#nanami kento x male reader

[dabisbratz]

𝑀𝐸𝑅𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒰𝐸 𝒟𝒪𝐿𝐿 — kento nanami x male!reader

himbo!reader , farmer!au , strangers/friends/lovers , meet - cute , inaccurate farming techniques , lawyer!nanami , slow burn , depictions of injury ( minor burns ) , check - ins , dumbification , vaguely implied age gap (~5 years) , hand kink , inexperienced reader , light feminization , blowjobs , anal , mating press , fingering , hand-holding , praise , degradation , slut - calling , dirty talk , spit / drool , under-negotiated kink , aftercare

w.c; ~ 13.8k

sonny says. . . naaamiiii !!! {cry} {cry} mbaby :c can ybelieve s’is mfirst nami fic ?!?! just tbe clear, the reader’s size or height isn’t explicitly stated, but he’s vaguely hinted toward bein/appearin physical stronger than nanami.

‘ Next stop: Sekichiku ’

When he wakes up, Kento expects sunlight peeking through greenery— warm, yellow rays of light that dance and flicker across his eyelids. Warm, yellow beams that caress his cheek like the knuckles of someone tender, the palms of someone sweeter. It’ll overwhelm him at first, so bright and unapologetic as his eyes adjust and focus, but he’ll quickly crash, pupils constricting as the disturbance dwindles. And, suddenly, the star’s saturation will be comforting. It’ll be like a second. Just slower paced, peaceful. He expects the rustle of leaves, connected to strong branches and even stronger roots that dig into deep, rich soil. He expects to roll over in his temporary bed, breathing gently beneath shade, shielding his eyes from the welcoming invasion and blanketing him in a seamless flow of cool air.

When he wakes, Kento expects to hear the chirping of birds. It’s never quite enough to hear them in Tokyo. The strum of wind as it tickles his nose and pushes him forward. The swaying of grass— the smell is still so freshly imprinted in his brain, as it makes his head swim while crystal drops glide across its surface — a coarse underfoot of greenery that prickles the souls of his feet.

Tranquility by his side, urging him to get out of bed, chirping in an excited voice as it tugs on his wrist. He expects solitude, rolling its tangerine eyes and tapping its foot impatiently, “This is the break you’ve waited twenty-seven years for.”

But, instead, he finds himself clutching his chest, his heart beating with an unfamiliar pace that isn’t so calm. His body feels cold, like he’s been submerged in the deepest part of the ocean, unrelenting and ruthless as wave after wave crashes into his ribcage. The static in his ears grows louder and louder, ready to combust and burst his eardrums. Instead of the rustle of leaves, the cruel hustle and bustle of city life storms forward against his chest, shoving him back and forth. Back and forth, to and fro, against his body as his knuckles turn white and his vision starts to spot. Back and forth, as he comes undone.

It’s been so long, he’s not quite sure just how to unwind.

He starts off slow, swallowing air in desperate heaps until his legs relax, spreading toward the cushion arms of his faux-velvet chair. Then he flexes his fingers, draws them into tight fists and releases the digits until the shaking has stopped. Sips his complimentary white-wine with newfound steadiness, and tries not to choke when the intercoms ring,

‘Now approaching: Sekichiku.’

It’s a quaint little village, your district, where everyone knows everyone and the news is always, no matter where you are, city-wide. Stone-clad pavement and moss decalled windows, there’s a small blanket of achroous fog further north of town square. Yet, despite that, there’s an ever growing city of greenery and agriculture. With a small population and himself being the only passenger to unload at the station, it seems to be a lot busier than he’d originally thought. Street-food stalls and vendors, selling freshly baked goods and syrupy, savory sweets. It’s not like Tokyo, no, there’s no rush. No pushing or shoving, no overcrowded lines, no smells of smoke and burnt coal.

In fact, the air is rather crisp— the further his legs take him, the more apparent. No longer are his lungs breathing in the stench of sickness or body odors, no longer is he pushing past the fortunate, just to shove the unfortunate. And, admittedly, it’s a bit of a culture shock— but it’s not unwelcome. Regardless, Kento keeps his suitcase close, pushes it forward, sidestepping polite smiles and local shop owners.

He basks in it. The genuine nature to it all, the healthy glow of the atmosphere despite the steam, the fog, the chill to the air. He considers this a luxury— the closest to a vacation he’ll get, even if he’s technically ‘on the clock.’ Still— he soaks in the sights of hugging trees, of mossy roads and cobblestone streets. The colorful banners that jump with life, the lanterns and yellow-lighting that illuminates the day— he’s sure at night they’re even more wondrous. And, oh, the smells. Not at all like tokyo— there isn’t an overwhelming mixture of perfumes and colognes, no fast-food chains competing through aromatic smells, no heavy scents of tobacco littering the air. It's crisp, it’s ripe.

He almost takes no offense to the collision against his side— nor the screeching sound of surfaces grinding against each other, nor the loud and abrasive cry of the man bumping into him, accompanied by the crack of an apple’s core against the ground.

“Woah,” Warm breaths pan down the base of his neck, even warmer hands wrapping around his bicep with strength Nanami is sure shouldn’t be normal for a typical, everyday civilian. He involuntarily grunts, a deep sound that rumbles in his throat and earns an eager, yet apologetic chuckle. “You alright? Y’almost went flyin’!”

His brows furrow quizzically at that. First— he’s certain it’s the latter who nearly lost an arm and a leg with his tumble. Second, he hadn’t expected such a youthful, bouncy voice from the very stature shadowing acast him. Not even a bit, it doesn’t match the muscle straining through thermal clothing at all, let alone the sheer square feet of area being taken up by one person. Blocking his vision almost completely, standing straight— at an angle— that blocks a stall for fresh produce and flaky, steaming bread. The goods speak for themselves, crusted over in golden brown mountains and cloud-like, moist cross-sections.

Swallowing, Kento nods, eyeing the poorly drawn sign for fresh bread. Drawn in sharpie, the prices are written in big, bold, red letters. Endearing, almost, the curve and loop of each letter and number— the lines of each to-scale doodle of bread. Nothing like Tokyo, not nearly as artificial, not perfectly clean-cut. Not so cookie-cutter. There’s some personality in it, as juvenile as it may be. And it’s a shame, really, how promising the stand looks. Apples that shine a golden shade of red, bread that’s glazed in a sweet, sticky layer of yellow molasses and savory honey. And though he’d love to indulge, Kento has yet to label himself as the type. “Great, thank you.” Is all he says, pulling his suitcase along the perimeter of the stand.

Some other time, then.

The days are long as they are hard. The sun has yet to fully set, and still, the Earth pulls and pulls to weigh it down onto your shoulders. The sky is painted in hues of orange and purple, strokes of tangerine and lavender roaming past your bird's eye view. Your back pops as you stretch, arms tensing against the woven basket of leftover harvest, shiny red fruits aligned with the horizon and reaching toward the tiny glimpse of departing stars.

Where blossoms grow from tiny seeds, and orchids dance in gentle breeze— beds upon beds of farmland and agriculture drape the outskirts of the farmstead. Though the weather is turning, branches are starting to grow bare and bloom in color, the wind picks up its seasonal chill, and the clouds have begun to dissipate into the sky. . . The well-received proof of your hard work is still something to behold.

“—ome any minute, now,” You’ve heard it all before, your mother gossiping to her farmer-wife friends as she nurses sweet teas and tangerine tiramisu under her calloused, warm hands. You’d been a mere two steps away from where she sits at the open-island kitchen, shoes tipped in the illuminated speckle of celadon clearing just adjacent to the sliding, front, cedarwood door. “Said so, at least. Did you hear. . . ” Windchimes sing in welcome, soft and mellow as the door opens and shuts behind you, socked feet slipping from boots to warm, fuzzy slippers.

“M’back, Mama,” You mumble, half-humming along to the tune of muffled windchimes the further you walk, arms hoisting the overflowing basket up to your chest. A sweet sigh, then pitter-patter of fleece against parquetry, and the discovery of a sweet, cherry-red ladybug walking along your knuckles, leads to the basket securely placed on a free countertop. There’s a quirk of her brow, something of a gentle question— more of a suggestion— not completely committed to keeping two conversations at once. How’d it go?

“No luck sellin’ today,” your voice buds, small and soft as your eyes trail the curves of a particularly large waste of an apple. An evident pout on your lips, then a quiet huff of air.

Farming has been your whole life, really. It’s what you’re best at, good at. Ever since you were young, barely tall enough to push away tall-grass— barely strong enough to pull out weeds, you knew it was yours. Something special, gravel crumbling and breaking beneath heavy, solid boots and rubber tires. The remnants of small, flying rocks, pelting into each other and leaving behind white, gray smoke as your tractor comes to a slow, gradual halt.

“But I met someone new!” That peaks her attention, nothing short of a gasp coming from a pair of lips—identical to your own— and here come the questions. Was he blond? Oh, I knew it! Did he buy anything? Well, why not? Was he tall? Thought so. . . How about handsome? Come on, now. .

“He was . . hmm, pretty.” Is how you’d like to put it, raising a finger to the air in finality. Truth be told you don’t remember much about his appearance— it was more so his demeanor. He’d bumped into you— you think— and yet, there was something so smooth about him. Not even his slicked hair, wavy at the end and curved just right to frame his face and bleed into the bristles of his blond undercut. He’d carried on like it was nothing, still polite, even admired your handiwork on your stall’s banner. A sweet thing of a stranger.

“You’re so easily impressed,” The smile dusting your lips curls into a wee, nasty little frown. That’s just not true. “A good thing, too, you’ll have to like our new neighbor.”

Her voice melting through one ear and out the other like freshly harvested honey has your throat tied into a thick knot, stuck right at the base of your neck and only growing in size. Hands thrumming against the granite countertop, your body leans inward.

“Neighbor?”

“Mm,” She hums, landline trapped between her ear and sweater-clad shoulder. You’re not entirely sure if it’s toward you or her friend, either way, her conversation stays ambiguous. “I heard he’s some fancy lawyer. You think he’s defendin’ the Hasaba girls from last year?”

That’s something to think about. Two little girls who’d been found locked away by some sort of— police officer, was he? Perhaps something more authoritative, and taken into his personal care. You wouldn’t be surprised if it became legalized— you’d only met that man (Suguru Geto, was it?) in passing, but his stature seemed dead-set on protecting those girls.

There’s a muffled gasp on the other line, crackly with static as a finger twirls around the phone’s coiled, mint wire. The rest of the conversation goes unheard, slippered feet carrying you to the large, alcove window that displays just enough equal farmland and neighborhood housing. And, sure enough, as if on cue, it’s not hard to make out the lines and shadows of the ‘ fancy ’ lawyer, his fluid silhouette effortlessly carrying luggage and— what looks to be— a box of books. Documents, perhaps.

“You didn’t— how come you didn’t say nothin’ ?!” Your excitement has you toppling over, limbs every which way as your face presses into the glass window. When you’re stuck in a place where everyone knows everyone, there’s something exhilarating about having a new neighbor. And he knows nothing.

There’s a quiet mumble that roughly translates to: ‘You didn’t ask.’, but it’s filtered out by the sound of your full-footed stomps. You opt to keep your slippers, racing toward the neglected basket, mind completely set. “I’ll be back, Ma!”

The path along your house isn’t dangerous, but it is harsh on bare feet— inured by heavy boots and pick-up trucks.. Still, it goes completely ignored as you carry the heaviest basket of goods you own, anxiety twisting and turning in your stomach— bunny hops into your chest and stomps and stomps and stomps. You’ve carried yourself past the intersection of the cobblestone path, a lot more smooth the closer it gets to the large, usually untouched, rental home. The lights are off— save for the dim, yellow glow of a small porch lamp resting above an unsullied, sleek and wooden rocking-chair. When there’s no one to inhabit the home, it’s always been comforting to look at— but now? .

Cold would be one way to put it. Your feet are cold, your arms are cold, your hands are cold, and you’re stood at his front door— frozen. Scared is another.

Even so, you’ve always been told you’re the ‘bravest boy’ in your whole district. Cry-baby habits and all.

The door opens before you can knock, and all you can register is brown. Brown wallpaper— the beige type, just barely meeting the requirement. Patterned with old, vintage looking floral prints. Brown, sleek wood of a bannister— steps that lead down into the living room, but are visible from the front door. Brown eyes, such a specific shade. When exposed to the light they almost look gray— green?— but as he stands before you, there’s nothing but molten chocolate and burnt honey-candy. A brown leather belt, securing crisp slacks and an equally crisp button up. You expect to see brown loafers, but—

Fuzzy slippers, brown and soft and cute. Little black buttons for eyes, and two floppy, fluffy ears— reminiscent of a bunny.

“Oh. . . Can I help you?” You’ve heard it before, his voice, but it’s even more striking than ever. It’s easy to forget the voice of someone you’d just met, but there’s something so. . distinct about it. He’s got a slight accent, too, something Tokyo-adjacent— you’ve always wanted to visit for longer than the feeble four hours of a busy work-trip.

“Mhm!” Pretty lips spread to their best grin, pulling at your cheeks until the babyfat wells up. “Well, no— um, actually. .” Brown eyes are expectant, but calm and patient as they watch you fumble over your words. Your fingers tremor as the basket is thrusted forward, heat blooming in your cheeks. “These— This is for you!”

“Ah. . .” Pink lips part, cupid’s bow prominent. There’s a beat of silence, then the sound of his front door closing with a slight click— right in your face. For a moment all you can do is stare, eyes boring into the dark, chestnut wood of the rustic front door. Staring until it’s gone blurry, eyes bubbling with fresh, unshed tears. And, nearly spilling over like an overflowing faucet, they gather before you can blink them away— fat and thick and embarrassing.

“Um. . I like your sli—slippers.” Fully aware you’re speaking to an unmoving door, you can’t behind yourself to walk back the moss-decalled path home. It’s not so cold anymore, your bones having rung out in the, metaphorical, hot sun until they’ve dried completely and— now it’s warm. Warmth in your nose, stinging as you sniffle and bite down a hiccup.

“Sorry for the wait,” Mahogany shifts, offset by a deep rumble of a voice, smooth like velvet in comparison to the sharp, slow creak of door hinges, “Here.”

Dam rebuilt almost immediately, your body straightens. Him again, this time his eyes trained on what he holds in his hand. Brown and gold like sweet honey and, by God, it’s the most crisp set of yen you’ve ever held in your life. His fingers dance with fluidity you’ve never seen before, counting through each slip until he’s deemed an amount satisfactory— there’s a slight patch of hair on each of his knuckles, an array of veins that cascade into his forearm. His fingertips look a bit rough, but his nails are glossy and clipped. Even his cuticles are pushed back, just enough to look healthy and natural.

“Oh! I wasn’t trying to—”

“I know it’s rude to tip, so I left the exact change,” You blink. Once, twice— again, lips parted like a fish, fresh out of water. Then he’s hoisting the basket from your trembling hands, eyes downcast. “Next time, don’t give out things you worked for, for free,” Right where his eyes dip, his monolid, there’s a small mole— cute and circular, and had you not been studying the curves of his face you wouldn’t have noticed it. “You should wear a coat, too.” And, like a schoolboy, you can’t help the flurry of butterflies catching flight in your stomach.

“Yes, Sir,” Pearly whites biting at the fleshy, pink insides of your cheek have your lips puckered, pensive and sweet as you clutch the money to your chest. “Sorry about earlier— um, if it’s okay, I could help with your boxes?”

He leans forward, careful enough to keep the respective bubble of space between the two of your bodies, glancing at heavy, book-piled boxes labeled ‘N.K.’ The woven basket creaks under the weight of his chest, but it stays in one place nonetheless. “That?” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine, just mail. Must’ve arrived before I did.”

It’s a bit awkward, really. Anticipation nips at your fingertips— you’ve never really had to work so hard to continue a conversation. You’ve never had to think about it either, if the words were coming out correct, if anyone was comfortable with your presence.

“Oh,” You breathe, subconsciously leaning closer. Perhaps it’s a miracle he hasn’t actually shut the door in your face, and— right. Your hands move to wipe away any streaks from your cheeks, a small sniffle ringing in the air. “Sorry f’I bothered you. I live, um, closest to the windmill. Yknow, just up the path from here. . . ?”

You haven’t known him for long, but you just can’t consider him comparable. Maybe it’s your heart speed-running past any other rational thought, maybe it’s the blooming heat in your chest, maybe it’s the shiver of winter trailing down your spine. You find yourself desperately hanging onto his every breath, only ever beaming when he shakes his head.

“Kento Nanami,” Tense shoulders relax with a deep inhale, the sweet smell of chocolate stuffed bread filling his nostrils. All that trepidation washes away, hushed under the breeze of Kento’s slow breaths. “Did you make these yourself?”

The door creaks, quiet and welcoming as Nanami extends an arm, stepping aside. Once his eyes finally settle on you they harden, just for a moment, as if he’s finally noticed the pull of your eyes— the crystalline seam tightlined around your waterline, the bright red strain of veins peeking behind your lids. Still, he says nothing, until you’ve introduce yourself with watery tremors.

“It’s cold, and you came all this way without a jacket?” Your eyes trace the vapor floating into the air as he sighs, irises dancing along the edge of your bare forearms. “Come in.”

Your muscles straighten up under his gaze, rippling until rigid as you eagerly nod, “Y’don’t think we could share some of that bread, d’you?”

The best time to farm, you’ve learned, is just after sunrise. The sun rests her head on grassy hills, still groggy and not quite awake yet, herself. But you are, suited up in your boots and overalls, not a single lantern in hand. That’s the first plus, natural lighting of the rising sun. The sweet, dim bath of light that paints the path from your home to your plantation in molten gold.

Then there’s Kento. You’d think he never sleeps, but you’ve seen it. Ritualistic, in a way. For the last two weeks, you’ve watched him go about his day. See, the window of your bedroom leads straight into his study, where he prefers a dimly lit lamp over the bright fluorescents. It’s almost hard to tell when he comes and goes, seeing as whenever you look, there he is. Sat in a swiveling chair and hunched over his desk, writing something in a notepad and skimming through— what looks to be— more documents on his computer.

You can only tell he’s going to bed once there’s a sigh, a pinch to the bridge of his nose before smoothing out his eyebrows, then the discarding of silver-frame, rectangular reading glasses. The lamp stays on, as if he knows he’ll be back in less than seven sleeping hours— which you think, for him, translates to roughly thirty minutes.

And, though he can’t see you, you always make an extra effort to wave up at his study, just before starting up your tractor.

You never expected him to wave back. You never expect his eyes to trail from your face to your supplies. And you, most certainly, never expect him to join you. Two thermal mugs in hand as he makes it over the small hill from his home to your own, past the thorn bushes and vacant tangerine trees. Hot chocolate— piping and rich, it coats your tongue in its sweetness and splashes against your lips with comforting warmth.

“Mm!” You hum, blowing through the small gap between the thermos and its sealed lid. You’d assumed your scarf, wrapped snug around your neck, would do the trick— keep you warm enough — but this seems to actually hit the spot. Sticky accents from remnants of unmelted marshmallows, its fluff clings to the corner of your lips. And Kento, nursing his own mug— though it contains tea— looks up to watch you grin, shards of tiny sugar crystals clinging to your pouty bottom lip.

“Hold still,” all but purring, his thumb swipes at your lip, wipes away the stickiness until they’ve parted— breathless. His eyebrows furrow with concentration, as if it’s a practiced habit, absentmindedly licking his thumb clean with one smooth, quick dart of his tongue.

“Sweet.”

Your breath circulates into the air, a swirl of white that dispels almost immediately. Your thoughts are cut short, breath stuck in your throat, eyes wide and glazed over with astonishment. “It’s— huh?”

“Sweet,” he chimes, lips curling around each letter. He’s beside himself, nearly forgetting who he is until the clear of his throat and a resigned grumble. “I can’t fathom how you manage to drink. . . radioactive waste from a cup.”

His humor is dry— something you have to think over for a moment before smiling against the lid of your cup. Kento notes how you smile— with your whole body— eyes closed tight and teeth on display, shoulders bunched and your stride much more bouncy. He tries not to smile when you giggle, hiding the lower half of your face behind the piping mug as your shoulders brush against his own. With each step the closer you get— to both the blond and your truck.

“It’s good,” Your voice lifts at the end of the statement, feigning offense as you lick your lips. Soft tongue against soft lips, Nanami partly wonders if you naturally taste as sweet as your preference for drinks. “M’not bein’ mean about yours!”

“I'm not being mean,” He corrects, a silent apology laced in his tone— just in case — and your knowing gaze lifts from his cup to his eyes, blazing bright and beautiful. He basks in your attention for a moment, like the gentle rays of a sun-swept island. Had this really been a vacation— no carry-on cases— he would’ve considered booking a flight to Malaysia.

First, he’s buckling you into your seat— it seems you’d forgotten, then he’s reminding you to put on your gloves, despite having bare hands of his own.

“You do this for a living,” is his justification, though you deemed it more a reason for him to wear the protective gear. “You wear them.”

And, now, he’s listening intently as you explain the mild inconvenience that is the technicalities that come with farming. He learns of your affinity to animals. Your slight, biased preference for gardening. The way your nose wrinkles when you think too hard, and the way you often forget what you were saying as you say it.

Though the scenery outside the passenger seat window is beautiful— valleys of faded green and brown, a light fog dusting the air. The symphony of crickets and cicadas, and of course, the sunset making its round up the horizon, teetering along the age of the Earth as it paints each and every blade of grass in its light.

He helps you out of the car as if you haven’t done it yourself a million times, careful not to spill your drink in his other hand. He’s awfully tender, too, his thumb absentmindedly circling the glove-clad skin of your knuckles as your hand squeezes his own. The door slams shut, and he doesn’t miss your expression twist as you whisper a small ‘oops, sorry!’ to your precious truck before unloading supplies.

Kento can’t name a thing— he’s out of his depths, here, but he helps anyway. He carries it down the never-ending row of cabbage and radish, watches his step despite nearly dismantling at least three dozen budding vegetables simultaneously. And you don’t yell at him once, instead offering words of sweet encouragement until you’ve found the place to start, dropping your assortment of tools and buckets.

“M’kay, ‘Nami,” He watches you drop to a crouch, warmth blooming in the apples of his cheeks. It’s not just the suggestive position, nor the way your pretty eyes look up at him from there— but it’s how sweet you say his name. . going as far as to give him a nickname, too.

Still, it manifests through the twitch of his eye, which you don’t catch onto, as he kneels alongside you.

