow down enough air to slow his heart rate, he beamed down at you. “Y/N I love you.” He didn’t say anything else, because his loving touch, and the gentle kisses he peppered over your face spoke volumes.

Those strong loving arms held you close, pulling you onto your sides. His cock keeping your bodies connected as he spooned you. Your husband loved you more than words could describe. The mere gentleness of this moment, had you praying that if you were to get pregnant, this was the moment it happened.

[angry-geese]

Sage

nanami kento x reader

warnings: none! sfw. entirely fluff, this will quite literally rot your teeth. gn!reader though there is mentions of them being pregnant. aside from that gn pronouns are used.

notes: some dad!nanami and domestic fluff

word count: 1,435

Nanami settled into being a father better than he thought he would.

You were another jujutsu sorcerer, working with Gojo at the time. Your meeting with Nanami was only by chance. The two of you bonded over bullying Gojo. Though you found him much less annoying than Nanami did, you still made it known how you didn't appreciate his antics.

Slowly you wormed your way more into his life. The two of you frequented the same bakery. Early mornings turned into getting pastries together. You offered to pay the first time. He had your order memorized. He picked up little things about you that you hadn't even noticed yourself. Nanami was observant. He didn't intend to memorize these things—he wasn't certain why he was watching you—but he did. The one day you showed up late he had your order waiting for you in his arms. Since you were still under the impression he didn't like you, it was surprising.

The next day he had your order waiting for you.

No matter how many times you offered to pay him back, he always refused. Reluctantly he enjoyed your company. Though you weren't officially partners, Gojo usually ended up sending you on the same missions. Working together turned into spending time together outside of work. Much of your free time was spent at his home, or him at yours. The two of you were inseparable.

Nanami made it known he'd never date a coworker. He was awfully vocal about his distaste for work. The last thing he'd ever want was his personal and work life crossing over. But he made an exception for you.

He realized he was too far gone when he couldn't imagine life without you.

You were always calm and collected and strong in a way he could respect. The jujutsu world was never kind to you, but you took whatever it threw at you with grace. He respected you before he liked you. But when he fell for you, he fell hard.

His confession wasn't anything grand, but he still tried to make it special. After a mission, he invited you out to dinner. The place was a bit fancier than what you usually went to. He insisted it was a special occasion.

Nanami was almost too nervous to get his confession out, but after a few drinks he managed.

To be honest, you were under the impression you were already dating.

Dating wasn't all that different from the way things were before. You were a bit more affectionate around him. You had no problems with draping yourself over his form. Or giving him a kiss without warning. Anything to bother him while he worked. You two would move in together almost instantly.

His plan always was settling down. The idea of a family was scary, but appealing. The typical life of a jujutsu sorcerer—or any normal life at that—wasn’t for him.

From the beginning he wanted kids. You did too—eventually—there was a mutual agreement on it. You weren't exactly trying for one, but you weren't trying to avoid it either. If it happened, it happened, that was your logic. The two of you were well off enough financially to care for a child.

You would find out about your pregnancy not long after.

You didn't tell Nanami for a while. While you knew he would be happy with the news, it never felt like the right moment. You wanted to surprise him with it but the moment to do so never presented itself.

Gojo—of all people—spoiled the surprise. Really it was an accident. You made an offhand comment about missing going to bars. As a joke, he asked: "what? Are you pregnant?"

There was no way you could respond without outing yourself. It was a bit embarrassing that your coworker found out before your husband. Nanami took your silence as a yes.

Upon hearing the news, he was ecstatic.

The second he could, he quit. The jujutsu world is no place for a family. He would be content with never seeing another sorcerer again.

He would hardly leave your side for the next nine months.

Nanami would tag along to each and every one of your doctors appointments. God forbid you lifted something too heavy, or were on your feet too long. He was always on your case about pushing yourself too hard. His presence was suffocating at times, but you knew he meant well. If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask and he’d bring it to you. You tried not to abuse this power too much.

The two of you decided to keep the gender a secret until your child was born.

A few months later you'd have a girl.

Eventually one of you would have to go back to work. Maternity leave wouldn't last forever. Your “normal” job paid enough to support the three of you. You weren't rich, but you made enough to live comfortably. Nanami agreed to stay home and take care of the baby.

He took to being a stay-at-home father better than he thought he would. Being a househusband was a better fit for him than any office work. A deep fear lingers in him that he’ll be a bad parent; the same doubts that any new parent has. He’s not nearly as bad as he says he is. You make sure he knows that.

"She's so little," he says, "am I doing this right?"

The idea of being responsible for such a small and fragile thing scares him.

The tiny bundle rests against his chest. A tuft of soft blonde hair is visible from under her yellow cap. Nanami smooths a hand over her head, fixing her hat. He can't stop the smile that spreads across his face and she chirps happily. Her pudgy fingers reach out and wrap around his much larger one.

"It's a baby carrier, how complicated can it be?" You ask.

The instructions look like they're written in Greek.

He notices your confused look and says a weak: "I told you"

The parts look nothing like the picture. Her baby carrier is a mess of straps and unnecessary clips. You can't tell what parts are spares, or just things you've left out.

It's oddly stressful.

Since when were these things so hard to put together?

"It looks nothing like the picture." He says.

"I mean, it doesn't look wrong." You say, a bit irritated. “As long as it keeps her in one place I think she’ll be fine.”

