desirekento - Tumblr blog

desirekento · 10 hours ago

Text

SURRENDER | 相澤. 消太. AIZAWA SHŌTA

SYNOPSIS: after a long day, shōta needs you to take the reins - he can’t help but surrender himself to you

PAIRING: gn!reader x bf!aizawa

WC: 1.7k words

CW: sub!shōta, oral (m), begging, praise, cum eating

🌸 DEE SAYS: a friend in need requested this… don’t expect mha regularly on this acc (I didn’t finish s2)

🎧 — SURRENDER BY KUT KLOSE

Aizawa Shōta was always drained. Between teaching and hero duties, he had almost zero time to care for himself, let alone you. And yet, most days he seemed to spend his little free time spoiling you, letting his problems fade away into the background. But they still gnawed away at his mind, threatening to ruin the fragile compartmentalisation he was utilising to keep going throughout the day. So Shōta was always drained - but today? Today he was exhausted.

You looked up from the sofa once you heard the familiar close of the door, a shuffling of clothes and shoes audible before he softly padded into the living room. He gave you a distant, tired look before rounding the sofa and letting himself fall into your arms, grunting in relief as he relaxed against you. Head nestled against your chest, Aizawa closed his eyes, allowing the weight to slowly roll off his shoulders as your hand carded through his hair.

“Bad day?”

Humming in agreement, he snuggled closer like one of the cats currently slinking around the apartment, desperate to steal some of your warmth after being outside the house for so long. You smelled like home - like fresh linen, and a faint scent of warm sugar. Inhaling deeply, he breathed out slowly, hands now resting comfortably on your hips.

“I made biscuits earlier.”

His voice was gruff, a little scratchy from little use throughout the day, “I can tell. You smell good.”

Smiling, your hand moved from his hair to the side of his face, rubbing his temple just like you always did. He stifled a small moan as the tension in his head subsided, the migraine that had been plaguing him all day already lifting. Any longer like this, and he’d fall asleep in your arms.

“You not hungry?”

Shōta shook his head, nestling further into your chest as if attempting to smother himself. You chuckled softly under your breath, your free hand now tracing lazy circles on his back.

“Tired?”

His eyes slowly blinked open, head lifting ever so slightly to rest his chin on your chest. Golden irises blearily looked back at you, and his fingers curled, fisting the fabric of your shirt. He had that faraway look that he always made when he was needy, but too tired to act on it - pleading silently with you to take the lead. As soon as your fingertips grazed his cheek, he leant into your touch and nuzzled gently, seeking comfort almost desperately.

“Please, Y/N.”

Shōta’s head turned, pressing gentle kisses to your fingertips, eyes still gleaming at you. He was simply crumbling under your gaze, that unwavering neutral expression as he made a complete fool of himself. He wanted something, anything of a reaction, grip on your shirt tightening. Mouth opening, he was finally rewarded with another smile as he mouthed at your hand, lips audibly moving against your palm as his kisses became more insistent.

“I need it. Need it so bad.”

“Yeah?” Your voice had that teasing lilt to it that drove him crazy at times like this, “how bad?”

The tears began to well at your cruelty, expression softening with that tired desire that characterised him so well.

“Baby, not today. Just need…” he cut himself off, almost as if debating his next words, weighing them on his tongue before continuing, “need you to take care of me.”

Pushing yourself up slowly, you watched as he reluctantly gave you space, pushing up onto his arms. His eyes were trained on you as you slid out from underneath him, quickly sitting down and looking up at you expectantly. You simply stared at each other for a minute, tension evident as you held his gaze, hand absentmindedly trailing up the back of his neck to gather his long hair into a makeshift ponytail. Obediently, he tilted his head back, shivering slightly at the sensation, still maintaining eye contact.

Once certain you had his full attention, you let go of his hair, watching smugly as he almost seemed disappointed before you slowly sank to your knees. The tension seeped gradually from his body, eyes lidded as he gazed down at you with adoration, settling between his thighs with your hands on his knees. From this angle, you could see the tent in his slacks standing proudly, straining against the fabric.

He practically shuddered as your hands trailed lazily up his thighs, coming to a rest just before where he needed you most. Aizawa’s breathing intensified, licking his lips in a futile attempt to calm himself as you mercilessly teased. Then, by the grace of whatever higher power above, your hands fiddled with his belt buckle and expertly undone it, unbuttoning the top of his slacks so they could slide down his toned thighs.

In one fell swoop, his lower half was now bare, cock pitifully weeping precum as it bristled in the now-stifling air of your shared apartment.

Shōta gasped as your hands snaked behind his waist, pushing his hips forward and himself almost into an arch, dragging him an inch closer. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, watching mute and compliant as you maneuvered him as you pleased. A soft gasp escaped his lips when your thumbs pressed into his hips, nuzzling his thigh.

“So soft… so good f’me.”

He couldn’t contain his whimper in response.

Unable to contain yourself any longer, one hand left his waist and gently curled around him, the other moving to rest on his thigh. Like this was a typical Tuesday evening to you, your thumb flicked over his weeping slit, spreading precum down his throbbing shaft. You tried not to smirk at the stutter of Shōta’s hips, how his head fell back into the sofa cushions, how his lips parted in a quiet exhale in relief.

He was hungry for more, and you knew it, yet you continued to toy with him.

Leaning in, you relished in the way Aizawa’s breath hitched in anticipation, only to lick a long stripe from base to tip. Slow, torturous even, the roughness of your tongue on the underside of his cock had his mind reeling, fingers grasping the sofa for dear life. A tiny moan slipped past his lips, his resolve wearing paper-thin.

“Y/N, b-baby-” his voice hitched, precum dribbling as he fidgeted under your touch, eyes squeezed shut. You barely spared him a glance, tongue now circling his tip teasingly, dipping into kitten-lick his slit, humming in response. As expected, the vibrations pulled another moan from his unwilling throat, strained as if it had fought to escape his mouth.

