Loveandpeaceanddoughnuts - Esperanza - Tumblr Blog

got an office job, now I can finally get paid to daydream about nanami fucking me doggy style on the table in front of the glass doors 😊😊

Hiromi Higuruma is lying on the couch, face half-buried in a pillow, suit rumpled and tie half-undone at his throat. His hair sticks up in odd places where he’s run his hands through it all day.

A finger of whisky sits abandoned in a glass on the coffee table, the few sips he’d managed to savor making a reappearance as spots of color on his high cheekbones.

“Too far away,” he mumbles.

“Hmm?”

“You’re too far away.” He flops one big hand off the couch in a half-assed “come here”. And you do, smiling to yourself as you squeeze in next to his sprawled body.

He immediately wraps his arms around you, the scent of tobacco and faint cologne shadowing his embrace. His hands splay over your back, pressing you closer.

“You’re so clingy when you’re sleepy, Hiromi,” you tease.

“Hmph no I’m not,” he yawns, entirely unconvincing. “And I’m not sleepy, either.”

“Right. Not at all,” You laugh as you snuggle into his warmth. “That’s not gonna hold up in court.”

Your terrible joke is rewarded with a low groan, and Hiromi buries his face in your neck. “That never gets old, huh?”

“Nope,” you grin.

His grumble is muffled, his stubble scratching against your skin. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I know.” He presses a drowsy kiss to your jaw, his sharp nose nudging along your cheek. You wind your fingers in his hair, massaging his temples and smoothing out the ever-present furrows on his brow.

“Mmm that’ll really make me fall asleep, love,” he warns, his eyelids heavy as he blinks up at you.

“That’s okay. We’ve got nowhere to be and nothing to do.”

“Goddamn. That may be the sexiest thing you’ve ever said.” He squeezes your ass in one big palm and shifts so that you’re cradled in his arms.

He breathes in the comforting scent of your shampoo, and you feel his body relax beneath yours. The slow, steady beat of his heart lulls you until you’re both fast asleep.

meme redraw (+ based on)

oblivious!Nanami who cannot fathom that you’d like him back let alone want him so you’re forced to get more and more obvious with your flirting.

oblivious!Nanami who you bring a coffee one morning, his name on the paper sleeve surrounded by little hearts. he doesn't even look at the cup, just gulps down the scalding coffee and thanks you quietly.

"You're very kind. I needed the caffeine."

oblivious!Nanami who drives you home when you miss the train, but politely declines your offer to come up for tea because he knows you have an early shift the next day.

“I couldn’t possibly, but thank you.”

oblivious!Nanami who is way too nice about receiving your “drunk texts”, telling you to forget the whole thing and that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Ah, I believe you’ve texted the wrong person. I’ll delete these. Have a fun night.”

oblivious!Nanami who agrees to come over to help you paint above your kitchen cabinets because he’s your tallest friend, who blushes at your jokes about him “falling for you” while you hold the ladder steady but doesn’t play along.

“Don’t worry, I have excellent balance.”

oblivious!Nanami who tells himself that it’s perfectly normal for you to take your top off and finish painting in a sports bra, because it’s just so hot in your house.

“Of course, I don’t mind. It is quite warm.”

oblivious!Nanami who goes home and touches himself to the thought of you, to the idea of how close you’d been, how little you’d been wearing.

“She’s so beautiful, so sweet, fuck, fuck…”

oblivious!Nanami who pictures your face when he comes into his fist, who cleans himself up guiltily and avoids you at work for the whole next week in self-imposed punishment.

“Good afternoon. Excuse me. Thank you.”

oblivious!Nanami who bites his tongue to keep from confessing when you ask him if he likes anyone, if he has a type.

“I, ah, I’m single, yes. I don’t exactly have a type.”

oblivious!Nanami whose heart sinks when you tell him that you have a crush on someone, who has to clench his fists in his pockets when you gush about them.

“I’m sure they’re wonderful. They’re a lucky person.”

oblivious!Nanami who feels the knife twist as you assure him that they are, that they’re handsome and kind and funny and brilliant, but way out of your league.