He fixes her hat one last time.

The walk to the bakery isn't a long one. When you two were looking for a house, you found one nearby. Nanami has your order memorized, and orders for the both of you. He’s made plenty of midnight trips to this place; you had cravings for some pretty strange things. You get your usual order of a coffee, a filled pastry, and a loaf of bread you plan on saving for breakfast tomorrow.

You gather your things and sit on a nearby bench to eat. Although it feels like such a little thing, this feels like the first time you've been out since you had the baby. Being away from work has made you both a bit stir crazy.

"You're dropping food on her head." You say.

A small "oh" leaves his mouth before he picks up the crumb, popping it into his mouth.

"Ken' that's gross."

He looks at you, then down at her, then back to you.

"Yeah."

He smooths a hand over her head. She squeals in delight, her pudgy hands outstretched. Nanami still can't get over how little she is. Months later he's still shocked that something so small is his. He acts like she's the most fragile thing on earth. Constantly you have to remind him that children are a lot more resilient than he thinks. If the baby is crying, he’s usually the first to console her. Even on nights that you offer, he refuses. He’ll stay up for hours reading to her.

He never thought he could love something so much. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, then yours. Moments like this are fleeting. He hates to get sentimental, but moments like this are fleeting. Before you know it, your kid will be all grown up and that thought terrifies him.

You lean your head against his shoulder. He almost seems surprised by it.

“We should hit that bookstore on the way back.” You offhandedly mention.

“Do you have room for more books?” He asks.

No, but you’re getting more anyway.

[ahtsumu]

LOVE PERSEVERING, EP 1. “The Plot Twist”

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader

synopsis: the nanami’s have an evening full of surprises – the most surprising of all, however, is the one that comes without explanation.

tag(s): loose (very loose) wandavision!au, humor, domestic fluff, suggestive content, profanity, can be read as a standalone! ; wc: 2.6k

love persevering m.list

“SORRY I’M LATE.”

Nanami Kento closes the front door behind him and changes out of his oxfords for house slippers. The traffic was crazy, there’d been an accident on the 101, a Maserati collided with a Ferrari and the two drivers were hashing it out in the middle of – no, that’s a horrible story and even worse lie. He doesn’t even drive to work. He takes the Caltrain to his job in San Francisco every morning and takes it home to Sunnyvale every evening.

Shit, Nanami thinks as he tries to hide the evidence of his… offense. Can he cover it up with something? Maybe if he held his briefcase in front of it… No, that’s so obvious. It’s so… red. And big. There’s no way it’d stay concealed.

It’s not that Nanami is in any way dumb or easily frazzled. No, he’s quite intelligent and levelheaded and the fact that he works as an Associate at Goldman Sachs should be proof enough. It’s just that he strongly dislikes the thought of lying to you. Technically, he doesn’t even have to make up a story to explain his tardiness. You probably don’t really care that he’s – Nanami checks his watch while setting his briefcase down – an hour late home. But having a story would quell your suspicions about the true reason he’s late.

See, today his co-worker Archie was talking on and on about how he surprised his wife with a bouquet of fifty roses the other night and, well, Nanami felt inspired. He’s not typically one for large romantic gestures, so he thought that maybe he should step up his game and at least remind you of how much he loves you the one day he’s given a sign to.

“First, you gotta lower her expectations, y’know?” Archie says like he’s giving a pitch. “Make her think the conversation is gonna be far from romantic. Say something totally boring. ‘Hey, honey, I had a great day at work today.’ Somethin’ like that, y’know? Then you just whip it right out. Bam.”

Nanami looks at the pink peonies in his hand with a small smile. Happy marriage, the flower shop attendee had said. Hearing your footsteps leading out from the second-floor bedroom, he quickly places the red bouquet behind the living room sofa before rushing back to his original place by the door. At first sight of your figure descending the stairs, Nanami starts (perhaps too exaggeratedly) loosening his tie.

“Ken.”

Oh. Oh, this doesn’t sound too good. Pausing his movements, Nanami assesses the damage. Your arms are crossed over your chest and your head is slightly cocked to the side, and you’re shooting him an expectant look. To be frank, you look a little pissed. You’re not even smiling. This definitely isn’t too great.

“Honey,” he starts, flashing you a conciliatory smile.

“Did you know that we were supposed to leave for our reservation an hour ago?” you interrupt.

Reservation? It doesn’t ring a bell.

Oh, is that why… fuck.

Taking your husband’s silence as evidence that he’d forgotten, you let out a sigh and walk up to his frozen frame, stopping when you’re right under his nose. “Did you?”

Nanami looks up at the ceiling as he tries to recall anything about reservations, but his mind turns blank. Actually, he thinks as he furrows his brows, he can’t even remember what he did yesterday.

“No,” he admits truthfully, looking into your eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m really sorry but I don’t remember at all. Listen, I –”

And then, you laugh.

“I was just messin’ with you, babe.” Still giggling, you pull him in for a hug. “The reservation’s not today.”

Nanami blinks as his arms wrap around you. There’s no reservation. “You’re ridiculous,” he chuckles. “I genuinely thought that I’d done something wrong.”

“No, definitely not. You’re wonderful.” Lifting your heels off the floor, you capture Nanami’s lips in a short kiss. He eagerly responds, pulling you closer into his firm body. This is, without a doubt, Nanami’s favorite part about coming home. You. Always there, at the end of the day, with your sunny little grin and sweet, adoring eyes. A little piece of paradise.