“‘Nami—”

“No. It’s pronounced Nanami.” He interjects, his grip tight along the base of unsavory, frostbitten weeds— at least, that’s what he sees you doing anyway. Almost too tight, heavy and thick hands flexing, you can see the bend of his knuckles as his fingers dig into the roots.

“Na,”And, the smell of dirt, it’s so strong, the earthy undertones invade your nostrils and have no intent on stopping. . . “—na,” Raw, natural. His palms press in at the sides, thumbs stroking at the soil as he feels around for growing stems. For a moment it’s silent, save for the crackling radio beside you. Your pretty lips part, and sweetly, you’ve sounded out his name. “—mi.”

A puff of air leaves his lips, a scoff of a chuckle, and he’s giving a slight nod, quietly whispering the syllables of your name in acknowledgment. “Mhm?”

He doesn’t miss the way your lips split into a wide grin, weeds absentmindedly disregarded for a moment as you giggle, “I already knew that— I just said it!”

“Mm,” He agrees, though he’s not entirely sure you did. Then his heavy fingers tap your wrist— gentle, barely even a tap, but it gets you back on track— picking up the dead weeds. Kento watches, your hands gingerly plucking them free from the root, mastered and effortless.

Your fingertips dig into the soil, palms sticky and damp, littered with defrosting grass along each ridge and defining line. There’s so much care in your fingertips, and with every successful pull your eyes ignite. Like a cute, overgrown puppy. “Good. You’re a smart boy.”

“Y’think m’smart?” And, though your shoulders bunch up— a bit more bashful, you’re shaking your head. “I mean— I knew that already, too,” and it washes away as fast as it arrives, replaced with genuine exuberance. “I tell m’self everyday!”

The blond catches it anyway, gaze unwavering, even as your own struggles to keep contact. Nanami’s eyes are remarkably intimidating despite belonging to someone who’s positioned so utterly relaxed. . Crouching just as you are, but with smooth shoulders and lax biceps. Still, they’re visible through the silk fabric of his button-up, but he seems used to it. Tufts of blonde hair, slightly unruly and disheveled— swept back with gel, yet still set off in a flurry of gold by the back of his head, as if he’d rolled around in bed and decided to lounge about instead of retouching it.

Cozy.

“I do,” The sun dawns down through thick, gray clouds, framing his bronze locks— and with his lips slightly parted and his skin picking up a peachy glow, he looks almost seraphic. “What were you saying?”

“Um,” You pause to rethink through the last hour, warmth blowing past your cheeks as a particularly nippy gust of wind rushes by. “. . We sell ‘em, the weeds! That won’t be for a few days, sometimes we keep ‘em for cookin’, but . . . these aren’t any good.”

“Too many?” He asks, as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s learned in his vacation here, by far, despite having learned that just a few days ago.

“Too many!” Pretty lips part into a wide grin, and perhaps that’s the conclusion to Kento’s sightseeing.

౨ৎ

Kento tries not to lie— not unless he absolutely needs to.

With your black on black attire— a large, knitted sweater, a black bomber atop it, dark jeans to match, a hand-woven gray scarf wrapped around your neck, and white sneakers that carry a cream-colored accent in its threading— it’s hard to keep his mouth shut.

“Where are we going?” Is his first question— but there’s so much more he means to ask. Since when do you dress so nicely? Do your parents know you spent extra farm money on those shoes? Is it bad to feel the urge to hold you closer, just so no one gets any ideas?

Nonetheless, checking the silver-plated Rolex along his wrist with the slight tussle of his lapel-collared trench coat, just before popping open the passenger’s seat of your truck, he ignores the growing thought.

“You’re always locked up in your house,” Twisting your keychain covered keys into the ignition, the truck starts up with a gradual rumble. You’ve figured something was wrong with the oil for quite some time now, but it’s never been enough to start any problems. “Don’t y’wanna have fun?”

That doesn’t entirely answer his question, nor does it ease his mind— a vacation this is, yes. But it’s also paid, and he’s technically on the clock whilst being here. Still, he nods just once, the clench of his jaw apparent in the faint valleys of muscle just below his ear. Though, he supposes he could say the same about you. Every day you wake up, harvest, water crops, feed your animals, clean out troths and shovel up feces. He’s not even entirely sure if that’s your idea of fun— but he hopes not.

Kento doesn’t expect you to be such a great driver. Smooth turns and a gentle ride— even with cobblestone streets and gravel trails. You get carried away when you talk, too, hands moving about and your gaze trailing to his eyes every few seconds. He has to remind you— “Don’t take your hands off the wheel,” “Don’t look at me, look at the road,” — but Kento would be lying if he said it weren’t endearing.

It’s almost like you can barely function without basking in his presence.

“If it were warmer,” You swallow, finally stopping to catch your breath after the last fifteen minutes of rambling. The car slows down to a halt, an overhead traffic-light flashing a bright, crisp shade of red. “We could’ve went apple-pickin’ . . . or even oranges!”

You take the time to fully face him, eyes trailing up his dark trousers and gray turtleneck— it bunches at his chest, and you’re sure without his trench coat it’d be just as strained around his biceps.

“What do you do when it’s cold?” He muses, ducking his head to watch the passing of trees and inner city shops.

“Hm?” You hum, but before he can repeat the question you beat him to it. “Uh, we have this lake— it’s the first to freeze over when it’s cold. . ” So quaint, his eyes gloss over pedestrians as they live amongst themselves. Walking their dogs, sharing a drink at an outdoor bar, couples huddled close together for warmth. The sidewalks are clean and clear, there’s a polite, happy bounce to everyone’s step. Fairy lights blink in every other window, casting a sweet, bright hue along the streets below it. Kento understands it all, despite it being much more. . comfortable. . than Sendai. “And, when it’s completely frozen, we skate on it!”

It feels like home. A gentler, cozier version of it.

“I’m sorry—” The blond clears his throat as he turns to actually look at you, having fully processed your words. “Skating?”

“Are y’scared?” Nanami tries to ignore the burning of his throat when you laugh at his silence— a pretty, featherlight thing of a giggle that only progressively makes it harder for him to catch his breath.

“No,” He grumbles. He’s actually done it before— his younger, studying ‘coworkers’ had a knack for dragging him around outside of work hours— and he wasn’t free from it, even in winter. Yuji, Megumi, and Nobora, perhaps the three only people who could have him willingly risking a fractured disc.

“Don’t be scared, ‘Nami!” The car turns into a short trail, decalled in various signs and brightly colored symbols. “I can help you, m‘kay?”

Four people.

He nods anyway, save you the meltdown, and lets you drag him out the car once you’ve found a good place to park. He’d think it was illegal had there not been a sign for it, let alone communal skates in varying sizes. They’re in good condition, too. A small wooden bench— decorated with moss along its sides, he brushed his fingertips against it by accident— keeps him steady, but when he looks over to you, you’re already walking around with untied skates.

“Come here,” He beckons, voice soft and fond as he quirks a finger in your direction. He watches you fumble, nearly tripping over your own legs as opposed to your laces, but you make it over to him anyway, thigh against thigh. You brace yourself when he pulls your legs over his lap, shifts in his seat and tightens them just enough— “It’s not hurting you, is it?”— to fit comfortably.

“Thank you, ‘Nami,” He can hear the sincerity in your voice— as if he’d saved your life. Your breath pans across his face, warm and minty as you shake your head, “Doesn’t hurt. . .”

He offers a gentle pat to your knees once you’re fully set, softly dropping them back down as he leans to tie his own. It’s a quick process— not as tedious as the knotted up, tattered ones back home— a much more nice change of pace.

The ice, though, is considerably worse. He surmises it’s because it’s relatively untouched— if the whole village of Sekichiku had done two laps over it still wouldn’t have been enough to leave a noticeable dent in the ice— so his skates have nowhere to grip. You, though. . .

You’re much more graceful on ice than on land. A slow turn here, a quick twirl there, you could skate laps around him if you so choose. But you don’t, instead holding onto his wrists as he stiffly skates forward. Kento’s nose is nipped with pink, matching the particular shade of his lips as they part in concentration. The shade dispels down his cheeks, and you’ve never seen his face so. . . soft.

“Say, ‘Nami?” You huff, holding his wrists as you move in a slow, clockwise circle, turning you both. “When’re you leavin’?”

The truth bubbles in his throat, tougher to swallow than he’d originally thought it’d be. He clears his throat, avoids the question, and instead of freeing his wrists altogether, he holds your hand. You’re pouting when you slowly swivel to his side, his heart somersaulting almost painfully at the cute, wee frown to your lips. “Hey,” you whine, caught off guard but still pleasantly surprised, squeezing your palms against his own. “What’re you doin’?”

You’ve always been undeniably sweet. Kento thinks back to your basket of goods. The sweet, savory, aromatic flavors of bread, meats, cheeses, chocolates. How you have it to him so sweetly, no questions asked. There’s no ulterior motive to your demeanor, either. It’s peculiar to have someone so. . dependable. Someone to easily lean on, someone so— hospitable.

You’re perfect.

“I've never—“ He pauses, watching smoke dispel form your lips. An intimate position, he’s in— close enough to hear your breaths, holding on tight enough to feel your pulse through your fingertips. “Noone has ever done this for me. Thank you.”

“What, take you skatin’?”

“Support me unconditionally.” He pulls away before you can say anything in response, relishing in the thought of your pulse speeding against his knuckles as he stiffly skates back toward regular land.

The ride home is smooth, but quiet. And once you get there, hunger overrides your hospitality.

You like Kento’s rental— its kitchen is spacious and just big enough to support the mess of pots and pans that come with baking. It’s warm and inviting, the stove works great and the oven even better. Its heat burns a little brighter, but nothing you can’t handle.

Pain au chocolat — chocolatine — and meringue cookies; they’re a pain in Kento’s ass. Not even something he’d try to attempt without you there— he’s happy to watch you whisk away and laugh at his disgruntled faces. A “taste-tester”, you’d called him, scooping one sugary accessory after another onto the pad of your fingertip and asking him to try.

You weren’t lying. You really do know how to bake— flour dusted skin and all. Twisting raw dough into pretty sculptures of bows and braids, scored surfaces of x’s and o’s, light layers of warm butter that seep into soft, risen dough. And when it bakes, oh, how sweet the smell of aromatic bread is to Nanami’s stomach.

Studying the contours of a pretty face— baby fat rounding your cheeks as they pool into a sweet smile, pearly whites displayed brighter than the moonlight leaking through the floral curtains. Your laughter is wholehearted, hands gripping the hem of Nanami’s fleece shirt, body tipping toward his chest as your giggles dispel into the warm, brown-sugar baked air. For a moment he mentally swoons, something of a comforting coo, eyelids heavy and blanketed with the same baking powder littering your handsome face. He relishes the warmth, which leaves just as fast as it arrives, and suddenly you’re reaching into the oven without your cute, fluffy puppy-patterned mittens protecting your hands.

“Wait,” His tone is harsher than intended, solid and thick, and you— the sweet, softheaded boy that you are, don’t entirely deserve the worried look on your face that melts into sharp, hot pain.

“Ouch!” Your elbow smacks into Nanami’s calf as you flinch, fingertips raw and numb— still pulsing from the fresh burn. The man crouches down, knee to ceramic, palm to your warm shoulder, and suddenly your wide eyes are glittering and gleaming. Had the smile from your face not been growing, he’d have been appalled. “‘Nami, did you see that?!”

“Silly boy,” He sucks his teeth, pulling your clasped hands from your chest. Gingerly, he plucks out each finger one by one, runs the pad of his thumb along the burn sites. “You have to be more gentle with yourself.”

And, as if he’d declared to destroy your favorite equipment, your shoulders deflate. Hazel watches as tears well in your eyes in real time— with award winning speed, really— glassy and wet and oh, you’re so cute. It was just a small reminder, nothing too harsh— it could barely be considered scolding. Yet here you are, sniffling and averting your gaze. Eyes glossed over while your fingers instinctively curl over his own for comfort. Then a small, petulant, “M’sorry, ‘Nami.”

“None of that,” Soothing, it's gentle and soft as his thumb travels along the numb pads of your fingertips. And though it was already a faint sensation, you can tell his touches are deliberately featherlight and calculated, cautious. “Nothing to cry about.”

“I’m not crying,” You grumble, though his ears register the sound as a wet sniffle as you rub at your cheek with the back of your free hand. “I don’t do that.”

“Of course not,” The breathy lilt tongue voice gives it all away, a tiny smile dotting the man’s lips. They’re entirely too enticing, a sweet shade of pink that dispels into the milky tan of his skin. Sheen and glazed with what could be spit, your lips part to mirror the same smile. Though yours is larger, his isn’t any less exuberant— luring you in one centimeter at a time until, inevitably, his breath ghosts along the expanse of your jaw— you can almost taste him.

His voice breaks through the thickened silence, “But it’s okay if you do.”

The next two hours should go by just fine.

౨ৎ

“What does ‘default-judgment’ mean?”

Floorboards creak beneath Kento’s feet, dimly lit ambient lighting placed around the office keeps it lit just enough to see ever so clearly— a small lamp angled above an open file, then the remaining trickle of light cascading over photos. Labeled, dated, clipped, and shipped to his front door just a couple weeks ago. Soon to be released, relinquished, deadlined.

His hair drips with cold water, tiny drops dripping down to the floor while others slither down his neck, and pool where his back dips, just slightly. He doesn’t tense when he sees you— his muscles remain just as relaxed as they were in the shower— and his eyes barely widen past the tired, lidded expression that paints his face every night, before he gets his studying done. But you—

You’re the opposite. Your shoulders raise to your ears, eyes wide and unblinking as they stare at the towel wrapped around his thick, slightly hairy forearm— it’s navy blue, with a brown, horizontal stripe across its fabric, and embroidered letters you can’t quite make out. An intelligible sound, then an unexplainable expression, and— there you are, tripping over your own tongue as your hands shoot to cover your eyes. Only unclothed from the waist up, Kento can’t help the amusement blooming in his chest.

“It’s a deduction based on a defendant’s failure to answer. . or appear, in some cases, to a lawsuit or court.” Nanami’s eyes trace the part of your lips behind your palm as your brain processes (though, he doesn’t think that’d be the correct word for it) his words. They purse, quickly, tight lined, until parting again— once more, with less confidence. With each step he takes (long strides that make him appear as if he’s almost floating) he grows closer, strands of freshly washed angel hair sticking to his forehead.

“. S. . ure!” You smile and nod in faux understanding, fingers curling toward the dip of your hairline, eyes peeking through cracked fingers. From there, beneath your palms, an uncomfortable warmth blossoms from your throat up, settling in your cheeks and sprinkling across your nose— sweltering and tingly.

Kento tuts, a soft noise, and you watch as he inhales a deep breath, pine eyes perusing through the space between your fingers for eye contact. “. . . Don’t worry about all that.” And, as if he can feel the high voltages slamming against your heart, his tongue darts out to moisturize his lips, and his eyes fall to your chest. He sits aslant to you, legs spread wide with the occasional sway of his knee— but nothing too sudden. You’re made all too aware of his half-naked proximity, purportedly close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating through the room— to smell the sweet undertones of vanilla, musk, and earl gray tea residing in his skin. In a low rumble he speaks, pulling lotion free from the drawer to your left. “Silver lining is: I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Even as he leans forward, closer and closer, he doesn’t cage you in— even if your chest aches at the loss.

Your heart demands the conversation die after that. Beating so rapidly you assume it’s stopped, silence freezes the air as your hands slowly drop to your lap. Lips pulled with woe, darling eyes low and sodden in an instant. Shoulders dropped just enough to sound a sharp creak in the swiveling chair you’re sat in, your lashes clump with fresh, unshed tears. And, in a lapse moment of murkiness, Kento’s lips twitch into a frown of their own.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, as if afraid your response will confirm it— he’s what’s wrong. His choice of words— wrong. Thin brows furrowed, the dip of his chin has his lips ghosting your cheek.

“. . . Nothin’.” It’s worse. He’d expected tears— maybe even an exchange of fiery words— but instead you’ve shut down, hands balled up in the fabric of your flowy pants, denim bunched up and draped over your thighs. Completely silent, staring at nothing and everything— all in between— all at once.

“Nothing?” He echoes, a silent suggestion for more. The rumble in your ear is almost too much, for a moment you assume you’d conjured it up with your imagination. Too close, too bare, too blunt, too warm— too fleeting.

“Mhm,” When your gaze meets, his heart plummets to his stomach. “Nothin’.” Words rush to his tongue before they can catch up to his brain, and. . you look so . . sad. He’s never seen you so defected— nor had he thought the concept of giving up existed for you. So headstrong, determined to make things work, gears always shifting into overdrive when you can’t make something out. You’ve gone as far as to create your own definition— this isn’t you.

“It’s. . . inevitable,” Kento’s voice softens, dropping to a quiet whisper between just the two of you. “But not for a while,” Then shifts his weight back, pulling away as he speaks in some sick sort of oxymoron, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will.” Grumbling, you’ve always been an open-book.

“Not forever.”

“. . . Ever,” You grunt, choosing to ignore the stern quirk of his thin brow. You’re a bit of a brat— Kento sees that now— behind the pouty lips and soft eyes, behind the large smiles and intimidating prowess. “When are you goin’?”

Nanami treads carefully, fingers wrapped around the closed bottle of lotion. With a snap it clicks open, and a generous amount is pumped into his palms. The smell is neutral and muted, but clean and fresh.

Kento tries not to lie— not unless he absolutely needs to. An unexplainable feeling, adjacent to panic, rises in his stomach as he lies, “Six weeks, at least.”

“Nami…” Ignoring the deadline he’d just given you, you ask, “D’you like your job?”

You watch his posture relax, as if the previous conversation was just as emotionally taxing as it was for you, for him. He sighs, pauses to think for a mere second, then shrugs. “I like its structure.”

“Oh.”

“I like helping people, too.” He adds, much more sincere. Your eyes trail the lotion as it’s rubbed into his biceps, his shoulders, his forearms. His fingers flex and muscles ripple, skin bouncing beneath his fingertips, and light traces of hair at his knuckles raising.

“Oh.” You breathe, eyes locked on his veiny hands. You suppose, in a way, your jobs are similar. You, too, help people out— you provide fresh food and crops, you herd cattle and brush the hair of healthy horses. A very hands-on job— it’s rewarding. “Me too. I— I like helping too. And. . .”

His fingers twitch, almost as if they can feel your gaze, but Kento makes no effort to move them.

Six weeks. Time is fleeting.

“I—” With trembling hands you lean forward, clasping Kento’s smooth knuckles against your palm. He’s just as warm as he looks, skin soft and sheen. His fingers flicker in your hold, straining as they tense— silently, asking, ‘what?’ as an increasingly overwhelming urge to keep Kento close washes over you.

It’s moments like these you’d wish you were better with words. To weave them together into something pretty, like a basket made for carrying fresh harvest. To pull apart and braid together an amalgamation of just the right phrases— ones that sound pretty and roll off the tongue. Some that sound soulful and genuine, yet effortless and forthwith at the same time.

Moments like these, where your breath is stuck in your throat and with every rise and fall of his chest you think you’ve lost some more— he’s taken it all from you— you wish you knew just what to say, to do, to bring that air back.

To have him melt at your words the way you do at his actions, to have him feel the same exact thing when your heart clenches in your chest like a rag that’s been wrung out to dry. Without trying, without straining. You wish you were smarter— better at this, as you lean so far from the chair it begins to squeak in protest.

You’re sure there’s better people in Tokyo. With better educational backgrounds, with cleaner jobs. People who have it all together, who have different skills and assets— who don’t stick to one thing simply because they have a natural born talent for it. People who are prettier, more handsome— perhaps more his type. People who have aligning career goals and paths— more accomplishments.

Sweeter, kinder. With softer hands and an easier understanding of city life.

People who are better with words. Who can weave them together into something pretty, like a closed case with no loose ends or dead leads. Who can pull apart and braid together an amalgamation of just the right phrases— ones that sound pretty and roll off the tongue. Who can make their confessions sound soulful and genuine, effortless and forthwith at the same time. All within the heart of Tokyo.

People who aren’t you.

Nanami stands, shuffling over to fix the documents you’d ruined— of course you did— but his face hasn’t changed from his usual tight-lipped expression. Sometimes it’s hard to read him, and it’s times like these you really wish you could.

“I like you,‘Nami.” You whisper to yourself, quietly pouring your heart out with each spoken letter.

And, with a snap, your world goes crumbling down. Increasingly silent, the world stops as you hit the floor and Kento’s chest stills— the soft, quiet beat of his breaths gone quiet, as if it were a mere memory to begin with. The backing of his swiveling chair falls with you, right to the floor, clattering much louder than the sound of your tense body, and—

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I think you have the wrong idea.” His voice is strained. Uncomfortable.

You’ve never felt more humiliated.

౨ৎ

Despite your humiliating attempt to hold onto it, time flies by. Locked away in your room— your only source of comfort being an occasional knock on the door from your mother and the weight of your blanket as it remains overhead. You’ve counted the seconds— tripped over your thoughts after reaching 1,633– started over again. You’ve listened to the pitter-patter of rain against your windowsill, peeked out from your cocoon to bet on a race between the raindrops.

You’ve thought about Kento, of course. So much it plagued you, made your chest uncomfortably tight— until all you could do was let out a humiliated groan all over again. It’s a timeless cycle, and yet, it grows closer to his leaving date.

You haven’t spared a glance toward the actual outside, even when your window overlooks his own study. You’re sure everything’s out of sorts now— weeds overtaking the farm, plants dried out or overwatered, any blooming vegetation snipped at the bud before it could bloom. Tough luck, they’ll get over it.

And, God, has your family tried. Through gentle words and offers of food, through soft praises that fell on deaf ears. Through frustration, too, anger laced in the sweetest yell of ‘where’d my smart boy go?’

Your eyelids feel heavy and thick. No longer swollen with tears or bloodshot with dejection— just heavy, simply tired. Sleep is all you’ve done these days, yet it feels like your body can’t get enough. Fifteen hours a day leave you straining for more, three hours a day leave you exhausted. You can barely remember when you last left your bed— for the bathroom, never for a drink— and even when your frown deepens as you think about it, you can’t bring yourself to fix it.

You can’t bring yourself to fix anything as of late, if it can even be fixed.

You were stupid for thinking he’d feel the same, anyway. A man like ‘Nami— a man like Nanami— so smart and so distinguished. So. . opposite of you, to think you’d fall anywhere near the same line as him. . is laughable, really. Even more so when you consider his upbringing. He doesn’t mention it much, and you try not to pry, but you consider his lifestyle quite traditional and cookie-cutter. You hadn’t even asked if he liked men.

“I think you have the wrong idea.”