A daring hand snaked into your hair, fingers tangling in it as he finally prised his eyes open, gold glinting at you from behind tired eyelids. While his gaze seemed lazy, there was a sharp alertness in his eyes that divulged his desire.

“Please, don’t make me beg.”

Your mercy was purely based on the desperation in his voice, bordering on distress, due to the simple fact that he wasn’t being swallowed whole right now. So, naturally, you did just that. Sinking slowly onto his cock, you inhaled sharply when his grip on your hair tightened - not guiding, but steadying himself. It encouraged you to stifle your gags and take him deep, nose brushing against his pubic hair.

Letting go of all inhibitions, Shōta stuttered out a moan, hips rigid as he fought to stay still. His muscles were tense, coiled tight, desperate to fuck upwards into the warmth of your mouth, to watch your lips stretch as you struggled to accommodate him. As much as he feared the consequences of moving, his body was much more focused on the promise of satisfaction.

Hollowing your cheeks, you began to bob your head, dragging up and down his cock hungrily. You let the warmth of your mouth envelop him, tongue insistently dragging against his underside. A myriad of curses slipped from Shōta’s mouth, his grip only tightening on your hair. Droplets of precum bead at his slit, the musky scent of his arousal heavy in the confined space. Finally lost to sensation, Shōta started babbling incoherently, a litany of pleas and praises escaping him.

“Mmfuck-! Your mouth feels so good,” he panted out, pushing you down further as he choked out his words between moans. “Please… please keep going, just like that.”

You couldn’t help but moan at the feeling of his blunt nails scraping lightly against your scalp, haughtily looking at him through your eyelashes. Shōta tipped his head back with a guttural groan, thighs trembling under your touch.

“Fuck baby,” he panted out, hips now shallowly rocking to fuck into the warmth of your throat. “M’so close- hngh-! S-so close!”

Tears welled in those beautiful golden depths, making them shine as he snapped his head back down to look at you, muscles taut and face scrunched with exertion. He was close, you could feel it. From the way his hips stutter in their movements, to the way his cock throbs angrily in your mouth, you can tell he’s dangerously close. All caution thrown to the wind, Aizawa pants and borderline whimpers, shaking.

Eager to satisfy, you pushed down to the hilt, burying your face in him as you swallowed around his cock. The act took him to the brink, a choked sob ripping from his lips as his vision goes hazy, the pleasure overwhelming.

“Y-Y/N! M’gonna-!”

Aizawa couldn’t even bring himself to finish his sentence before he was spurting down your throat, holding your head in place as thick ropes of cum painted the entirety of your mouth. His entire body had seized up, orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave as you dutifully swallowed what you gave him. He continued like this until sensitivity overwhelmed him, making Shōta release your hair and push you off in one action. He collapsed boneless against the couch, chest heaving and skin shining with sweat.

“Holy fuck…”

Licking a trail of cum that had escaped from the corner of your mouth, you rose from your position on the floor, settling next to Aizawa on the couch. Similar to him, you were also catching your breath, voice a little hoarse as you turned to him.

“Feeling better?”

Facing you, he gave you a tired smile before pulling you onto his lap, cupping your face and kissing you softly. His tongue explored your mouth, tasting himself with a groan before mumbling into the embrace.

“Much better.”

#✮ — desirekento #mha #mha x reader #mha aizawa #aizawa #aizawa shōta #aizawa shouta #aizawa smut #mha smut #my hero academia #my hero academia smut #aizawa mha #aizawa my hero academia #boku no hero academia

32 notes · View notes

desirekento · 1 day ago

Text

STEELO | 七海.建人. Nanami Kento

SYNOPSIS: kento’s been a better husband, but is still too busy for his own good. after a cup of tea and an honest conversation with him, things get steamy.

PAIRING: fem!reader x husband!nanami

WC: 5.4k words

CW: angst to smut, nipple play, oral (f), panty kink (?), light manhandling, dirty talk, pussy slapping (once), unprotected piv, begging, premature ejaculation, light overstim, brief humping, creampie x2, big dick!nanami, hair pulling | PART I

🌸 DEE SAYS: monster + ovulation is a deadly combo… sorry for the wait </3

🎧 — STEELO BY 702

In the early hours of the morning, you found yourself haunting the kitchen, your mind too wired for your body to relax. Things had been better with Kento - he was more attentive, more romantic, more satisfied. Rather than perfunctory affection, every action had intent behind it. Even in his speech, Kento was almost hellbent on ensuring you felt loved and cared for. But there was one core, crucial element he was missing - he was still working himself to the bone.

While before he had offset the workload by taking less interest in you, now he simply took on the extra weight, seemingly in his stride. His affection was often limited by time constraints, and it wasn’t rare for you to go to sleep and wake up without being in his embrace. He didn’t sleep in his office like he used to, but his work kept him either too busy or too tired for anything more. It was irritating you, but you made no comment - he was trying, after all.

Hence why on a particularly bad night, one filled with tosses and turns, you gave up on trying to sleep and instead went to go make some tea. Herbal and decaffeinated, something to take the edge off and hopefully even lull you into sleep. Creeping quietly into the kitchen and flipping on the lamp, so as not to disturb Nanami in his office, you brewed the kettle and prepared your tea bag, honey, and mug. You then hoisted yourself onto the kitchen island, waiting patiently for the kettle to boil.

“What are you doing out here?”

Turning in surprise, your eyes soon landed on the shadowy figure of your husband, emerging from behind the bright light of his computer. As he made his way to you, you took in the dark circles under his eyes, the droopiness of his eyelids, the gruffness of his voice. His eyes trailed over your body - covered by an oversized t-shirt and a pair of his joggers - but he didn’t comment, despite the glint of desire in his eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep, so I was making some chamomile tea,” you said as he approached the island, leaning on it a step away from where you sat. “Would you like some?”

Nanami was visibly hesitant, his mind grappling between the work waiting for him and the part of him yearning for connection with his wife. While the rational part of his brain urged him to send you to bed alone, to retreat into his office and work through the night, exhaustion chipped away at his resolve.