“You are so much trouble,” he murmurs as you pull apart. You hum at that, unable to disagree.

“We do, however, have a reservation at eight tomorrow.”

He frowns. “I genuinely don’t remember making plans for that, darling, I’m sorry.” Nanami glances down at your face and notices your surprised expression.

“Me neither. I was hoping you’d be able to tell me something about that.”

Well, that’s odd. It’s not often that either of you forgets anything, let alone something as easily remembered as a dinner reservation. It’s utterly peculiar that you would both happen to forget about the same thing. Today’s turning out a lot stranger than he’d ever expected. “How’d you find out?”

You pull your phone out of your back pocket and show him the email confirmation.

Dear Mr and Mrs. Nanami,

Thank you for making a reservation with us at Gary Danko. As a reminder, your reservation is for two people at 8:00 PM this Friday.

If you have any questions concerning your reservation, please feel free to contact us. We look forward to serving you!

Thank you,

The Gary Danko Team

“This is… strange,” Nanami notes, studying the little screen.

“Very,” you agree.

“Should we cancel?”

“Should we?”

“I –”  Nanami’s stomach grumbles, putting a pause on your conversation.

With a chuckle, you slide your phone back into your pocket. “Never mind. We can talk about it during dinner,” you say, helping your husband out of his suit jacket. As the blazer comes off, you affectionately rub a few circles on his back, feeling his posture relax under your touch. Honestly, he works too hard. You always tell him this but he really should take a few days off and drive down to the beach – maybe with you, if he’d like – and forget about the world for a while. God knows he could use the rest.

Nanami hums in approval. “You go on first.” He kisses your forehead before gesturing at the briefcase on the floor. “I should put this away.”

The moment you disappear into the dining room, Nanami moves his briefcase onto the coffee table and brings the bouquet of pink peonies out from their place behind the sofa, this time holding them behind his back. A reservation neither of us remembers, he suddenly thinks as he strolls quietly towards the dining room. Truly odd. Tucking the thought away in his mind (there’s always time to figure out mysteries like these), Nanami calls out, “Actually, honey, there’s a reason why I came home late today.”

“I was just about to ask. What was it?” You’re almost done setting the table when Nanami walks through the archway with a bouquet of flowers almost as broad as his shoulders.

“Holy shit.”

He laughs, filling the room with its bell-like sound. “For the lady.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you walk over and take the bouquet from his arms, cradling it like a baby. Each petal is fresh and alive and so vibrantly pink. It’s obvious that a lot of care went into this bouquet, and it only touches you further that your husband went to such lengths to guarantee you’d only get the best flowers possible. “Thank you, darling. What’s the special occasion?”

“No occasion,” Nanami says, shrugging. “Just that I love you. And I wanted to remind you that, even on days where nothing happens and it feels like we’re just going through the motions –” he takes your free hand and hunches over to kiss the ring on your fourth finger “– knowing I get to share every day with you gives me joy to look forward to.”

Happy marriage. It’s true and that’s all there is to say about it.

You’re unable to form words. Nanami Kento, the subtle, quiet lover, being loud with affection for once. An indescribable warmth spreads all throughout your body. “Ken…” Tears prick at your eyes as you set the bouquet down on the table and rush into his arms, peppering his face with kisses. “I love you,” you murmur in his ear. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you. Thank you.”

Nanami grins, cradling your face in his large palms. “I should do this more often,” he says, letting out a breathy chuckle when you nod instantly. “I’m sorry. I’ll work on – ” You cut him off with a slow but eager kiss, snaking your arms around his neck and tugging him closer to deepen it. If Nanami had been surprised by your interruption he doesn’t show it – his lips, soft and plump, move in complete synchronization with yours. He tastes like tea and honey and he smells like he always does, of wood and spice and the beach. It’s intoxicating and completely dangerous how irresistible he is and you can’t get enough of him.

The truth is, every real kiss with Nanami feels like the first. And you can never get enough. But you are running out of air, so you break the kiss first and rest your forehead against his, feeling his hot breath fan across your cheeks.

“You’re perfect,” you whisper, stroking his cheek with the pad of your thumb. “I wouldn’t want anyone else as my husband.”

Nanami quirks one corner of his mouth up and covers your hand with his, turning his head to kiss its palm. “If I had another life to live after this one, I’d marry you in that one, too.”

A prolonged growl from Nanami’s stomach interrupts your sweet moment.

“I think your stomach objects.”

“Maybe we should shove something down it, like dinner.”

Grinning, you slip out of your husband’s reach and beckon him to follow you into the kitchen.

“This salmon is delicious,” Nanami remarks, taking another bite off his fork.

“Thank you,” you beam. “I found a recipe while I was at work today and thought I’d try it out. Honey garlic salmon. My life is forever changed and so is yours, by extension. You’re welcome.”

Nanami chuckles, ready to respond with a dry comment about ‘having no choice,’ but then that odd email you’d shown him earlier resurfaces in his mind. “Speaking of changes. Should we cancel that Gary Danko reservation?”

You hum, thinking back to the letter as you chew. It seems like the most logical thing to do. After all, neither of you remembers making the reservation. The ambiguity surrounding its existence is unsettling enough to warrant cancellation, but something in you just wants to see what might happen. Swallowing your food, you say, “Don’t you think it’s strange that it has our names on it? I think we should consider going.”

