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nanamism28 · 5 months ago

Text

Omg

Heaven - N.K.

Synopsis. An aIpha? Please, your arranged husband was the perfect gentleman - soft, strong, shy to even look your way and- and damn feraI when he’s in rút?

Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, secretly aIpha! Nanami, arranged marriage, OMÉGAVERSE AU, rúts, down bad Nanami, bréeding kínk, he’s FÉRAL, manhandIing, face-sítting (fem rec.), dúmbifícation, HEADLOCKS, making it fit, matíng presses, office s, breaking furniture, overstím, knots, matíng bites, cúmplay, very pússydrúnk Nanami, proposals, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.2k

A/N. BAD BOYS BRING HEAVEN TO YOUUU-

“Ijichi, I’m at the front desk- where’s everyone else?”

After marrying Nanami Kento, it wasn’t strange for you to become accustomed to visiting him at work - usually with one of your own business contracts, or a cute lil’ lunch for him and his bustling employees.

But what was strange was the hollow, empty company lobby that greets you today.

The reception, the cubicles, the elevator- you couldn’t find a single soul here other than you. Strange.

“...e-evacuated.”

“What?” You’re furrowing your brows at the static squeak of a reply from your phone, footsteps echoing like thunder down the familiar pathway to the head office. Hissing– “Why? Is Kento okay-”

“M-more than okay, ma’am.” Your husband’s personal assistant scrambles out urgently, “He’s actually ah- y-you’ll see what I mean…” As Ijichi rapidly ends the call with its beeping tone, your hands brush the looming steel doors of Nanami’s office.

What the hell did he mean? Fingers itching to just open–

And that’s when you smell it. Sweet.

Oh.

Oh…fuck.

The single, slivering waft of fragrance rams into you like five semi-trucks and leaves you reeling- needily grappling for the door handle when your knees knock together and weaken. Holding on for dear life, “Wh-what the…”

And there was your first mistake, accidentally - or perhaps subconsciously - stealing a deep, breathy inhale of the saturated air seeping from underneath Nanami’s looming office door.

It fills your lungs and makes you jolt. Makes you gasp at the fever of your body, drinking in even more, more, more—

Your tongue sizzles with a fresh syrupy layer of drool at the musky cologne of it, more heady than any other perfume you’d ever smelt. More expensive. Like the filthiest marriage between bourbon, underlying caramel, and something so-

-so Nanami. In…rut?

But wait, your hazy eyes widen, and you’re forced to shake your head clear enough to continue the thought. It was the smell of an alpha no matter how much you looked at it - this couldn’t be your husband, right?

Sure, you two had been married for a few months already - but the man hadn’t even kissed you let alone touched you to consummate the marriage, yet.

Hell, you still found his chiselled cheekbones tinting with a light veil of pretty red whenever you simply smiled at him.

Always adorning those scent patches to cover his pheromones, and never letting out a word of his secondary gender. Though, your husband always did make sure to tend to your every need during your heats - every need except those, that is.

Perhaps it was as unconventional of a marriage as could be - what with both your parents choosing to merge companies through familial bonds, but you didn’t know that Nanami was an alpha.

An alpha.

The words clang through your very bones and send sparks of electricity skittering down your spine, you’re squeezing your trembly thighs together only to find that they’d started dampening with a shiny sheen of slick already.

Oh- so this is why everyone in the company was hastily evacuated.

He was potent.

And he was aching for your touch– your skin hums with something sinful as you rap your knuckles on the door, and try not to utter a peep.

“Ijichi, I already told you to leave.”

That didn’t sound like your husband.

It sounded like anything but; a low, curdling growl of husky baritone that made your heart race stupidly fast. There was something so primal seeping into Nanami’s characteristically gentle voice - never raised, never sharpened at you.

But right now he sounded like he would’ve devoured you alive.

And you wanted to see it.

Nanami knew he shouldn’t be here- fuck, he shouldn’t have let it gone this far.

But one flutter of your lashes - just one gorgeous smile you’d sent his way this morning - and he found himself like this. Shit, he hadn’t even kissed you yet, and you already drove him wild.

One hand furiously pumping his rock- no, diamond-hard cock, the other digging into his drawer for more of those damn suppressants as if searching for a lifeline.

“C’mon.” He’s grunting, crumpled forehead beading with glittery sweat the longer his aching, swollen length throbbed in the clouded air. Looking through his unruly golden bangs, his sensory tips scour desperately, “C’mon c’mon c’mon c’mon-”

Only to pop one of the last prescription bottles open and find it fucking empty.

“Fuck!” Nanami’s throat decorates with a knot of veins as his plump, blushed tip leaks with yet another thick clump of precum. He needed you, and no amount of creeping his rugged palms up n’ down his girthy shaft would ever come close to how you might have done it.

How he dreams it.

Boiling hot ears popping as the fat of his thumb roams over his bawling divot to plug it up, he barely even hears the office door opening and slamming shut.

He loosens his tie and tries not to muddy his senses with the smell of the beta man, taking everything in Nanami to not just snap– “Ijichi- I f-fucking said-”

“Don’t even recognize your wife, Kento–?”

Nanami snaps his head up, eyes wide. Glazed.

And you think it takes him a full few seconds to register that it was actually you here and not some lecherous figment of his imagination.

Although you were starting to doubt that he was, too.

Such a sexy picture with his favorite blue shirt unbuttoned, pants unzipped just enough, one of his hands white-knuckling the glinting ‘CEO NANAMI’ table nameplate.

But what really drew your eyes was his massive cock - all hard n’ swollen and aching, the prettily rounded top cherry-pink. Right about nine or ten inches of bulky girth pulsing so hard that even you could see it from this distance.

Oh…he really did have big dick energy.

And he was drooling - drooling, you never thought you’d see the day where Nanami Kento drools - through great heaving gusts of gulps. His voice croaks out huskily as if disused for eons, “M-my love, why a-are you…”

Ah, it feels like your satiny blouse clings to you even tighter with Nanami’s rough tonality. And it takes everything in you to stop yourself from taking even a step closer like the betweens of your legs ached to, “Ken.”

“O-oh.” He’s immediately throwing his head back with a groan- and you don’t know where to ogle. The way his slightly plumpened lips drop with a drawled drag of your name, or the way that he’s lifting over a hand to cradle the globed top of his mushroom head to stop himself from cumming.

Failing.

His teeth gleam with slobber, ripping viciously into one of his forearms in an instant – hot crimson trickling out ever-so-slightly.

The attractive column Nanami’s throat bobs with the movements of his Adam’s apples as he simply pours out sultry streaks of cum. Creamy white stripes upon stripes that start dangling all the way from his sturdy wrist down to the puffy leather of his seat. Bucketloads, really.

And you find your mouth almost as wet as the sappy puddle leaking through his business suit, opening to-

“Don’t.” He’s rasping out, slouching his body forward to cover his adoring view of you - as if the mere sight of you would be enough to send him over the edge once more. Octaves higher, crazed. “Don’t s-say my name like that.”

Your goosebumps peek at the tremble in his bass, a strange thrill sprinting through your body. Experimentally, you’re exhaling out, “Ken.”

“Fuh-fuck.”

And through the cervices of his thick, wrapped digits, you’re catching the sight of that buttery mess of cum grow even more voluminous. Squeezing a few more filthy dredges out of him - truly from the way you said his name.

“You- you’re evil, darling.” He’s heaving out in strained syllables, body hunched over to pressurize his still-throbbing erection.

The cracked corner of Nanami’s dewy eyes hone in on you as you slowly - uncertainly - take a step closer. And ever-so-sensually, he cranes over to beckon you with one of his stray hands, “C’mere, my wife.”

Shit, you couldn’t make your way over fast enough.

And he’s snickering something gruff underneath his breath the few times you’re tripping over your own unsteady feet.

Your clammy palms eventually stick on either side of his plastic chair, and the towering man gladly manspreads to provide your hips with a place to rest on. Straddling his meaty thighs - that aching red cock between them - with your hands curling ‘round his perspired neck.

The scent of his pheromones were so thick here that it was leaving your mind pathetically dizzy, all expensive cologne and caramel sweetness for you.

“S’this okay?” He’s hissing through a snarling bite of his lower lip once your snug pencil skirt hikes up just enough to snaggle the globed curve of Nanami’s cockhead.