“Yes, actually,” he said, tiredly sitting down on one of the stools, “that would be lovely.”

Nodding, you slid off the island and took another mug from the cabinet, procuring another tea bag for your husband. You could almost feel his gaze on you, trailing over the outline of your body as he observed you preparing his drink. The tension was thick, and you tried to lighten it, turning to look at him with a smile.

“I’ll make sure to put extra honey in, I know you like yours super sweet.”

As you pour the kettle over the teabags, Nanami nodded, internally pleased by the small gesture. It still fascinated him after all these years that you remembered little things about him, insignificant things that most didn’t take notice of. The mundane attention to detail left a warmth in his chest, one that had nothing to do with the glass of whiskey he’d been nursing earlier that night.

“You know me so well,” he muses, tone soft in the early hours of the morning, “you take care of me well too.”

Chuckling, you shook your head at his remark, squeezing honey into the tea after leaving it to steep for a while. As promised, you gave Nanami an extra dose, stirring it gently before bringing both to the island. His fingers brushed yours as he accepted the steaming mug, the brief contact reminding him of the simmering physical affection waiting to overflow between you.

“Thank you Y/N, it smells incredible.”

Nodding, you blew softly on your own mug before bringing it to your lips, sipping slowly. “Should I get you a saucer so you can continue your work?”

Though you offered, the bitter gaze you gave to the ajar office door was enough to inform Nanami of his response.

“It’s okay, I think I’ll take a break and enjoy my tea without distractions.”

He took a sip of the tea, savouring the sweetness as its relaxing warmth spread through him. “What’s keeping you up tonight? Just couldn’t sleep?”

You sighed, taking another sip of tea before answering. “My insomnia’s been acting up lately, but I think it’s something else. I just feel more… more unsettled than usual,” turning to him, you gave him a tired smile, “it’s stupid, I don’t know why I feel like this.”

Nanami’s brows furrowed at your words, setting his mug down with concern etched into his expression. He took your free hand in his, thumb rubbing softly over your knuckles.

“Unsettled?” He repeated softly, “you used to sleep so peacefully next to me.”

The implication of his words didn’t escape Nanami, and the air thickened with unspoken tension. Catching himself, Nanami cleared his throat almost awkwardly, “Would you like to talk about it? Maybe expressing yourself would help relieve feelings of… unsettlement.”

Chuckling, you brought his hand to your lips and kissed it softly, the other then bringing the mug to your lips once again. “It’s nothing special. I’ve never slept well, especially around or with people.” Giving him an awkward smile, you continued, “I don’t know why I only sleep well with you. I guess… because you made me feel safe?”

A rare softness creeps across his features at this, his free hand cupping your cheek as the other squeezes your hand gently.

“Because I made you feel safe,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. “And yet, I seem to have failed you in that regard lately, haven't I?”

He leans in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. The scent of whiskey and expensive cologne envelops you, achingly familiar. Whispers of chamomile and honey on his breath are the only smells disrupting the usual olfactory harmony.

“I'm sorry, Y/N. For making you feel unsafe, uncertain. That was never my intention.”

Giving him an encouraging smile, you softly pecked his lips, voice gentle. “Kento, you’re trying. That’s all that matters to me - at the very least, you’re trying.�� Pulling back a little, you turned to take in another sip of tea, “I understand how busy you are now.”

He inhaled sharply at your affection, eyes briefly fluttering closed. When his eyes opened again, there was a new intensity burning in his eyes.

“Y/N, I’m never too busy to ensure your comfort, your happiness. Your safety.” His fingers traced down your cheek to your nape, playing with the baby hairs fondly.

Pulling you closer, your breath mingled in the scant space between you, faces inches apart. “Let me show you,” he whispers, his lips nearly brushing against yours with each word, “just how much you mean to me.”

As much as you wanted him to lean in, to give in to the desire festering inside, you yourself were uncertain. “Ken, you don’t have to prove yourself to me. It’s been a while since we-”

Caving, Nanami silenced you with a kiss, lips moving with a desperate urgency that belied his usual cool demeanour. He poured months of longing and regret into the embrace, his hand entangling in your hair. When he finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, chests heaving. Nanami’s eyes superficially seemed dark with desire, but there was a vulnerability there too, a raw honesty that he rarely allowed himself to show.

“I know it's been a while,” he says hoarsely, his forehead pressed against yours, “and I know I haven't been the husband you deserve. But I'm here now, Y/N. I'm choosing you, choosing us.”

A sudden wave of doubt washed over you, your own expression vulnerable as you stared into Kento’s eyes. “There was never… anyone else? All this time?”

His eyes widened at your question, a flicker of shock and guilt crossing his features. Nanami sat back, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he struggled to find the right words.

“No, Y/N. There's never been anyone else,” he said firmly, holding your gaze with an intensity that bordered on desperation. “Yes, I've been distant, focused on work, but my heart, my loyalty...they've always belonged solely to you.”

He took a shuddering breath, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of his confession. Sighing, you stood up and took the cups to the sink as he continued, unable to face him.

“I know I haven't shown it well, but you're the only one I want, the only one I've ever wanted. These past months, seeing you with others, even innocently...it drove me mad with jealousy, with the fear of losing you.”

Eyes watering, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer, crying out with a slam of your hands on the countertop. “But why, Kento?! Why not just talk, just tell me how you feel?!”

Head bowed, Kento’s handsome features were contorted with guilt. He let his face fall into his hands, unable to look you in the eye. Despite this, he felt your presence as you moved closer, now leaning on the kitchen island. “Cowardice, Y/N. Because expressing these feelings, being vulnerable...it goes against everything I've ever been taught, everything I've built my life upon. As a businessman, as a public figure, showing weakness is...unacceptable.”

He turned to face you, his hazel eyes glistening with unshed tears - it knocked all the fight out of you, seeing your usually controlled husband like this. “But more than that, I was afraid. Afraid of rejection, of failure, of shattering the perfect image we present to the world.”