“What if it’s a scam?”

“Then we go home, order Indian takeout, and watch a war documentary until we both fall asleep.”

Unconvinced, Nanami sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest, the navy fabric of his button-up tightening around his muscles. “We should call them first, figure out if they know anything.”

“You’re right,” you say, and then you pause before adding, “And if they don’t?”

You’re done speaking but Nanami knows that sentence isn’t finished, and that the other unspoken half is: can we still go? The truth is – and he’s told you many times – that your unpredictability is the most predictable thing about you. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, eyes darting across your face as he contemplates his answer.

It’s not that Nanami is an overprotective husband or needlessly suspicious of every odd thing in life. It’s that he somehow cannot remember a single second of his life before today, the same day this email arrived. To be more accurate, he feels like he has those memories inside him. Somewhere, deep in his brain, he vaguely remembers what things like a “fifth birthday” or “first wedding anniversary” look like. They just feel out-of-reach. Regardless, he’s absolutely certain that things aren’t exactly right. But you look so excited and utterly unaware of his predicament, so it must be something only he’s experiencing and he doesn’t want to burden you with this problem.

“If you really want to go, then we’ll go,” Nanami concludes, taking a sip of his wine. “After all, the wife…”

“… is always right,” you finish for him. “Well, sometimes the husband is, too, but in this specific context, for unspecified reasons, the wife is most definitely correct.” The grin on your face almost puts his worries to rest.

(Almost.)

You call Gary Danko after dinner and they confirm your reservation.

“Sorry if this sounds, um, weird, but would you mind reminding me when we made this reservation?” you ask, walking in circles around the kitchen.

“Not at all!” Some typing noises travel through the receiver before the man you were talking to says, “Actually, you didn’t make the reservation.”

You make eye contact with Nanami who’s lightly rinsing the plates from dinner. “Pardon?”

“No, it was a Miss Amanda Priestly who called us and reserved the table for you two days ago on October 31st. Does that name sound familiar?”

Nanami raises his brows. That’s your boss.

“Um, yeah. I know her, thank you,” you say, frowning. What on earth is your boss doing reserving tables at Michelin-rated restaurants for you and your husband?

“She left a message, too, in case you were, quote, ‘confused,’ unquote. She says, ‘Mimsy, thank you for your help on the Modish Winter look book. Dinner is on me. Kisses, AP.’”

And suddenly, everything falls into place. All those late nights you spent analyzing old trends and predicting the next season’s rush into your memory. For a month, you pretty much lived in your office down the hall from your editor-in-chief. You barely even had time to sleep. It makes sense that Amanda would show her thanks for the effort you put into the project, but you hadn’t expected her to. After all, she’s Amanda Priestly. She still calls you Mimsy instead of your real name.

“Oh, of course!” you laugh, looking over at Nanami. He sends you a curious look before putting the rinsed plates into the dishwasher. “Thank you for your help.”

“My pleasure.”

The call ends and you tuck your phone in your pocket as you say, “Mystery solved.”

“Hmm,” Nanami says, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. “The Modish Winter Look Book. For some reason, I don’t remember you working on that.” In fact, he doesn’t remember you working at a magazine company at all, although he can’t put his finger on what job he used to think you had. What is going on?

“Really?” you ask, reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers together. “You don’t remember that time I ran into our office with four different tweed blazers and asked which one looked the most wintery?”

Nanami furrows his brows as a memory comes back to him. It was a sunny morning in early November when you ran into the home office with two blazers draped over each arm and forced him to rank them based on how well they exuded “winter energy.” Truthfully, he had no idea what he was doing, just that the one with more blue seemed most appropriate for wintertime.

“I just remembered,” he says, a look of amused confusion coming over his features. Today has been so strange. “Did the blue blazer make it to the final look?”

“One moment,” you say, disappearing into the living room and returning with an advanced, rough copy of Modish’s Winter Fashion Edition. “It’s not out yet, but…” you trail off as you flip through the pages, pointing when you get to the one you were looking for “… here’s your contribution to the magazine.”

The blue blazer, in all its glory, smack dab in the middle of the section that says “TRENDS TO SAY GOODBYE TO.”

“Ouch.”

“Well, you predicted something,” you giggle, placing a hand on his chest. “Fashion might be your calling, Ken.”

He smiles wryly. “I’m hanging up.”

[thesevro]

99 bottles / nanami k.

𝖓𝖆𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖎 𝖐𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖘𝖙 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 874 words

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: SEXUAL themes, sex while inebriated, angst, themes of CHEATING

THE JAPANESE ARE passionate about one thing, and one thing only.

Drinking.

The singular bottle in your hand had multiplied to two. Then to three. Then into four bottles of well-aged wine that now sat on the marble counter like a lonely flock of dehydrated storks, completely empty of their sousing contents.

Nanami has always had a good handle over his emotions.  A good handle over his vices, and the rare instances of desire that sprout inside him upon viewing what might be the laced undergarments of some woman. It is the smallest thing women can ask of him, and he has always intended to follow through with it.

But when his brain feels as if it has been marinated in alcohol, as if his hands have been charged with the intoxication of the same libation, and you sit so close to him he can smell your perfume and look into your eyes more closely than he has ever seen them, he has no idea how it is he is supposed to maintain his control.