His rejection physically pains you, a quiet sniffle and suppressed whine straining your vocal cords. Your nails dig into the fleshy, cushiony part of your palm. You can hear the pitch of his voice — rumbling and deep, you hear the shakiness of his breath—so deeply uncomfortable, cold with disgust. “I think you have the wrong idea.”

A knock to your door startles you awake, eyes wide open as your cocooned body flops around in bed. Still, you barely make an effort to respond, dry lips parting to form a garbled groan.

“Your. . . friend was at the door,” It’s your mother’s voice, but softer and pleading. For a moment your heart twists, eyebrows pinched as you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth— you can’t remember the last time you’d seen her face without slamming a door in it. “Looked tired, so I gave him some coffee. . .”

A bitter, disconcerting ‘so?’ nearly leaves your mouth— something so unlike your usual self, it makes you want to borrow deeper into your sheets and never leave. Shame. She doesn’t expect you to crack the door open. You shake your head, even if she can’t see you, only breaking your stubborn resolve when knocks once more, and slowly, you scuttle around the mess of your bedroom to unlock the door. Your eyes carry dark circles and heavy bags as your gaze pierces straight through her. Then, a shaky breath and barely audible whisper, “. . . S’it Nanami?”

Her aged smile is soft and thoughtful as she leans into the doorframe— something you haven’t seen in a while, and your eyes prickle with warm tears once more. “Between you ‘n me, you’re in much better shape.”

Cracking a smile nearly takes all your energy from you.

You don’t bother changing from your pajamas— they’ve always been so baggy to support the muscle you’ve grown over years of lifting heavy produce and working with truckloads— and now you’re grateful for it. Something to hide behind if you need it, and your fingers subconsciously curl into the fabric of your long sleeves for comfort. Once you get downstairs the two of you depart, and a gentle rub to your shoulder blades is all your mother offers before finding solitude on her own, just a few rooms away if you need her.

And— she was wrong. Of course, he looks tired. You can see it in his shoulders— they’re all wound up and tense, like they’d been when you first met. Sure, his jaw is tightened and you can hear the grind of his teeth against one another despite keeping your distance— but he still seems put together, albeit lacking his usual combover or corporate style of clothing.

It hurts to know he does well without you, as selfish as it may sound.

“Hi,” You mumble, rubbing at your face with the palm of your hand. Your voice crackles with disuse, rumbling and garbled in your throat. “Nanami. .”

“Hi,” He echoes, your name heavy on his tongue as he stands, leveling out the shared eye contact. Just Nanami. For a moment he’s at a loss for words— and it’s odd, typically he has an answer for everything. You remember asking why he’d buckle your seatbelt before his own, and his answer was always the same. You remember asking why he likes what he does— and they’d all circle back to enjoying the small things in life. His Kento’s lips part, taken aback by the loss of his nickname, but they close into a tight line with registration. Perhaps you’re just. . too much.

“I lied to you,” He begins, and your heart leaps to your throat. He clasps his hands together, resting soundly by his thighs as his head tilts downward, a silent plea. “And, for that . . . I’m sorry,” Kento releases a breath, hands coming undone to swipe away stray, gold strands of hair. “Don’t feel obliged to accept, I just— I like y— I want to show you something.”

It’s odd. The look on your face makes him want to scoop you up, to cradle you in his arms and hold you tight. And yet, he can see the cogs turning in your brain, the gradual loss of your frown and faux steel in your eyes as you shrug— he can’t even distinguish if you’re being reluctant or stubborn. Nonetheless, Kento smoothens the fabric of his coat, and makes a small, polite gesture to the door.

“Okay.” Your fist rubs sleep from your eyes, steps heavy and dragging along the floor as you slide your feet into brown bunny slippers— the same ones he’d worn when you officially met.

Stepping into the cold, crisp winter air, you both ignore the tremor to your bottom lip, “What were you gonna. . ?”

Not at all hard to spot, set alight by the glow or orange lanterns, it’s your farm. Oh, it’s much prettier than you could’ve ever imagined it. So clean, with pristine rows and neat placements of fresh soils. You can actually walk through it, as opposed to tip-toeing around like you used to. The air is crisp and fresh, just like you’d remembered it— but it feels better than before. And, dotting the horizon, fireflies dance into the night sky and blend into the twinkling stars. You don’t remember the last time you’d seen them— vision occupied by tall grass or obstructed by rusty tools. You could almost cry. Your breath catches in your throat, a gentle breeze brushing along your forehead and digging into the fabric of your clothes— yet you feel light and warm.

He did all this for you?

“Are you cold?” You blink hard, vision blurred with tears as Kento’s hand grasps your shoulder. “You’re shivering.” He’s quick to shrug off his coat, barely even flinching when the fabric dips into fresh mud, and loops it around your form with steady hands.

“M’okay. .” He frowns, barely visible, and the slight protests of being strong enough to tough it out die on your tongue. But it’s true, you don’t feel cold— not internally, at least. You feel light yet heavy, warm and airy. Heat pokes at your skin, ignites in the apples of your cheeks and trails down your throat. “. . . Thank you, ‘Nami. . . For everythin’.”

‘Why're you saying it like that?’ He wants to ask. As if it’s some sort of sick, roundabout way of saying goodbye. His movement stutters, lips curled into a small ‘o’ before reverting back to its usual, thin line; and he speaks, “I don’t just like you.”

Your fist tightens in his coat, fabric twisting to accommodate your grip.

“I. . admire you. Your strength, your weakness. Your baking. . Your smile, too,” He sighs, quiet and cautious. “Your laugh. I regret not telling you before. At first, I thought you were impulsive, and somehow abrasive, bu—”

You’ve never been one to hide from your feelings— you laugh when you’re happy, scowl when you’re angry, mope when you’re sad. So it’s no surprise to feel you smile; wide and unapologetic. It’s no surprise to feel the tremble of your fingers as they release his coat and land on his biceps. To feel the slow, shaking breath of air he releases at your silence— hearing his own slight sniffle at the nippy, cold breeze. You’re nervous, lips twitching as his chin dips, bashful as his lips intertwine with your own.

A kiss.

"’Nami," Laughing into his mouth, it meets the sound of your lips continuously meeting in breathless, heavy harmony. His lips are plush, soft and sweet, hungry and hasty, everything and nothing and all things in between. “I like you. I like you, I like you, I like you.”

You feel it now— the warmth enveloping his chest, the hard hammering of his heart against his ribcage. "Shit," He whispers, incredulous, and before slowly pulling away, cradles your handsome face between his calloused “I like you too.”

౨ৎ

Kento owns silk pillows. You can tell they’re imported from home— as they disturb the uniform colors of the crisp, cream comforter set blanketing his bed. It’s the first thing you notice, head sinking into the fabric as your eyes flutter closed, thoughts and breaths stolen with each wet, heavy kiss being pressed against your lips. His breath is hot and heavy, small groans and grunts leaving his parted lips, and— he tastes of chocolate.

“Kenny—” You gasp, but the sound of his name on your lips only eggs him on. Hot heat blooms in your stomach, tingling down to your tummy, so deep, something you’ve never really felt before. It tingles, almost, right through your thighs and straight to your cock, plumping up with each passing second. And his hands, god, are so quick and skilled— shedding you of your clothing as if he’s done it a million times before.

“Kenny,” You repeat, much whinier than before, tiny sounds leaving your lips as you squirm in his hold. “Mm, wait,” and his response is barely committal, a low hum that melts into a breathy sigh as your bare skin is exposed and your leaking cock springs free against your tummy. He coos, peeling the sticky fabric of your underwear free. Cute.

“Use your words,” Kento mumbles against your skin, running his hands along the silky smooth skin of the back of your thighs. “I know you can, you’re a smart boy.” You squirm with every touch, plush skin bouncy as you press your thighs together, cock sliding by your navel. And, even when you hide, he can see the precum smearing against your stomach, the tightening of your balls, and, now, your exposed hole winking back at him.

Fuck.

“Mm, don’t look,” You’ve barely convinced yourself, a choked out moan leaving your lips as his big, warm hand wraps around your cock and pumps. “That’s— oh, embarrassin’!” Slow, at first, trailing up the sensitive shaft and rubbing circles into the overly-sensitive head. Until his hand is slick with precum and his own spit, until your thighs are convulsing and you’re close to covering yourself in your own cum. Until you’re sobbing, pulling at his wrist with weak, clammy hands.

“I know, sugar. I know,” And the stifled cry you've been hearing belongs to you. “Feels good, hm?” His free hand grazes down your waist, thumbing at the dip between your hip and your thigh, then cupping the soft, plush skin of your pecs. “Feels better than your own hand, doesn’t it?” Kneading until your nipples harden against his palm, soft skin swelling around his fingers. And, oh, how pretty you are when you cry, overstimulated tears rolling down your cheeks and incoherent babbles leaving your swollen lips.

“Uh— huh, yeah,” Is barely breathed out, and Kento watches pre leak over his knuckles. Creamy and thick, sticky and sweet as your hips rock back and forth, to and fro. You just can’t help yourself, greedy boy, fucking into his fist like it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt and— oh.

It is.

“Messy boy,” He huffs, pressing his forehead against your own— damp and sticky. Your hand, preoccupied with fisting his sheets, is grabbed, and all you can feel is slick, hot heat. “Fuck your fist for me.”

“Wh- Huh?” It takes a moment for your brain to catch up to your hands, wrapped tightly around your cock as your hips buck— whines high and loud in your throat, keening like a puppy. It’s not at all paced, not like Kento, just pure desperation and need as your toes curl and your eyes roll back into your skull. Warmth rises in your face as your legs instinctively part, tingles spreading through your body and needy moans filling the air. Wet and sloppy, your hand is slick and soaked.

He travels lower, lips trailing down your throat, your collarbones— pausing at your chest. He watches the rise and fall, the slight bounce of your pecs as you pant like a dog. Pretty buds hard and sensitive, a gentle suckle is enough to make you arch from the sheets and keen.

“Good boy, that’s it,” You have the urge to get on your knees, to present all your holes to him, to spread yourself open with your fingers- fucking them in and out, in and out, just for Kento. It’s all too much, thinking of what’s next, what’s happening now, what’ll happen later.

Nanami lifts his shirt over his chest, the fabric bunching under your armpits as he keeps it pinned between his teeth, and you have no other choice but to flutter your lashes, watching as his pants are loosened and his cock springs free. Big. Thick and long— and, it seems his tan has traveled to his cock, too. Blushing at the tip, the sweet color of mocha, it disappears the further you look down. Curved, too, slightly past his belly-button and heavy against his navel. It's humiliating, the way your mouth waters almost immediately.

It’d feel so good weighing down on your tongue, fucking your throat fast and rough, making you gag and sputter— choking on your own tears and groans.

“Wanna. . I want. . .” You squirm where you lay, whining high in your throat as you find nowhere to hide— nothing to put your face against, nowhere to bury the drunk, hazy expression on your face.

“Want what?” He murmurs, pretty eyes trailing along the curves of your face before he places a sweet, soft kiss along the edge of your jaw. You take the grip on your waist as a slight indication— Kento’s patience is slowly waning.

“V’never. .” Your lips part into a gasp, eyes fluttering closed as his large hands travel along the expanse of your chest. “I wanna. . . feel you in my throat.”

The smart man he is, Nanami, never misses a beat. Pink lips splitting into a small smile, his thumb rubs circles against your skin. Still, you can feel the throb and twitch of his cock against your thigh, hard and almost leaking. “That’s ambitious, sugar.”

You don’t register scrambling up by your elbows, nor the amount of time it takes for your fingers to fail at wrapping around his cock. Your thoughts are muffled and hazy until a quiet chuckle sounds above you— rumbly and deep, and— ah, Kento’s hand is guiding your head back as he pulls your hands free. You’re panting for it now, mouth dropped open as the slurp and slick noise of his cock tapping against your tongue drops straight to your stomach. You could cum from this alone, without even a single glance toward the ache between your thighs.

"M'gonna be so good, promise, know I can do it! Want it, Sir," A clear habit of rambling when you’re nervous, a soothing coo leaves Kento’s throat. His tip smears along your pillowy lips, sticky and salty as pre paints your chin.

“Shit,” He groans under his breath, fisting his cock to ease the ache in his balls. “Slow. I don’t want to hurt you. Gentle, remember?”

You don’t. You can barely think, let alone recall something from another day. But you nod anyway, eyes glued to his cock as it bobs to and fro— pretty and weeping. You bet it’ll feel so heavy, weighing down on your tongue and nearly crushing your throat as you gag around it. He’ll taste good, too, salty and sweet as he buries his cock down your throat. With your nose pressed into the blond of his pubes, and his balls slick against your chin as they tighten and clench.

Yeah, you want him to cum on your face.

With a whiny nod you take his tip into your mouth, pink tongue over your teeth. In your head, it’s much easier— you can sink down to the base no problem— but in practice. . . You sputter and gurgle, leaning into the gentle touch caressing your cheek as your tongue traces the pulsing, thick vein cascading down his shaft. Through your pathetic whimpers and whines he mumbles— but it falls on deaf ears.

You stick out your tongue, cute and pink, latches onto your bottom lip, slicking his slit as he blinks down at you, pupils blown and wide as he praises you, voice smooth and buttery.

Through your own jittery, inexperienced suckling, his tip is smeared along your lips, slowly tracing your cupid's bow and bottom lip until a thin layer of pre has them glazed over and sticky. Your lips part, carrying a thin trail of creamy pre between them, as his dick slides in and out your hot, wet mouth. Spreading heavy along your tongue, swallowing around the head as his thighs tense, muscles flexing and rippling as they strain to keep still.

“‘Nami’s dick is heavy, sweetheart,” He’s gasping before you can fully take in the stretch of his cock, hips twisting as his eyes flutter closed. It’s been a while, you can tell, with the way his balls are clenched tight, his hand morphed into a fist— careful not to grip your hair. Your spit bubbles and pools around his cock, slick and wet, sliding between the seams of your lips and dripping down your throat, down your sternum, down his thighs. “And you’re taking it so well.”

Running your tongue along his big, veiny cock, his head falls forward— adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a pleased moan. His cock fills your empty mouth, stuffing it full like a pre-lubed fleshlight, his balls slapping against your chin in sticky, wet plaps. Collecting drool, it froths between your lips and his cock, bubbly and white until your noises are sloppy and loud. “That’s it, good boy, take this load down your pretty little throat. . .”

Gasping on his cock, Kento’s hand holds you close, until you’re buried against his pubes, until your throat is squeezing and contracting and wrapped plush around the thick shaft of his dick. You can feel it, each and every twitch and throb, each hit, sticky rope that paints your mouth as he cums down your throat, ropes shooting down your tongue and sticking to the roof of your mouth. You’ve done so good, such a good boy, marked for Sir, offering a few hollow sucks to his spasming cock before he pulls you off.

You’d rather he paint your face, but you trust him, swallowing the bitter, salty cream as he whispers gentle praises.

“You’re perfect,” Kento mumbles through heavy gasps, rubbing away the fat tears that roll down your cheeks. Such a sweet, pliant boy, leaning into his touch as he gently pushes you back down, off your knees.

Now he’s got you folded, knees bent back in such a slutty, shameless display. The blond squeezes at his cock, his large hand sliding into a fist that clamps down around his beading, shiny slit, then slowly back down to the thick, veiny shaft. Yeah, that’s good, how it slips and slides with rhythmatic pumps. You’d like to imagine that’s how it’ll be when his cock is inside, stretching past your rim and splitting you open, sliding against your velvety walls until he fills you up with his hot, sticky cum.

“Spit,” he says, gentle at first, but hardening as your poor, pitiful attempt at spitting down your own cock turns into gurgles of drool and incoherent moans. He grips your jaw, angling it just right— till you’re resting back on your elbows and have enough space to land a warm, wet glob right down the slit. “Good boy. Look at me, pretty. Like this.”

You watch as he spits down onto his own cock, runny and wet, which stands as a reminder of its own. His fist is so big, but it’s not nearly enough to swallow his cock down. You watch it pop free from his tight grip, loud squelches with each and every movement. Every time he throbs, pulses, shifts— you hear it all.

“That’s it, atta boy, my good little cocksleeve,” You— it must be you, there’s no one else he’s speaking to. Still, with your hand squeezing your throbbing shaft there’s not much you can say, airy little moans and sweet, high gasps leaving your pouty lips as you buck— up, up, up. A thin trail of drool slips down your chin, warm and wet and— oh, that’s nice— trailing down your cock. “That’s it, stick your tongue out.”

You really do play the part, tongue on display as you fuck your fist silly, bumping slits with the blond. Soft and sticky, loud and wet squelching until his own large, warm palm envelops both your cocks, bumping and grinding and sliding so messy. You nearly burst into hysterics when the warmth is gone, and Nanami’s gaze tears away from the pre oozing between your shafts. “Ask Sir for more, angel.”

“Mm, waitwaitwait, don’t— don’t stop,” You keen, stumbling over your tongue. Your brows pinch, eyes glazed over with unshed tears. “Kenny— Sir, please.”

“Good boy,” All but purring, his hands roam along the plush, round mounds of your ass. “Yeah,” His dick slips between the slick skin of your perineum, dragging along the sensitive skin— the head of his cock catching on your rim when his thrusts turn too eager. “You’re a good boy, asking like that.”

“You like grinding on Sir's cock don’t you? Getting me all wet. . .” Just as warm and wet as he’d thought, cooped up in his office and fucking into his fist, lube gushes and trickles out with every deliberate, shallow rut forward. Your balls bounce and twitch, slick and shiny with a mixture of pre. Your moans, so pretty, high and nasally— incoherent and blabbering. The slurp of his cock goes straight to your balls, tightening as you whine like a bitch for it. And his grip, once gentle and steady, leads down to your ass, keeping it spread as he slides the big head of his cock along your pretty little rim, again, and again, and again. It’s more menuevering than bouncing, through your fucked out haze you try to think; you want him to ruin you.

A knot tightens in your tummy, tingling in your balls as your thighs tighten and your legs tremble— fuck, you’re cumming, hard and all at once, it catches you off guard and a choked squeal is knocked from your throat, rope after rope spraying along your own chest.

“I—” You sob, cock convulsing against your tummy as Kento groans. “I didn’t mean to— didn’t know, m’sor—”

He hushes you, a low growl in his throat as his eyes roam up your tummy, past your hard nipples and land on the splatter of cum collecting between the plush hills of your pecs. “S’okay, it just felt too good, mhm? I bet your pussy feels so good, baby— perfect, pretty little pussy swallowing up my cock.”

You don’t expect him to say that— that’s the last thing you expect, eyes rolling back in your skull as you moan, wholehearted and slutty. With the wet squeeze of lube along your bottom half, slicker and sloppier than ever before, your hole winks back at him. Your perfect, pretty little pussy. “That okay, sweetheart? Can Sir pound this hole till it aches for him?”

Your response is barely coherent, garbled sounds and babbling that roughly translates to ‘please’ as thick fingers prod at your tight, puckered hole. Your loud moans are hushed as Kento leans down, close to your ear. His fingers slide against your entrance, sticky lube sliding along with them and connecting to your puffy rim. They feel so big, so long and thick when he taps them against your hole, barely breaching the tiny gape of your rim. “Gonna get you ready for Sir’s dick, gonna finger that cunt nice and slow, get that sweet boy-hole stretched out.”

“Kenny,” You hiccup, uncontrollable tears streaming down your face as you reach forward to press his fingers closer, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as your entrance is breached. You don’t miss the groan you earn in return, deep and shaky as the man takes the opportunity to slip his fingers right in, past the burning stretch of your fluttering ‘cunt’ that sucks the digits deeper and deeper into your gummy walls. “Can take it, pound it, Sir.”

“Look at me, watch me, sugar. Watch Sir fuck this little hole full.” You squeeze your eyes shut for as long as the reluctant, bratty little part of your brain lets you before staring down into hazel. Until his fingers have you seeing stars and rocking back into them like a cock hungry slut, you’ve never felt more full until his cock kisses your insides, leaving you sloppy and open and full.

Your voice isn’t nearly as loud as the wet squelch and slap of skin against skin, his cock sliding in and out your puffy hole as lube gushes out around his dick in white ringlets. Like you’ve creamed on his cock, he can see it slip back inside with each thrust. Your knees over his shoulders, Kento hauls your body up, and with a tiny, wee and pathetic ‘ah!’ you follow suit, your cute little hole clenching and fluttering around his thick, leaking cock.

“Give me a little more, just a little more of this pussy,” You can’t contain the squeals and squeaks that leave your mouth when the blond pistons his hips, a bruising grip on your waist that only gets harder as he grinds his cock down into you. He’s filling you up so good, his balls slapping against your ass with each rushed, rough thrust that has your mind scrambled just as much as your guts. You can’t take it, hands scrambling to grab at something, anything that’ll keep you from screaming.

Pounding into you, your head falls back as you take it, nice and slow, stretching you out— fast and rough, steady and patient— Kento groans above you, bullying his cock inside, grinding while your hips squirm. Mouth open with an unending stream of moans, he breaks you in, turns you into his good boy— his perfect fleshlight. Wet little hole clenching and spasming, his weight pins you down as your greedy hole milks him for all he’s worth.

“Cummin’, Nami, s’too much— M’can’t—” Whining and crying, his touches go right to your head as much as they do your puffy hole."Kenny," you whine, long and pitiful, a pout of a noise that hits him right where you want it to, just as his cock does inside of you. You whine again when your rocking turns into frantic overstimulated grinding, reveling in the stretch of his cock and the rub of your prostate. He groans, thick and gravelly, hands coming up to squeeze at your chest.

“I’ve got you, c’mere, hold Sir’s hand,” He chokes out, feeling it too. The tightening of his balls, the way his dick aches and pulses inside you, the way his cum is starting to kiss your insides and spurt straight onto that small bundle of nerves— fuck, it’s so deep. His thrusts are hard and deep, thick rope after thick rope frothing around his shaft as he fucks it deeper inside. “So good for me,” You never want it to stop, not the pump of his cock, not the drag of his tip against your entrance, not the filthy sounds, not the cum filling up your hole till you can’t move. Your grip on his knuckles is tight, nails digging into the skin of his hands. “That’s it, such a pretty boy, cumming on my cock.”

A searing knot of pressure grows in your stomach, filling as you bear down on his cock and sob on your whimpers. For a minute you think you’re going to pass out, everything going dark as you spurt all over yourself, globs of cum spraying hard onto your chin and splashing back on the blond. He makes you ride it out, offering hard, shallow thrusts to satiate the erratic spasming of your hole, and places a few sweet, tender kisses to your sweaty jaw.