“Kento-” You decide to go easy on him just this once. Raising a hand to just start peeling that scent patch you usually had on during a workday, “-why don’t you let me help, baby–?”

One calloused hand comes to stop you right in your tracks, the flat of his doughy thumb coming to caress your wrist gently back n’ forth. And not only was Nanami burning hot - he was scalding, heat radiating off of him in waves. “Because…if I start now m’gonna hah- break you, my love.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck. So that was why - and looking into the molten peripherals of his stare, you’re realizing that that was why he’d avoided every kiss, every touch, every heat.

But seated and with him at your mercy like this, you hadn’t ever wanted anything more.

“What if…” You hum suggestively, bottom lip pouting out in a way that makes him collar drench with sweat. Pushing back with a roll of your hips that sets Nanami’s pearly whites on edge, murked breath drifting against his ears, “-I didn’t mind, Ken?”

And one of his hands has to clasp around the corner of his mahogany desk until it shatters, splinters of wood hitting the floor with a dull thud! thud! thud! that synchronizes with your heartbeat.

“Do- do you know what you’re asking?” He’s graveling out between pants.

“I do.”

And Nanami Kento will never know whether it was the way you’d echoed those two words directly from your wedding, or the way your gorgeous eyes shined with such need - but he’s never found himself moving faster. Swifter.

So feral when he’s slipping you off his lap and shoving you down onto the sleek, frigid surface of the desk in two precise flaps of your lashes.

“Oh–!” Your shocked lips let off sweetly once Nanami’s soft palm cushions your face, he didn’t let you feel a single ounce of the striking impact of being laid out all on your front.

Not a single thing except for the burn of your scent patch being pulled off of you with his sluggish fingers. Leaning down so his straight nosebridge hits the crook of your neck and sniffs– savoring—

“Fuck. Fuck.” Your husband spills out gutturally into your skin, and you feel the sharpened edges of his teeth coasting nibbles down your throat. He was pushed into you so close that he could practically taste your sweetly candied fragrance, “My wife…my omega–”

You’re thinking that he probably doesn’t even realize the way he’s rutting and rutting his hips repeatedly into yours, flinching bodily at even the slightest recoil that has Nanami’s curvaceous bulge breaking off even mere inches from your sodden panties.

The wailing whimpers escaping you are so adorable that he just can’t help but suckle his mouth down your own.

And it’s not the first kiss with Nanami that you might’ve expected - it’s sloppy, wet, and nothing more than the lazy drag of his unfastened mouth tasting like his favorite gummy. Slapping his tongue along the splattered speckles of saliva homing themselves near the edges of your lips, “So sweet- soooo much fuckin’ sweeter than I ngh- dreamt.”

Before you can ask what that meant, he’s humming along a few more wet slurps of French kisses. Leaving your lips tingling for more as he pecks down, down, down back to your swollen scent glands.

“Wanna know- why I- bought a candle that smells like- mmm honey, darlin’?” He’s whispering against that sensitive patch of skin, watching as your half-opened eyes dart to the inconspicuous candle that was always settled on top of his desk. “Because it reminded me of you-”

But Nanami wasn’t done- oh, he wasn’t done.

You could almost feel the intensity of his leering grin quivering up at the edges, your restlessly squirming hips being pinned down with his tense core.

“-and…” He’s letting his strained voice peter away into nothingness.

Biting down on the salivating insides of his cheeks, Nanami pushes his sagging glasses up to take a good, looong final look at the way you’re so prettily splayed out for him like this.

Before bending at the knees–

“-and her.”

You’re just about to ask your husband what he meant when he shows you exactly what he meant.

Diving in completely nose-deep to gift your clothed pussymound with a loving peck, the very tip of Nanami’s pert button nose shines with a beaded dollop of your slick. Slipping and travelling all down to where he glides his tongue along his lips greedily–

“K-Kento–” You hiccup out as his hypnotic scent grows twofold, the very hits of it targeting your very core.

“Oh.” Nanami moans at the feeling of you instinctively getting wetter ‘round his mouth, you were so sensitive for him that your saturated lips were already rendering your panties see-through. A sappy drivel of sweet, sweet juices slicking your thighs like glue, “Darling, you’re droolin’ e-everywhere.”

The very crown of his index comes to trace the snaking rivers of slick decorating your legs, sensually. Signing off the cutest hearts and ‘K’s where you were the most tender-

“S’this for me?” He’s tap-tap-tapping his generous digit on the folds of your leaking pussy, tittering when you jolt with every lurid contact. “Pretty girl, are ya this- hck! wet for me?”

Just then he leaves a full-handed, five-fingered spank straight down your slippery slit - ripping out the rawest, most moistened sluuuurp–! of gushing sap from your core. And Nanami takes this as the perfect answer, “Mhm, you are.”

“P-please, baby-”

“That’s it that’s it—” He’s nuzzling your thighs now - as if he was worshipping you. Scorched breezes of his mouth hitting you from just a few centimeters away, his glands rub up against your body and leave you completely smelling like his. You feel his drool smear as he babbles on, “-tell me. Talk to me.”

Your hips buck helplessly, “Want- want you to touch me there, Kento.”

“Where?” He knows- fuck, he knows. But he needs to hear the words directly from your beautiful mouth.

And ah, what a sight it is to be able to see them from up on his knees - twisting and puckering around the words of “Want you to touch my ngh- pussy-”

Barely out of your mouth, barely even formulated before Nanami surges up his humid face and snogs right up into your dripping cunt.

Mazing tip dragging away the flimsy, useless scrap of fabric you call your panties, he’s treating the pursed lips of your pussy like a lollipop. Skimming the ridges of his tastebuds riiiight along your slope and back, “So- so hot on my tongue- ngh. So sweet.”

It’s like a mantra he’s spitting out every time his pointed chin whacks the tippy-top base of your cunt, your neck flaring with rays of pheromones that make Nanami grunt.

Jaw unfastening, his mouth drips open with the gluey remnants of your sap. “Can you ngh- feel it?” Opened wide enough that you could feel his hot maw engulfing all of you - every ribbony ounce of slick that puddled at the back of his throat. “Feel me- hah, can’t fucking get enough.”

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, Ken–” Your head dangles back, clawing towards the distant end of his table to hold onto your sanity. “-m-more.”

“More…m-more?”

Fuck- you didn’t realize that Nanami was this pussydrunk.

His husked baritone was lilting sooo much higher in volume and pitch that it made your head all fuzzy just to consider who this was.

Hell, the man has to nip his teeth ‘round a frilly edge of your underwear and bite so that he can keep it all together. Right palm creeping back down, down to his aching cock-

And the other one of his hands paws depravedly at the plush of your dampened thighs to keep them open, he huffs out a breath into your glossy fluttering lips. “More…my wife wants more.” And it hurt- ohhh, it hurt him so much to move himself even the tiniest distance away from where he was closest to your teary pussy.

Declaring a temporary goodbye with a prolonged sniff at the saccharine scent of your entrance, he’s craning his heavy head back up to you. “Spit.”

Your breath catches, inner omega crooning. “Wh-what?”

“Spit.” And before you know it, a hand darts out to smush your puffed cheeks easily together. The mean ovals of his sensory tips digging into your flesh, it’s enough to make you whine. “Spit in my mouth, my love.”

Slowly, stupidly you do - right smack-dab onto the wide plane of Nanami’s tongue and it makes him groan, hands squeezing ‘round his drenched base.

A thin line of it overspills from the side of his lips; and your husband’s crooning coaxingly at you to wrench open your slick-stucken legs further open before he gifts a steady wad of saliva over your sloppy hole.

Brushing his thumb over the lines of juices that stick to your panties, Nanami bites the edges of his glinting teeth into the side and riiiiips–! it off of you in a nanosecond.

“K-Ken, what are you- oh mmpf–!”

You’re mewling, pearly tears shattering your vision just as soon as his plump, velvety lips immediately latch to your clit and suck. The handsome hollows of his cheeks cushioning your sensitive bundle of nerves, it’s all it takes for you to throw your head back and clench.

“Open- need these legs hah- open-” He’s hissing into your cunt, the vibrations of his voice making your poor clit buzz. And shit, does Nanami enjoy the viscid globs of slick this makes you let out, pumping his vein-covered shaft angrily.

“Can’t–” Your moans were his favorite song, coloring the tips of his ears all innocently pink. “-can’t even feel my n-ngh legs!”