He could see it in the rogue pink of your cheeks after those first two glasses. In the quiet way you'd asked for his hand and traced lovely invisible circles into his palm. In the way you'd smiled at him with the mouth of the girl he has always loved but never told.

Loving you would be dangerous, but he does it now. No restrictions, no boundaries, nothing standing in his way. Though so many things stand in yours.

He'd kissed you then. He could taste the deep flavor of purple fruit on your tongue. He thought that would be enough to satiate both you and him.

But then you'd let your fingers fall over the back of his neck. Let the digits twine into his hair like winding spools of spiderweb string. And you'd kissed him deeper, your tongue in his mouth.

He'd pushed all of it away. All his inhibitions, all the lies he has told himself.

I do not love her. I do not need her.

You'd moaned his name into his starving mouth, and he'd felt his appetite burgeon like a monstrous lifeform popping out of an alien egg. All his truths had spilled so freely from your pretty mouth.

"My bed," he'd groaned desperately then. "Let me have you there..."

Blue eyes flash across his vision as he pushes you down onto the bed, and he blocks them out. He cannot think of the shame now. Not when he can finally have you. Not when you finally lie in his arms and not that of another man's.

Please. Just this once.

"Kento," you whisper as he leaves your mouth. He has always dreamed of waking up to you sleeping next to him. You lie on his bed now, your hair fanned across his wrinkled pillow. Face a blushing mess.

"Shh, my love," he reassures with one last kiss to your swollen mouth. He'd ravaged you too much. "I promise to make you feel good."

You shiver at the words. He sees and feels his cock pulse.

Nanami spreads your legs with gentle hands. He hooks one finger into your panties and slides them off your wonderful legs. Tosses it aside without a second thought. All he wants is you.

He leaves the whisper of a kiss on the inside of your thigh. Looks up at the obvious anticipation on your face. Then gets his first real look of your weeping folds as he opens your legs further.

He sighs a breath of awe into your core. It is warmth that drips cold down your arching spine. He lets his tongue slide from his mouth and onto you.

I can love you better than he can.

You cry out softly, both your hands moving to quiet your sounds of pleasure. Nanami tells you to let go, because he knows that this will be the first and only time he can love you like this.

He slips his tongue into your convulsing hole with a satisfied hum oscillating in his chest. You taste sweet as candy.

He savors your warmth. Let it be a dream he will only be able to live through once. He will cherish it forever.

His hands hold your thighs open in a clutching vise. He cannot let you go. Nanami suckles on your clit with his nose inhaling the delightful musk of your swelling pussy. Your folds bloom and taste like fresh fruit.

There are three words lying locked in his throat. When he rises from between your legs with his mouth and the fingers of one hand shining with your slick, he thinks of saying them.

But he has already had what he thinks is enough of his fill. If he told you... he would never be able to let you go. Never be able to watch you go back to him.

So he lets it translate into his kisses instead. In the thrusts he pushes into your body while you make drunken love. A love that he knows must remain temporary. A love that he has to let go.

[maisbunny]

𝙥𝙖𝙥𝙚𝙧 𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | 𝘬.𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘪 

PAIRING: nanami x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Promised paper rings, broken hearts, and stolen eternities—all at the expense of the fictional.

CONTAINS: angst, major character death

WORD COUNT: 1.0k

The air was cool where you sat, taking in the view before you. You two were merely children back then. Two kids who were making the most of a grim situation.

“What’s this?” You asked, holding up your tiny left hand towards the sun and admiring the piece of paper wrapped around your finger.

Nanami looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world, tilting his head to the side and raising an eyebrow. “It’s a ring.”

“A ring...made of paper?” You smiled with your eyes full of wonder, staring at the ring as if it were made of gold.

“A ring made of paper,” he repeated your question as a statement, bringing both his knees up to his chest and hugging them with a grin spread across his features—an expression you didn’t see quite often from him. “One day, when we’re all grown up, I’ll buy you a real one. Then we can be together forever.”

Nanami looked straight ahead like a man on a mission, the heat of the sun not nearly as ablaze as the fire of determination that ignited in his eyes. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“We’ll see about that,” you sighed in contentment of the moment, “you’re all bark and no bite.”

The laughter you two had shared echoed all throughout the plains of the riverbank, and resonated in the ears of all the people passing by.

Thousands of memories just like these were etched into your mind like a scar that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times you tried to scrub. For when you thought of Kento, all you could see was the scenic view of an orange sunset projecting onto his skin, his golden locks falling over his forehead, and his smile glowing like all the world’s spotlight was on him.

Everything seemed so simple. Neither of you were prepared for the world you had yet to face. You listened to the stories he told you every night when he arrived home from work. You knew about the circumstances of his job, but just because you knew he was a jujutsu sorcerer, didn’t mean you understood the complexities of it. You could never truly grasp how grotesque and cruel curses could be. Not until Gojo stood knocking at your door at 4:17 in the morning.

Groggy eyes and messy hair presented themselves in the mirror of the hallway—your view still disoriented from the daze of slumber.

“Gojo? What are you doing here at this time?”

Though his eyes were sealed behind the fabric wrapped around his head, you could tell they did not gleam as they did before. His mouth was pursed in a tight lipped smile, jaw clenched in an effort to bite back his tongue before saying something he’d regret. The version of himself that was situated in front of you was no longer the happy-go-lucky man he usually was. Instead, he was solemn. The mere fact made you nauseous; fear welling up in the pit of your stomach.