౨ৎ

You wake with a small moan, limbs racked in small aches as your body melts into silk sheets. It smells like him: warm, cozy, and comforting, like a hug. Grateful for the dim, ambient lighting of his bedroom, your eyelids flutter open slowly, and there’s not much to adjust to. You’re clean— its the first thing you notice, a faint scent of soap lingering on your skin as your aching body scrambles for Kento’s warmth.

“I’m here,” He says behind you, hairs on your neck standing straight as you blink at him. Carrying a glass of ice water and a plate of meringue cookies— whisked perfectly. Cute, cloud-like spirals that sit on a porcelain plate— the same ones he watched you make, a smile pulls at your cheeks. “Hungry?” The muscles of your biceps flex as you push yourself up, body subconsciously leaning toward the blond until he’s sat next to you, his touches gentle and fleeting.

He feeds you a cookie, watches your teeth sink into the sweet, then wipes away the remnants of sugar from your lips. So tender, your heart flutters when he takes a bite after you— an indirect kiss.

He swallows, throat bobbing, lashes batting against his high cheekbones, before parting his lips, “I was thinking of extending my stay.”

The room feels ten times brighter, ten times louder, and yet, your heartbeat overpowers it all.

“I like you,” The words tumble from your mouth, almost as if he hadn’t just spent the last hour taking you apart and building you back up. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. “I more-than-like you, Kenny.”

And, without missing a beat, Kento answers truthfully this time.

“I love you too.”

[yanderestarangel]

HEADCANONS JKK | DILF!NANAMI KENTO

A/N: It was very strange writing this to the sound of "snowy", sometimes I question my musical choices for inspiration ╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯

TW: afab anatomy, ftm reader, fluff, soft!dom nanami, hard!dom nanami, gentle sex, rough sex, v!sex, fingering, praise, body worship, age gap, vulnerable!kink, degradation, daddykink, eat out, mild bdsm.

♡ SFW :

He is a man so tired of the life of working and being a wizard at the same time that he just needs a release. You are his younger partner, a few years younger than the forty-year-old man. He was afraid at the beginning of the relationship because he didn't think he was as attractive as men his age, but as time went by he saw how much you loved that he was older than you, there was a charm in every dark circle cold expression on his frown that was too sexy in your eyes.

You'll also have to keep him updated on things that happen in your social circle ── he doesn't really mind but seeing you smile and talk so excitedly about a certain topic also makes him happy and much more relaxed from the daily routine. He doesn't understand half of the slang you and Gojo say when you get together, but he doesn't mind at all (just don't call him 'boomer' Satoru already does that a lot and it gets on the blonde's nerves.)

He likes to be greeted by you when he gets home. It may be a simple gesture but it fills your chest with a warm and fulfilling feeling as he kisses you on the top of your head, smelling you while an almost invisible smile appears on his tired face. "Did you behave while I was gone baby?" Nanami spoke with a hoarse and low voice, listening attentively to you about your day while smiling when he saw that at least his daily effort was worth it because it could give you a more tolerable and comfortable life. Even though he was tired, he would help you with dinner, lightly rambling about how tiring his day was and what you could do at the weekend.

If you mention that you saw something you liked in a store, Nanami will immediately write down the address and go buy what you want ── even if he works extra hours to pay all the installments, your smile is more important to him. "All for my boy right?" He would speak in a calming voice to your nerves, while his fingers tilted on your shoulder as a gesture of tender affection coming from the older man.

♡ NSFW :

The first few times you two fuck he will be a gentleman to you ── calling you "my sweet", "pretty little thing", "darling", "prince", "pretty boy"; talking about how your moans are the most beautiful thing he has heard. "Keep moaning boy... I want to hear everything from you." "What a beautiful voice you have, moan my name darling and let me hear more, say my name when you cum ok?" These would be some of the several phrases that Nanami would say while inserting two thick fingers into your swollen and wet pussy from the exaggerated stimulation he would do to your body.

He likes to eat out you, seeing you tremble and suffocate him between your soft thighs makes the blonde's cock practically cum without even entering you. He sucks your clit running his tongue in circles while his calloused hands keep your legs wide open for his warm ministrations ── Kento will whisper praises against your pussy making you shiver with each vibration welcome to your sensitive flesh. The blonde finds it cute the way you rub your hips desperately against his lips, making him place kisses on your abdomen and connect your lips, separating the kiss seconds later and looking directly into your eyes, watery with pleasure.

"Looks like you're in a hurry boy... Come on, come and ride my face, don't worry about your weight I can really handle it." Nanami moaned as he watched you obey his request and sat gently on his face ── your sweet smell and wet juices, the sound of your voice begging him 'not to stop' was like heaven to him. Nanami just wanted to make you ready for his cock.

When you reach your second orgasm of the night ─ crying and turning into a beautiful, stimulated mess for him, Nanami will finally shove his cock in your little pussy, moaning hoarsely and privately in your ear. "You can handle this, can't you little boy? You're going to cum on my dick again." Kento would groan, hands resting on the sides of your head on the mattress as he looked directly at every reaction you gave him ── from your breasts bouncing with each thrust of his hips, to the sight of your open mouth salivating and smearing your sheets, until your wet hole sucking his cock back into your throbbing heat. "Desperate to get fucked but too shy to do anything about it... my pretty little angel can't do anything but blush. Do you love my cock in you so much?" He smiled, as he accelerated his movements, intertwining your hand with his, feeling his balls hit your ass, making a slow, lazy wet noise.

However, if you want him to be rude and take out all the anger and stress on your body, Kento will do it with all the strength he has suppressed for years. Tying you with his tie and gagging your mouth with your own underwear ── you are not allowed to speak or ask for anything, at that moment you are his personal toy.

You saw Nanami's veins stand out from his forehead, neck and arms as he approached the edge of the bed, roughly opening your thighs ── your once gentle and sweet boyfriend gave way to a sadistic and cold dominator. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw your little fucked face just looking at him ── dazed and shaking, your pussy milking the air as he slapped your thigh hard, going to squeeze your breasts as you moaned against the fabric and tasted it of your own humidity. "That's what you get for being such a good boy." His voice was serious, as you watched him take the panties out of your mouth and take his cock out of his pants.

Kento would also have vulnerable!kink, meaning you will be totally naked while he will be clothed yet just taking his member out of his clothes and fucking you ── completely trapped by the weight of his body, gripping the sheets and whimpering as he pounds into your cunt, treating you like a personal cum dump. He would be rude and say the most vulgar things you had ever heard from anyone, the gentleman in him was gone with every thrust he made on your body. "You're nothing more than a pathetic cum dumpster," he hissed, his voice filled with biting contempt. "Do you like being degraded, my obedient whore?" he taunted, a sadistic gleam in his eyes.

He would fuck you to the point where you couldn't feel your legs anymore. With final painful strokes he breeds your pussy as he watches you cry his name. "shh... I got you boy, you were a good boy for daddy ok?" He spoke, returning to normal, holding your trembling body. After the rough treatment, you will be looked after like a prince by him ─ he will clean your body by giving you hot kisses on your face and offering you water. Kento would take you to the bathroom and clean up the traces of sex, while stroking your hair. "Sleep now, honey, I'll be here when you wake up." You knew he would be there like he promised.

© All rights reserved to @yanderestarangel on tumblr.

[mr-bas00nist]

I saw you’re requesting Jjk so maybe you and Nanami agree he can quit working since it’s tiring him out so much if he’s your cute househusband (the art you reblogged inspired this) and he treats you right when you come home because it’s what master deserves (is that too much? Feel free to ignore if it is)

Kick Off Your Shoes

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝~Sub!Afab!Nanami Kento x Dom!Male!Reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝~Not to much at all! Ngl breeding kink kind of jumped out of me at the domesticness of this so I made him afab 😭 (I need to impregnate him)

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝~Cw: Cunnlingus, squirting, creampie, slight breeding kink (more of just filling him up but baby mention), slight baby talk at the end and soft sex lol

Kento was a man who couldn’t stand working. Whether it be long hours and overnights spent at the office as a salaryman, or fighting horrific curses and protecting people as a sorcerer. He grew up knowing and understanding the purpose of hard work. But god, he fucking HATED it.

Though, after he met you and married you, it made it more bearable. He had a reason to come home, to be happy, to work. He wasn’t just running on autopilot waiting for something or someone to take him out anymore. He had a new purpose, you.

After Shibuya Kento had gotten enough money to run away with you to his dream, Malaysia. The two of you bought that dream house you always wanted right by the water. Seeing it was amazing, experiencing it was like paradise. Paradise with you.

Since you two made enough money to leave thanks to Kento, you decided to take the brunt and work on his behalf. He’d done so much, ‘it’s my turn’, you thought to yourself. So with that revelation Kento decided that he would be the one to take care of the house. You always joked with him about being your househusband and now he finally was.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You soon returned home as you parked your car in the garage. You took a deep breath inhaling the ocean air before you walked up the steps. You grabbed your keys opening the door and kicking off your shoes. Your nose was directed to the sound of humming. You smiled to yourself feeling the warmth of the house, and the smell of something yummy pulling you to the kitchen.

“Hey honey.” You smiled softly as you saw Kento with his apron on. He currently had flour dusted over his forearms, hands and cheeks. You hummed as he glanced up to you with a soft smile. “Hey handsome.” You walked over as you kissed him on the lips.

“Food smells delicious.” You smirk to yourself as he helped you take your suit coat off after washing his hands. He saw how tense you were as he trailed a hand down your back. He sighed as he gently put his hands on your broad shoulders. You spoke softly, “I’m okay for now, let’s eat.”

He then pulled his hands away before nodding. “Yeah, let’s eat.” He smiled softly at you as he kissed you on the cheek. He sat you down as he got you a plate of pasta and the homemade bread he made. He then poured you a glass of red wine as he gave a wink.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

As you were getting ready for bed you felt Kento’s hands run from your waist to your chest, his head going to the crook of your neck. He inhaled your scent as he then brought his hands to the waist of your belt giving a gentle tug. You gripped his wrist gently as you pushed him back on the bed. He gave you a look of protest but you shot him your own which shut him up.

“You know this calms me.” You spoke softly as you pulled his pants off leaving him in his navy blue boxers. You smiled as you ran your finger along his clothed pussy feeling the heat emanating from it. “Please…” he spoke softly.

Who were you to deny your sweet man? You pulled his briefs off with a slick move as you observed his soaked center. You trailed your thumb between his lips as you softly rubbed his clit in tight circles. You watched as he clenched around nothing, slick dripping like a waterfall.

You saw how much he wanted to beg but he stayed quiet, this was your time to wind down. You continued inspecting his pussy as you gently pushed a finger to his hilt. He moaned softly as he moved his hand to your shoulder. You began slowly pumping a finger in and out as you looked up to see his reactions.

He had his head relaxed against the pillow as he moaned softly. Groans and whimpers slipping past his slick lips. Another finger was pushed into him as you began curling your fingers inside. You listened in awe to the squelch and wetness of his dripping pussy around your fingers.

You smiled softly as you leaned down, mouth enveloping his swollen clit as you circled your lips around the bud. His toes curled as he let out a loud groan. He propped himself up on his elbows as he looked down at you. Heavy eyes peering up at him as you lost yourself in the taste of his musk.

Kento began groaning and grunting increasingly louder as you felt his walls begin to tighten. You pulled your fingers out as you roughly rubbed his clit with two precise fingers back and forth. His back arched as he let out a cry, liquid spurting out in small streams onto you and the sheets.

“There he is… shhhh, atta boy…” you smiled as you popped your fingers into your mouth sucking on them. He stared at you dazedly before he registered you sliding your belt off. “I’d eat you out longer but…. I’m aching for you honey… think you can take some more?” You asked softly.

He nodded quickly as you chuckled. “I’m going to pound you nice and deep… cum in you nice and deep.. I know that pussy wants it… doesn’t it?” You asked softly knowing he wasn’t really going to give you an answer. Though the flush on his face was enough to tell you.

You slid your pulsing flesh back and forth on his sloppy cunt before you gripped yourself and slowly pushed in. You slid into the hilt as you pulled his legs together and put them along your body. You wrapped your arms around them as you began thrusting.

He gripped the back of his pillow as his jaw dropped open with a soft moan. As much as you wanted to fuck him slow and soft… the stress from work and his warm vice around you was driving you up a wall. You began thrusting back and forth focusing on each expression his handsome face gave.

Slicked back blond strands falling in his face, hazel eyes squeezed shut, face scrunched up and eyebrows furrowed. He looked like he was trying to solve a complex arithmetic problem. You smiled softly at him as you thrusted back, forth, back, forth. His pussy sloshing around you as he sucked your dick back in as soon as you pulled back.

“Sucking me in soooo tight…. You want me to cum in you? Fill that pussy and give you my baby?” You asked curiously with a coo as you trailed a reassuring hand down to his hip as you gave a squeeze. “Y-yeah- ah~ so good… m’ so full!” He exclaimed as his hazel eyes peered open.

You adjusted your position so that his legs were over both of your shoulders. You leaned over him as you put your elbows on his side as you kissed him passionately. You watched as he brought his hand down to his clit, mewling into your mouth as he began vigorously rubbing his clit.

You began feeling that telltale sign of orgasm impending as you cooed. “You want to cum with me? Want to cream on my dick honey?” You asked softly. Tone not at all fitting the filthy words coming out your mouth. He nodded rapidly as he threw his head back.

He wrapped his arms around your neck as you brought your own hand back down to his clit. You picked up your pace on everything as he clamped down on you. You let out a groan into his neck as you both were set over the edge by one another. You felt your orgasm deep in your stomach as you came inside him, heavy balls emptying inside while he squirted all over your stomach and the bed.

You hummed as you stayed in him. “Think it’s gonna take?” You asked him softly to which he smiled holding your hand with his ringed one. “Hopefully… I think a little one would be a nice addition to the family…” he looked down to where you guys met. “They’ll be perfect huh?”

He nodded with a grin. “Just like you..”

A/n: Hopefully you guys fw afab Nanami. Ngl, love writing with pussy involved lmao. Certified munch 😚🤳🏽. Anyways, see you guys in the next!

[sooniebby]

Pleek danny i am begging for dilf nanamin who cant so much as make small talk with Ijichi's son reader without wanting to grab the reader and bend him over the nearest object,,,, huuhdhjdjsh for kinks,,,,,, sir kink, impact play, brat taming,,,, also ftm reader bcs yk <3

ఌ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

꧁ 𝙆𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 7.1k

Warnings › reader is kinda ditzy. But also unintentionally bratty and kinda crazy. Age difference, obvs. Plot… again—Femboy-ish reader in the fact some of his clothes are more feminine. Slight transphobia but nothing terrible, just two people who suck ass. Slow-ish slow burn like the Toji fic… also just start fucking randomly

Kinks › use of pussy/cunt/feminine terms, sir kink, impact play, brat taming. Reader is called good boy.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“Excuse my son, I need to drive him to his performance.”

“Hiii~!”

You wave at the man who gets into your dad’s car. You didn’t know what type of job he did actually. He told you, ‘driver’ and that was it. So you never thought to actually question it. Though, seeing the people he usually drives… you’re starting to think he’s a mafia’s getaway driver.

This guy looked to be a bit younger than your dad, though certainly older than you. Blonde hair that was previously slicked back and now a bit messy. He sat in the passenger seat and was looking at his phone, texting someone.

When he was walking up to the car earlier, you were pretty sure he was holding a butcher knife.. but it was dark so you decided to think you were over thinking it.

You sat in the back seat, watching the street lights fade past as your dad practically speeds down to the place you were performing today.

You played the piano. Not as a job, just as something for extra cash as a college student. It helped a lot—but it was hard to find jobs in the area, most were so far that you had to have Ijichi drive you.

The car came to a halt once Ijichi reached the house you were playing at. Some rich function happening. It didn’t matter, as long as it payed well.

“Thanks, Dad. Bye, Blondie.” You said, not waiting for any type of response as you stepped out. But much to your confusion, your dad and blondie got out of the car. Though they didn’t seem to be going towards the house you were. Just looking at the abandoned building a few blocks down.

Huh… maybe your dad really is in the yakuza business.

Shit, why didn’t that pay well?

You pushed back any curiosity to see what they were up to and walk inside the house. The performance, like always, was easy. You chose the fanciest but easiest pieces to play on the piano. It was hard doing it for hours straight with only ten minutes breaks between.

It was around two hours at the party, that your phone started ringing. You tried to ignore it, wanting to finish the piece you were playing. It was going well until the sound of something collapsing outside caught the guests attention. You heard screaming and yelling as everyone was moving around in a frenzy.

But you stayed put, knowing that if you stood up, you’d get trampled. Everyone was acting too frantic for your liking. Once there was a few people left, you grabbed your bag and walked out of the home, staring right at what looked to be a building collapsed onto itself.

It was the building Blondie and your dad was looking at. It confused you as there was a crowd of people running to their fancy cars and speeding away for safety. No one called the police —all too focused on their own lives. You stepped forward, towards the street to the now collapsed building. It was old.. but how did it just break down like that? That’s not normal. Did something push into it?

“Ijichi.”

A hand grabbed your shoulder. You shrieked and began to flail your arms around.

“Unhand me, troglodyte!!! I took taekwondo four years ago! I.. remember something!!”

“Calm down. Your father is just looking for you.”

You flinched when the hand moved to grab one of your arms, effortlessly stopping your failed attempt of taekwondo. You glanced up to see Blondie, his eyebrows furrowed while there was a small little cut on his cheek. Huh, was that always there? His clothes looked dusty, as if he was rolling around in dirt.

Was he in the building before it collapsed?

“Oh, Blondie—!”

“—Nanami.”

“That’s what I said. What happened to that building? It just fell.”

Blondie—Nanami hummed. “Old buildings can fall apart after a few years of being unkept.”

“Uh… okay.” You muttered, weirded out by his answer but decided that would be enough. “Where’s Dad?”

“The car.” Nanami nodded towards your father’s car that was parked farther away from everything. You saw your father leaning against the car, his arm looking a bit.. mangled to say the least. Feeling a sense of panic, you sprinted over there and came to stop once you got a clear picture of what happened to him.

His arm looked as if it was purposely twisted into an uncomfortable position. Ijichi gave you a tight smile, obviously taken from the pain. He used his free hand to lightly pat your head.

“What… happened?” You whispered, glancing over at Nanami as he walked over. You felt an odd sensation of protection as you quickly stood between him and your father, glaring at Nanami with a tint of suspicion.

Nanami raised an eyebrow, obviously confused on why he was being suspected as a the culprit. It was odd because he was obviously hurt as well—though to a lesser extent. The cut on his cheek wasn’t the only one as there was on his forearm that was actually still bleeding through the light bandage that was used from his sleeve.

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Ijichi muttered. “Did you get paid?”

“Oh.. no. I forgot to ask for money—don’t know if she’ll pay me now though.”

“Well—as you can see, (Name), I’m badly hurt. I’ll need to go get this checked out.”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled. “I’ll drive you. I’ve been getting better.”

“No—I need you to do me a favor.” Ijichi glanced over at Nanami before leaning in close to you. “I’m sure you know I’m not just a driver at this point—but for your safety I can’t say too much.”

You gasped, dramatically putting a hand over your lips. “No…. You’re a Yakuza member?!”

Ijichi stared at you as if you were crazy. “What—? Anyway, I’ll need you to stay at Nanami’s for a few weeks. Just so I can get better at the hospital.”

“Blondie?”

“Nanami.” Nanami cut in.

“That’s what I said,” you rolled your eyes. “Why? I can stay at the house alone.”

“It’s not safe. Someone…” Ijichi paused, as if he was wondering how much he should actually tell you. “It’s just not safe. We don’t know if he’d go after you. It’s safer to stay with a sorcerer—uh.”

You blinked. “Sorcerer? Right…” You grinned, thinking your dad was just trying to be subtle about his connection to the Yakuza. “Of course. Dangerous… gang leaders and all the like.”

Ijichi simply sighed. “Yes, sure. It will only be three to four weeks maximum. I’ll be healed by then. Nanami will drive me to the hospital and then he’ll take you home so you can pack a bag, okay?”

“Fine. Doesn’t seem like I have a choice,” you whined, pouting.

“Yes, you didn’t.” Ijichi said. He used his free hand and opened the door to passenger side of the car. You sat in the back once more while Nanami went to the driver side. As he drove, you couldn’t help but glance back at the collapsed building. While Yakuza were dangerous—you haven’t seen them collapse a building before. That’d just draw too much attention to them.

At the very least, you hoped Nanami lived close to your university. It was tiring having to rely on your dad’s car to get places since you lived on the outskirts of the city. But there was an aching feeling in your stomach. How.. did your dad’s arm twist like that? Will it actually be able to be fixed?

Right before you tore your eyes away from the building, you saw the flicker of red eyes.

𖥸

Blondie’s place was actually pretty nice. It was a nice little apartment—decorated decently. Though it was obviously done by an older man. You felt odd being in a stranger’s place but you trusted your father’s judgement so you didn’t complain a lot. At least verbally.

The apartment was on the sixth floor, with nice glass windows in the living room giving you a nice gaze into the city. The building lights kept the room bright even before Blondie turned on the lights. You checked the bag you were carrying, making sure you had your shots. Blondie was carrying the heavier bags—you had practically forced him to.

Just a couple of pouts and blinks with your long eyelashes got him carrying them.

“I have a spare bedroom that you’ll stay in. There’s no attached bathroom.” He said. He walked over to a hallway that had three doors. The left was the bathroom. The right was your new bedroom and the center is obviously Nanami’s room.

As he opened the door, the room was less decorated than the rest. But that made sense—no one would be in this room often. The room didn’t look too small—a queen size bed in the middle and a singular night stand to accompany it.

A small dresser in front of the wall facing the bed—and…

A tv that had a crack on the right side of it. Blondie noticed your shocked face as he placed your bags on the bed. “The movers dropped it.” He simply said.

“Eh. Does it still work?” You muttered, grabbing the remote that rested on the nightstand. You turned it on and what played was cartoons—but in English.

“Somehow it’s stuck on Australian cartoons. I can’t change it, it was bought second hand.” He said. He grabbed the remote and seemed to try again and see what was wrong with the settings. You wondered how he could understand the English but didn’t ask. He must’ve studied English or something.

Nanami hummed as he gave you back the remote. “You can still at least flip through the channels. A few have Japanese subtitles.” Was all he said as he left the room. You glanced over at him as he closed the door behind himself.

Huh. That was abrupt.

You placed your bag on the floor and decided to just unpack everything into the small closet. It was weird to be staying at a man’s place you literally met today but if your dad trusted him, you’d “trust” him too. But at the thought of your dad, you kept thinking of his arm. The mangled arm that couldn’t possibly be fixed. But he seemed so sure.