Cupping his cheeks, you drew closer with a sorrowful look. “That fear is what threatens the image you want to project, Kento. The tension this past year was all avoidable if you just spoke to me.”

Pressing a kiss to his forehead, you let your own tears fall. “You’re my husband, Ken, and I’m your wife. You should be able to express yourself to me, if not anyone else.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed as your lips pressed against his forehead. A single tear escaped, trailing down his cheek, but for once, he doesn't try to hide it. Instead, Kento turned his head to nuzzle into your palm, seeking comfort in your gentle touch.

“But it’s okay to be afraid, as long as you tell me. If you don’t tell me, I can’t help you.”

“You're right,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion, “I should have told you. Should have trusted in the strength of what we have.”

Nanami's arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against his chest. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply, as if trying to memorize your scent, your warmth. “I'm sorry, Y/N. For everything. Please...please forgive me.”

Hugging Nanami, your hands softly rubbed his back, soothing him. This outburst of emotion was unusual for your husband, and the need to console felt overpowering. “Oh Ken, it’s okay. Everything’s okay now.”

He clung to you like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline, his strong body trembling slightly in your embrace. His hands roamed your back, mapping the contours of your muscles, reacquainting himself with the feel of you after so many months apart.

“Everything's okay now,” he agrees, his voice muffled against your skin, “because I have you. Because you're willing to give me another chance, despite my mistakes.”

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes searching your face with an intensity that steals your breath. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything in this world. And I swear, I will spend every day proving that to you, if you'll let me.”

Smiling brightly at him, you pecked him on his temple, something you used to do when he complained of migraines. It felt as if the fog over Nanami’s mind had been lifted, and he gratefully accepted the affection.

“You’ve got nothing to prove, idiot. I love you too, and I’ll never stop loving you.”

A genuine smile breaks across his face at your words, transforming his usually stern features into something warm and approachable. He laughed softly, the sound rich and melodious, filled with relief and joy.

“An idiot in love,” he corrected playfully, “but an idiot who knows what he wants. And what he wants...is you.”

Nanami leant in, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. It's different from previous affections - deeper, more meaningful. There was a slowness to it that was nothing like your prior hasty embrace. His hands framed your face tenderly as he poured all of his love, his devotion, his promises into the kiss. You were receptive and kissed back eagerly, mirroring his emotion.

The kiss deepened, growing more heated as months of tension melted away. Nanami straightened up and walked you backwards until your back hit the wall, never breaking the kiss. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he pressed his body to yours, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal.

Breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips along your jaw, down the column of your throat. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin, determined to leave his mark, to stake his claim.

“Tell me what you need, Y/N,” he rasped against your pulse point, “tell me how to please you, how to make this right. I want to worship every inch of you, to remind you of the pleasure only I can give you.”

Biting your lip, you tried to stifle the moans caught in the back of your throat, voice wavering as you replied, “I just want you, Ken. Need you.”

A low groan rumbled in his chest at your needy plea, his eyes darkening with lust and adoration. In one swift motion, he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal-style towards the bedroom.

“Then let me show you just how much I need you too,” he murmured, kicking the door shut behind him. Nanami laid you down on the plush comforter, hovering over you with an almost predatory gleam in his eye. He took a moment to simply drink in the sight of you, spread out beneath him like an offering.

“You're so beautiful, Y/N,” he breathed, his hands skimming reverently over your body, “I've missed touching you like this, missed feeling your skin against mine.”

Smiling up at him, Nanami was delighted to see a similar level of lust in your expression, one of your hands taking his and moving it higher up your torso. “I don’t know why you ever stopped.”

He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “Neither do I, my love. It was the biggest mistake of my life.”

Nanami captured your lips in another searing kiss as his hands started to wander, slipping under your shirt to caress the smooth skin of your stomach and chest. He broke the kiss to trail his mouth down your neck, sucking hard on your pulse point, intent on leaving a vivid mark for all to see - a visible sign of his possession, his love.

His nimble fingers made quick work of your shirt, yanking off the fabric to expose more of your skin to his hungry gaze and impatient hands. “I'm going to take my time with you, Y/N,” he promises huskily, his hot breath ghosting over your collarbone.

Leaning into his ear, you softly pecked the shell before whispering to him. “Please, Ken. Just do something, anything. I-” your voice hitched as his fingertips grazed over your nipples. “I need you, please.”

Nanami was weak to your faint pleas, thumbs rubbing circles into the curves of your breasts before finally finding purchase on your nipples. He watched in awe as your back arched into his touch, muffling a whimper when he rolled them. An eager hand snaked into his hair, guiding him closer to your chest. Obliging, Nanami took your hardened nipple between his lips, suckling while continuing to roll and pinch the other.

“K-Ken!” You cried, grip tightening on his hair until your nails scratched, spreading a dull pain through his scalp. Nanami groaned, pinching your nipple in response. He spoke softly to you, muffled against your skin.

“So responsive. I didn’t know you needed me this bad.” He chuckled, releasing your nipple and grunting when you tried to push him back, whining impatiently. Tutting, he easily pushed himself up against your hands, moving upwards to press a bruising kiss against your lips.

Nanami hungrily swallowed your whines, greedily forcing his tongue inside your mouth, exploring every inch as if it was your first time together. After so long, in a way it was. Kento was relearning your body, aided by muscle memory and your eager reactions.

He smiled softly into the kiss when your free arm wrapped around his shoulders, fisting his shirt and hair as you pulled him that impossible inch closer. You didn’t care if you couldn’t breathe, if you were crushed under his weight - if that was your fate, you willingly welcomed it. The only thought that came to mind right now was how much you needed him, how much you missed him, how much you wanted him.

Close wasn’t close enough - you needed him inside you.

“I’m so wet, Ken,” you gasped against his lips, delighting in the way he groaned and chased your mouth, eager to keep devouring you. But you needed more, more than his greedy kisses. Grasping the hand that was groping your boob, thumb flicking over the nipple, you guided it down your torso, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of his joggers.