“I’m sure that’s not true. You’re all that and more.”

oblivious!Nanami who shakes his head in disbelief when you tell him that you don’t think they feel the same way, because you’ve dropped about a million hints and they haven’t ever reciprocated.

“That sounds frustrating. Maybe you should just tell them how you feel. At least then you’d know.”

oblivious!Nanami who thinks he’s dreaming when you lean in and press a soft, sweet kiss to his cheek, when you say that that’s very good advice, when you take his hand.

“It’s you, Kento. It’s always been.”

oblivious!Nanami who can’t hold back from kissing you, pulling you into a breathless embrace, murmuring against your lips.

“It can’t be, so long, I never imagined…”

oblivious!Nanami who lies awake in bed beside you, his mind replaying all the signals he had missed or chosen not to believe.

oblivious!Nanami who promises to make up for lost time, and never lets you doubt his love again.

Painted over an old higuruma piece 😋

I think of this image every goddamn day it’s burned into my brain hnnnghhh

*Eats their asses*

To be perceived: Husband!Nanami x Reader

“I don’t feel good in anything!” Your clothes are strewn around the room, victims of your self-image. Nanami holds up a dress, raising an eyebrow in a silent offer. You shake your head. “That hasn’t fit in years!”

He sits down heavily on the bed, surveying the emptied drawers and your increasingly desperate face. He tries discreetly to check his watch. He’ll call and move the reservations back, no problem.

You take off the latest rejected outfit and sit down helplessly in the middle of the room. “Kento, I’m an ugly slug.” Your husband joins you on the floor, wrapping both arms around you.

“You’re a beautiful slug, dear.”

You laugh and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know we’re running late…”

He kisses the top of your head. “Don’t worry about it. I just want you to feel good. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, my love.”

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be perceived, you know?”

Nanami nods thoughtfully. “I can’t make that happen, but maybe I could help distract people. Make it so you’re not the one they’re staring at.”

You turn to look up at him. “What do you mean? You’re wearing your scheming face…”

“Don’t worry, angel. You just finish getting ready and leave it to me, okay?” He disappears into the bathroom.

In a few minutes, you’re feeling a bit better. You’ve put on a comfortable outfit and done your makeup. Nanami’s voice is muffled from behind the door. “Are you ready, darling?”

“Yes, ready when you are!” You call back.

Your husband emerges from the bathroom, a confident smile on his chiseled face. Your mind short-circuits for a moment, not sure what to focus on first- the shock of blonde hair slipping over one eye, the expertly applied black eyeliner, or the skirt swaying around his muscled thighs. He looks beautiful.

“Kento, what is this?” You squint. “Is that my eyeliner?”

“No, it’s mine,” he says easily. “I’ve had it since high school.”

“And the hair? I’ve never seen you without it gelled up…”

He blushes a little at that. “Also high school.”

You shake your head in disbelief, your heart racing at the unexpected transformation. “Well I know that’s my skirt,” you giggle.

“Ah, yes. That’s correct. I found one with an elastic waist, so I could fit- but I’ll change if you mind me using it.”

“No, not at all!” You reassure quickly. He has a good eye for fashion, despite his usual insistence on a leopard-print tie. He’s paired the skirt with one of his own button-downs, sleeves rolled up over his ropy forearms. You step forward, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“You like it, then?” He asks softly.

“You’re beautiful,” you sigh. “But what’s this all about?”

He chuckles. “I figured that although you look stunning as ever, I might get a little more attention than you tonight. Help with the whole ‘being perceived’ bit.”

You laugh and lean up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, careful not to muss his hair. “You’re an angel. A sexy, stylish angel.”

“As long as I’m yours,” he murmurs. “Now. I’ve moved our reservations once, let’s not be late for them again, hm?”

Nanami’s theory was correct. Every eye in the fancy restaurant is on him as the two of you are escorted to your table. Some stares are admiring, some judgmental, but he’s completely unbothered. He looks at you from across the table as if you’re the only other person in the world.

You clink your wine glasses together. “To my beautiful wife,” he smiles.