“Let’s go inside,” he stated, but it was closer to a whisper.

The city skyline that illuminated the living room through the floor length window felt lively compared to the inside of your Tokyo apartment—which was now filled with an atmosphere of sorrow. Gojo took your hands in his, calming the chill that erupted from your bones, and placed something small in them. Something cold. Something that gave you all the answers to the questions that lingered in your mind.

“Nanami, he didn’t m—”

“I know,” you shut your eyes and felt your cheeks dampen as you cut him off with a whisper. You already knew what he was going to say. Nanami, he didn’t make it. The unfinished phrase echoed in your ears and your throat felt like sandpaper as you tried to hold in your sobs. “W-we had our whole lives ahead of us. He was supposed to be home by six,” he pulled you into his arms and rubbed your back to soothe the ache, “Gojo, I can’t even see them. How could he be killed by something I can’t see? How can the imaginary take so much away from me?”

“He saved lives,” was all that Gojo could mutter in response.

You opened up your palms to look at the object of your affection and wondered how long he’d kept this in his pocket, waiting for the right opportunity to pop the question. A question that would remain unasked until the end of time.

You shrugged your shoulders and tried to calm your trembling voice. “You know, when we were kids, he promised me he’d buy me a real one.”

“He kept his promise, didn’t he?”

Your eyes scanned the floorplan of the space, imagining what it would’ve been like to build a family within those walls—your gaze residing on the tiled floor when the emptiness of it all left a ringing in your ears. “I would’ve preferred to keep him.”

The air was cool where you sat, the spot which you’d indirectly claimed as your own feeling lonelier without your other half. You watched the sun settle over the horizon, the stage on which it glowed missing its star. The world felt as if it had gotten much darker too quickly—the ring which you were holding up to the sky no longer glistening against the sunlight.

Standing up from your spot and taking the wisp of the willow tree in your fingers, you tied the ring to its branch. In the abyss of night, from afar, at just the right angle, the moonlight hit the diamond in such a way that the ring lost among the leaves seemed as if it were another star in the sky.

You walked away from your spot for the last time, taking all the golden memories of him with you, and confided in the wailing melodies of the wind, “Maybe forever isn’t for everyone.”

all work belongs to maisbunny 2021 © do not copy, modify, or repost my work on any platform.

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[zangyo]

@swordrisen​ said (inbox):

The tea's long gone cold but , she finds a reason to speak ; looking at him fondly as ever. ❛❛ I wonder sometimes if people know how lucky they are to have met someone like you , who looks at people tenderly even if they cannot see it , who cares , who has such a good heart. I wonder if you know how many people do love you though. Like me for one. Sometimes , your kindness overwhelms me. ❜❜ There's an appearance of tears in her eyes but yet , she smiles. ❛❛ I don't like talking about my feelings. I hate it when I'm hurting but you always see it & you always do something to make me happy again. Don't think I don't know it. ❜❜ Her arms thread forth , tugging him into a tight hug. ❛❛ Thank you for being born , Kento - kun , for being willing to stay by my side , for laughing with me & hugging me. Thank you for simply being alive. ❜❜ [ SLAPS SOME SOFT ON YOUR FOREHEAD because it's what you deserve uwu ]

     SOMETIMES KOTO SAID THINGS that embarrassed him greatly, and the words that flowed from her lips as easily as water down a river was enough to make him frown deeper – eyes instantly glued on the faint steam wafting from his tea. She had said such things to him when they were both so much younger as well, long before responsibilities and exhaustion sank into bones. Even after all this time, rather than being used to anything she would tell him in concerns to himself, Nanami still felt awkward. What was he supposed to say in regards to anything to said, anyway? ‘Thank you’? Lifting his cup towards his lips, he blew upon the green liquid within before taking a small sip and allowing the flavor of green tea to spread across his tongue. ❝I’m sure there are others like myself out there. I’m hardly anything special, Koto-san.❞ But she would always say otherwise; adamantly so as if to ensure that her praise took root within his heart and was finally accepted.

     Then again, not all sorcerers held the same beliefs he did about others. Some fought and killed out of duty rather than actual care towards those whose lives they saved. This would never be so for Nanami. Though there were times he questioned why he returned to being a jujutsu sorcerer, one look at Itadori – at the OTHERS – served as his reminder. His gaze turned back to Koto, surprise flickering in his eyes the moment he caught sight of tears glistening in her own. Silent for a moment, he said nothing as he allowed what was said to linger in the air between them a little longer. Comfort was not something that he had ever been skilled at. He was practical, straight to the point, even. Yet, somehow, perhaps it was the fact that he was so sincere that touched the heart of another. Tea gently placed back down, he barely had a chance to formulate a thought before arms wrapped around him.

     ‘Thank you for simply being alive.’

     ‘Thank you for being born.’

     Gratitude like this was so foreign and odd to him that he struggled to something to say once more. ❝You are making it rather hard for me to say anything,❞ Nanami grumbled, arms lifting to wrap around her smaller form. ❝All of that thanks should be aimed in your direction too, you know.❞ Even when he had fallen into a deep pit of depression, going about his day to day like a machine more than a human being, rather than leaving him be, Koto still came around to speak to him. His one tie to a world he wanted to completely cut himself away from. That single tether that kept him from fully floating away to heights none could reach no matter how hard they tried. ❝You can be such a stubborn woman…but I appreciate that you are like this.❞ She was always going on about his heart, but hers was just as big. It was just that Koto wore hers on her sleeve far better than he did.