Pulling fully away from his lips, you tried to keep a steady voice as Kento diverted his attention to your neck, kissing and sucking harsh marks into your nape. You could feel the way he inhaled your warm scent, nose pressed unnecessarily close as he continued to groan and suck hungrily.

“Can you feel it, Ken? How much I need you?”

The words had barely left your mouth when Kento’s hands slipped into your underwear, fingertips instantly finding your clit. He paused his sucking to moan into your neck - was it a whine? It was different than usual - rubbing you slowly to collect your juices.

“You’re fucking soaked, baby,” he breathed out, soothing the marks stinging your neck with soft laps of his tongue. “My poor wife, I left you like this? I should’ve taken better care of you.”

Pulling away from your neck, Kento withdrew his hand for a taste of you, tongue lewdly licking before he sucked softly on his digits. He closed his eyes, expression akin to bliss, before pressing his lips to yours again. “You’re so sweet, my love.”

Before you could even think to complain, Kento’s mouth slowly travelled down your body, licking and sucking obscenely at your skin. When he finally met the waistband of his your pants, he looked up at you through honeyed eyelashes before tugging them down swiftly. You gasped as cold air hit your soaked underwear, left to the elements for mere seconds before Kento’s mouth was on you.

“Ken, what-” your hands pushed at his head, face flushed and embarrassed as he licked you eagerly through your underwear. He lifted up to give you an unamused glare before pushing himself flush again, sucking voraciously at the seat of your panties.

It was dirty, he was dirty, and it was making your mind hazy with desire. Kento had never been like this before, usually sticking to missionary. I mean, it was never bad sex, but it was… typical, routine even. But this? This was just short of perverse. Filthy.

You were fucking loving every second of it.

You fidgeted and cried out as the seat of your panties darkened with a mixture of spit and arousal. Kento kept his gaze on you, the tip of his tongue now prodding your clit as his nails dug into the plush flesh of your thighs.

When your hips bucked, he took the opportunity to tighten his grasp, manoeuvring your legs over his shoulders and pinning you in place. He sniffed you in between ministrations, eyes lidded and drunken.

“You smell so fucking good.”

Trapped by his crushing grip, you couldn’t do anything but buck and grip the sheets, pussy rubbing desperately against his face. A whine left your lips when your clit nudged his nose, the friction of the material separating you sending delicious sparks of pleasure up your spine. You were close, so fucking close, and Nanami could tell.

Your thighs gripped his head as if you were trying to pop it right open, and his ears rang as he continued eagerly. Your moans had reached pornographic levels, and your back was in such a sharp arch that it clicked as all your muscles coiled, tense and stinging.

Slipping your panties to the side, Nanami buried his face further into you and murmured softly, “Just like that, baby. Give it to me.”

The vibrations of his voice stoked the fire pooling in your stomach, and within seconds your eyes were rolling back, thighs shaking around his head as you screamed his name. Kento took it all with delight, still sucking and lapping at your pussy through your orgasm.

He was so greedy, savouring every droplet your weeping pussy gave him. He kept going, never stopping, until you were shaking with overstimulation and pushing at his forehead, eventually detaching himself - and having the nerve to frown at him as if you’d deprived him of something.

Falling flat on your back, you chest heaved and your skin glistened with sweat, eyes barely open as you tried to process the pleasure wracking your body. Your nerve endings were on fire, and you pussy twitched softly while you panted desperately. And your husband? Your husband simply stared down at you, jaw clenched tight as if he was a predator simply waiting to pounce on you. When you had composed yourself, just a little, your eyes finally opened, only to find him hypnotised by your pussy, watching it twitch with sensitivity.

“K-Ken?”

His eyes flicked to meet yours, licking his lips softly before responding, voice gruff.

“Yeah?”

“That… that was…” The words escaped you - how could you even describe the way he just made you felt. Sensational? No, you weren’t gonna tell your husband his oral was sensational. You’d look like a fool.

Luckily, Nanami wasn’t really following what you were saying. Even as he sat back on his haunches, his thumbs rubbed slow circles into your quivering thighs. His gaze was dark, brooding, similar to when he’d mull over his work.

“Let me fuck you.”

Your brows furrowed in surprise, soon shifting when his thumb trailed upwards, ghosting over your bikini line before meeting with your pussy again. He pressed tenderly into the bundle of nerves, conscious of your sensitivity as he drew languid circles into it. Breath hitching, your thighs tensed and shook once again, struggling to keep your gaze on him.

“Wh-what? Ken, s’too much-”

His palm came down on your cunt before you could finish your protest, and you yelped. It was a sharp hit, and spread an addictive pleasure-pain mix through your entire body.

“I need to fuck you. Raw.” His thumb continued its ministrations, soothing the burn of his slap. “Deep.” He spat, wetting your already dripping cunt. “Hard.”

His free hand dug into your skin yet again, and you grasped at his wrist as if it was a life saver, like it was the only thing keeping you from being swept away under a wave of pleasure. His eyes finally flicked to you, gaze softening when he saw the tears pricking your eyes.

“Please?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say no, not with the way he looked at you almost pitifully. His grip on you softened as well, rubbing symmetrical circles into your hip as the other thumb did to your pussy. Taking your hand in his, he interlocked your fingers before bringing it to his lips, peppering kisses across your knuckles.

“Please, baby?”

Before you could think any wiser, you nodded, gazing up at him with such adoration in your eyes that he could physically feel his heart swell. His hands were quick to leave you, hastily grappling with his dress shirt to unbutton it. He was surprisingly quick, and soon enough his clothes were rumpled in a pile with yours, only his boxers still clinging to his body.

The hardened tent in his pants made the fabric stretch, taut and wet as he unashamedly leaked. You gulped back at the visible print, not remembering him being that big. Uncertainty was visible in your expression - would it fit after all this time?

“I’ll make it fit.”