Cooing from down under, “Awww, need me to h-hold ‘em, my wife?” It’s only a few roaring heartbeats before you feel one of his palms shuffle underneath your knees to keep them pliably steady. Scuttling you further down his table- “S’alright, s’alright m’here.”

“K-Kento.”

“Tha’s riiiight, Kento’s here.” Suddenly your hit with a wave of relaxing pheromones once the very rounded berry tip of his digit comes rovering across your outer pussy. Collecting shimmering gumdrops of slick to plop into his mouth, “Kento’s here- so be a good girl n’ let your husband take care of it allll, darlin’.”

He’s swivelin’ the chilling band of his wedding ring around your rubbery hole, stretching and stretching until you’re gulping down every solid inch.

And if Nanami’s fingers were this long n’ girthy, it made your mouth water to think of how long he might be down there.

“Oh- you’re so g-good, can feel you in so so deep.”

Nearly five or six inches probing your gummy walls all the way down to his pointed knuckles, you hiccup every time his perfectly manicured fingernail scraped the mushy patch of your g-spot. “Please- please, baby- J-just a lil’ more.”

“Fuck! Gonna be the d-death of me…” His breath tickles the crevice of your bloated pussylips, the slimy fringe of his tongue wanders over with a last few rolls on top of your hooded clit. Sticking right where you were bulging with his barreling finger to bully dually inside, “Gonna- gonna.”

And he’s stretching you out with both his tongue and a second finger.

Pulling your soft hole taut around the circumference of both eager appendages, Nanami bustles just a few inches of his fingers inside before he curls them into the roof of your cunt and makes you yelp.

“S-so close—” Your words come out botched through tears and whines and your cunt, “Wan’ you to h-hit it- oh my god, please.”

A fatly syrupy dewdrop of sap treacles out of you, which Nanami spits out gladly back into where you were leaking the most. “H-heh, she’s talkin’.” Squelch after squelch after squelch drawn out every time he’s crashing his tongue to tug your snug channel even wider. He’s even slowing down the filthy fapping motions of his hand just to hear you louder. “Sh-she’s talking t’me- ngh! Oh, hellooo– ya want me to t-touch this g-spot, my wife?”

You’re bubbling out spitballs of answers but all of it is drowned out by every waterlogged pump - more like thrashes. Hits piled upon hits that leave your velvety walls all bruised with the circular outlines of his two, no, now three rummaging fingerpads.

“S’that right, hmm–?” Not even talking to you at this point - but with your pussy. He nods his unsteady, blushing features, “Y-you want me to oh…”

Just then, his fingers are so lengthy that Nanami accidentally cruises a direct hit to your g-spot without even trying.

It makes your heated insides squeeze around his digits, laminating every patch of skin from rotund fingertip to pale knuckles with all your frothy juices. Head tumbling back, “Th-there. There there there- Ken–!”

“Here- here.”

He’s rasping out with every breath, every whack into the tenderized area where your g-spot was targeted. Pumping and pumping- shit, Nanami’s so gone on your pussy that he’s letting go of his pulsating shaft to latch onto your hips and make you grind back into his face.

In long, slobbering drags that rub your folds raw on his attractive features, his broad chest wheezes after every one of your swervin’ gyrations.

You clench your legs, ruffling the strands of his usually-tide blond hair, and he’s only pushing your thighs together snugger. Grunting throatily, “Don’t even need hah- air when I’ve got her.”

“I-I’m close–” You’re trilling out, your nails digging deeply into the firm wood of the table. “Not gonna- ngh- last.”

“S’that sooo—” Already feeling the curve of his sleazy grin on your swollen lips, it’s as if he now can’t decide between flopping his tongue inside to tugging your perked, pretty clit. “S’she sayin’ the ngh- same thing?” Planting a particularly harsh thrust of his fingers to make your cunt quiver with a slurp, “She is. Cum f’me then- cum all over my face, darlin’.”

And you don’t just cum, you’re making such a mess.

Your hips twistin’ to push back and ride the sharp ridge of Nanami’s nose back and forth back and forth back and forth. Every snaggling catch of his fingers on your g-spot makes your toes arch adorably, your sweat-simmered spine following.

“M’cum- hngh- fuck! M’cumming, Ken.”

“H-heh, I knowww–” Nanami feels his chubby tip twitch at the use of that lil’ nickname again, weighty balls pulsing to the very same rhythm as your cunt was right now. He’s letting out a carnal voicing of your name as he hits your g-spot deeply. “-she told me, my love.”

Ears popped, you’re barely even catching his lecherous words. The mosaic of your vision blotching with pure stars like they did in cartoons, heavy tears coating your cheeks. It just felt too good.

And, ah, just because you’d reached your waves of bliss - was riding through those peaks upon peaks of euphoria with every passing second - didn’t mean that Nanami was going to stop.

In fact, he’s throwing his free hand tighter around your waist and pinning you dead-on onto his face, the lashing tip of his tongue drawing out more n’ more zips of white-hot electricity from your core. He was still eating you out like a man starved.

Rendering you speechless, you cry– “Wait- wait wait wait, I-I’m so sensitive.”

“Good.”

Purposefully murmured with his spit-slicked lips wrapped precisely ‘round your throbbing clit, you’re pounding your fist down on top of the office table until its hinges ricket.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Until it stops just as soon as it started when Nanami catches the knob of your clit with his sharpened canines and bites. And then you shriek, then you see white, then you’re squirting - right down onto your husband who gapes.

“I-it feels so wet.”

“Go on—” He’s coaxing the torrenting sprays out of you with every curled thrash of his fingers, grinning. Wild. “Go on go on go on, make a mess. M-make a mess f’me.”

Splashing right onto the apples of his cheekbones, he’s flapping his eyes half-shut so that you’re drenching him all your juices.

Your maw slacking open as your second orgasm is pulled out of you, body wracking with sensitivity, “Please- p-please.” Your glassy pupils swirl in the exact dumbified circles as he was tracing on your clit, “-Ken.”

But even that special name of his doesn’t reel Nanami Kento out of his stupor.

He’s so pussydrunk, so addicted to making out with every squirting splosh of your pussy that he’s overstimulating you stupid. Slurping it up in viscid, eloooongated noises which ring across all four walls and into the pheromone-fogged air.

He thinks he could cum from this, he’s so close to cumming from just this.

Seemingly forever before Nanami leaves a final slap! of the flat underside of his mushy wet muscle on your leaking slope. Cheeks hollowing with a final sluuuuuurp–!

At least, it was meant to be final.

But even as he’s unlatching himself, the alpha can’t bring himself not even six inches away from your spilling pussy before he presses back in with a pained growl. Snarl bared, eyes drooping- once. Twice. Thrice.

“Can’t- can’t-” He’s rumbling out, smoky, and you sense his scent start to grow addicted all over again. Lurching you with a thorough repeated tugs to smooch your cunt some more, Nanami emits a narrowed breath through every kiss. “Can’t move- ngh- fuck.”

“Kentooo—” Your lips flap with the salted flavor of your own tears, trying (and failing) to move onto your tip-toes and remove yourself from your husband’s relentless mouth. Head turned to him, “I-I want you to fuck me, baby.”

And Nanami flinches. Breathing out a ragged, “T-to what?”

You’re blinking your tears back from your dilated irises, lips almost too wobbly to drag out the words. “To fuck- mmpf–!”

SLAM!

You don’t know if the thundering noise is from the way you’re slammed horizontally back onto your front, or the way that Nanami smashes his open palm down right beside your lolling head.

Fingertips twitching, yearning for but a single graze of your face. You’re left helpless as all his Herculean muscles come pinning down your greedy body - firmer and firmer until he’s practically melting into you.

He was so big.

All eight mounds of his washboard abs peeking through his torn button-up and sliiiiding down your spine. Hips pressing down on hips, scent glands brushing against yours. You still had your thin satin blouse on, and yet you could count each n’ every hammer of his roaring heartbeat.

“Watch what you s-say.” Nanami warns, the points of his teeth nibbling along where your perfume was emanating out in clouds and bursts. Needy needy needy.

And so pretty.

“Wh-why?” You huff out, barely given the opportunity to even think of pouting until Nanami seemingly reads your mind and sinks his own teeth into the flesh. Draaaaagging.