     A flame forever burning bright…

     That was what she was.

[satorusugurugurl]

Caught You

Summary: Detective Nanami has you; a notorious criminal right where he wants you. Bent over the counter, handcuffed, and legs spread!

Pairing: Nanami Kento x AFAB!Reader

Warning: language, mentions of a 🔫, rleplay, rough sex, cop play, handcuffs, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: Kinktober day four: Detective/Criminal! I am guilty Detective Nanami, I need to be punished 🥵

Nanami sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose as he looked at your house. This was it; he was going to do it. The metal of his badge reflected off the street lamp above him as his eyes remained transfixed on the two-story house he had been staring at. He had a plan, a play-by-play of what he would do.

He wasn't going to screw this up.

Here it goes; he’s been searching for you for such a long time—a notorious serial killer whose days of luck had finally run out. You had been nothing more than a significant pain in his ass for the last three years of his career. Nanami had missed you several times before, but tonight would be different. Unlike the other times before when you were out in public, where you could slip away from officers in the crowd quickly, you were at home, this time in the comfort of your own house.

There would be no escape, not this time.

Nanami exited his car, gripping the gun in his holster as he approached the house; he breathed in and out through his nose, keeping himself aware of his surroundings as he walked up to your back door. Seeing no cars in the driveway, he assumed you weren’t home, giving him the perfect opportunity to gather evidence to get you booked away forever.

He eyed the inside of your house before grabbing the doorknob and giving it a turn. He was surprised to find that it had been left unlocked. This was easier than he thought. It would be almost too easy. Pushing aside his concern, Nanami cautiously headed into your house as he entered your living room. He kept his honey-brown eyes focused on every dark corner you could be hiding around. But much to his relief, the living room and dining room were cleared. You were nowhere to be found. But as he entered the kitchen, he saw you. Covered in blood and splatters in your hair, which was a chaotic mess as you washed off a knife in the sink.

This was the perfect opportunity he had been hoping for. Nanami Kento finally had you right where he wanted you.

He pulled out his gun, aiming it directly at you. “Freeze,” he commanded, watching you drop the knife into the sink in momentary shock.

Once the shock wore off, you grinned up at the handsome man. “Detective Nanami.” you heard of licking off a speck of blood from the top of your lip. “ what a pleasant surprise!”

“Shut up and put your hands behind your back.”

“Soo bossy~!” There was an almost condescending talking to your voice, but you did as he said, placing both hands behind your back. “You're lucky you’re handsome. I wouldn’t take this shit from just anyone.”

“Yeah—shut up.” The cool chill of handcuffs latched around your wrists as you grinned mischievously, rocking back against his clad bulge. “Stop that.”

The anger in his voice didn't deter your actions. It only made you want to push this stuck-up detective further. You purred, fingers twitching as you rolled your hips sensually against the bulge, grinning ear to ear as you felt his cock twitch within the confines of his dress pants. The feel of his erection hardening against the fat of your ass had liquid heat pooling between your legs.

With each slow roll of your hips, Nanami felt his self-control snapping like the threads of a thick rope. He observed you, those warm-hued eyes focusing on your hips, before watching your fingers curl in as you bit down on your bottom lip with a satisfied groan. You were insatiable.

But now was not the time to lose himself in the feel of you grinding down on his cock. “Oooh, Detective Nanami~ is that your gun?” You felt his cock twitch from your words, and it was those words that had him snarling above you in pure annoyance. “Oooh~ is it loaded?” That was the final push Nanami needed.

His hand left your arm, grabbing a handful of your hair and forcing you to look at him as he slammed his lips against yours. You gasped, but your eyes fluttered before shutting. You hadn't been expecting him to lose control so suddenly, but you eagerly accepted it, kissing him back as you continued rocking yourself back with a whimper.

“You little minx.” The sweet smell of cinnamon and musk flooded your senses, making you feel drunk from his scent alone. But as his lips trailed over your neck, you found yourself melting your breasts pressed against the island counter. “Pushing me, trying to make me lose control.” his large hands grabbed your lips, pulling them back so your ass was sticking out. “You want this? For me to be mean, to lose control?” His dress shoes tapped your ankle, forcing you to spread your legs. “Fine, I can be the bad cop.”

His voice was sultry and full of smoke. Sending shivers down your spine as you ached for more. “Ooh yeah~ give it to me.” The was a hiss in the air before his hand connected with the fat of your ass. “Nngh!” Nanami scoffed, leaning closer to your ears as he ground his hardening erection against your already wet core.

“What was that? I barely spanked you. I thought you wanted me to lose control.

“I do!” another slap across your ass had you whimpering in pain and pleasure.

“Such a dirty needy slut. You needed this, didn't you?”

He spanked you several more times, leaving your assatinging in the perfect way as your legs shook. “Yes! I need it, Detective! I need you so bad.” Nanami’s palm began massaging your ass, rubbing out the sting.

“You need it bad enough to give up your life of crime?”

“Yes!”