“To my beautiful husband,” you smile back.

Clean Sheets: Maid!Levi x Reader

cw: attempted seduction, shameless smut // wc: 3,579 // [ao3]

You had a giant crush on the guy who cleaned your house. Not in a creepy middle-aged-mom-wants-the-pool-boy way, you told yourself. The cleaning service you hired when you started working longer shifts (after your therapist convinced you that you were not a bad person because you didn’t dust your baseboards, despite what your mother had said) just so happened to come in the form of an incredibly sexy man. 

Sexy and intimidating, even though the two of you were the same height. He never smiled, just showed up on your doorstep in a tight little uniform and got to work. You weren’t sure why a cleaner needed a leather harness, but you weren’t going to complain when you saw the way it stretched around his pecs as he scrubbed. 

He’d barely spoken to you beyond a gruff introduction on the first day, but you learned that his name was Levi Ackerman, and that he would begrudgingly accept a cup of tea if you offered it. Maybe it was the aloofness that drew you to him, or the way he wielded a mop like a weapon, or the dust cloths he tied over his hair and face like a housewife from the fifties. 

Whatever it was, you had it bad for the guy. And today was the day you were going to seduce him. He had just finished the last room in the house, and you were waiting in the kitchen to give him his payment.   

As he walked in, you slowly reached up and began to unbutton your top. Your tits spilled out right on cue. “I’m a little short on cash today, Mr. Ackerman,” you purred. “Is there any way I can pay you with…something else?” You bit your lip and looked up at him through fluttering eyelashes. Sure, you were laying it on a little thick, but better to be clear about it, you thought.  

Levi was staring past you, frowning at a stain on the counter as he tugged down his cloth mask. You gave a breathy little laugh and tried to lean into his view, but he just stepped around you and kept glaring. “I just cleaned that. You’ve only been in here for thirty seconds, how have you already made a mess? What are you, a damn tornado?”

Your jaw dropped as you absorbed his tirade. “A torna- what? What are you talking about?” How has this already gone off-script? “Ackerman, my tits are out!” 

He finally looked back at you. “Why are your tits out?”

“Because I’m trying to seduce you, you idiot!”

“Well that’s not a very good way to go about it, saying things like that,” he said flatly. 

God he was infuriating. You wanted to suck the condescension right out of his cock. 

“Well it would have been, if you weren’t so focused on this,” you whirled around and squinted at the splash of coffee that had so offended him. You licked your thumb and rubbed the stain away. “There. Is that better?”

He clutched at the cloth around his neck in horror. “No it is not!” You’d never seen his eyes so wide, and were momentarily distracted by how pretty they were. The sight brought you back to your objective. Time for a new tactic.

You hoisted yourself up on the counter across from him, swinging your legs nonchalantly as you watched him sponge away the spot with muttered curses. He was so meticulous. Surely that had to translate into the bedroom…you shook your head. Eyes on the prize. The prize that was currently bent over to examine your countertop from eye level. 

Apparently satisfied, Levi straightened up and turned back to you, his steel gray eyes unimpressed. “What exactly are you trying to do here?”

You giggle. “I told you. I’m seducing you.”

He tucked the sponge away neatly and crossed his arms. “No, you’re not.”

“Oh come onnn. Not even a little?”

The ghost of a smirk crossed his face. “Not even a little.”

“Well what do you want me to do, huh?”

Levi rolled his eyes at your pout and smoothly crossed the room, crowding you against the countertop as he stepped between your legs. He looked up at you with all the confidence in the world. “I want you to use your words. None of this hair-twirling, giggling shit. What do you want?”

Your mouth went dry as your pussy flooded. “Uh, I, I want-”

“Uh, I, I want-” He mocked your horny babble in his sandpaper voice, leaning in closer. “Use. Your. Words. I know you have a dirty mouth to match your house.”

The insult somehow made your arousal burn hotter. You swallowed hard and tried to find your voice again. “I want you to fuck me, Ackerman.”

He smiled tightly. “Levi, if we’re fucking.” 