“Because-” Faintly, you’re feeling one of his hands straily lumber down to where his ravaged cock was sobbing. The stout end of his knobbled thumb comes to plug up his leaking orifice as Nanami’s teeth scrape your throat. Lips pulled into a snarl, “-m’got gonna fuck you like a gentleman, my wife.”

His words were dangerous. Savage.

Looking the part, too; flushed, intense eyes all half-lidded, curtained partly by his thick blond bangs. And Nanami was glistening with the wettened remnants of your juices, all the way from the blushing apples of his cheeks to drip! drip! drip! in a translucent polish down his sharp jawline.

For the moment, you and your omega are almost rendered soundless - almost.

“Prove it, Ken.”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Nanami doesn’t know whether it’s the rut or those words or simply you that make his heavy, fat cock flinch in one hand. That makes him throw his head back with a groan, that makes him grind his hips deeper into yours as he cums–

“Move this-” His trembling fingers clutch urgently around where your skirt was still hanging off of your hips. Well, not for long before he’s tearing it clean off. And then follows your blouse, your bra. “Move.”

Right in time for the glittering folds of your pussy to be showered in a thick topping of his creamy white seed. The pointed mound of his tip is frosting out such candied knots of sap that cling to your leaky pussylips - so much.

You’re whimpering at the scalding hot cum that sploshes down the rim of your entrance, dripping. Leaking. “Ken- o-oh my god did you just–”

“Shut up-” He’s snarling out, trying to muffle out the animalistic tonality in his voice but fuck, does he fail. You’re turning him into more of a damn beast than a man with the way your parched pussy quavers to swallow up his glossy droplets.

One of his stocky fingers come up to smear the webbed mess of it on your outer cunt and push it in– “Shut up n’ take it. S’all y-yours anyway, darlin’.”

Before you can untrap your maw from the substantial gloopy-like texture of your spittle, Nanami slouches his weight over your squirming body. Massive, veiny hands rested on either side of your head, he sliiiiides his still-agitated, rock-hard length between your puffed-up folds.

Making sure you feel every single one of his zig-zagging veins from reaching from his tawny golden happy trail down to where he was pinpricking your clit with his thickset cockhead. Over and over.

“All of it.” Nanami whispers eventually, as your driveling hole oils his girth with enough layers of sap that it oozes down onto the office floor.

His sweltering pants making your bodyhairs stand on end, you shiver a single one of his palms slither down to cup your tummy. Somewhere along the way, he draws a burning invisible line about halfway across your body.

And you’re not granted even the chance to ask what he’s seemingly measuring out before a stubby, splittening caress between your jittery legs makes you see stars.

“All- all- of it s’ngh yours– s’got your n-name on it. Yours.” Nanami’s keening out with a raspy tone above the sloppy squelches that immediately start pouring out of your wet pussy. Restraining a firm grip on the curve of your hips to hold you still while he reels back and pushes and pushes– “Every. Single. Inch.”

He was so big that he was spearheading you with every single of his ten inches, too.

Pushing your eyes all the way to the backs of your head with the spheroid crown of his fat, bulbous tip. Every tiny buck makes you streeeeetch around the incredible roundness of his circumference, rubbin’ and rubbin’ your drooling entrance with his veiny shaft.

“Heh, we’re consummatin’ our marriage, my wife.”

“O-oh my–” Your mindlessly squealing pitch breaks, squeezing your silky walls to hug his head. “-it’s so- it’s so.”

“With ngh- just the tip, huh, my love?”

And as cute as it was that you’re pushing back and trying to run away from his relentless pursuit, Nanami doesn’t have the patience right now.

Just barely hanging on with enough sanity to dig his hand thoroughly enough to bruise your poor hips, the slicked sweat of his palm dampening your skin. “Wh-whaaat–?” With a quick, shocking spank on the right side of your ass cheek, he’s traaaawling you over like you were nothing but a pretty lil’ toy. “S’it to h-hah big?”

“It- it’s so…”

You were already proving his point without even speaking. He was just so big that his core flexes with sharp, jutting strikes just to fit inside you, hissing with every recoiling resistance of your tight entrance.

You’re moaning ridiculously after every pulverizing glide that makes his probing cockhead push even deeper. A sliver of sweat trickles down the side of Nanami’s temple and hits your back in a splat!

Darting up onto your unsteady elbows, you restlessly try to fuck back into his ruthless cadence. “Please- please, baby. More.”

He tilts your face up to scorch it with a few promises, “I’ve got it- Kento’s got you.” Smacking a hand ‘round your arched throat - manhandling you into a fucking headlock, your husband urges you to sink your teeth into his heated flesh.

“Bite. Bite n’ you’re gonna take more, m’kay?” Nanami’s whispering out like a mantra, pulling you to crash your lips with his own stern ones. “Like a good girl- like my g-good girl.” His other arm softly thumbing along the outlined tummy bulge he was fucking into you, “More more more more more- Want more- y-you’re gonna get it- ohhh, you’re gonna get it.”

The sudden change in angle makes the stinging mounds of your ass hit Nanami’s sharp pelvis with a sharp thwack! Bottoming out.

“Good girl.” He utters, sounding like a man crazed. The sensitive skin of your glands roast with a lazy lick, cold metal of his glasses slipping down until they kiss your skin. “O-ohhhh good giiiirl l-look at you taking it like a- like a champ. Kissin’ me from th-the inside, my omega.”

And the only thing you can moan are softly gasping ohs! and yes! again and again as his bulging biceps tighten around your neck, pounding the goopy ends of your cunt with a firm hit.

All with swollen, long inches.

Nanami was so fucking massive that he was kissin’ your sweetest, most tender spots without even trying. Just the massage of his plumply swollen veins over them make your mouth slobber, counting in your head each lightning bolt - about eight of them.

And Nanami? Nanami was falling apart.

He was slurring out mix n’ matches of syllables that resembled your name every time your heavenly, hot innards were clenching around his capped crown like a vice.

“Y-you feel so good, Ken.” You’re calling out as his toned hips position underneath your ass cheeks to push against you until you were almost dangling in midair. “In s-soooo deep.”

“Yeah? Yeah?” He’s wheezing out with a speckling pinpricks of cum from before and a few fresh spurts swashing all over your base. Your knees buckle as he hooks his chin over your shoulder and presses in, “Keep those p-pretty eyes open, okay, my love? Wanna see you watch- ngh- watch me fill ‘er up, m’kay?”

It’s all you can do to nod to his crazed whims, darting your eyes down to where Nanami was pushing on the base of your spine to make you arch curvaceously.

Straining against the swollen flex of his biceps, oh, you were burnishing his tannish skin with gluey flecks of drool. Stupidly babbling, oh-so-dumb on his massive size. “Wh-where–?”

“Here-” He thwacks his mushy, ruby-red tip in a splurge against your g-spot, “Here- here- and here.” Three repeated times to make you lose your mind just as much as he was, “S’yours. All yours, my wife.”

“All mine. Ngh– mine, Ken.” You echo, your vision blurring at the sheer force that he was pushing into these thrusts. Hell, his own bulked hilt was rubbing raw and red with the slamming impacts.

“Yeah take it. Take it, aaaatta girl.”

His pace was filthy - it was feverish. Head drooping, eyes shuttering.

And a slimy winding river of slobber was starting to fall from Nanami’s curved grin every time he’s getting so fucking drunk on your pussy. Body scorching, neck aching for you to take him take him take him–

“Kento- oh!”

It only takes two accurate swings of his grip to flip you laid onto your back when his veiny cock pulled out.

Important documents fluttering about, this time you’re getting a goood look at Nanami Kento, your husband.

Glasses completely fogged and dangling, his drenched-through shirt barely hanging off of his broad shoulders, pants discarded somewhere along the line to bare you with the sheeny expanse of his muscular thighs. Nothing of the gentleman you once knew.

Thick clumps of saliva spatter as he cranes his head down to you and growls, glassy hazel eyes at you through the rare gaps in his blond bangs.

Your inner omega simply purrs at the glinting sharpness of his elongated fangs, the sensitive splotches on your neck stinging with the primal urge to be bitten.

Nanami’s nose crinkles at the oversaturation of sweet, sweet pheromones, his own coming out in response. And a generous helping of saliva ribbons out onto your front with a splat! splat! splatter! and he only adds to the sleek mess by slapping his weighty, extended length between your pussylips and gawking as creamy pre puddles.