Oh god, you’d said it aloud. Embarrassed, you covered your face, cheeks heated like a sinner in church. Chuckling softly, Nanami gently prised them away, leaning in closer and grumbling softly to you.

“You know I’ll always take care of you, baby.” He pressed a gentle smooch to your temple, fingers catching in your hair as he gently stroked your face. “And anyways, I’ve got to show you just how sorry I am, don’t I?”

Nodding, you gave him a smile. “Yeah, I guess you do.”

He smiled back, that wry smile that was becoming increasingly more commonplace. That smile that you had missed so dearly. Nanami let his face rest in your neck once again, and peppered you with more butterfly kisses, resting on his elbow as his other hand rested on your hip. Like this, with him between your legs, you had no choice but to spread wider, much to his delight. Kento immediately took the opportunity to softly grind against you, groaning against your skin.

“So soft… can’t get enough of you.”

Stuttering out a moan, your arms fell down his back, nails searching for purchase on the wide expanse. He hissed as you etched red scratches into his skin, nipping softly at your neck in retaliation. He dipped his hand down, tugging his boxers down his thighs so his cock could spring free, tip nudging against your clit.

Looking downwards between you, you gasped when you saw his cock, painfully erect and angrily red, dribbling pearls of precum onto your cunt. He smirked, looking down at himself as his hand moved to the back of your thigh, softly pushing your leg until it was folded to your chest, angling you perfectly to slip in. You breath hitched, and he continued to lick and suck at your jawline, cock rubbing meaninglessly against you.

“You want it, baby? You gonna beg for it?”

Pursing your lips, your hips rotated in unison with him, desperate from more. Upon seeing he wasn’t giving you anything more without what he demanded from you, you whined prettily into his ear.

“Kento, please. Please fill me up. Need you to fuck me dumb, make me forget I was ever mad at you.”

He chuckled as he languidly mouthed at your throat, delighting in the way you swallowed nervously. His hand snaked between you two, giving your clit a soft squeeze before obliging, softly grabbing his cock.

He hissed into your skin, fisting it and pumping a few times, spreading his precum down his shaft. Then, you felt his bulbous tip nudging your fluttering hole, and his warm breath on your ear, nibbling at the shell as he muttered, “Of course, baby. Since you asked so nicely.”

Then, he was breaching you. Slowly, torturously, stretching you beyond comprehension. Months of tension, of neglect, of despair melted away as he forced inch after inch into your warm walls, both of you crying out at the sensation. He pressed in, continued despite your whines of pain, until he bottomed out, grip tightening on your hair.

You were so warm, so wet, so inviting - he was so hard, so wide, so long. Both were too much for either of you to bear, not after such a long dry spell.

As if on cue, you both orgasmed, your walls clenching around his cock and milking him dry. It was obscene, the two of you panting and moaning as you came from him simply sheathing himself into you. Quivering in his grasp, your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him flush against you as rope after rope spilled inside you.

And yet, as soon as it was over, Kento’s hips were moving.

You buried your face in his neck, whining and mewling as he pistoned in, setting an unforgiving pace. He was shaking, still sensitive, the pleasure too raw. And, my god, he was whimpering. Your blunt, impassive, poker-faced husband was whimpering as he dragged in and out, pressing that impossible inch closer to you.

He was everywhere, completely covering you, his body engulfing you under its muscled planes. It was as if every corner, every crevice was insistent on devouring you, on sucking you dry. You couldn’t even bring yourself to moan his name, simply blabbering nonsensically, tears streaking down your cheeks. It was too much, he was too much, and it felt fucking amazing.

Kento was splitting you open as if it was his only responsibility, as if his sole purpose on this earth was to ruin his little wife. And in a way, he would agree. He would wholeheartedly agree, in fact.

“Baby, I love you so much. Ngh-! Missed you so much. N-Need you so much!”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was crying. With the way he was whimpering into your ear, with the way he was shaking in your arms, with the way his hips desperately knocked against yours. He was throbbing, heavy inside you as he pressed deeper, almost as if he was trying to breach your cervix. Nanami was bulging against your stomach, fit to burst once again. As expected, so were you.

His lips met yours again, muffling both your desperate moans as he sloppily devoured you, salt mixing into the kiss. His sweat, your tears, his tears, the faint taste of you on his tongue - it wasn’t certain just what was making the embrace salty. But neither of you paid much mind, not when your walls fluttered around him, and Kento began to thrust shallowly.

“Y/N- mmmfuck, Y/N! Baby, y’gonna cum? Hmm? Hngh-! You close, baby?”

Nodding eagerly, you felt as if your nails would draw blood if you gripped him tighter, the lewd squelch where your bodies connected filling the room. The scent and heat of sex clung to the both of you like a blanket, covering you and suffocating you within the act. He was so warm, so heavy, so- everywhere.

“Y/N! Please, I can’t hold it!”

Your hand darted between the two of you, and with a few hasty rubs, you were creaming on his cock. He moaned out loud as you clamped down on him, grip like a vice as he stilled and emptied himself inside you. He filled you with even more cum than the first time, to the point it began to streak down you despite him still being buried deep.

Sighing out in relief, Nanami collapsed on top of you, head nestled in your neck as he caught his breath. Your husband was shivering slightly from the sheer severity of his orgasm, crushing you like a weighed blanket. You welcomed the feeling eagerly, holding him close, close as if you were afraid to let go.

Chuckling, he pressed a kiss to your shoulder before gently untangling his hand from your hair, pushing up shakily to look down at you. You were utterly fucked out and he was in a similar fashion, his eyelids heavy with fatigue.

“I love you so much,” he nuzzled your cheek, pressing a kiss to it before lifting up again. “My beautiful wife.”

You held his gaze for a second with a loving smile before grabbing him by the ear, pulling it hard. Nanami’s brows furrowed in confusion as he winced, eyes now alert and staring into yours. While your smile never faltered, your eyes had a sharpness to them that quelled any protests.

“If you ever go cold on me like that again, I’ll set you on fire.”

“…Understood, darling.”