There was a beat of silence before Nanami squeezed your ads. “You promise you’ll be a good girl for me?” Nanami questioned, his lips brushing against the tip of your ear, his hot breath tickling your over-sensitive, heated skin. Nodding your head in response to his question, your fingers twitched, the cool metal of the handcuffs digging into your wrists with a delicious sting. Picking up on your desperation, Nanami reached down, unfastening his belt; the sound of the metal clacking and zipper being pulled down had you squirming. “Good Girl.” He growled, nipping at your earlobe as he pulled his pants and boxers down, allowing them to pool around his ankles.

Those strong hands then reached down, pulling your own shorts down. The second they dropped to the ground, Nanami spit into his hand, lubing up his erect cock before pressing the head against your throbbing center until the tip made it past the tight ring of muscles. Your fingers curled in as you took deep, shallow breaths, adjusting to his size.

With each inhale and exhale you took, Nanami pushed himself deeper inside of you. He kept that up until he was balls deep inside of your tight wet pussy. Kento’s hips stilled as you both breathed heavily, adjusting to the feeling of him stretching your walls in a sinfully satisfying way. The pleasure was rushing through the two of you, pushing you both dangerously close to the edge, but neither of you was ready for that pleasure to end just yet.

You wanted it to last; hell, you didn’t want this feeling ever to end.

“God,” Nanami growled in your ear, slowly beginning to thrust in and out of you, “fuck.”

You gasped, hearing the clean-decorated detective cursing as he pushed himself deeper inside of you, “Holy shit.” He thrust a bit harder, your pussy burning in the best way with every drag of his cock inside of you. Every move left you longing for more from him; every touch and caress of skin left you wanting more. So you pushed back against him, forcing his cock to slip deeper inside of you. The head of it slammed against your cervix, causing your back to arch as sweat began beading along your forehead. “Detective Nanami, fuck, you’re so fucking big.” Whining, you pushed yourself back more, wanting to feel every inch of him buried deep inside of you.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, Love?” He gripped your hips harder, thrusting faster and harder inside of you. “You like it when I fuck you like this? Punish you for being such a pain in my ass?” He planted kisses down the back of your neck; the only sound was your moans and skin slapping against your skin. “You’ve been so fucking naughty.”

“I-I,” you tried to speak, but a moan escaped your lips instead, “I am naughty, Detective; I’m such a bad girl for you; please be sure to punish me thoroughly.”

He growled, moving faster inside of you, his balls slapping against your skin with each thrust. “Yeah? You want me to punish you? Fuck you into submission?” You groaned loudly at his words, and as he moved faster, both of your orgasms came closer to slamming into the two of you.

“Yes! Nanami, I'm yours! All yours.” You arched your back against him, trying to keep up in time with his thrusts. The handcuffs dug harder into your wrists, holding your hands in place as Nanami fucked you hard.

It didn’t take long until the two of you were moving in perfect timing with each other. Every touch pushed both of you closer to the edge, and you both wouldn’t stop until you met that sweet, blissful ending. It was the perfect way to end a long, stressful evening.

Your senses were swimming with the chill from the handcuffs, the smell of cinnamon and musk, and how Nanami lifted you, pressing your back against his chest. He kissed you as the familiar tightening of muscles in your abdomen had you throwing your head back against Nanami’s shoulder. They clamped and curled tighter and tighter with every stroke of his cock along your inner walls. “Nanami, fuck, I’m close! Whatever you do, don’t fucking stop; I’m gonna cum!”

“You’re going to cum for me, Love?” Nodding your head, you felt Nanami’s hands reach down, gripping your hips in a vice. “You want to come all over my thick cock, pretty girl?”

“Yes,” you begged as your breasts bounced as his thrusts became harder, “I want to cum for you; I want you to know how good you make me feel, Nanami.”

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his movements becoming erratic as he came closer to his climax. “Do it, cum Love, come for me.” His words sent you over the edge, and you came hard, his hand reaching up to cover your mouth as you came. His teeth bit down into your shoulder as his seed coated your walls, the two of you coming together.

Once the white dots started to fade and you remembered to breathe, you looked back at Nanami, a smile curled on your lips, and you saw the blissful smile plastered on his face. He grinned while looking at you through half-closed eyes. You both were in no hurry to move and just enjoying the post-orgasmic glow.

“I need to pull out,” Nanami whispered as you whined at his movements. “I need to get these cuffs off of you.”

You hummed, licking at the fake blood that still covered your lip. The taste of strawberries and chocolate danced over your tongue as your husband unfastened the handcuffs. The second your wrists were free, he gently took them in his hand and gently kissed them.

“You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No, I'm great.” You dazily grinned as your husband lifted you off the ground. “I didn’t think you’d go for this.”

Nanami rolled his eyes, turning the lights off in the kitchen before treading through the house. “My darling wife wanted to roleplay and use the handcuffs I had. How could I ever deny her?” You giggled, burying your face in his neck.

“Our party went off as a huge success.”

Nanami resisted the urge to nuzzle against you, carrying you into the bathroom instead. “It was, but I don’t think we’re done yet.” He placed you on the counter, tugging your fake bloody shirt up and over your head, throwing it to the ground. “I need to conduct a thorough investigation.” You squealed as he forced your legs apart with a smirk. “I need you to spread your legs, Ma’am.”

“Of course, Detective~” What sort of beast had you awakened!? Not that you were complaining.

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