Scratching out, “M’gonna fuck ya pregnant, darlin’. Just s-say the ngh- word.”

“Kento-” Boneless arms slipping around his burning neck and lugging his hulking body even closer, “-please.”

And that’s all it takes.

All it takes for something in Nanami to snap. All it takes for him to hastily align his leaking mushroomed tip with your trembling hole and ram you full all the way to your cervix again. Cratering a French kiss there, deep.

So big that he was digging into every adhesive-slicked mass of your walls, probing and probing until your snug cunt was pulled to your limits.

To your whining impatience, he doesn’t move immediately - instead, you jaw gapes as he’s taking the time to lean down and kiss that round, cylindrical tummy bulge he was fucking into you. Soft lips skittering right over where his bulged tip was hitting, “M’gonna m-make you round n’ glowing, my omega.”

Before you know it, rugged palms slither down the underside of your thighs and fold you like a lawnchair. And into- fuck, a mating press.

A mating press.

The realization seems to strike Nanami at the very moment it strikes you - even though he was literally the one manhandling you into this pliable position. The dimples on his chin quivering as if he couldn’t fucking believe he had his lil’ wife bent like this for him.

And the base of his thickened cock swells. Close.

All the breath leaving his full lungs, “S-so pretty.” Every syllable followed by a harsh plap! of skin-on-clammy-skin. Every syllable. He holds your thrashing legs easily apart, “So pretty a-and wet n’ m’gonna make her even wetter. Wanna make her full- make her…oh.”

“Sh-shit–” You can palpably feel yourself growing even more damp at the way his chiselled, sharp muscles move and tense with each thrust. A hand moving down–

“Move that fuckin’ hand.”

It wasn’t even a command, and yet you find yourself hurrying to listen.

Watching with bated breath as his smoggy, pussydrunk eyes rest on the copious glittering droplets of slick escaping your bulged pussylips, even past his girth. And he only smiles- “S’th-this f’me, darlin’? Alllll f’me–?” Greedily licking his lips, he gropes your tits. “This turns- hah! turns ya on, huh? Getting bred?”

Squealing, “Y-yessss– wan’ it so bad- want you so bad, Kento, please.”

“Hmm…boy or girl?”

“Wh-what?”

He’s only leaning down to rasp more gruffly against your eardrums, a behemoth of his palm patting down on the jiggling pouch inflating into your tummy. “Boy or girl?”

“G-girl.” You’re whimpering out mindlessly, pulse thundering even faster at the brilliant grin that splits across Nanami’s face.

“Mmm– was thinkin’ th-the exact same.” And that wasn’t just the rut talking. Nanami treks a hand to gift your clit with a pinch and chuckles darkly as you flinch, “Easy- easy there.” Still not letting up, still hugging every inch of his throbbing cock on your cunt. “Guess I’ll be the ngh- strict parent then, hm?”

And the zaps of electricity rushing to your brain are too much, his cadence, his pheromones - his rut. It’s all so much that with only a few more vulgar strikes to your battered, bruised g-spot your mouth gulps a dumbstruck “K-Ken, I’m–”

Not even getting out the sentence before you arch your back into a geometrical semi-circle and throw yourself into your nth high of the night.

The edges of your vision tinging with black, it’s all you can do to claw your nails in red, red trailways down Nanami’s muscular back. Feeling every muggily glissading muscle as he pounded you into the desk through every blissful peak.

“Ngh- o-oh, my l- fuck. Fuck fuck fuck–!” Nanami’s voice takes on a whiny tinge at the feeling of your scalding hot insides molding around his pillaging shaft. So tight that he had to bite his lip and push down on your tummy to pull out after every paced thrust. “S-shooo soft.”

Orgasm feeling like nothing more than tingles, your vision tinges like a black vignette once you’re ogling up at Nanami’s pretty, pretty face. “Ken- Ken”

He’s rubbing a heart over your sparking clit with love, “Yes, my love–?”

“Want it i-inside, Ken.” Mindlessly, your inner omega spurs you to teeth over the tense muscles of his neck - over that particular spot. Walls massaged raw every second, “Want you t-to cum all i-insiiide-”

“Patience.” It’s all he says before rovering his hand somewhere above your head on the flat table and grasping his favorite lucky yellow tie.

Before you can blink your tear-stained lashes, he loops it twice over your neck and ties - dragging you back with a simple pull of his bulky biceps. You look so pretty n’ helpless like this that he can’t help but feel his mouth water, spitting the excess between your kiss-swollen lips.

“P-promise not to miss?”

“Never. Wh-what did I tell you- s’all sh’alllll yours.”

Slurring. He couldn’t even speak properly - barely even breathing - before snapping his hips to yours so close that your tender pussymound scratches with his soaked-through tufts of tawn. Once. Twice. Before Nanami collapses on top of you and cums—

Your knees hitting your tits, legs shoved over his shoulders, ass stinging at the shaky jackhammer.

“T-taaake it. Take it n’ get p-pregnant. Get pregnant get pregnant get pregnant–” He whispers as thick, steamy hot cum starts pooling all the way into what feels like your gut. “Want it. Need it.”

Aching, swollen, almost painful sparks of white-hot pleasure running down his spine once he’s slamming a capped knee on top of the table and angling himself to pound and pound.

“Ngh- s-so much–” Your hips thrash, lungs heaving with the weight of his happy caramel scent. “-so much so- fuck.”

He spits into your hanging open mouth. “Ohh m’gonna make a mess of you.” And as he rests his towering body closer on top of yours, you can feel the way Nanami’s meaty thighs tremble delicately with every shooting jetstream of cum spraying inside your deepest parts. The fingers toying with your clit move to pinch your folds together, he prattles. “A-all inshide now.”

Oh, you look so pretty with your pussylips so swollen and leaky. Frothed right on top with an ivory coating of his sap that dips in and out. Moaning, “I-inside?”

“Mhmmm– I-I’m gonna be a papa- a papa. Gonna t-take care of her n’ you don’t hafta lift- lift a finger, my love. I’ll t-take care of the feedin’ n’ the late nights and- and…”

He was daydreaming right now and you were stunned.

“M’gonna b-brush her ngh- hair n’ you’re gonna dress ‘er up all pretty.” He’s babbling just as awe-struck as you, “A-and then you’ll- you’ll feed her breakfast I ngh- made n’ we’ll both take her to school. Spoil her- n’ ohhh she’s gonna look just like you w-with my eyes n’ she’s mine and-”

“A-and?”

“-yours.” Every declaration followed by the most determined of thrusts. One, two, three, four, five more dolloping streams of thick seed that glues to your walls and slips n’ slides straightly down your cervix. Your womb. “Y-yours. Yours yours yours y-ngh! Yours.”

Milking himself for you.

Nanami drills into you like he’s gone feral; that vice-like restraint around your throat stopping him from both biting into you just yet and helping him trawl you up n’ down to take every single drop.

It could’ve been hours, maybe even days before you find your now-shrilling voice once more.

“M-m’yours, too–” You’re whimpering out, gliding your hands through the sweat-matted valleys of his hair and pulling him.

But, of course, Nanami Kento loved to be used by his wife this way.

“N’ I wan’ your knot, Ken.” You bat your lashes, already having felt the massive, thick ring swelling around his base. Yet another particularly hard drive leaves you gasping, he was just so big– if you’d thought his normal hilt was wide, then this would stretch you until you were crazed. “Please?”

Ah, there it was.

That magical word.

And how could he ever say ‘no’ to his wife?

With a knobbly thumb hooked to your fucked-out entrance, he’s arching his back and squeeezing that incredible perimeter inside. It’s so damn large that he has to slouch back and gaze as his knot slaps and slaps your outer pussy.

Wisping out a few globules of buttery cum? Pre? Nanami didn’t even know anymore, just aware that he was sobbing from the purple plum-colored, split-end of his cock.

Canines bitten until he’s tasting metal, “Gonna take it- t-take it like a good girl. My ngh- good wife.” Nanami’s fighting to keep his weighted lids from falling shut, “Get you all plugged w-with my knot. S-so full you can’t even ngh- fit. Can’t even take anymore-”

“Yes, please- please give it t’me, Ken.” You’re scrambling on the table, left hand flapping away somewhere until he clings onto it and brings it up to his spit-soiled mouth.