“Are we? Fucking?” It made you dizzy to look down at him, the proximity painful. You wondered dimly if he could feel the heat radiating from between your legs.

The shadows under his eyes were thrown into stark relief as he tilted his head up into the fluorescent light of your kitchen. He smelled like clean linen hung out to dry in a lightning storm. His hands were softer than you imagined when they cupped your face, dragging your lips against his. Levi’s kiss was exploratory, gentle and probing. When you tried to deepen it, your tongue swiping against his bottom lip, he pulled back with a smirk.

“Tch, someone’s eager. You want me that bad?”

You shivered, dragging your nails across his sharp undercut. “Yeah, I do.”

He nodded, pleased, and you glowed at the crumb of praise. What was this guy doing to you? 

“Then I suppose you can call me Levi.” He gripped your thighs and pulled you to the edge of the countertop, hooking your legs around his waist. He lifted you easily and carried you to your own bedroom as if he had done it a hundred times. You took the opportunity to press greedy kisses along his newly accessible neck and sharp jaw, relishing the little hiss of air it drew from him.

He dropped you back onto your bed, one knee already up to follow you there when he froze. He stared down at where your clothed cunt had pressed against his spotless gray shirt. Well. Formerly spotless. His eyes turned steely, and he herded you back on the bed until you hit the headboard, caged in by his strong arms. “Look at that. You’ve already made another mess. Filthy girl.”

He slides the hem of his shirt up teasingly, revealing chiseled abs. You want to lick him like a goddamn lollipop. He seems to read your mind, looking at you with an air of expectation. When you don’t move, he rolls his eyes again. 

“Eh? Do I need to spell it out?” He grabs your chin and turns your face to his waist. “Clean your mess.” You stick out your tongue, and when he doesn’t say anything to correct you, you lean forward and lick a long, hot stripe up his six-pack, shivering at the faint tang of your own arousal. He closes his eyes and sighs, his muscles tensing as you taste him. “Good girl.” 

Eager to make the most of your opportunity, you hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and tug, a silent question in your eyes. He huffed a laugh and let go of your chin to start unbuckling the frankly egregious amount of fastenings on his belt and harness. He makes quick work of it, and you're treated to the sight of your bizarrely buff house cleaner unwrapping himself like a present on your bed.

There’s a small mountain of strappy leather beside him by the time he’s done, and you’re drowning in anticipation. He catches your wide-eyed stare and looks away, the barest hint of a flush on his cheeks. Levi reached behind him with one hand and tugged his shirt over his head by the collar. “Well? Are you going to join me?”

You scrambled to take off your dress, shivering under the heat of his stare. It was hard to read approval in his sharp face, but he leaned closer, guiding your hands back to his waist. He held his hands over yours as you unbuttoned him and slid his trousers down his narrow hips. 

Your mouth watered at the sight of the bulge that strained against his briefs. You slowly dragged them down his tight, muscled ass. His cock was stunning, lovely in a way you’d never thought a cock could be. It was long and thick, pale with a prominent vein and the slightest left curve. Pearly precum beaded at his flushed pink tip, slapping hard against his abdomen as you set it free.

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured, cock-drunk without your lips ever touching him. 

“That’s not one I’ve heard before.” His voice was still gruff, but when you managed to pull your eyes away from his dick you were stunned to see that the hint of color on his cheeks had darkened to a full-blown blush. It makes you bold again.

“You like that? Being called pretty?”

He glared at you. “Don’t be ridiculous. Pretty. Tch.”  

You grinned back and bent down to press a soft kiss to his tip. It jumped against you, glossing your lips with precum. “I think you do.” 

Levi clenched his jaw as you teased him. “Thought you just wanted to get fucked, woman.”

You ignore the threat and press another gentle kiss to his swollen cockhead. “That’s before I knew you had such a pretty dick.” 

In a flash, Levi had you on your back. He grabbed both your cheeks in one hand, squeezing them into a pout. “Yeah? Well I knew from the start you’d be a brat.” His hard body pins you to the bed, and you feel him throb against your stomach. 

“You like it,” you mumble through squished lips. 