You knew your dad treated you a bit childish compared to adults your age with their parents. It was okay when you were a kid but ever since you started transitioning it has gotten worse. But you knew why. He just wanted to protect you… It was evident in him not trusting to allow you stay home alone.

The light clink of syringes caught your attention when you accidentally jostled your bag. You took out one syringe and one of the small bottle. It took forever for you to even get the option to take testosterone. As you prepped yourself for your shot, you thought back to the red eyes. Did you imagine that?

Did you actually see that…? Or was your eyes playing tricks on you?

As you packaged the dirty syringe into a plastic bag, ready to be disposed of, there was a knock on the door. The door opened and Blondie was holding a bowl of noodles. He placed them on the nightstand.

“I would’ve made you a proper meal.” He said, vaguely pointing to his properly bandaged arm. “But I need to be careful. When you’re finished, put the bowl in the sink. Good night.”

Then he left. Again.

Gosh, why was he so abrupt when it came to his goodbyes?

The ramen was okay. It’s as good as gas station ramen is gonna be. As you placed the bowl in the sink, you walked past the living room to reach your room when you passed by a photo. The photo was inside a glass cabinet—connected to the small piece framing around the tv. You leaned in close, wanting to see who it was.

It looked to be a much younger Nanami.

Oh wow—was he emo? You laughed to yourself at his haircut. Next to him was a girl, a guy with white hair—strange, and a guy with black hair.

Wow, another emo.

You noticed someone next to Nanami, on his left.

A guy with brown hair. He looked cute—he had a wide smile. Cute.

You hummed. Their uniform looked kinda weird. Nothing close to what you wore in high school. Hm, were they also about in the Yakuza?

Do the Yakuza hire young people?

As you thought deeply on your “profound” question, you pulled away from the cabinet. Well, it wasn’t much of your concern. If you were lucky, Blondie didn’t work for the Yakuza anymore. With a huff, you walked back to your room and went to sleep for the night.

𖥸

“Blondie?”

He wasn’t there. You checked around the apartment the next morning, wanting to simply talk—mainly ask him to make you some breakfast—but he wasn’t there. Or anywhere for that matter. You plopped down into the couch and checked your phone, pouting to yourself as your thumb hovered over your father’s contact.

“She’s always in your shadow! Why did you raise her like that?!”

“Don’t speak about my son like that! You were the one who decided to not raise him, it’s not (Name)’s fault he doesn’t want to go to you.”

“Him, him, him! It’s time you stop allowing this nonsense to continue, Ijichi.”

“Whose last name does he have? Ijichi (Name)! I’ll be the one to raise my son how I see fit.”

“Fine! Continue letting ‘him’ play dress up! When that child of yours is still living in your home while giving you no grandchildren, don’t cry about how you wished you had a normal daughter!”

“Ijichi.”

You gasped, looking up as you saw Blondie staring down at you. Your eyes felt blurry—you couldn’t really see him. Blondie kneeled down, removing your glasses as he handed you a handkerchief. It was soft in your hand, as you lightly dabbed it under your eyes before full on using it to stop your tears. You didn’t even know what happened.

You didn’t want to think about her.

That woman who carried you for nine months.

Gosh, you hated her.

But she still brought you to tears so easily.

“Th…anks… Blondie.” You whispered.

“Nanami.”

“That’s what I said.”

Blondie didn’t seem to care about why you were crying. Or at the very least, was being respectful in not asking. He was still a stranger. You continued to wipe away your tears, silently grateful he was back from wherever he left off to.

“Where’d… You go?”

“Store. I was missing a few things to make breakfast.”

You glanced over to the kitchen and indeed saw him preparing something. When did he even get back? Were you that deep into your trauma flashback that you didn’t hear him? You felt your cheeks flush hot. Fuck, that’s so embarrassing. As you began rubbing a bit harder to try and lessen your puffy red eyes—your phone began to ring.

With speed you’d question back at, you checked to see who was calling.

It wasn’t your father.

Shit, it was just some guy you had in your class. The damn leech when it came to your recent project you were doing for history.

He didn’t want to do anything and embarrassingly enough, you were doing everything at this point.

You tossed your phone onto the coffee table and sighed, draping the handkerchief over your eyes as you leaned back onto the couch. You’d speak to him tomorrow. The sound of chopping and sizzling filled the room as you slowly drifted off to a comfortable nap.

It always felt good to sleep after a cry.

When you woke up, it was dark out. Shit. You glanced around the living room—noticing you had a blanket on you. As you folded the blanket back and rested it on the couch, you walked to the kitchen. You opened the fridge and saw the food Blonde was probably making. It looked to just be an omelette.

Good enough.

After microwaving and sitting down back at the couch to eat you briefly wondered where Nanami could’ve went.

Ah.

Yakuza, probably.

𖥸

“Ijichi, why didn’t you answer my phone call?”

You sighed as you were roughly grabbed by your infamous slacker. You stared at him with no intention to really speak to him—just let him rant about how “you’re not listening to him” or “why do you hate him?” Whatever bullshit he comes up with.

“I’m trying to help with this project, really,” he begins and then just blabbers on.

You don’t pay attention. It goes on for maybe a few minutes until you see a crowd of people leaving their classroom. Perfect. You pushed slacker’s hands off of you and seamlessly phased into the group of people walking away.

It’s only been about two days but it felt like years since you’ve seen your dad.

Huh.

Maybe she was right about—

You shake your head. Fuck that lady! She’s burnt flesh now anyway.

As you walk away from your university, you came face to face with a dilemma. You don’t know where Nanami’s apartment is—you kinda just left on auto pilot to not miss class. And shocker, you never got his number to call him.

Well shit.

You aimlessly walked around the city for a bit, just enjoying the nice day. The sunlight shined down onto you as you giggled a bit. Hm, the sun is nice. You decided to just text your dad for Nanami’s phone number. So while you waited for him to answer your text—you stopped by a nearby cafe for some coffee.

Right when you left the cafe, you noticed something weird.

Red eyes just staring at you—right from across the street. Inside a building that looked to be abandoned. Wow, when did Japan have so many abandoned buildings. You instinctively stepped forward, trying to see if this was just something you were seeing by chance.

You used the cross walk to go across the street, getting face to face with the building. But the eyes were gone. You hummed, starting to believe maybe you were going through it. This is perhaps the longest you’ve gone no contact with your dad—you’re probably just worried. Especially with the injury you saw him with.

A mangled arm.

Anyone would be reeked with worry.

As you pulled out your phone to check if your dad answered you yet, you felt yourself freeze. There was someone watching you. No… something.

You glanced up, looking into one of the building’s window and gasped in shock at the sight of what you were seeing. It wasn’t human. And it looked like a huge centipede, staring at you as if you were a piece of meat. You booked it, immediately.

Your legs burn from running but you didn’t stop. You kept going and going until you felt a bit safe in a public area. Just… what the hell was that? When did centipedes get so big? And it was looking at you so hungrily?! What the hell?! With your thoughts focused solely on your new discovery of big centipedes, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You shrieked, ready to fight but sighed seeing it was just the slacker.

“Ijichi, man, the fuck are you avoiding me for? I’m seriously trying to get a good grade here! If I fail…”

You tune him out again. Wondering how the fuck he was able to find you. His grip was tight around your arm before it slowly slid to your back. You slightly paid attention to what the hell he think he was doing touching you so much until you felt his hand slightly slide down your waist.

“What in—”

“—look, if the reason you’re just ignoring me because you’re scared about what you really are, most people practically know and don’t care. I don’t care about that queer stuff!”

You blinked at him, wondering how he went from zero to a hundred. You didn’t care that people could probably tell you were trans so long as they didn’t bother you. But now you were about pissed off this guy was making you do more work for this damn project and now making it seem like it was your fault—not his inability to work.

“Listen here, Slacker—”

But you didn’t have to say much when he was pulled off of you. You grinned. “Oh! Great.” Slacker fell to the ground and looked up—you did the same, looking to see who was your savior of the day.

Oh.

Just Blondie.

“Oh, Blondie. I was looking for your apartment, I also need your phone number.” You said, smiling softly, forgetting all about the slacker on the floor. Blondie simply hummed as he grabbed your arm and began guiding you to his place, leaving slacker on the floor yelling after you.

Which was… two blocks from where you were standing.

Oh wow. Definitely made sense in why you got to your university so quick. Blondie’s apartment was just ten minutes away. Ahah… embarrassing.

Once inside the apartment, Blondie seemed set on ignoring you again. Which seemed to be all he was doing these few days you stayed here. But you didn’t know why. You huffed to yourself, pouting as you dropped your bag on the floor and plopped down onto the couch, ready to watch some tv.

“Blondie~!” You sang, grinning lightly. “You’re in the kitchen still, right? Can you get me something to eat? Please~?”

You didn’t get a reply back. You briefly wondered if he wasn’t going to do it so you moved to sit up but was proven wrong when Blondie gave you a turkey sandwich. You quickly took the plate and began eating, humming after having not eaten lunch. But Blondie was still staring down at you, his eyebrow slightly raised as if he was waiting for you to say something.

Your lips pursed as you thought what he needed to hear until you gasped. “Oh, thanks, Blondie.” You muttered with your mouth still full as you began eating again.

You only got a huff in response as he walked away to do whatever he usually does. As you ate, you thought back to that centipede. Was that really real? There’s no such thing as monsters, anyway. You wondered if you should tell Blondie—but what could he do realistically?

Well, he’s in the Yakuza, maybe he could find a way.

𖥸

It’s been about two weeks now. Your dad still hasn’t returned much of your texts but you had gotten closer to Blondie. As much as you could anyway. He was very cut and dry with his answers to you.

You ask him how his day went, he’d answer with a curt: “okay.”

Ask him about what he does for work: “office job.”

He seemed to have trouble really looking at you when you spoke to him. He’d glance at you and then suddenly look at whatever he was doing with such intensity as you tried asking him questions. Or even just talking to him. Boring!

You were starting to believe he had a problem with the clothes you wore. When you dressed in baggy clothing, he would look at you more. But whenever you wore a tighter top or even shorts that showed a sliver of your ass, it was like looking at you would’ve burned his retinas!

Geez, did he not like guys in tighter clothing?

Damn… you must’ve been pretty ugly to him.

As you mentally cried to yourself about being seen as ugly on the couch, you glanced at your phone. You haven’t seen that slacker after you sent in the project. Of course you told the professor you did most and if not all of the work. So, you got an A—obviously.

You haven’t seen any human sized centipedes in a while so you were set to just believe you were imagining it. As you tugged down at your shorts that were acting like underwear at this point, you heard the front door open. Oh, Blondie’s back!

You grinned and went over to him, smiling. “Blondie! You’re early, they let you off?”

Blondie hummed. “I had a half day.” He simply said, walking over to the living room as he sat down with a grunt. He looked a bit tired so you decided to just not say anything else to him. There was always a few days when he just came home with a look of dread and was totally silent.

You were really starting to believe he was a Yakuza member.

As you turned to walk to your room, you bent down for a second to pick up a pillow that had fallen when you previously jumped off the couch. When you stood back you, you turned around to see Blondie staring at you with wide eyes. You simply smiled at him and placed the pillow back on the couch. Weird, why was he staring at you like that.

“I’m going to my room. Call me if you need me.” You said, waving goodbye as you sprinted off to your room, not knowing that Blondie’s gaze didn’t leave you at all.

𖥸

Nanami rubbed the bridge of his nose as he tried not to think about you essentially just flashing him earlier. When you had bent down to grab the pillow, he saw that your shorts, that were too short in his opinion, the crotch area had kinda sort of—clung to one side. So he saw it, at least just one lip—of your cunt.

And he felt angry with himself that his cock actually twitched at the sight. Was he some damn animal? He’d certainly been feeling like that the last two weeks. He couldn’t exactly… speak well with you. You just staring up at him with your cute smile but painfully naughty clothing.

Who just wears a shirt that is practically clinging to your body that it hides nothing to the imagination! And your shorts… who wears such short shorts with no underwear?

He wasn’t sure if he could take another few weeks with you here. Not if he didn’t want to just slam you against the wall and take you there.

But no, he couldn’t do that. You were Ijichi’s son. And he was pretty sure when Ijichi said: “take care of my son.” He didn’t mean fuck his son. Though he kinda wished he did.

It’ll be fine. Just a minimum of two more weeks… then you’d be gone back at home with Ijichi.

𖥸

Nanami wished he had just gone straight to bed. He was sitting on the couch watching tv when you suddenly appeared, dressed in a stupid crop top and short shorts. You plopped down beside him before resting your head right on his lap. When he tried to push you away, you only whined, pouting up at him to let you stay.

Damn brat.

He tried focusing back on the show he was watching as you seemed to only have wanted contact with him. You hummed softly before giggling.

“Nana—Blondie,” you said, looking over at him. “Today’s my mom’s death anniversary.”

He glanced down at you, a bit confused on why you didn’t seem bothered on your mother being dead.

“She died in a car crash. Drunk driving. The hospital said she burned to death in her car… witnesses said they heard her screaming as they tried to open the car door and out the fire.” You sighed, a soft smile on your lips as you recount your mother’s death. “I was 18. It was a good early birthday gift. But Dad said I shouldn’t be so cruel to her even if she was a bitch.”

“It’s not strange,” you said, turning your face to rest on Nanami’s leg as you glanced up at him. Your eyelashes batting as your lips were pulled into a pout. “To not care about a bitch dying, right? I’m sure there’s someone everyone has that they just can’t wait to die.”

Nanami wasn’t sure what brought this out. He was actually a bit worried honestly that you were so nonchalant about death. Though he could tell that despite this act you were pulling, her death did affect you… but perhaps it truly did bring a sense of peace. Especially if her death was truly that horrible.

“I can’t speak on that.” Was all he said, deciding it was best to let the conversation die out. He’d tell Ijichi to schedule you a therapist once he’s better.

“Hm, yeah, I did bring it out of nowhere. Anyway, my birthday is in four days! Getting me anything?” You giggled.

“No. I didn’t know it was your birthday.”

“What? Blondie~! Whaddya mean? I’m practically your roommate by now, and roommates give each other gifts.”

“Are you truly my roommate when I do everything?”

Which was true. You were more like a freeloader. Nanami did the chores, cleaned up mostly after you, and paid for literally everything. You were silently forbidden on doing your piano jobs so you were kinda shit out of luck, relying on Nanami at this point.

You simply huffed. “Meanie.” As you moved your head to face Nanami’s stomach. Nanami couldn’t help but flinch as he felt your nose accidentally brush against his crotch area. His grip on the remote tightened as he so desperately wished he was rude enough to push you off of him.

It was quiet for bit, just the tv going on with the show Nanami was watching. And subconsciously, Nanami began to calm down a bit and just allowed you to stay there. Maybe you really did just want some comfort.

There was something pressing against his crotch. He glanced down to see you, purposefully, rubbing your nose against his crotch before pulling away. You yawned, acting as if you were just essentially teasing him and grinned.

“I’m going to bed, Blondie. Think about what you’re getting me for my birthday!” You winked, standing up as you walked back to your room. He was so sure you were intentionally swaying your hips. What the hell was that?

And why the hell was he horny from a freaking nose rub?!

𖥸

Blondie, Blondie, Blondie

That’s all you called him. Occasionally, you’d say, “Nana—” but then quickly switch back to Blondie. It was as if you were intentionally trying to get him upset. Nanami didn’t know how a calm man like Ijichi could have a son like you.

The only similarity you two had was the glasses you both wore. It actually was the same brand and shape—weird.

You seemed to have two pairs of glasses though. You were the ones similar to Ijichi’s often and this pair of red ones whenever you were feeling “annoying.” Nanami had come to expect the red cat eye glasses whenever you wanted to be a little brat.

And look at that, you were wearing them right now.

Nanami was sitting on the couch, checking something in his phone when you suddenly appeared behind him. He didn’t look up, waiting for you say something until he felt your arms wrap around his neck. His body stiffened as you leaned close, pressing your lips against the tip of his ear.

“Guess what’s tomorrow?” You whispered. “B-i-r-t-h-d-a-y.” You intentionally made each letter sound breathy, pausing just a split second to let them sit heavy in the air.

You pulled away and giggled. “Got my present? You gotta make up for Dad,” you went to sit on the couch and glanced over at Nanami who looked as if he would keel over if a gust of wind blew past him. His grip was tight on his phone, you were a bit worried it’d crack.

“What was that?” Nanami suddenly said, still looking straight.

“Was what? It was for dramatic effect!” You said honestly, not knowing how sexual you had just sounded in his ear. Nanami turned over to face you with a look of pure disbelief while you simply grinned.

“Aw~ poor Blondie, don’t take it so seriously!” You playfully pat his leg before grabbing the tv remote and turning it on. You were engulfed into the random Japanese drama playing while Nanami could only just stare at you in awe.

Wow. You really were a damn brat.

It was fine though. He had the perfect birthday present now.

𖥸

It was your birthday!!

Which meant no school. Why would you willingly go to school on your day? Only losers do that! You sighed comfortably on the couch as you turned on the tv to play random Korean dramas for most of the day. And that’s how you spent most of the day.

It was around noon when your phone buzzed. You expected it to be one of your very few friends that you have but much to your shock with was your dad! You squealed happily and quickly opened the text he sent.

‘Happy Birthday, 🐹, I’ve been feeling better, don’t worry about me. I’ll be able to call you soon. I hope you aren’t giving Nanami too much trouble.’

You pouted but quickly texted him back, stating that you and Blondie were practically pals at this point. It brought a smile to your lips to see the hamster emoji though. You had quite chubby cheeks even has an adult that your dad loving pinching. It always looked bigger when you ate.

It was commented more when you were a kid but there was still some people who would—lovingly—call you a hamster in disguise.

Finally having confirmation that your dad was at least alright, you felt a heavy weight lift off your shoulders. You yawned and stretched out, turning your attention back to the tv as you spent the rest of the day lounging around.

It was dark out when Nanami finally came back home. You waved from the couch, not bothering to get up. You were always lazy on your birthday. Definitely from being a bit too spoiled on these days. But hey, at least you didn’t act like this everyday.

You could see Nanami did have a small box in his hand as he moved to the kitchen. You silently hoped it was a cake as you finally sat up a bit and moved to join Nanami in the kitchen.

“So now you’re greeting me,” Nanami said, placing the box in the fridge. You pursed your lips, wondering why he seemed a bit upset. It wasn’t like you greeted him all the time when he walked through the door.

“You like that stuff? Aw~,” you walk over to him, resting your hand on his shoulder. “You like those couple stuff? So cute, Blondie!”

You hummed when you felt his hand grab yours, slowly pulling it away from his shoulder. You glanced up, wondering if you perhaps went a bit too far but Nanami didn’t seem angry. On the contrary, he seemed like his usual self. He used his free hand to fix his glasses as his grip on yours tighten.

“I’ve allowed you to continually act like a brat throughout your stay here—I know what you truly need as a birthday present.”

With sudden strength, you found yourself pinned against the wall, his body pressed up against yours. You were wearing a long shirt but your usual short shorts.

“Blon—”

“—Sir. Since Nanami is a problem for you to say, that should be easy for you.”

You blushed slightly, having never really called someone that before. But somehow, you didn’t find it in you to disobey. Nanami hitched up your shirt, grabbing the front end and pressing it against your lips. It took you a second but you bit down on it.

“Good boy.”

Oh no.

Y’know, you did find Nanami attractive, but you were always the type of person to want to stick to your age range. But this…

“You kept whining about wanting a birthday present,” his hands gripped your shorts, “do you want this?” He whispered against your ear, practically giving you an out.

You gripped the wall in front of you but felt yourself nodding, blushing in embarrassment.

“I need words, (Name).” He said. You felt your legs tremble. You wanted him to say your name again.

“Yes… keep going.” You whispered.

Nanami hummed in approval as he pulled down your shorts, making you left up your legs so they can be fully taken off. Now you were standing in the kitchen, pressed against the wall with just a shirt. Nanami’s hand traced your upper thigh, his hand ghosting your cunt but he never brought it close enough.

You whined slightly, looking back at him with pleading eyes. He gave you small smirk.

“Despite it being your birthday, you acted bad today, Baby.”

“H..huh? How..?” You muffled out through your t-shirt, a look of surprise in your eyes.

“You don’t really remember?” Nanami gripped your hips tightly as he forced you to pull away from the wall. Your hands pressed tightly against the wall as your back arched. His hands slid down your hips to your butt as he harshly gripped them, spreading them apart teasingly as you whimpered.

“You can’t have short term memory loss, (Name). Think.”

You thought for a second before humming. “Greet… didn’t greet you..” you muffled.

“Good boy. So you know you’ll have to be punished for not properly greeting me? It’s what’s brats get for misbehaving.”

“m… not a brat.”

Smack!

“I don’t like liars.” Was all he said before you felt another slap against your ass. You whimpered, your body shaking at each spanking. He wasn’t gentle in the slightest, not leaving room for a break. It was continuous spankings against each cheek, earning deep screams from you.

The spankings filled the silent apartment, swirling in symphony with your high pitched screams. You didn’t think this was really a good birthday present but you couldn’t deny that it was actually feeling a bit good in a weird way.

After a few more slaps, Nanami began rubbing your sore butt cheeks, pressing a wet kiss into your shoulder.

“Good boy. You handled that perfectly.” He said, leaning close as he grabbed your left leg and lifted it up. Your back was now pressed against his chest as you tried to keep a steady balance with now just one foot.

“Th…ank…you.. Sir.” You muttered out, tears staining your cheeks as you looked up at him. Nanami cooed, wiping away a few of your tears with his free hand.

“Now, do you think you deserve your present?”

You nodded, “yes.. yes! Please..”

Nanami seemed to take a bit of pity on you as he simply nodded. He wanted to tease you a bit more but he decided that since it was your first time and birthday, he’d be nicer. Though next time he’d be much more cruel.

You whimpered as you felt his hand graze your cunt, teasing one finger against your wet folds. It had been a minute since you even touched yourself down there. You were always too anxious that Nanami would be able to hear you or he might come home earlier than expected.

Just feeling his finger teasing you could bring you to an orgasm, but Nanami had different plans. He slipped in two fingers, earning a soft mewl from you. His fingers were large, easily stretching you out as he got you ready for his cock.

It wasn’t until you felt yourself close to an orgasm was when Nanami finally pulled out. Damn tease.

The feeling of a cock rubbing between your folds caused you to flinch as you gripped at the wall as some type of support. This position wasn’t the most comfortable but you were way too horny to walk to the bedroom or couch. You wanted him now.