Tenderly kissing the band of your wedding ring as his sloppy thumb pries apart your gluey-stuck folds and siiiiiiinks his knot in. Fully. Tightly.

And as soon as it’s all in, you’re blinking back nonsensical stars and angels in your vision - sobbing at the sheer stretch. It’s so raw, so filling having him be connected deeply inside, the tender skin of his ballsack flinching after every one of your squeezes.

Knot digging into your walls so thorough and hot.

And it’s as if for a second, your husband stops breathing.

Enough for you to ask, “B-baby, are you okay?”

“N-no.” Comes Nanami’s strained, cracking whisper of an answer. So hoarse you almost couldn’t hear it, “No.”

And there’s no warning before Nanami flinches - viscerally, animalistically to surge his face into the crook of your neck and bite. Hard enough to draw blood.

You let out a soundless scream, mouth dropping into the perfect oh! at the euphoric feeling of his jagged canines ripping into your scent glands. Scents melding and mixing and becoming one, it’s as if ten more orgasms hit you at full force.

And your husband - your mate - feels it, too.

Because the combined strength of his slamming pound and his fist on top of the table is so much that one of the sturdy mahogany legs breaks in half.

Sluggishly, your omega reminds you that it was your turn to reciprocate the possessive marking.

“Ken…” Being held up by none other than his tie blocking most of your airway, you lift your dizzy head enough to kiss the swollen gland where the whisked caramel was the most potent. Biting down as hard as your ruined body could, “-m-mine.”

At the sensation, he gasps–

“Marry me.” Hips driving sloppily into yours all over again and again and again even though the knot prevented him from doing anything more than swervin’ grinds. It’s like he won’t stop - can’t stop. The crimson-stained plumpness of his lips smear all over your mark, your ring, your lips. “Marry me marry me- be my wife?”

“Kentoo–” you giggle out, shortly out of breath as he accurately scratches your g-spot carnally once more.

His foggy, half-lidded eyes watch you closely as you interlink your left hands together and reach it up to his hazy line of vision. “We’re already married.”

“O-oh.”

And it seems he was genuinely so pussydrunk that it didn’t even register - couldn’t register doing anything but gyrating his v-line into you sensually. Slow, aching drags of his plump tip stirrin’ hearts out of your insides and the splashes of cum within.

Over and over, while Nanami takes off whatever remnants were left of his shirt and lays his head between the valley of your tits. Grabbing a sweet handful whilst he sucks like he was trying to draw milk out already.

Desk broken, air saturated.

And only once he feels his rounded knot softening the slightest bit, tugging himself out with a few lecherously slurping tugs, does he speak.

“S-s’a good thing our hck! company’s empty.” Nanami whispers, barely audible over the squelch! of his webbed mess of cum immediately flooding out of you. Raw white and messy. Depraved.

As you gasp, he’s cracking your legs open. Oh?

Kneeling down down down–

Oh.

The pinkish tip of Nanami’s tongue hits your overstimulated, weeping pussy with a damp thwack! “Because we’re celebratin’ our honeymoon in every room of this building, my wife.”

A/N. Mwahaha I told y’all alpha Nanami was next <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

13K notes · View notes

nanamism28 · 5 months ago

Text

take a bite!

he's a (blood)sucker for you

pairing: vampire!Suguru Geto x fem!reader

wc: 4.6k (hear! me!! out!!!)

content: MDNI, multiple povs, semi-public sex, oral (f! receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie, biting, blood, no use of yn, copious amounts of teasing and tension

"You have pretty eyes."

"Oh?" A pretty voice too, apparently.

You weren't usually the type to speak to strangers, let alone one who looked like him. Some sudden shift in the air had you peeking up from your book and glancing over to the dark-haired man now sitting on the worn couch across from you. Although, you weren't sure you could really blame anything except for your big mouth for the cheesy compliment you just accidentally paid him.

Shutting his own thick book with a soft thud, setting it on his lap while his gaze flickered over to you, the same way a cat assessed a mouse who happened to scamper in front of it. Long, lazy blinks, catching a glint of a sharp canine when he tugged down on his lower lip.

"Um, sorry if I interrupted-”

“Pretty, huh?” He repeated the word, making the two syllables somehow vulgar when it rolled off his tongue. All hushed and honeyed as he raked sturdy fingers through his dark hair, brushing back a few loose strands framing the sharp planes of his face.

“I, uh, wasn't trying to hit on you,” You mumbled, tearing your eyes away from him and struggling to focus back on the words floating across the page.

You were sure he was probably used to girls throwing themselves at them. Maybe you would if you were somewhere else, a club or a bar instead of your cozy corner of the library you frequented every week.

“That's disappointing,” He let out a small sigh, plucking a tiny piece of lint off the sleeve of his cream-colored sweater, leaning forward and propping his chin up in his palm.

“Is it?” You almost laughed, a smile flitting across your face when your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Did he really want you to flirt with him? Or would it just hurt his ego if you weren't?

“Mhm,” His lips were sealed, pressed together in a thin line, the noise coming from his throat.

You did laugh now, barely a giggle escaping while you shook your head and tried to resume reading for the second time tonight.

Suguru had other plans.

"It's a bit late," He coolly pointed out, the fine line of his jaw tilting as he nodded at the clock hanging off-center on the wall.

"Guess you could say I'm a night owl," You turned the page with a soft hum of your own.

His mouth curled up in a crooked smile.

"Me too.”

"I haven't seen you here before," You shrugged a little, your cardigan slipping down your shoulder with the motion, revealing a flimsy little strap of a tank top? A bra?

"Many people come back here?"

He already knew they didn't.

That was why you liked it. The seclusion. Sure, you didn't own it, and it wasn't a secret, but it was still a slice of sanctuary. One you'd accidentally lured him to smelling like that, the hints of plum and jasmine he could pick out in the sweet, intoxicating scent he found himself following through the stacks of books and empty aisles.

"You'd be the first," You answered honestly, absentmindedly running your finger along the edge of the page, just asking for a paper cut.

"I can leave, if you want," He offered, although he wasn't sure if he'd be able to follow through if you took him up on it. He'd like to think he would.

“Stay,” You simply said, accompanied by another little bob of your shoulders, tendons flexing in your throat with the single unsteady word. “If you want.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, making a point not to look up from your book. It was cute - your sincerity, your attempts at playing it cool.

“So,” He drawled, waiting for you to spare him a glance before continuing. “What do you like about them?”

“What?” Your voice came out higher than it had before, your eyes wide and glossy when they landed on his.

“My eyes.”

He could hear how hard your heart was pounding, feel it like it might as well been his own.

“Oh, um-” You swallowed, a nervous laugh escaping while you brought your hand up to your face, chewing on the edge of your manicure.

“Hm?”

A single syllable was really all it took for the heat to rise to your cheeks, painting them a pretty shade of pink, the pulse thrumming underneath your tauntingly thin skin picking up.

You hesitated, flustered under your furrowed brows, studying him instead of the book forgotten in your hands, a page still pinched between your fingers. "They're warm. It's, um, nice.”

Warm? Him?

What sort of embers did you see in him? The fire, his drive, that used to smolder underneath the surface had been snuffed out in a previous life - the emptiness of eternity drowning it out.

You were staring openly at him now. Or maybe he had been staring first. The glimmer of your lip gloss catching the light as you tilted your head to the side, crossing your legs a little tighter.

Clearing your throat in the thick silence, one hand falling from your book to pull down the hem of your too-short skirt, offering a polite smile like it'd hide the hunger underneath it. The arousal pooling in-between your thighs, the panties he'd like to tear off so he could get more than just a taste of you.

Could he stop himself there?

He wasn't Satoru.

Suguru had self control, his own rigid rules he resigned himself to subsist by. It would take more than just some girl to loosen the leash he kept tight around his own neck.

There were differences, in the consistency, the warmth when it came from the vein. But the taste of rust, the iron sitting heavy on his tongue was always the same. He doubted you would be the exception. In the miserable years since he'd been condemned to this, it hadn't gotten easier - but was he supposed to starve? Would he even die? Could he?

Humans - you - weren't worth the effort.

Not when he could get what he needed from the blood bags Shoko would smuggle out of whatever hospital she last snagged a job from.

But then, why was he here?

"Are you alright?" You were concerned. For him.

Like you weren't sitting so pretty within his reach, just asking to end up on the headlines of tomorrow's news.