God, Nanami loved his wife.

#✮ — desirekento #jjk x poc!reader #jjk kento #jjk angst #jjk nanami #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu nanami #nanami fanfic #nanami kento #nanami #kento x reader #kento smut

65 notes · View notes

desirekento · 2 months ago

Text

GET IT TOGETHER | 七海.建人. Nanami Kento

SYNOPSIS: after the honeymoon phase, Kento became distant - you’re wholeheartedly convinced he doesn’t love you anymore, and that it’s all your fault

PAIRING: fem!reader x husband!nanami

WC: 2.3k words

CW: alcohol use, hurt/comfort | PART II

🌸 DEE SAYS: enjoy my first anime/jjk ff <3

🎧 — GET IT TOGETHER BY 702

Nanami had been distant for a while - snappy, disinterested, working until the late hours of the night. Affection from him felt obligatory: a cold kiss on the cheek before leaving the house and after returning; vague compliments, mostly about your cooking, that never really reached his eyes; a slow deterioration of quality time until it became a wistful fantasy to have his attention for five minutes.

“I’m busy, Y/N. Leave me be.”

Most of your conversations were strictly functional - then again, Nanami had never been one for what he deemed ‘superficial niceties’ (known to others as polite conversation). Had it not been for the fact that he’s mostly holed up in his home office, you’d be inclined to suspect him of cheating.

In all honesty, you had began to blame yourself. If there was another woman, then at least you wouldn’t feel this crushing weight on your shoulders. It felt as if you weren’t enough, that Nanami was sick of you and it was all your fault. He was constantly tired, constantly on edge… constantly unhappy. You were a failure of a wife, playing along with this farce just to feel some form of normality. Just keep swimming, you told yourself. All marriages go through a rough patch, he’ll come round.

Today was one of the rare instances that Nanami had to leave for an in-person meeting at his company, the quarterly report neatly tucked under his arm to read over beforehand. You had made him breakfast, but he didn’t eat, preferring to sip black coffee from the pot. You had tried to adjust his tie for him, but he’d pushed your hand away, fixing it himself. And then, like clockwork, like it was a necessary yet unsatisfactory part of his routine, Nanami kissed your cheek. Cold, brief, and apathetic, accompanied by a murmured ‘see you tonight’.

It had been all too much when the door closed behind him - you grabbed a nearby wine bottle and retreated to the bedroom to cry.

You weren’t one to assume love was like the movies - love for you had never been like the romanticised, fantastical bullshit the media tries to shove down everyone’s throats.

In the beginning, yours and Kento’s love had been quiet, simple even, but boundless. He may have not been the most flamboyant in his gestures, or the most poetic with his words, but Kento ensured you knew just how much he adored you. Stolen kisses when you were busy doing something, a soft inhale of your hair as he cuddled you close, a squeeze of your hand as you navigated through a busy crowd.

Kento didn’t bring you anywhere anymore. God, you missed the man you married.

Retrospectively, wine on an empty stomach at 9am was not a good breakfast, but you couldn’t help it. Your mind swirled around and around in circles as you tried to soothe it with alcohol - a futile effort. The more you drank, the more memories flooded your conscious, reducing you to tears.

Rather than going to do the food shopping, or cooking dinner, or anything of value, you simply sat in bed, drunkenly sobbing. This was only worsened by the wedding album you managed to procure from somewhere, staining the pages as you flipped through, sniffling and hiccuping.

Eventually, after a wasted day of drinking and sobbing, followed by more sobbing and drinking, you had passed out in bed, hugging the wedding album to your chest. The alcohol had numbed your senses rather than the pain, so you were none the wiser when Nanami opened the door in the early evening.

The first thing Nanami noticed was the lack of warmth. The house was freezing cold, the kitchen still had the remnants of his abandoned breakfast, and you were nowhere to be seen. He quirked an eyebrow, confused by your absence - usually you’d welcome him home with a smile, the smell of something delicious wafting through the air as you helped him out of his blazer. That was what he was used to, that was the routine you two had fallen into. Then he would kiss your cheek, compliment you on the food, and sit down for dinner. But there was no dinner, no help - no you.

“Y/N?” Nanami called out, setting down his briefcase with a sigh, shrugging his blazer off and tossing it on the nearby chair. “Y/N, I’m home!”

When he was met by nothing but silence, concern began to gnaw at Nanami. Not even bothering to remove his shoes, he paced to the bedroom, throwing open the door. None of the lights were on but he could see your faint silhouette under the covers, and Nanami rolled his eyes. You must’ve napped and overslept, he thought to himself, slightly irritated that you hadn’t prepared something for him to eat. He paced to the bedside table and flicked on the lamp, voice low and neutral, yet still tainted with a twinge of annoyance.

“Y/N, come on now. Surely being a housewife isn’t that tiring-”

He trailed off when he turned to face you, annoyance melting away as the light revealed your state of ruin. Dried tear stains ran down your cheeks, hair in disarray and your nose visibly irritated. Drops of red on the sheet concerned him, only for his questions to be answered by the bottle of wine now visible on the other bedside table. But the knife through his chest? Seeing you, his darling wife, whimpering in her sleep while clutching their wedding album.

Shocked, Nanami softly sat on the edge of the mattress, taking in the view with both concern and surprise. Now that he was fully focusing on you, he saw the dark bags under your eyes, the fitful sleep you were in clearly not relaxing. A tentative hand stroked the globe of your cheek, the usually smooth texture interrupted with the roughness of the tear stains. Nanami cupped your cheek carefully, as if you were fragile porcelain that would break under any pressure. His thumb rubbed smooth circles into your skin, and his brows were furrowed in concern as he spoke again, voice thick with emotion.

“Oh baby, I shouldn’t have let you get like this.”

Leaning forward, Kento softly tilted your head up slightly, pressing a sweet kiss to your slightly-parted lips. The scent of wine on your breath was overwhelming, and the ripple of unease it caused in his stomach only worsened the guilt gnawing at him. He knew he had been a pretty shit husband as of late, becoming more and more engrossed in work as they continued to up his workload, but this? This was the clearest indicator of just how harsh he’d been on you, and that made him feel more sick than the strong smell of wine.