Nanami was slow as he thrusted his cock inside your tight cunt. He grunted as you gasped, trying to get used to the large stretch. His fingers didn’t compare to it! Even though you were prepared, it took some effort for him to fully be inside of you.

You shivered, suddenly thinking that you were essentially fucking your dad’s ‘coworker.’ Fuck, well, maybe a few pouts and batting of the eyelashes will get you off with minimal punishment.

“Fuck… I’m sorry,” Nanami suddenly whispered.

“Mhm?”

With great force, your whole body was suddenly shoved against the wall once more as Nanami’s hands were on either side of your head, effectively caging you in. You felt him almost pull out fully until he slammed right back inside of you, causing you to cry out in shock.

You helplessly gripped at the wall for some sort of purchase as Nanami fucked into you like an animal. His hands gripped your hips tightly, moving you as if you were a fleshlight on his cock. The only sounds coming from his was animalistic grunts.

Your cunt clamped tightly around Nanami’s cock, as you tried to babble something but only moans left your lips. Nanami seemed so heavily into chasing his own orgasm at this point.

“Si…Sir… ‘m com..!” You tried to say but could only cry out as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a waterfall. Your fingers dug ineffectually into the wall as a way of purchasing yourself against Nanami’s harsh thrusts.

He continued going even after you came, his hips slapping against your sore ass. As his grip on your hips tightened to were it felt as if his fingers was digging into the skin, he slammed his hips one last time. His cock was deep inside when he finally cummed, coating your insides.

You shrieked, shocked that he came inside. The warm cum slowly seeped down your thighs as you felt your knees collapse but Nanami was quick to hold you up.

Nanami leaned against your back, breathing heavily. “Sorry… I didn’t mean for that happen..” he muttered. “Just lost control.”

You hummed, gently wiggling your butt. “Maybe I’m just that pretty.” You teased, looking back at Nanami. You giggled slightly, enjoying his unimpressed face.

A moan left your lips as you felt his cock slowly slide out before pushing back it. You stared at Nanami in shock, surprised an older man seemed to have a quick reload. He simply grinned.

You were screwed.

𖥸

You hummed softly as Nanami rubbed your sore butt cheeks, rubbing some cream on it to stop the pain. It had been just a few days after your birthday and now this “spanking” thing was constant.

And fucking. Very often.

Nanami was always cool and collected during your punishments but whenever he got his dick inside your pussy, he could never control himself properly. It was honestly funny. And a bit scary that he could do more than one round so quickly.

The most you two have done so far was three.

And that was just a few minutes ago.

“Hm, Blondie,” you still called him that outside of sex, “did I tell you about this huge centipede I saw in this abandoned building? It had red eyes and everything, it was like… human sized!”

Nanami’s calming massage suddenly stopped. You looked back and raised an eyebrow, wondering what was wrong. He was looking at you with wide eyes—which was shocking, Nanami never looked at you like that before.

Maybe being a Yakuza member didn’t mean he could handle it.

Well, shoot.

But you couldn’t help but think Nanami wasn’t shocked about the centipede.

More about that you saw it.

Huh. Yakuza members are weird.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

I think I made reader a bit weird lolol. Way longer than I thought it was going to be. I hope I did nanami justice, I have trouble writing him for some reason

Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @remdayz @flurrina @iwishtobeacrow @smellwell @kiiyoooo @chill-guy-but-cooler @tomoeroi @mello-life69 @rhetorical-conscience @tehyunnie @ofclyde

[bredstick]

Hello! I hope you are having a good day. This is the first time I'm making a request so if I write stupid things, please turn down my request. Male!reader can see curses even though he has no cursed energy. Although he is very kind and gentle looking, curses are running away from him because of the energy he radiates. He is descended from a clan that was destroyed by the Sukuna in history. The general characteristics of those coming from this clan are that although they are physically weak, they can destroy even the strongest curses with a single touch. Also, the men of this clan appear feminine in appearance and can be mistaken for a woman from afar. And the jujutsu sorcerers are unaware of the existence of any of this clan because they think they have all been destroyed. Also a member of this clan can be easily identified from their physical characteristics. So what is the reaction of Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, and Sukuna when the reader is able to heal curses that have been transformed from human into curses and destroy the bad curses without doing anything, even though he has no cursed energy at all?

Sorry if it's too long and complicated English is not my first language. Thank you!

JJK men find out you're a descendant from an extinct clan (male reader!)

Reactions from Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Sukuna

Gojo Satoru

▪︎ He didn't even know about the clan and its users until other people spoke up about you, how you were different from the others- already speculating you have connections to the clan.

▪︎ He was curious on who you were, since that's the first time he'd heard of you, so he arranged a group mission with you involved (principal was confused, why did the strongest need a companion?)

▪︎ First look at you he thought you were a woman until you spoke up on the mission, allerting him of certain dangers across the curse filled field. He was surprised, but it didn't really matter. He just wanted to see the powers you behold.

▪︎ Turns out the enemy was bigger than he thought, and wanted you to step back from it, considering your body was quite frail and you seemed weak to him- he didn't know what to do when the curse was moving in the speed of light towards you.

▪︎ He was just about to teleport you away, but you sensed a curse approaching you, and as a reflex you immediately put your hand up and touched it without seeing the said curse. You could feel it, not see it.

▪︎ Just as you touched it, it exploded without a second thought. You and Gojo just stood there in complete silence, Gojo's lips slowly forming a grin. You might become someone on his level.

"So, mystery boy, what's your name?"

Kento Nanami

▪︎ Didn't really care when he saw you around until he was on a mission with you, not even knowing you're the one everyone's been talking about

▪︎ "I'll take care of this" thinking you're still a newbie and don't know how to use your technique because he didn't sense any cursed energy within you

▪︎ TAKEN ABACK by the way you destroyed the higher rank curse so quickly- needed to register the fact that such a frail person could behold such power (he's totally not jealous)

▪︎ Is even more taken aback when you heal yourself, thinking that he's seeing things

▪︎ "So..... you've mastered your cursed technique I see.." he says after awkwardly standing next to you for who knows how long

(you're on the villain's side on these)

Suguru Geto

▪︎ He wasn't paying attention to you, thinking you were just a boring sorcerer with no power to overturn the world to what he wants to create- he did question your gender though lol

▪︎ Not until a fight with jujutsu sorcerers (including gojo's presence) have you really proved yourself worthy of his praise

▪︎ He was oh so so glad you were on his side when he saw your healing abilities- seeing Gojo's face drop in realization on who's clan you belonged to has made him thrilled

▪︎ "how about we rule the world together?" he said with that smirk of his;)

Toji Fushiguro

▪︎ "uhh.. what are you exactly?" would totally be his first words while meeting you

▪︎ he wasn't even listening to you until you mentioned your clan, which he heard of from the zen'in clan and how overpowered your clan compared to his was- which had a positive effect on him since he hated his own clan. The murmurs of "I'm glad the clan got wiped out years ago" was coursing through his mind while he snickered, and took on your offer of getting together for the destruction of the zen'in clan.

▪︎ When he saw your abilities and even saw that you and him both don't have cursed energy was a big win for him, thinking of treating you to a nice dinner after you're done with the killing (let's hope he can afford it)

▪︎ "I've been waiting for this" he says, slashing the clan's throats.

(here you're on the good side again)

Ryomen Sukuna

▪︎ Your abilities being shown to him made him go back to the good old days when he was slaughtering your kind to bits, giving him ptsd from you just showing him one of the techniques

▪︎ "How the hell did your kind come back?? I killed all of you" he says in the most disrespectful tone ever, making you rage

▪︎ he underestimates your power, forgetting how troublesome your clan was to kill- perhaps you were even stronger than them, making him wonder who taught you to perfect the techniques and how he could let someone slip away from his brutal slaughter.

▪︎ when he gets seriously injured, he curses under his breath and goes back into hiding in itadori's body (he simply cannot be asked to deal with your kind again)

▪︎ "That damn brat... I just need to consume all of the fingers so I can beat the shita outta him"

[aresdoll]

˖౨ৎ ⋆｡˚﹒janitor a.i bot list update P.2

【 my janitor ai acc - @ Aresangell 】

【 my venus chub acc - @ Starangell 】

【 my cai acc - @ Angelstaar 】

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Liu Kang 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He didn't pay attention to you so you decided to record a spicy video for him, but you didn't expect him to react.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - the hot guy at your gym was flirting with you. 🏳️‍⚧️ 》 transmasc miguel au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Priest Miguel O'Hara 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Miguel O'Hara chose to be a priest after a personal tragedy, he never faithfully believed in anything ── However, you soon changed that, and he had to fight not to give in to the sins of the flesh.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han /Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You and Bi Han were friends with benefits, but the two of you felt much more than just lust.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Tomas and you were friends for two years. It was obvious to everyone who looked at the way Vrbada spoke to you or looked at you that the ninja was completely in love with you; the less you saw it, whether because you ignored his feelings on purpose or simply couldn't see that there was much more than platonic love. However, with the arrival of your ex, he needed to act.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/ Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You couldn't become a ninja because you were too weak, but now, the grandmaster himself took care of you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Nanami Kento - 【 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You accidentally sent a nude to your university professor.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 OC, Needy Boyfriend - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Dmitry is your rich and needy boyfriend, who needs you 24/7, especially when he wakes up without you in his bed.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You were caught by him masturbating.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You needed money and now you have a 'sugar daddy'.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tio Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Your non blood uncle is obsessed with you. V.2

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - a family together, but apart.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Father Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You need to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. V.2

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He wants to ask you out with him.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - drinks

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Stepfather Albert Wesker - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - did you know him... V.3

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Kuai Liang - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Cramps

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Wife Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - he is your sub wife

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - boyfriend gifts

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Goth Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He liked you and your makeup. 🦇 》 gothic au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - did you get hurt

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You were living in the house of a grumpy old man, but he os very cute... 🎀 》 DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Professor Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He's your annoying chemistry professor. 📚 》 college au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Dracula - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - maybe he wants more than your blood. 🎀 》 DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Count Dracula Count - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are a teacher's assistant and help him with his classes. 🎀 》DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Nanami Kento - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】dirty secret🎀 》 DILF SERIES

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - teasing and punishment

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Ice God/Bi Han - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You are the servant of a grumpy ice god. ❄️ 》 ICE GOD/KING AU.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Mad Scientist/Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are a wonderful experience of him. 🥼 》 MAD SCIENTIST AU

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Johnny Cage - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - aftercare

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - low self esteem | 🎀 》 daddykink version

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you got pregnant with him... 🕷️ 》 miguel o’hara x blackcat!user

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Homelander - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are the new hero of the seven and he has his eyes on you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Nanami Kento - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - we never talked about ***** **** ┆ 🧼 》 fight club au, you are his tyler...

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada- 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - new recruit

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- valentine's day

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Simon Riley 'Ghost' - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - slutty torture

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - he is your father figure

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- lying between his legs

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 OC - Stepfather, Yan Jin - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - your new stepfather is rude but extremely handsome. 🎀 》DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- he needs to take care of you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Kuai Liang - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- arranged marriage...

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】survivor.🕊️ 》TWD AU, He's Your Negan.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Titan Lord Raiden - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - reencounter

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Step!Brother, Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】breedtable ─ m!preg.🕊️ 》DARK SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Yandere! Homelander - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - a dark hero who is in love. 🕊️ 》 DARK SERIES

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Yandere!Shang Tsung - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - obsession

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - fuck buddies

[bomertheshark]

Riding

A Nanami Kento x top male reader

Short

You can’t quite remember how you got to this point. The very man who you had been chasing for ages now was now bouncing up and down your cock in pure bliss… what the hell happened?

You had an infatuation with a man named Kento Nanami, he had been working at your firm for some time now. You met him when he was a new guy since you were the assistant of the guy who had to show him the ropes. You thought he was a nice enough person, not too talkative but still not timid. The only real conversation you had was at a company dinner. You had been sitting across from each other and decided to strike up a conversation with him. Through out the entire night you both talked about this and that as he drank, you never drank much so you decided that tonight was not the night to try and hold your own. You learned a lot about him that night since his lips had gotten loose from the alcohol, and you suppose that’s when it all started. You spent months after that trying to get him to date you. You weren’t shy about it either, you came out and just confessed of course he thought you were joking but that didn’t matter to you, you never stopped flirting with him. You would talk to him everyday going out of your way to have lunch with him and other things to try and court him.

“Listen I think you should stay for dinner, I know it’s a cliche you know, stay for dinner cause it’s raining and I’ll confess my love to you that whole thing. But I just think it’ll be safer and we spent a long time on this project and I think we could use a break, plus you already know I like you and I’m one hell of a cook. And it’s not like this overtime or anything. ” You said moving around your kitchen to start preparing for the meal. “I suppose it’s fine, just don’t try to get me to stay any later than that.” He said as a response while going to sit down at the island.

After making the dish and serving it you sat across from him and ate in silence. “Is there anything you’d like to drink while we eat? I have wine, beer, champagne, water and some soft drinks.” You said after swallowing a bite of your food. “Some wine would be nice, preferably red.” He said in response “yeah I have some Saldo… does that work?” “That’s perfectly acceptable.” You poured the both of you some Saldo albeit you have yourself less just so that you could keep a clear mind in your own home.

Time had passed and you had finished one bottle of the Zinfandel. You cleared the plates and put them in the dishwasher. You were thankful you hadn’t had that much to drink as it seemed that your counterpart was having a hard time being clear headed. He had gotten up to help with the dishes but had ended up leaning on you and rubbing his face into your neck. To say this was embarrassing was an understatement, not only was your coworker probably drunk but he also happened to be the very man you had been attracted to for months.

“Okay Nanami I’m sure you don’t have a very clear mind right now so why don’t you sleep it off on my couch, I’ll make sure you’re on your way after you’ve sobered up.” You say to him trying to pull his arms off of you and start walking to the couch. He obviously didn’t like this idea as he whined a cling onto you tighter. Once you managed to get him on the couch you were turning to walk away and get the blanket that had fallen off in the process when he had grabbed you and you fell on top of him, he obviously enjoyed the position as he keened and started to wrap his arms around your head. This was a very compromising position for you, you could feel yourself start to get hard and flush. “Look Nanami we are coworkers and while yes I do really like you I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to do this when you are intoxicated.” You managed to get out of his grip as he whined and stood up. You have him the blanket and as soon as he got situated he fell asleep.

You finished the dishes and decided to go ahead and go to bed since Kento was already asleep for the night. You fell asleep pretty quick since you were exhausted from the work and trying to deal with Nanami.

You were having the strangest dream when you woke up to a weird feeling. It felt like someone was in your room, you looked at the clock to see it was 4 o’clock in the morning. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you looked around to see Nanami standing near your bed, in confusion and a bit of fear you asked “what are you doing in here Nanami? Did you want to go home now? I can get up and take you if you really want to leave.” He didn’t respond just getting closer to the bed. “Nanami..? Nanami you’re freaking me out a little I can’t see you that well.” At this point he was now at the foot of your bed, you couldn’t see his face but you knew it was him, why wasn’t he wearing any pants…? “Kento are you alright?” He got on your bed, starting to crawl towards you as you backed up. “Are you still drunk Kento? You’re freaking me out man talk to me.” He was now straddling you peering down at you, you had put your hands on his thighs to stabilize him, when he started to grind on you you knew something was weird.

All of that led to now. Where the man who you had been chasing for months was now on top of you riding you like his life depended on it. With every rock of his body he gasped at how deep you reached. This was your third round and it was already day break. The both of you were sweating and panting, the pleasure that coursed through your veins spurred you on and you continued letting him ride you as he used your chest to stabilize himself. The view was impeccable. You couldn’t believe that you were experiencing this with the very man who you wanted to spend all of your time with. All of it was perfect just like him.

You were really hoping that this meant he would finally take you seriously and let you indulge yourself in loving him with every fiber of your being. But for now you focus on the time you have with him and not the fact that today is a work day.

I really hope you guys like this 😭

I’m sorry it took so long to post!

P.S Saldo is my favorite red wine 🫶

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ YOU ALREADY HAVE A PIECE OF MY HEART (WHICH I HAVE NEVER GIVEN TO YOU) ❞

Gojo Satoru x male!reader | Nanami Kento x male!reader | Sukuna Ryomen x male!reader | Geto Suguru x male!reader | polycule (Satoru x r! x Suguru), polygamy (Satoru x r!, Satoru x Suguru, r! x Satoru, r! x Kento) | Heian Era!Sukuna Ryomen x Heian Era!male!reader | drabble of alternate universes | NOT PROOFREAD

warnings: burn scars, battle scars, grief, derealization, trauma (so much trauma), major character deaths (Satoru, Suguru, Tsumiki, Nanako, Mimiko, Principal Yaga, (Y/N)'s mom), Fushiguro Megumi angst, Junpei mentioned (surprisingly without angst), Itadori Yuji angst (minor), NSFW content for Sukuna's section, implied cannibalism

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

authors note: NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL! The formatting is a bit all over the place but these are straight-up taken from Discord chats I had with Elias, pls. I hope they're not too hard to understand. These are all basically "what ifs" and alternate universes + one section for Heian Period Ryomen Sukuna with a (L/N)'s ancestor! " " = means straight-up copy-pasted so I guess they kinda act as a foreword for each drabble

starting off with some HCs of (Y/N)’s high school years!

(Y/N) thinks Satoru must understand the pain of being the next head of the clan, get trained vigorously, and deal with aching bones and sores. Nope! Satoru’s never dealt with that much less dealt with (Y/N)’s father.

Shoko has a dark sense of humour so she laughs at his dark jokes but (Y/N) does notice the three of them end up pampering him more often.

Satoru buys him food most of the time. Drinks and snacks and ice cream, if (Y/N) gazes at something too long Satoru just tosses it into his cart.

Suguru tends to help him stretch or massage him. He’d even fix (Y/N)’s hair, almost motherly in his actions. He makes sure (Y/N) is presentable, makes sure he doesn’t have to worry because; “Su-Su will fix it~”.

Shoko makes sure (Y/N) is always wound-free. From buying antiseptics to burn relief gels (they all have a travel-sized bottle on their person to be fair). She buys him cigarettes when he needs them and always pokes him in his sides or the back of his head, she made it a habit to use RCT on him just in case he’s in pain but can’t feel it.

"You'd come back to me"

"What if Nanami Kento and (Y/N) survived the Shibuya arc?"

Kento stroked your bangs away and then pressed kisses with every compliment he gave. Your chuckles give him this feeling that if you ever told him "please" he'd give up everything just to hear it again. Kento lightly pushes you away but slips a hand underneath you, tugging his (Y/N) closer. “Kennnnnny."

Usually, Kento doesn’t enjoy nicknames but every time you say it, the world seems bright and sweet. So he noses at your jaw and relishes in the giggles.

“You’re beautiful,” he says with so much sincerity.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” Kento grins and presses a searing kiss to your lips.

You are both covered in scars. Nanami’s still pinkish and healing even with the help of socerery and yours still aching and bruised. But nothing about you could be wrong. Because that wasn’t possible. The ring on your hand is cool on his neck as you tilt his head to deepen the kiss. Kento turns and chuckles as you yelp, straddling him now.

“Kento!”

“Yes, my (Y/N)?”

Your eyes soften, and he kisses you again.

"The beach will be more cloudy. We can sit on the porch and I'll make you that milky tea again." He thinks it's a shame the two of you are stuck inside the house. It cannot be helped; his skin was far too sensitive for Malaysia's unapologetic sunny rays and dry heat and although you comfort him by saying your scars are still healing too, he wants nothing more than to pick you up and wash away all the remnants of Shibuya in seawater. "I can make it," he says. "Kento," you press your finger onto his lips, tracing it until you're cupping his face and stroking over his cheekbones. "Let me take care of you." Kento frowns and places his hand over yours, tracing the shape of your healing knuckles and raised scars. "Only if you'll let me do the same, my (Y/N)."

Kento who survived the Shibuya arc is left with a very sensitive wound all over the left side of his body. His hearing is unbalanced and his depth perception is fucked but (Y/N) helps him through all the transitions he goes through.

(Y/N) feels guilty for using his curse technique when it’d been fire that hurt Kento. Who doesn’t use it around Kento or if he does use it, he makes sure the smell is gone and washes his hands, and makes sure Kento can hold him without fear. But Kento doesn’t fear him! Kento figured it out and he just tells (Y/N); “My love, you never need to hide yourself from me…”

Yuji helps Kento with physical therapy. Kento grunts but allows Yuji to hug him when he regains consciousness. Kento who asks Yuji if he’d like to be his ringbearer during their wedding.

(Y/N) who is so nervous to meet Kento’s parents. He knows non-sorcerers and sorcerers don’t have many differences in their daily lives outside of exorcising curses but worries nonetheless. Kento’s mom is bright and jovial, and his father is even more so! (Y/N) is honestly taken aback by how soft-hearted they are and how they thank him for saving Kento. He finds himself loving them so much because they remind him of his mother and how gentle and kind she was.

When he asks for their blessing? He bows but is surprised when Kento’s father blocks his forehead from meeting the floor, blinking away tears when his mother holds his face.

“We’ll gladly take you in as your son, (Y/N),” and they all start crying because (Y/N) is crying, LMAO.

Kento tells (Y/N) he asked for his parent's blessing and he's confused because Kento should never do that - he doesn’t need to ask his father for his blessing but Kento simply says:

“I visited your mom’s grave. I asked for her blessing. I talked to her about how much I love you.”

At their wedding, there are empty seats in the crowd. Seats for their fallen comrades, their loved ones, seats for Tsumiki, Principal Yaga, Yū, Satoru, Suguru, (Y/N)'s mom… (blame Elias for this one)

In regards to (Y/N) seeing Geto Suguru's "body" as he descended into madness: Kento who spots him muttering to himself or staring into space. (Y/N), who after surviving the Shibuya arc, still sees Suguru and now Satoru as well. At times, he even sees Yū, Kento, Megumi, Tsumiki, Yuji, Nobara, Maki, or -His brain constantly makes it hard for him to decipher reality or fiction.

A HC based on Katniss and Peeta: (Y/N) asking Kento, “Real or not real?” when he can't tell reality from fiction.

“You’re alive, real or not real?” “Real.”

“Megumi is still breathing. Real or not real?” “Real, my love. He’s just healing. He’ll wake up soon.”

"...You love me, real or not real?" "Real, my love."