“Fine,” He hm-ed, ignoring the itch under his skin, the dryness in his own throat reminding him of exactly how long it's been since he had his last drink.

You were just a stranger. And once he found the strength in his legs again, he'd get up and get out. Call Shoko and Satoru and find something to stop him from following you home.

He didn't need to know your name. Didn't want to. Couldn't.

There was a faint glimmer of curiosity you didn't conceal in your covert glances, constantly peeking over your book like he wouldn't notice.

"What are you reading?" He asked instead.

"Oh, it's nothing," You blushed again, your grip readjusting so the title was obscured, wilting a little under the weight of his attention.

He tsk-ed, leaning over the coffee table separating you to snag the book from your hands, ignoring your stunned stammers as he flipped through the thin pages, skimming over the words. Leaning back, letting his legs spread comfortably, humming to himself.

Suguru didn't know if you'd take the bait.

If you'd realize you were prey before you were too wrapped up in his web to get out.

You were already on your feet, bridging the divide in a few short strides, holding your hand out expectantly with a huff. Your leg touching his, his slacks rustling against your bare skin when you leaned over him.

Weren't you cold in that excuse of fabric you called a skirt?

It's not like he had much frame of reference anymore - but the leaves scattering the sidewalk outside were orange, the trees barren, most people he passed by were far more bundled up than that. A scarf was tossed haphazardly over your bag by your chair, like that'd help any.

“Come on,” You pouted, jutting out your bottom lip and batting your lashes, your thigh still pressed against his.

It'd be easy to hold you.

To grab your hips and pull you down into his lap, find out what flavor you were for himself. How pliable you would be, what shape you'd let him mold you into.

But he held himself back, patting the cushion next to him. He half-hoped you would leave - but you sat down, taking your book back while you rolled your eyes.

“If you wanted me to sit next to you, you could've asked,” You were teasing him, letting him drag you to hell with a smile on your face.

Not even opening your book, studying his features like something he'd said or done had marked himself as safe in your head.

“And if I asked you to sit on my lap?”

“Why don't you find out for yourself?” You challenged, sliding the thick novel over on the scratched-up coffee table, your coffee growing cold on its coaster on the other side.

He laughed. When was the last time he'd done that?

He knew he was playing a dangerous game here - did you?

Was it a smart idea to sit on a stranger's lap?

No, but, who could blame you when the hottest guy you'd ever seen had been eyefucking and flirting with you since he sat down?

"Are you nervous?" He hummed. Somehow closer even though you could've sworn he hadn't moved, only a thin gap between your chests, the soft fabric of his sweater brushing against the bare strip of your shoulder. He was looking down at you, all pupils now, the welcoming warmth of the amber that first caught your attention swallowed up by something darker.

"N-no," You lied.

He laughed, just a low chuckle that reflected the same bored amusement you found in the rest of his face. His thighs sturdy underneath yours, supporting your weight while one hand slipped under your skirt.

"You worried I might bite?" He mocked - or teased. It felt like the same thing either way.

"Do you?" You asked, your breath caught in your throat at the pretty white glint of his teeth in the small smile he graced you with, part of you wondering how the sharp edges of his canines might feel scraping against the tendons of your throat, what kind of noises he might make if he was on top instead of under you.

"Do you want me to?" He returned the question.

"Maybe," You admitted.

Inhaling a sharp breath, lungs desperate for whatever air you could suck down, chest rising and left anticipating the fall when his fingers skimmed across your cheekbone just to stroke your hair softly. You hadn't meant to - but you were leaning into his touch, tilting your head to meet his hand, melting into the moment.

Maybe you just dozed off.

That this, and him, was all a sleep deprived dream from reading one too many cheap romance novels lately and you'd wake up alone back in the armchair.

But fuck, he felt real.

His skin was freezing - smooth marble under your fingers, nails digging into stone instead of firm muscles as you skimmed over the ridges across his chest.

You were shrugging your cardigan all the way off before he had to ask, glancing back to throw it on top of where you left your scarf and purse when you arrived. He was impatient though, pulling at the thin shirt you had on underneath, fingers tugging it up and over your head, the chill of the air conditioning and his fingers on your waist making you gasp when he easily discarded it too.

One blink and he had you on your back, sinking into the soft cushions of the couch, the springs creaking underneath your combined weight. Undoing the zipper on your skirt in a single fluid motion and pulling it down to leave you in just your underwear beneath his body. A massive hand ghosting up your thigh to hook it over his hip, the cool metal of his zipper and what was barely contained underneath it was pressed against the thin lace of your panties.

You didn't even know his name.

"I, uh, oh," You were stammering in-between broken gasps, his mouth hovering over your neck, his sharp nose grazing against your ear, and you weren't sure if it was your hair or his that was tickling you.

"Call me Suguru," He murmured.

"Suguru," You echoed, testing the sound on your tongue, his name coming out more like a question or a plea when his lips finally met your throat. Softer than you imagined, pressed against the vein like maybe he could hear the pulse racing underneath.

"Mhm," He sighed into your skin, letting his lips linger there.

His kisses were the type of tender that you expected from a lover or a boyfriend, as careful and collected as him. They traced over your breasts, only pausing the graze over your nipples, rolling one between his index and thumb with his teeth scraped against the other, an almost gutteral sound escaping his throat when your hips arched up into him, rolling against the growing bulge in his pants.

You tried to reach down, to pull up his sweater, fingers fiddling with his belt before he paused playing with your tits to pin your hand against the couch, sturdy fingers easily encircling your wrist, his mean grip almost bruising as it held you in place.

“Patience, pretty girl,” He taunted, as if he didn't look like he was ready to devour you. His hungry gaze sweeping over your chest, hanging onto every shuddered breath you took.

“I want you,” You openly admitted, using your free hand to reach up to touch his face. Brushing your thumb over his swollen lower lip, pulling it down to ask for entry, just enough to feel the ridges of his teeth underneath.

“I know,” His laugh was dark, contained, his breath cool against your skin. You barely managed to stifle your whine when he caught your thumb in between his teeth, running them over your nail, applying just enough pressure to keep it there.

Your brows drawn together, begging him with just your eyes while you bit down hard enough on your own lips you were surprised the skin didn't break. He released your thumb and wrist at the same time, moving your hand so it was cupping his cheek.

“I want you too,” He muttered quietly, his voice so low it was almost inaudible.

“You can have m-” You were cut off before you could finish, his lips colliding hard against yours, something harder throbbing into your clit. You gasped, writhing under the weight of him, the friction when he rocked his hips against yours making your head spin. You'd been off-center since he showed up, something about the warm, spicy scent of his cologne, the depth in his dark eyes, the easy confidence in every fluid movement, his charisma disarming, disorienting.

“Careful,” He murmured in one of the stolen breaths between kisses while you stared up at him, glossy-eyed and panting, your oxygen-starved brain barely able to process his words.

“I don't wanna be,” You argued, trying to sneak your hand back to his belt, managing to unzip his pants halfway before he laughed again, a quiet chuckle muffled into your throat when he started painting the skin there purple with starving little sucks, reveling in the gasps and groans he earned every time his incisors scraped against your collarbone.

“You just offer yourself to anyone?” He chided, allowing you to unbuckle his belt, not providing any assistance while you struggled to pull it all the way off.

“Are you anyone?” You huffed, finally managing to pull it though the last loop, the buckle clinking as it hit the table when you went to drop it by the couch. Cringing at the noise, you tried to prop yourself up on your elbow and peek out the small gap between the shelves to see if anyone had noticed.

But he had you by your hips, your back landing flat against the couch again when he tugged you down, breathless as his palms drifted down to spread your thighs for him, his tongue tasting you through the already wet patch of your panties.

“W-what are you-” Your strained whisper dying mid-question when his mouth found your clit, sucking on the swollen bud with heedy kisses, dragging his tongue across it almost desperately. The lace of your underwear was about to give under his pressure, the hardly-there material soaked and slick with saliva, his fingers digging into the clenched muscle of your thighs.

“Fuck,” He groaned, glancing up at you through half-lidded eyes. His lips swollen, glossy as his tongue ran over them, like he was savoring the taste lingering there.

“Suguru?” Your voice was hushed, hesitant when you said his name. Squirming under his hold, uselessly searching for friction, white-hot need pooling in the pit of your stomach the second he pulled away.