He had failed you.

As he stared at you, engrossed in the sudden changes he hadn’t seen slowly building for months, you shivered against his hand, snuggling into it. For a second, an emotion flashed across your face - relief perhaps? - before you groggily regained consciousness.

“K-Kento..?”

Your words were slurred, and your eyes unfocused, barely able to hold his gaze as Nanami withdrew his hand from you. His other hand took yours, holding it tight as you groaned, trying to sit up. Kento shook his head, softly pushing you back down.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, lie down. I’m here, Y/N.”

Tears began to form in your eyes as Nanami began stroking your hair, finger twirling a strand of it, just as he used to do. The care in the action, the comfort, only worsened the pain festering inside you.

“Ken, I’m s-sorry… so fuckin’ sorry Ken..”

Brows furrowing further, Nanami scooped you into his embrace, tugging you closer when you clung to him and began sobbing.

“Sorry? Baby, what happened? You haven’t done anything wrong.” His palm flattened against your back, rubbing in circles as if soothing a child.

“You hate m-me! You fuckin’ hate me because… because I’m so fucking shit at being a wife! You- hic!- you don’t love me anymore!”

Nanami was rendered speechless by your outburst, looking at you with his jaw dropped. You still clung to him, fists crumpling the front of his dress shirt as you gasped for breath in between sobs. After his momentary short-circuit, his free hand cupped the back of your head, pulling you closer as his other hand still tried to calm you with its ministrations.

“Y/N, please don’t say that. There’s never a day where my love for you hasn’t been strong and steadfast. I don’t think I’m capable of hating you, my love.”

Tears welling in his own eyes, Nanami began rocking you back and forth softly, murmuring sweet nothings to you in a desperate attempt to calm you. As your sobs slowly began to subside into sniffles, Nanami tenderly tilted your head to face him, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I’m the shit husband, Y/N. I’m the one who made my wife believe I hated her even for a second.”

He sighed to himself when your eyes were still unfocused, silent tears still trailing down your cheeks.

“Okay, I’m gonna get you some food. I bet you didn’t even eat today.”

Nodding sluggishly, you attempted to sit up and was yet again denied, this time with Nanami holding you close. He then set you back down into the cushions, adjusting them for you, before standing.

“I think it’s better if you stay here and I make you something.”

As Nanami turned to leave, your hand quickly jutted out, holding his wrist tight. He turned to you, surprised by the strength of your grip as your eyes pleaded with him.

“Stay, please.”

Chuckling, Nanami took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles, biting his lip after they brushed against your wedding band.

“I’ll be back soon, I promise. You need some food in you asap, and I didn’t have time for lunch today.”

With a drunken pout, you nodded and let your hand drop from his, cuddling the wedding album once again. Nanami hid his smile, leaving the door ajar so he could listen out for you.

While not exactly a Michelin star chef, Nanami was a decent cook, and had whipped up a small bowl of soup for himself and some buttered toast for you in record timing. He brought it back to the room, pausing in the doorway as he watched you flick through the wedding album, eyes finally dry and looking fairly more sober.

“I’ve got some toast for you. If you’re feeling up for it, there’s still soup on the stove.”

You nodded, closing the album and gently placing it on the side before gratefully accepting the plate of toast. Nanami settled down into the nearby armchair, taking in grateful mouthfuls of soup. The silence was calm, even with the slight undercurrent of tension, only interrupted by the crunch of toast and the clink of spoon on bowl.

When everything was cleared, Nanami changed out of his rumpled clothes, slid into bed next to you, turned off the lamp, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You allowed yourself to relax into the embrace, brain still a little fuzzy from the alcohol. The silence stretched on, both of you wide awake but reluctant to speak.

“Work has been hell, Y/N,” he finally admitted under the cover of night, finger rubbing circles absentmindedly into your upper arm, “I was taking on so much that I barely felt human anymore.”

Your eyes had yet to adjust to the darkness, but you still turned to look at him regardless. You could just about make out the bridge of his nose, and a few hairs that had refused to gel down properly.

“I know it’s not an excuse,” he continued, “but it’s my explanation for my distance. I was so caught up in trying for a promotion, working my ass off to provide for you, that I didn’t notice I wasn’t providing for you in any other way.”

Turning, you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady heartbeat pick up a little from the contact. It was true, almost every waking minute Nanami had been working. His grip tightened protectively, pushing you closer to his body, relishing in the warmth your body provided. He sniffed, and you could’ve sworn that you saw a tear roll down.

“You’re my everything, Y/N. I don’t know what I would be without you. You make my black and white world technicolor, vivid with possibilities I never even imagined.”

His lips tenderly pressed against your temple, moving to pepper across the rest of your face, drawing a giggle out of you. This was a side to Nanami you had never seen, and you didn’t interrupt in fear it would dishearten him from continuing.

“Seeing you like this, it really changed my perspective on things. I’m not just here to make money for you, I’m here to love you, protect you, cherish you like I promised in our vows.”

His face hovered over yours, and you could just about see the glint of his irises gleaming back at you.

“It’ll take me some time, but please don’t give up on me, on us. Please never feel like I could feel anything other than unyielding love for you.”

Cupping your cheek, you could feel the cool metal of his wedding band on your skin. You cupped his hand with your own, interlocking fingers, tears forming again. Only this time, they weren’t sad.

“I love you, Y/N. I have loved you, I do love you, and I forever will love you.”

“I love you too, Kento. I couldn’t give up on you if I tried.”

Drawing closer, you could practically feel the smile on his face, just before he pressed his lips onto your own.

“Good. I’ll never give you a reason to try again.”

#✮ — desirekento #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #nanami #nanami x reader #nanami angst #nanami fanfic #jjk kento #kento x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk angst #jjk fanfic

329 notes · View notes