When Fushiguro Megumi wakes up:

When Megumi recovers he cries. Openly cries, sobs, and wails as he begs for forgiveness from everyone around him. (Y/N) literally rushed into the room which made Megumi flinch, yelling at him to stay away because he killed his father (Satoru), his sister, and everyone else Ryomen Sukuna had killed. But (Y/N) just holds him and holds him and holds him. Megumi finds it hard to piece his brain together after what Sukuna has done so Yuji helps. Yuji asks Kento for advice because Megumi and (Y/N) are lowkey in the same boat-ish.

Megumi who begs for forgiveness because Sukuna had done unspeakable things to (Y/N) just to make him his concubine and (Y/N) just comforts his son.

When Megumi is strong enough they go to Suguru and Satoru’s graves. There are no bodies but they buried the things that they treasured. Their wedding ring rests where Satoru would have along with Megumi and Tsumiki’s childhood drawings, pictures, and Suguru’s hairband and button. The flip phone was full of memories and high school photographs - his wedding picture too. He rests beside Geto Suguru, whose grave is filled with his daughter's belongings and the flip phone he kept too, the creased photograph of himself with Satoru, (Y/N) and Shoko. Tsumiki, Nanko and Mimiko are next to their fathers. Megumi cries as his knees give out, his only family left, his dad; (Y/N), just comforts him as much as he can. His precious boy, his beautiful son... They visit as often as they can, telling tales of their days, their weeks, and their months. Soon enough, it will be less painful for them to visit that hill. It'll be scenic and they'll no longer curse at the heavens for all this loss. They'll hate that they're no longer the same person their loved ones had seen, hate the wrinkles and the greying hair and the way they couldn't grow old together. Hate that they've been alive longer than them when they feel like they don't deserve to be. But one day it'll stop and they'll take it as a blessing to grow this old, knowing they'll see their family soon enough with so many stories to tell.

"And isn't it just so pretty to think? All along there was some invisible string, tying to you me?"

"You know - in every universe, Satoru falls in love with Suguru and (Y/N). In a few universes, their love is not tragic. In this special few, Satoru does not use (Y/N) for honor. Suguru comes back after his betrayal,l and (Y/N) and Kento defend his rights as a human. Satoru has (Y/N) help him with Suguru’s rehabilitation, and Kento helps Suguru with his clashing ideology. In the special few, Megumi is still beloved by YN but he doesn’t fear betrayal, and love just needs love to be perfect. Uncle (Y/N) cherishes Tsumiki and Megumi and Uncle Kento who teaches them how to be kind and responsible. Mimiko and Nanako learn how to befriend Tsumiki and Megumi!”

(Y/N) would've become a teacher like Satoru! Kento sends him to and from. He pouted so much when Kento knew Yuji was alive but forgave him. (Y/N) invited Yuji to eat homemade lunch and dinners in their home, and Yuji pretended not to feel himself tremble; a homemade meal was eaten around a dining table.

Yuji, who never had such an experience before; and who craves familial bonds; can’t stop shoveling food in his mouth because he keeps grinning too hard -

And when Junpei is brought back alive? (Y/N) takes to him like a moth to a flame. He volunteers to help Junpei, to house him, and bares his teeth at the higher-ups who dare take the boy from him.

Junpei wakes up to Kento cooking breakfast and (Y/N) who makes tea. Junpei gasps as (Y/N) opens up a movie and invites him to watch with him. Junpei relishes Kento’s words of advice for his newfound curse technique.

Junpei cries into the pillows and gets surprised when (Y/N) comforts him, telling him he misses his mother too, and lets (Y/N) hug him.

Junpei stares at himself in the mirror when Shoko heals his cigarette scars, brushing back his bangs confidently for the first time.

Junpei who bonds with Megumi about having shikigamis! Who Nobara (affectionately) bullies and toughens up! Maki is reminded of Yuta every time, and Inumaki chuckles at her face. Panda just loves being his senpai but keeps pushing Junpei away from him when Junpei tries to touch his fur -

Satoru and Suguru come over with Mimiko, Nanako, Tsumiki, and Megumi to their home. Yuji and Junpei picked out the movie (it’s obviously Human Earthworm - all 4 movies). The Gojo-Geto’s brought snacks and drinks, and the Nanami’s made their home so cozy and warm.

"Tell me you belong to me"

Heian Era Sukuna and the ancestor of the (L/N) clan, his only male concubine which he adored so much it caused his unending.

As a foreword (just a fan theory I adored not canon at all): "The theory that Sukuna keeps CTs within his Malovent Shrine (hence, in my fic, it’s why the (L/N) clan never flourished. Sukuna took their innate technique and left them with a CT so strong none of them had enough will-power to master). It’s not confirmed but in the Jogo fight, he says “open” and all of a sudden he can use a flame CT???" "This is basically an AU of (Y/N)'s ancestor, lmao."

They sacrificed (Y/N) to Ryomen Sukuna and gave him their prince who came to him with a sharp glare and dirtied with bruises and cuts.

“You wrap my gift so carelessly?” Sukuna drawls out.

(Y/N) is bound and gagged. His hair must have been in an impressed top knot, now a mess that spills from his shoulders.

Uruame shifts next to him and they grip (Y/N)'s cheeks to inspect him.

What a beautiful man, they think with mild surprise, it was no wonder he was chosen as a sacrifice.

But, Sukuna wants him. So, he adds his first male concubine to his harem. (Y/N) is scrubbed clean, dressed to the nines, and made to look like a doll. His face was painted, his hair brushed, his nails trimmed, and his skin moisturized.

Ryomen Sukuna is a monster with a picky tongue. Despite his greed, he only eats refined meats and fights the strongest sorcerers.

Sukuna doesn’t “love” his concubine but he favors him. That much, (Y/N) can tell. When he plays the biwa or recites sutras and haikus, Sukuna is ever so attentive. When (Y/N) bows and sits next to Lord Sukuna to feed him his meals, he finds those big hands holding him in one way or another.

When he takes (Y/N) as a “woman”, he is not gentle. Uruame is the one to prepare him. They provided him with oils and aromatic smoke to ease him, not out of the kindness of their hearts but for their Lord’s pleasure. (Y/N) swears he nearly rips taking his size but Sukuna spreads his legs and pushes in deeper and (Y/N) gasps, his tears like diamonds as he pleads for his Lord to grant him mercy.

Sukuna does. It surprises himself. But he does.

Maybe Sukuna will never understand the word love because he tells himself he’s never loved. Or maybe, he confuses it with ownership and cruelty - because it’s obvious he loves (Y/N).

He’s unfair to all but him.

He is still the King of Curses, a cruel tyrant, but (Y/N) is someone who calms his wrath with ease.

When they made that Binding Vow for (Y/N)'s curse technique to be given to Sukuna in exchange for Sukuna not being able to kill off his clan. He had thought to give YN another curse technique. But then, after (Y/N) learns Sukuna murdered a huge chunk of his clan, (Y/N) plans for his betrayal.

(Y/N) seeing the shock on Sukuna’s face as he gets sealed away, feeling the God's disdain weigh on his bones as he breaks the Binding Vow - he weeps for Sukuna despite knowing how horrible he is.

(Y/N) marries and his bloodline continues on, but there’s this terrible desire to be loved. It persists in every one of them. This ache that the King of Curses had left. This magnetism that power holds over the (L/N) clan.

In another universe, where (Y/N) finds no love in Satoru nor Kento, but Sukuna?

How delighted would the King of Curses be to see his concubine so willing for him? The King of Curses would have a harem of women. But the one man? Oh, he’s beloved. His room is closest to Sukuna’s, his appetite always filled and his bookshelves overflowing. Uruame enjoys his presence, tending to him personally and making him food as well.

(Y/N) who takes a liking to human flesh. Who finds himself ignoring the screams of tortured men and women, and only curls his nose in distaste when Sukuna wants to consume “soft” flesh.

Who grins so serenely in his King’s lap, who can’t decide which mouth he prefers on him or which hand is his favourite. Sukuna loves to be fed by (Y/N) and does the same to him.

Who learns how to please Sukuna’s cocks all by himself. Who has servants prep him open only to be killed right after - but what a privilege they had, to have Sukuna’s concubine mewl around their fingers.

Sukuna loves watching him ride, loves seeing the bulge in his stomach, the twinge of pain on his face. He loves sticking his tongue out (the one on his stomach) to lick at (Y/N)’s cock and (Y/N) yelps every time.

At times, you’ll find his precious concubine so stunning after a night of pleasure you’d stare. Each time, Uruame is there to gauge their eyes out.

Their master's toy is his alone after all.

"What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes"

polycule of satosugu x yn!

Satoru thinks he’s selfish. He knows that marrying (Y/N) fulfills duty and honour but in doing so it would be cruel for the boy. On the other hand, marrying Suguru was completely out of the realm of possibilities no matter how hard he insists.

His personal feelings about them both confuse him too.

Satoru loves Suguru. Satoru loves (Y/N).

You could imagine the relief 16-year-old Gojo Satoru felt when (Y/N) blushed at Suguru’s soft-spoken voice or when Suguru caught himself staring at (Y/N)’s lips for too long in a conversation.

In this AU - Satoru never dated Suguru, he instead gathered the two of you and just announced his feelings.

It was choppy waters to navigate through, among the political aspects of a marriage and teenage emotions and deadly missions.

But the three of you made it work. This relationship was among three men who fulfilled honour, duty, and love. Who only needed each other to feel filled.

A polyamorous marriage wasn’t taboo, it was just outdated, still with Gojo Satoru and Gojo (Y/N) both insisting that Geto Suguru would be their husband after Satoru became the head of the Gojo clan. It wasn’t as though they could be refused now.

In this AU, Suguru would not betray his husbands though not without thinking of it. He simply tightened his hold on the rings before he brought the twins back home and his heart softened as he saw them tend to the girls.

What a rowdy household. The children are so loved that they cannot fathom love doesn’t exist.

Satoru who will sigh and embrace his husbands out of the blue.

“You’re beautiful,” he’ll tell (Y/N) as he cups his face while the poor man is simply reading some document at the dining table. “Our husband is beautiful, Suguru!”

Suguru immediately gets drowsy whenever your fingers thread through his hair, and chuckles when you trace his features as he’s about to wake.

Gods, seeing you and Satoru hold onto your children’s hands as all of you walk together in a park makes thoughts of those dark summers dissipate into nothing.

Satoru sleeps in the center of your California king-sized bed. He simply refuses any other spot.

The Tokyo School has its hands full of the Gojo’s. From the husbands to their 3 children with rambunctious abilities.

When Tsumiki got cursed...it was an emotional day for everyone. Suguru swore he’d do anything to break it while Nanako and Mimiko yelled and yelled, Megumi just sobbing into your chest.

The girls visit her often, talking to her as they fix her hair and ensure she’s comfortable. Megumi appreciates their care as he silently stares from the corner.

Oh, breakfasts are always bustling.

The children are spoiled just as much as Satoru’s husbands are.

What a terrifying trio you are - abilities powerful beyond the curve!

Shoko always takes a few shots before heading over to celebrate holiday dinners, lmao.

She understands that you three enjoy asking about her love life though all three of you were made to kneel in apology as she glared after Satoru and you “accidentally” found the woman she’d been seeing.

Suguru rolls his eyes every time Satoru and you stroke the dragon spirit's snout or compliment the spear-wielding spirit.

While they bring burn-relief medication for you, Satoru and you ensure to bring snacks to wash away the foul taste of curses for Suguru and Suguru and you always have extra blindfolds and painkillers for Satoru.

Yuta grew flustered as he found out the three of you were together. He had honestly thought Suguru was cheating on Satoru with you but Maki’s scoff of “disgust” and her brief explanation made his face bloom into fifty shades of red.

Yuji would honestly not care - he’d be surprised at first but bounce back rather quickly (although Ryomen Sukuna would certainly have his comments).

ANGST TIME!

The Shibuya arc would be very different of course, though wouldn’t it just be delightful if Kenjaku managed to grab (Y/N) and force his husband to see Ryomen Sukuna not only take over their son’s body but see their husband get claimed by another?

Delicious angst, me thinks.

"But I just wanna stop right next to you, if I could my dream? I just wanna stop right next to you."

polygamous marriage (?) of Satosugu and kentoYN!

In this AU, (Y/N) and Satoru would feel so guilty for letting their eyes wander to their significant future husbands.

It’s not as though they don’t love each other but there’s this societal norm of monogamy and despite never getting physical with Suguru/Kento the emotional aspect still makes them feel like they’re doing something dirty.

It wasn’t fair to anyone.

Shoko dryly mumbling about polygamy had Satoru and you instantly perking up.

You loved Suguru and Satoru liked Kento - but neither of them wanted to be in a relationship with each other. So this arrangement of Satoru’s boyfriend and (Y/N)’s boyfriend honestly worked. It was confusing at first but it worked.

When Satoru married Suguru and you married Kento, it was a joyous event. A double wedding!

A rowdy household once again, Satoru insisted on living on the same land just with multiple “sections”. Even if this was a polycule, I’d imagine solitude from one another is still appreciated after all. The house was built from the ground up and it was a labour of love to ensure all four of you (and your kids) would have their own slice of heaven.

Kento adores you, the rings on your fingers, and the home you share.

Satoru adores you as well, never once making you feel as though this is a competition.

Both Satoru and you are fair to each other and your respective husbands. Never favouring the other or anything that would make them feel like a “glorified side chick.”

The kids aren’t confused at all.

Although they did have to adjust to call which father what.

They settled with Dad (you), Papa (Suguru), Pa (Kento), and Father (Satoru - only to annoy him.) Sometimes the four of you will have to play it by ear since they just use “daddd!” interchangeably.

Shoko still takes shots before she heads over to go to holiday dinners.

The students are also not confused. Yuta got a bit flustered but Suguru just informed him about it and Yuta felt less anxious - he genuinely thought Satoru was cheating on (Y/N) when he walked in on Satoru and Suguru making out in an empty classroom.

You’d honestly just giggle at Yuta’s face when he told you this which made him more confused while Suguru gave him the mercy to pat his head.

Yuji would think it’d be so cool that such a dynamic worked.

Nanako and Mimiko as Tokyo High students make my heart soar - Megumi has his older sisters tease him relentlessly whenever their schedules overlap (they always do).

[specialgrades]

Not really a request but what are your headcanons on the JJK men's dick sizes?

OHOHO cracks knuckles i can do that. going full in like nanami should be in me rn dick-scriptions time

characters: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, toji fushiguro, sukuna, choso, atsuya kusakabe

GOJO SATORU : a bit above average, a good 6.5 ~ 7in. slight curve upwards. a good 2.5 ~ 3.5in thick. pretty pink flush on the tip, shaft a few shades darker than his skin tone. cut. carpets match the drapes of course, he keeps it trimmed. fun trail tell me i'm wrong (i'm not). super sensitive vein on the underside. sensitive thighs too. grower.

GETO SUGURU : honestly, average cock size. he rounds up to five inches but we all know it's 4 3/4. two inches thick. like gojo, a nice pink flush and a few shades darker. no curve. for sure has a piercing, prince albert probably; silver jewelry. uncut. not a jungle, mildly maintained. sensitive head, especially with the piercing. shower.

NANAMi KENTO : nothing overwhelming, though still impressive. 7.5in long, 3in thick. cut, duel toned because of it. top half is more pink than the rest. short trim. curve to the left. right under the head is the key, he'll bite back a really embarrassing noise if you focus there. grower.

TOJi FUSHiGURO : i pray for y'all toji simps for real, cause fuck. 8.5in easy. 4 inches thick minimum. man built like a tripod. uncut, darker with red undertones. upwards curve. jacob's ladder. three of 'em. this man doesn't shower i'm so sorry. two prominent veins when you pull back the foreskin, sensitive but he'll never show it. shower.

SUKUNA : i pray for y'all as well. find a pringles can. it's bigger. ten inches long, four inches thick. curves upwards and a tad to the right. cut, pale so it gets a nice flush. his tattoos make an appearance, wrapping around the shaft a few times. grower thank god.

CHOSO : average length, 5.5in but thick. four inches. curve to the right, uncut. darker than his skin tone by around four shades. not super trimmed, a delicious fun trail leading to a mild bush. mildly sensitive head, though go for his navel and you'll get a lovely show of him getting all breathy and twitching. shower.

ATSUYA KUSAKABE : i've only just met this man but i want him. carnally. so... six inches in length and 2.5 in width. cut, duel toned though you can't really tell until he's flushed and the top half goes a pretty dark pink. like choso, tasteful amount of hair with the fun trail. one prominent vein that's sensitive, under the head too. grower.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Heyy!! I love your blog and writing sm!!! I was wonderomg if you'd write somethjng with top/dom reader where the reader gets godly aftercare as well.. we need to normalize giving doms aftercare!! and your writing is my greatest comfort, finally someone writes for other than petite fem readers <333

Nanami Kento x male reader

Headcanons

You never specified which character you wanted me to write for, so I just picked one I felt would give amazing aftercare. Also cuz I don’t think many people realize I write for jjk.

Sorry ive been gone for a bit, but to no one’s surprise, classes are exhausting.

There are different kinds of aftercare, so it all really depends on what kind of dynamic you and Nanami have, and what you are in need of after. Nanami being as aware and loving as he is, would have an easy time figuring out what you need.

There might be times where all you need afterwards if to be held or to hold him, to know that he’s there and that Nanami still loves you and that he liked it very much. He is also the kind of person to have set up the different snacks or drinks you could need afterwards.

Knowing Nanami, he would probably even have some kind of small fridge to keep the drinks in, if it’s a cold drink you need to help center yourself after a rougher scene. If it’s a hot drink you need, he would make sure you were alright before going to get it.

Nanami is an efficient man, so it wouldn’t take long before he’s back again, your favorite mug in one hand, and the latest book he has been reading. Sometimes its enough to just sit together as he reads and you sip on whatever drink it is you need, and other times you need to just be held. Luckily for you, Nanami is a big guy, so that can also be done with no issue.

If its been a rougher scene and you need more than just some cuddles and a snack, Nanami would also be very on top of that. There is no way he would let the love of his life feel inadequate or gross about yourself.

There might be times where you think you are a horrible person because of the scenes you two do, or because of how rough you were, which could result in you pulling away or even having dom drop. But Nanami won’t let you sink too far, always pulling you back out of that dark pit before it gets to swallow you whole.

If you needed to cry, there would be no judgement from your lover, and if you just need to be alone, he would let you do that too. But hes gonna be setting up a nice shower or bath for when you are feeling better again.

Nanami has also always been a very honest guy, and believes strongly in communication in a relationship. So if what you needed was verbal reassurance, or to know how he felt, what you did right and what you did wrong, he would give it to you.

Communication wouldn’t just be for you though, since he himself also enjoys talking it over, to make sure you guys are both on the same wavelength and enjoyed it an equal amount. Sometimes talking about it in a more strategic manner could help center you both, and stop any spiraling thoughts or feelings.

It also wouldn’t be beneath Nanami to want to give you a rubdown if you were feeling a bit sore and exhausted. Sometimes its as much for him as it is for you, since it gives him a sense of peace to know that you are there, and that you are comfortable.

He probably has a whole routine he goes through if you are feeling too drained to move, or if you are feeling under the weather. Like wiping you both down before you get into the bath together, where Nanami would lovingly wash your hair and then his own. This is also where he would make sure you both are fine physically, just in case.

Nanami would get out of the bath first, letting you just vege out for a bit, as he goes to clean up the bedroom and get some new sheets and pillows on the bed, and getting out some clean sleep wear for you both.

You may have been the dom/top, but that doesn’t stop Nanami from taking care of you, as its something he loves to do on any day of the week, and if you need it after you guys have spent the night together you won’t hear any complaints.

After getting everything ready, Nanami would go back to help you out of the water, dry you off, and get you into the clothes you are comfortable in, before you two shuffle back to your room. And of course, he’s put the good sheets on the bed.

You’ll get a nice soft blush from him if you compliment him and thank him for all his hard work. He loves taking care of you the most, but that doesn’t mean Nanami doesn’t enjoy being praised and loved on by you too.

All in all, Nanami would know multiple ways to do aftercare, and is perspective enough to figure out what you need before you do. He would also never judge you for any kind of care you might need, as making you comfortable and happy always makes his heart flutter.

[hoshikarasu]

ROMANCE IS BORING.ㅤ⸺͏͏ㅤJJK MEN & M!READER

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀featuring :   choso , nanami kento , higuruma hiromi , getou suguru

❛❛ ⠀Am I ready for love? Or maybe just a best friend? Should there be a difference, do you have instructions? ⠀❜❜ ⠀or ⠀being in a queer platonic relationship with jjk men !

❛ ⠀♡ . ˑ⠀notes  :   male reader. either the reader / jjk men, or both, can be seen as arospec. queer platonic relationships are just as important and equal to romantic relationships! all qprs are different from each other and are all valid. not proofread. divider by cafekitsune.

⟣   CHOSO   ⏖   ♡   !   ㅤㅤIt was a struggle to put his feelings into words when it came to you. Nothing that he could possibly weave together ever grew close to accurately describing his emotions and how he viewed the relationship between you and him. You are important to him. Of course you are. Just as much as Yuuji is important to him. Except… he didn’t view you the way that he did with his brothers. Those feelings didn’t push him to see you as more than that at the same time.

All that he knew for certain was that he adores you and you adore him. The way you look at him with smiles has his heart grow in multiple sizes. A label wasn’t necessary to place on you for him to know that he cared deeply for you. That he would do all that he possibly could to ensure your happiness and safety.

There’s not a doubt in his mind that you share this sentiment. He senses it in the way you reach for his hand to hold and squeeze tightly as if you plan on never letting go. The way you nudge him to open up his arms for you to give him a hug the second you notice anything off before he even realizes it.

You openly express your affection for him that his heart squeezes far too many times to the point that he wonders whether he should visit a doctor. 

It makes him pause whenever you two are asked if you’re dating. He never knows what to say. The love is mutual between you two for sure, but that doesn’t mean you’re both in love with one another. 

Yet he knows saying such a thing would garner strange looks or comments how you’re both confused or shouldn’t be using the word love to describe such a dynamic if it isn’t a romantic relationship. But he sees nothing wrong with using the word when it comes to you. 

He loves you. He loves you so much and will gladly let the world know it even if nobody else aside from you would understand.

⟣   NANAMI KENTO   ⏖   ♡   !   ㅤㅤMany people (read: one particular Gojo Satoru) joked or assumed that you and Nanami were together. There wasn’t a day that went by without someone making a comment about the two of you. You were always seen together doing just about anything and everything. All of Nanami’s spare time was dedicated to you, and you fussed over him like a concerned boyfriend. Why weren’t you two together? 

The pestering always annoyed him. This insistence that a relationship between two people had to be one way or the other. Or that people were that invested over somebody else’s relationship. What did it matter to them? 

All he wanted was to exist. With you specifically. 