“Mm?” He’d almost look drunk if it wasn't for the razor sharp focus in his eyes, how intensely they were focused entirely on you, assessing the silent plea of your pout. “Patience, remember?”

“Please,” You begged.

He tsk-ed, but he slipped two fingers against the side of your panties, tugging them down your thighs excruciatingly slowly, like he had all the time in the world and that the librarian couldn't just walk in and ban you both for life at any given moment.

The protest on your own tongue turned into a whimper when he buried his inside you. Crooking itself flat against your walls, trying to map out every spot for himself, humming with approval every time he elicited a broken gasp or tore a new noise out of your throat.

Pushing your thighs back down, pushing them further apart every time you tried to close them around his head, lapping at you like you were his favorite meal. Your head falling back against the armrest, chest heaving with every strangled breath, hand absentmindedly reaching out to tangle itself in his hair. You hesitated with the realization you might mess it up, but he let go of your leg long enough to take your hand and put it there.

When his tongue slipped out, licking a clean stripe up to your clit, you had to grab his hair, silky strands slipping between your fingertips and pulling him in. You were pretty fucking positive you'd be left picking up the pieces of your sanity after this was over, stuck replaying this night on repeat for maybe forever.

“God, fuck,” You practically spat out the curse, barely aware of whatever words were spilling out when he eased two of those sturdy fingers in, stretching you open as he circled your clit with hungry sucks.

Like some frenzied fever going straight to your head, your whole body burning up at the borderline lewd noise of him pumping his fingers in-and-out, hopefully planning exactly how he was going to fuck you later, your cheeks only flushing harder at the thought of what that might feel like if this was already heaven.

“Oh, oh,” You whined, driving his fingers deeper when you arched your hips up, everything inside pulling tighter and tighter until he nipped at the sensitive bud of your clit and you snapped.

His own moan, his tongue still continuing his steady, practiced motions while you unraveled only made you dizzy, desperate. You had to clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, a fistful of his hair in your other hand.

You didn't think you'd ever came so hard, all the little neurons firing off like he'd permanently rewired your brain chemistry with just his tongue and a couple fingers, craving every touch he'd offer.

He tore your hand away, capturing your lips with his own and kissing you again like he craved you just as much, if not more. You could taste yourself on him, but you were too distracted by the way he was pulling down his boxers just enough for his cock to spring free, a thick vein bulging along the shaft, the tip pink and dripping already, painfully hard as he dragged it over your still-sensitive bud to ghost across your entrance.

“You can come inside,” You teased, your hand finding its way underneath his sweater, feeling the ridges and divots of his back muscles as you pulled him closer.

“Oh yeah?” He chuckled, this thumb drifting across your brow as he kissed the corner of your mouth.

“I’m on birth control,” You muttered, surprised at how easily his casual affection had you blushing again.

He frowned, those pretty pink lips pressed in a hard line like he was considering for the first time you might not be his.

You started to giggle, barely suppressing your grin at the hints of jealousy you detected. It wasn't like you'd ever actually done anything like this, hooking up with a stranger. Still, he was practically pouting - or as close to it as he could get, the downward curve of his mouth, his eyes narrowed before he pressed the tip tantalizingly hard against the sore bundle of nerves and turned your laugh into a strangle oh.

“You know how hard you're making this for me?” He spoke slowly, his jaw clenched tight as the lump in his throat bobbed.

“You could show me,” You murmured, tracing little hearts on his back while you wrapped your thighs around him, crossing your ankles as he aligned himself.

“You don't know what you're asking,” His voice was strained, eyes fluttering shut as he slowly sunk in, inch-by-inch, your breathing stuttering as you struggled to adjust around him.

“M-maybe I wanna find out, Sugu-” His name turned into a breathy moan when he abruptly bottomed out, burying your face into the sharp edges of his collarbone to muffle the sound. Nails scraping at his shoulder blade, heels digging into the small of his back as he pressed snugly against your cervix, barely giving you the time to process how deep he was before pulling out and plunging back in.

The rasp in his groan only made you throb, your lips pressing against the cool column of his throat, pressing weak, wet kisses up to his jaw, hoping to leave a few marks to prove you'd been here. You were putty for him and he knew it. Imprinting every ridge and groove and vein into you like he was sure no one else would be able to fill the hole he left afterwards.

His next thrust rough enough that you were reflexing scooting up the couch with a whine just for him to pull you back into him, one hand on your hip to hold you down while he found a steady rhythm, the other reaching up to squeeze your breast hard before drifting up to slip behind your neck.

There was something nearly feral in his eyes when you looked up at him, your lips parted for the shattered breaths escaping every time he molded you around him. The chill of his hands and the burn of the stretch were intoxicating.

“Are you trying to, ah, break me?” You tried to tease, like you weren't clenching around him, toes curling with the pleasure wracking through you every time he angled impossibly deeper.

“I might,” He admitted, all hoarse and heavy as his thrusts stalled, throbbing, his tip smashed against your womb.

You couldn't help your whimper, trying to buck your hips up into him just for him to press down on your hips again and pin you back in place. His head dipping down to rest against your collarbone, long lashes fluttering against your skin as he sucked in a ragged breath. The restraint he was clinging onto, the need and the hunger and how close he seemed to be to coming completely undone was maybe the closest you'd ever come to a religious experience.

“God, you're killing me,” You mewled, his fingers pressing into the back of your neck as his lips grazed against the straining tendon of your neck, your chin tilted back automatically to ask for more kisses, more attention, more anything.

“I might,” He repeated in a low growl, his teeth skimming against your skin, pulling out just enough to bully his way back in, his thumb digging into your hip hard enough you were pretty sure he'd leave a fingerprint.

“Fuck, I hope so,” You mumbled in-between moans, lost in the feeling of him, the waves washing over you with the force of every frantic thrust, the once-steady rhythm starting to falter, grow sloppy as his kisses got harsher, longer.

His hand slipped in-between the narrow divide between your bodies, catching your clit between his fingers to massage harsh circles against it, only getting faster at the broken noises he managed to rip straight from your chest.

“You gonna cum for me?” He managed a filthy whisper in your ear, going back down to suck on an already-sore spot in the crook of your collarbone, sounding like he was the one about to cum.

“Mm,” You nodded, head too scrambled to get a coherent sentence from your brain to your mouth, trembling as the waves crested higher and higher until - “Oh fuck.”

Eyes screwing shut so tight little stars were dotting the black when you unraveled, devoted whimpers of his name rolling off your tongue as you clawed at his back, squeezing harder and harder like you were trying to suck him in and keep him there forever.

Some intangible thread tangled between you snapped.

A guttural moan left him, thick and warm ropes of cum filling you up and dripping down onto the inside of your thighs as his hips smacked roughly against your skin, the incisors scraping along your throat sinking in, setting off a new sort of burning when he actually bit down.

You gasped, squirming under his hold when his grip on your neck tightened, the veins of his cock still pulsing as he sucked hard, something sticky coating your skin when you heard him swallow.

“S-Suguru,” You whined, lightheaded, torn somewhere between pleasure and pain when he let out another thick groan, his teeth retracting just for his tongue to press hard and flat against the exposed tendon, licking a clean stripe there.

“Taste so fucking good,” He murmured into your neck, each word broken up by small nibbles, just enough to puncture the first layer of skin, lapping up the small drops of blood that'd pop up.

When he came up for air, all disheveled, your blood on his mouth, the sharp points of his canines, his bangs fallen in his face, an air of fucking contentment just radiating off of him while he just stared at you. Naked and bare and vulnerable and bleeding for him while he was still dressed, even if his dick was still out, still hard. Cum leaking down your thighs, a wet spot spreading to where his boxers were pulled down. He noticed, two fingers dipping down to push the cum back inside with an expression bordering on smug.

“You bit me,” You accused, blinking a few times, eyes flickering from the red ringing his lips to the color that returned to his eyes. There were fresh stains on his sweater, streaks of red by the collar you sincerely doubted would come out in the wash.

“Yeah,” He smirked.

Like he knew you liked it.

“Yeah?” You repeated incredulously.

“Wanna do it again?”

a/n: phew, back to regularly scheduled programming next week <33 hehe this one is for @quinnyundertow n @pnkblueberry and all my Geto girlies mwah ily guys sm!!

#beautiful #need more of this

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