Whenever a mission would get too rough, his mind would drift to his thoughts of retiring and running away to Malaysia. In each and every single one of them, you were there right by his side. He yearned for solitude so deeply, but for a solitude that included you as well. 

Where there would be no prying eyes to how the two of you interacted with one another. Nobody would make any jabs at both of you guys’ indifference to ever developing a romantic relationship with one another. No judgment would be made, not that he paid any attention to how people may perceive the nature of your relationship and interactions with each other, on the love shared between you two.

It’s very easy to imagine taking a stroll on the shore of the beach and having you hand in hand.

The next time that Gojo cracks a joke upon catching the two of you visiting Nanami’s favorite bakery, hands full of his favorite bread and your favorite pastries, and linked arms, Nanami is ready with a response. He waits to hear the familiar question of whether you two are together to answer with a simple, 

“I’ve always been his.”

⟣   HIGURUMA HIROMI   ⏖   ♡   !   ㅤㅤNot once has Higuruma ever considered that he would find himself in a relationship quite like the one he has with you. Granted, the possibility of having any sort of close and intimate relationship with anyone always came across as impossible. There wasn’t time for him to spare for anyone else. He was too caught up with his own work and wrangled up in his passion for justice. At least that was the case until he met you.

Your presence in his life has redefined many things for him. A new passion in him sprouts and blossoms with every passing second that he spends with you. One that is devoted to you and only you, and it grows at the mere sight or thought of you.

Nobody else understands him the way that you do. 

Each time he is weighed down by a trial that has led to an unjust verdict for his client and he catches a glimpse of their expression, you are the one who seeks for comfort. You very easily understand what he needs without any need for words. Despite being a rather tall man, he succumbs to making himself so small while being gathered into your arms. 

It’s easy to sense how all he wishes for is the comfort and warmth you never fail to provide him. His soul feels intertwined with yours and his heart wants to be held with those gentle hands of yours. Said gentle hands that always seek out to cup his face and gently him closer to look at you directly. 

Without fail, you whisper to him sweet reassurances and nothings. You are always determined to make him feel loved and cared for. And as he gets lost in staring into the warmth of your gaze, being placed looked at with such a loving stare, there’s only one thought that lingers in his mind.

I’m lucky to have you.

⟣   GETOU SUGURU   ⏖   ♡   !   ㅤㅤIt’s rather funny to Getou how Nanako and Mimiko can fully understand the intricate bond between you and him compared to other grown adults. Plenty of people assume that you are together or married. Nanako and Mimiko’s habit of referring to you as their other dad most likely plays a factor into that. 

Or maybe it’s also due to the fact that he never fails to lean close and kiss your nose or your cheek or wherever he can reach. It could also be the fact that you openly address him as your other half, your husband, and other sweet terms of endearment that has his heart skip a few beats.

Anyone who dares to assume that something romantic is going on between you and Getou are quick to receive odd looks from you, Getou, and your girls. Then again, he supposes he can’t expect that for anyone outside this little family of yours to fully know how strong this bond is that it goes beyond their comprehension of love and relationships.

Both of you are fairly affectionate with each other, whether you’re out in public or alone in the privacy of your home. As mentioned earlier, he presses a kiss to any inch of your skin he has access to and pairs it with a reminder of his love for you. And you slot yourself into his side with ease like you belong there (which you do). Your head gets tucked under his chin and it doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall asleep together. 

There’s nothing to hide from you. You know full well his heart is for yours to hold and that your heart is kept safe in his.

Thinking about the future used to be grim, but knowing that you will be there every day in his future with the girls brings him comfort.

[domain-expand-me]

Imagine

Being Nanami's office superior and taking blame for his mistakes, so he thanks you.

Imagine meeting Nanami when he had left the sorcerer world, when he was trying to gain a normal job and be a normal person. You've worked at the company for a few years before he showed up, and you were ordered to get him up to speed.

Imagine being kinda charmed by his down to business personality, and how much he hated overtime. But he would always stay back with you when you did overtime. At first you thought it was because he wanted to get on the boss's good graces, but then you caught him staring just a few too many times, and things started making sense.

Imagine how you'd start giving him hints, lingering touches or standing just a bit too close. Imagine standing in a full elevator, your back pressed against his front, rubbing your ass against his growing erection. But before anything more could happen, the elevator opens and people step out, you winking over your shoulder as Nanami is left there blushing.

Imagine one day he has messed up his reports enough that the boss is fuming, but instead of letting him take it out on Nanami, you take the blame. Later that night when you stay at the office to work on the report, Nanami shows up, wanting to thank you and help you out.

You give him a tired smile, and being sleep deprived your mouth doesn't follow your Brain. Before you know it, you've told him the only thing that could help would be some head, in a joking manner. But to your surprise, Nanami drops to his knees and shimmies down under your desk, large hands easily undoing your belt and sliding it down.

If you have a pussy, he shucks your legs up enough to get his tongue nice and deep within you, switching between paying attention to your cunt before moving to type clit. Your back arches as you gasp, digging your fingers into his blonde hair as he feasts upon you, giving it his all as if it's his lifes only purpose.

If you have a dick, he'd worship the base and length first, tracing veins with his tongue before finally taking it into his mouth. He pushes past his gag reflex, swallowing you down and gagging on you, but he slurps up his drool and spittle, jerking what he can't fit in his mouth as he massages your balls with his other hand.

With a hand in his hair, you somehow get back to work, though very lackluster as his mouth feels so good on you, working you close to the edge before Nanami pulls back. He lets you calm down from the edge before he's on you again, wanting to draw it out.

It stays like this until you've finished the report, when Nanami finally gives it his all, using his mouth and hands to make you come, coating his tongue in your fluids as he gulps it down, his hair a complete mess from all your pulling, and eyes glassy in the best way.

Imagine how after he licks or sucks you through the orgasm, he pulls off with a wet slick noise and shuffles to his feet. His bulge is large and noticeable, but before he can shuffle away you push him to sit on your desk, rolling your desk chair to sit between his legs.

Imagine how he shudders when you go to return the favour, undoing his belt with quick hands and working them down his thighs. Nanami clamps a hand over his mouth to keep his noises down as you free him from the confinements of his pants, ready to make him see stars.

[yanderestarangel]

SMUT BAKERY EVENT | BY: @yanderestarangel

🍰✧⁠*The doors of the dark smut confectionery are open! At this event there will be three sweets with various sexual fantasies and smut dark plots, choose a sweet and enjoy.

💕 AT STARANGEL BAKERY YOU CAN FIND : size kink, daddykink, non con, dub con, breeding kink, threesomes, punishment, yandere themes, dark romance, hard smut, and much more, choose your topping for your favorite sweet.

💌 𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓹 𝓸𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: 03/28/2024

DAY 1 : 【 SUNDAE 】 — forced feminization, record sex, headcanons. ˖⁺ ⊹୨ "stepfather + stepson" ୧⊹ ⁺˖

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ character: nanami kento

✎ SYNOPSIS : HE WAS SO OBSESSED WITH YOU THAT HE BECAME YOUR STEPFATHER TO HAVE YOU CLOSE TO HIM.

DAY 2: 【 CUPCAKES 】 — possessive sex, super stimulation, breed!kink, dub con. ˖⁺ ⊹୨ "hard!dom boss + sub! housekeeper." ୧⊹ ⁺˖

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ character: miguel o'hara

✎ SYNOPSIS : YOUR BOSS TOOK TOO MUCH CARE OF YOU.

DAY 3: 【 CINNAMON CAKE 】 — gang bang, degradation, praise, kidnapping, non con, headcanons. ˖⁺ ⊹୨ "yandere brothers + defenseless darling."୧⊹ ⁺˖

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ characters: bi han + kuai liang + tomas vrbada

✎ SYNOPSIS : THEY DIDN'T WANT TO SHARE YOU.

[mr-bas00nist]

I’ve got a request my dear! Can you please do bottom Nanami who just had rough day and finally gets the chance to relax and be a pillow princess.

Love you dear!

Good Boys Deserve Good Things

𓇼 🌊 🐚 -Nanami Kento x Dom! Male Reader

𓇼 🌊 🐚-Cw: Overstimulation, dacryphilia, praise, Some sir and daddy kink, like one spank and manhandling (readers a strong boy 💪🏽)

It really didn’t take anyone special to tell how hard Nanami Kento worked. From a busy salaryman who hated his job to a sorcerer who still couldn’t stand the business, just had less of a hatred towards it. That was life though, grinding through shit you hate. It was worth it he believed, eventually retiring to Malaysia with his sweetheart was worth any challenge.

It would be awhile until that point though. For now he was a slave to the workforce. Nanami was returning back from home after a long day as usual. He looked over to see the kitchen was clean and some delicious looking cuisine in a container. Must’ve been your cooking.

He kicked off his dress goes and took his suit coat off before trudging upstairs. A few annoying comments from Gojo always got him exhausted and annoyed. He entered the room to see you relaxing on the bed lazily scrolling through you’re phone. You glanced up to see your husband with an annoyed expression on his face.

You couldn’t help but smile at his annoyed and flustered look. You could tell he was aggravated, not at you of course. “Hey there handsome, work got you down?” You smiled teasingly. Nanami Kento was no submissive man by any standards. A wise and reserved man which could be seen by anyone. Though, sometimes a man needed a break.

He got on his knees crawling over to your side of the bed as your large hand cupped his cheek. “Please sir….” He pleaded. The alias rolling off his tongue sounding like sweet honey in your ears. “Please what handsome?” You inquired with a knowing eyebrow.

“Please, fuck me…” He spoke softly, cheeks flushed with a pretty pastel dusted across them. You couldn’t help the mean grin that graced your lips. “Was that so hard baby? So hard asking you’re husband to make you forget about every little thing?” He shook his head no.

~🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

“Shit! You’re squeezing me so much handsome..” You lick your lips panting as you gripped his hips from the back pulling him into you. Kento had his face buried in the pillow as he moaned and cried. Pretty hazel eyes red from crying so much.

“S’ too much- can’t take it! Can’t take it! Mercy~!” You smiled softly at his pleas giving a small slap to his plump ass. “Shhh, know you can take it… because you’re a good boy right? Good boys deserve good things right?♡” You didn’t really expect an answer but you were pleased when you heard a whine. “Yes- I deserve this…”

You nodded in agreement. “You do, so stop thinking and let me take care of you okay baby?” You cooed softly at him as you gripped his sweaty locks. You gently ran you’re fingers through them before tugging to get him to arch. His face was pulled off the pillow leaving his mouth open to let the groans and moans escape.

He had no idea how many times he’d cum already. All he knew is that he’d been manipulated into position after position by you. Pretty head blank from everything except you’re dick in his ass abusing his prostate with each Plap! Plap! Plap! You gave so graciously to him.

You felt the telltale signs of his impending orgasm as he constricted tighter around you. You lifted you’re leg to plant beside his torso and adjusted you’re hands to his broad and muscular shoulders to pull him back into you. You leaned your weight over him making your dick hit even deeper from the forced arch. You smiled softly as you heard him cry out, hands reaching up to the drool covered, sweaty pillow to try and pull himself away from the burning pleasure.

“Nope, don’t run away from this dick baby…” You grinned as you pulled him right back to you’re pelvis. “Shhhh, shhhh, let daddy hear you scream for him m’kay???” You asked, but he knew it was a demand. The coil in his stomach stretched to its limits, face dripping with sweat, toes curling and eyes rolling back.

He peered up at you from wet lashes, a pleading look on his face. You smiled at his manners. “You know you don’t have to ask to cum…. Nut on daddy’s cock…” you gave a final sturdy thrust and his orgasm came crashing down like a wave on the coast. He gave a final drawn out groan mixed with a gasp as thick, ivory rivulets spilled from his shaft.

You came just in time with him as you filled him to the brim with your own release. You sighed in relief as you rubbed small shapes in his hips to ground him. After a few moments he felt you pull out and quickly flip him over before climbing back atop. You lined yourself up once more with his entrance as he let out a whimper from feeling you invade once more.

“You’re still coherent prince… can’t have that can we…? My sweet pillow prince needs to have his pretty head drained isn’t that right?” You asked with a slight mocking tone as he nodded. His legs raised as he wrapped them around your torso, burying his tear soaked face into your shoulder. You smiled brushing a small start tear from his cheek.

You kissed his temple before gently thrusting. “Just a little more for me baby… just let go of all those inhibitions hmmm?” You asked in sickly sweet tone. And who was he to deny or say no when you asked like that?

A/N: It is so nice to be back and writing for JJK! Thanks so much for the request Jason, I missed all you sm! Things have just been busy. Anyways, keep requesting! Im on a writing kick. :)

[chosokamolvr]

pathetic little curse user

nanami kento x male reader

- nsfw under the cut

[name] was running for his life. he was running down the empty streets around the shibuya train station to save his life. but alas, his efforts were in vain.

a tall, blonde, yellow and black speckled tie wearing sorcerer was chasing after [name]. mahito had mentioned a sorcerer of a similar, or even the same description, but [name] never thought he'd see the day where he'd finally get caught by a sorcerer.

[name]'s legs kept dragging him along, going through different corners and short cuts along the way. then, [name] was trapped. he ran into a desolate alleyway with no way out. oh how he was fucked now. he didn't want to die this way, not to a stupid sorcerer he didn't even get to see the face of.

the sorcerer finally reached the alleyway, panting slightly as he looked straight into [name]'s eyes with a glare. [name] was panicking, he was shaking and his heart was thumping out of his chest. he hadn't lived long enough to die now! he didn't want to die by the hands of a handsome, tall, muscular sorcerer now did he?

"you." the sorcerer stated, walking closer to [name] before he held the poor man up by his hair. [name] was already squirming whilst the sorcerer hadn't even finished what he was going to say. "what did you do with gojo satoru?" the sorcerer continues, still holding [name] up by the hair.

[name] whimpered and he tossed his body around, wanting to be let down. yet, this sorcerer was too strong, far stronger than [name] or any other puny sorcerer the curse user had faced. "i.. i don't know! i wasn't in on it! i was just hired to distract other sorcerers! let me go, please!" [name] whined, not meeting the sorcerer's eyes.

the blonde man scoffed and he threw [name] against one of the walls of the alleyway. "maybe this will make you talk, or it won't." he said before unbuckling his belt and pulling his trousers down. the sorcerer creeped closer, as he pulled his boxers down revealing his hardening dick.

[name] looked at the sorcerer with a gulp. he couldn't believe this was happening to him right now. [name] was getting hard, and to a sorcerer at that. how pathetic. "what.. what are you going to do to me?" the curse user asked, but he already knew what this sorcerer was going to do.

"you'll just have to wait and see, won't you?" he chuckled before he pushed [name] fully against the wall. [name]'s face was now pressed up against the brick, feeling weird and rough on his cheeks. "the name's nanami, by the way. nanami kento. i guess you'll want to know the name of who's gonna fuck you, don't you?" nanami says before pulling [name]'s trousers and boxers down, pressing his hard-on against [name]'s ass.

all [name] can do is gulp and stand back to recieve what nanami is about to give him. he closes his eyes and he takes a deep breath in. [name] knows nanami is probably not going to prep him or anything. why would you prep the enemy's ass for your dick anyway?

then, nanami pushes into [name]. first it's the tip, then he immediately slams in his whole length causing [name] to hiss out in pain. it burnt, but [name] knew nanami wasn't going to care.

nanami then kept a grip on [name]'s hair as he started thrusting slowly, trying to aggravate the curse user he was inside of. "shit. you're so tight, i feel like i can barely move my dick." the blonde chuckles, but in reality he loved how tight [name] was. "you're as tight as a virgin. have you never had sex? or have you just never been fucked by a man before?" [name] whines at nanami's questions, his body pressed against the wall as nanami thrusted. he didn't know how to respond, the dick inside of him was making his brain switch off.

as nanami thrusted, [name]'s dick was pressing and rubbing against the harsh texture of the wall infront of him. as painful as it was, [name] was in a state of pleasure. all of the pain he felt dissipated and turned into pleasure.

"ah- faster.. please nanami.." [name] blabbered and slobbered out onto the wall. nanami huffed and he took [name]'s arms, tying them up behind his back before thrusting faster, as per the curse user's request. "it's sir to you." nanami scoffs.

[name] didn't realise what had just happened. he was too late in the pleasure. once nanami slammed into him faster and deeper, [name] yelped out, coming back to his senses again. he tried to move his arms only for them to be bounded by nanami's yellow and black speckled tie.. the tie mahito had described before.

"mm.. sir.. please.." [name] whined, although he didn't know what he was whining for himself. nanami just chuckled and he continued thrusting at a decently fast pace that was also rough on [name]'s behind.

"you're pathetic, you know that?" nanami grunts inbetween thrusts, hand still firmly gripped in [name]'s hair. "you're letting a sorcerer, your enemy, fuck you and you're enjoying this too." the blonde chuckles, but he truly had a soft spot for pathetic idiots like [name]. "can you imagine what the people who hired you would say if they saw you like this? what's his name.. mahito, right? how do you think he'd react." nanami huffs.

[name] just mewls. he can't say anything as he's lost in the pleasure and ecstasy, he's practically drowning in lust. his back arches and his eyes roll back as he feels nanami go deeper. it just feels so good, too good to be the enemy's dick.

nanami smirks as he sees [name]'s reaction. the fact that [name] is too pathetic to respond and too built up due to a few minutes of sex is so thrilling to nanami. "answer my question from before." nanami states, gripping [name]'s hair harder to get him to speak. "what have you and your little friends done with gojo satoru?" nanami repeats his question from earlier. [name] responds by drooling on the wall even more. he's probably forgotten why gojo is, and truth be told he didn't have to do with gojo's sealing in the first place. nanami's dick was so good it made [name] forget about everything.

then, [name]'s vision went went and he cummed all over the wall. white painted and stained the brick, leaving nanami disgusted. "who said you could cum, you pathetic curse user? i certainly didn't." nanami grunted, clearly annoyed by [name]'s actions. "guess we'll keep going until i think we're finished. you wouldn't mind that, right?"

[name] shook his head, or, he tried to. his head was still against the wall, leaving a few scratches and marks and his hair was still in nanami's hand. "no sir.. we can keep going.." [name] squeaked out, his thighs trembling slightly as he had just came and by the fact that nanami was still thrusting into him.

"good." is all nanami responded with. he went far more deeper and rougher than before, the tip of his dick reaching [name]'s prostate again and again leading [name] to cum several more times over the wall.

once nanami was finished, he cleaned himself up and left [name] panting heavily on the floor of the alleyway. [name] was covered in his own cum, his hair all over the place and his wrists almost forming bruises. he did like the experience nanami gave him, but he never thought he'd be fucking with the enemy.

"pathetic little curse user you are." nanami said before he left. "you should be glad i didn't kill you and that i spared you because you're so cute." he smirked.

and that was the last [name] ever saw of the blonde sorcerer.

[thesevro]

[nanami kento] a man of yours, tonight

[Nanami Kento x FTM/Transgender Male Reader Smut] CW: Contains scenes of explicit sex below the cut

Walang plot for real

He has noticed your shy smiles, the exuberance in that glint in your eyes every time he gives voice to the praise you deserve. He'll give it to you no matter the time, the place, or the hour.

—

He has noticed your shy smiles, the exuberance in that glint in your eyes every time he gives voice to the praise you deserve. That color makes you bloom, he said as you headed out the door to start the car. Hmm, new shampoo today? Your hair smells wonderful, he murmured into your ear as you scooped him into your arms to settle in for bed. You’re always using that brain of yours, hm? He told you as you settled the accounts for Jujutsu Tech on a whim, manipulating the arithmetic and algebraic behind accounting with ease. 

Now he moans your name in pleasure, his heartbeat speeding up to match the symphony of your own. Your legs have locked around him. Every time he feels your thighs around his waist and your limbs wrapping around him his brain explodes with pleasure and a delicious throb courses through him. He is yours; you own him, and you are his to breed.

“Kento,” you groan deeply, head twisting to the side as his fingers reach between your thighs to finger the tip of your little cocklet. “Please—wait.”

“No, no, love.” He slides his middle finger up the sensitive tip of your bulging clitoris, shuddering through a breath as you clench tight around him. “Keep using that handsome voice of yours. Make sure everyone hears how good I fuck my beautiful husband.”

Your head tilts up to force a kiss to his lips. Your tongue slides against his. He knows all your tactics, all the ways you try to stop him from saying all the things you like only because you’re too shy to hear them. He parts his lips from yours to suckle kisses along your jaw, gentle enough to leave no bruises but with enough insistence to have you shivering with delight. His cock stretches you inside as he thrusts. 

For a time, he had been shy himself. Making love to you for the first and every time blew his mind, though the words of praise he wished to share with you would catch in his throat. It was when you had made love to him, moaning words of sweetness into his ear with you between his legs that cracked him. He will always remember every second of those moments: the skillful shift of your hips to angle into his sensitive, neglected prostate, the pleasured shudder of your musculature even as he knew your pleasure was derived only by the sight of your sex meeting his. After, though spent and panting from three drawn-out orgasms, he had wrestled you into bed to slip his face between your legs and drag his tongue along your slit. You had already removed the prosthetic and had drawn a bath for the two of you, but he would not heed your call for a bath and simply moved his tongue around your still-hard cocklet. He remembers the way you fought till the end, telling him to leave it be, that you could take care of it yourself, until your body had sagged with each expert movement of his desperate tongue and your wetness gushed from your hole to spill into his starved mouth. He remembers licking into you, past your overstimulation with you clawing at his shoulders, until he’d broken you into giving him a second, your moans deep and borderline exhausted.

“Kento,” you cry now, voice high-pitched. Ah, you’re close. This sensitive cocklet of yours… how he loves it. 

“Mm, let it out, lovely.” 

Cum on my cock, show me what it feels like. Give me your pleasure. Perhaps, one day, he will hear you say these things with your own length pumping inside him.

Your body twists as he draws an orgasm from you. “That’s it,” he moans, his thrusts slowing, deepening as his cock pulses with his own need. “Good boy. Good boy.”

Though his pace has slowed, he falls over the brink easily. His body loosens and he hunches over you to cradle you in his arms as his cock throbs to fill you up with his cum. He groans into your neck, unabashed, holding you close while your lips kiss his ear to tiredly murmur your own praise. 

“Fill me up Kento,” you groan. “Fill me up.”

After, though spent, he draws a bath. He grabs the two towels designated solely for cleaning the both of you up after sex and returns to the bedroom to wipe bewteen your legs, as you have done so many times for him. You give a squeeze to his hand and murmur your thanks. 

“Of course,” he says, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’ve always got you.”