“Shut up.” 

“Make me.” You stick your tongue out, and Levi almost chokes.

“You are such a-” he lets go of you, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you always this annoying?” 

You smile up at him as he frowns, curling your fingers around his cock. “Probably.” You stroke him lazily, and he shudders at your touch. His strong arms tremble as they cage you in. 

“Maybe I need to fuck that attitude out of you, hm?” There’s a tremor in his gravelly voice now.

“You can certainly try,” you purr. You have him right where you want him- flushed and needy and just a little frustrated. 

He growls at your challenge, yanking your soaked panties down to your knees. He grabs your wrists in one hand and pulls them over your head, pinning you to the mattress. The position makes you arch your back, and he smirks as he nudges your legs wider with his knee. His cock is achingly hard now, weeping precum as he teases it between your folds. His eyes are dark as he coats himself with your arousal, his tip nudging your clit in a mean little tease every few strokes. 

“So wet for me already, eh? Making a mess of your clean sheets.” He clicks his tongue. “Better make this worth the extra work, beautiful.” 

You resist the sudden urge to giggle. It’s all going so perfectly, and he’s hotter than you’d dreamed. He’s just as eager as you are underneath the cocky nonchalance, but the persona is part of the reason you’ve been lusting after him anyway, so you let him keep it. He’s right about the mess, after all. You’re lying in a rapidly growing pool of your own slick, your cunt clenching around nothing as he teases you. As fun as the game is, you want his chiseled cock to split you in half already.

“Please Levi…” you whimper.

“Yes? Is there something you want?” 

Your face flushes at the prompting. “You know what I want.”

“Your words, remember, sweetheart? If you want something from me, you need to tell me what it is. You need to beg me for it.” He leans closer to you as he speaks, his lips brushing your ear on the last words.

“Fuck you.” 

Levi looks down, back up at you, and back down again, dramatically arching an eyebrow. “Is that what’s happening here?” 

The sarcasm makes you want to rip out your hair. Or better yet, his. You suck in a breath and open your mouth just as he reaches down and pinches your clit, soothing it with little circles immediately after. Your retort turns into a moan. “Leviiiiii…”

“Hmm?” He cocks his head, still rubbing your clit. 

You try again. “Levi, I- ohhhhhh fuck!” This time he shoves two fingers into your eager cunt, smirking at the greedy squelch it makes. He curls them against your plush walls, reading every gasp and jerk of your hips like a map to your most sensitive spots. 

“I can’t quite understand you,” he says smoothly. Your eyes rolled back as he added another finger, pumping all three into you in a steady rhythm. “Though I think prefer you like this. So much more polite.” You squirm desperately against him, his relentless fingers stretching you deliciously. 

“Levi, please!” You choke out, twisting your wrists helplessly in his grasp. “Please, can’t take it, need you inside me, please,” your face crumples as he angles his hand even deeper, hitting a spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He slides out of you, holding his hand up to examine the translucent stretch of your slick as he spreads his fingers. “I’ll clean up after you free of charge, just this once,” he teases, sucking them into his mouth with a hum of pleasure. He closes his eyes as he licks you off his hand, and you watch in helpless awe. He’s thorough, of course.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs, wiping his spit-soaked fingers on your cheek. Levi lines himself up with your entrance, letting your wrists go at last so he can grip your hips with both hands. You squirm, trying desperately to relieve the aching emptiness he’s left you with. He gives you a real smile for the first time as he watches you wriggle underneath him.

“I love how eager you are for me.” He laughs, shaking his spiky bangs out of his eyes. “You make me feel so-” he hissed as you managed to sink down onto his tip, the heat of you overwhelming. “Mmm. I can’t keep you waiting any longer, can I?”

“No, you can’t,” you gasp, reaching up to pull him down to you by the back of his neck. “You’re driving me insane, Levi, please.” His eyes almost sparkle as he rocks his hips forward, at last, sheathing himself inside of you with a ragged groan. 

He feels perfect, dragging easily against your soft walls as you stretch to take all of him. His vein throbs against you and it sends sparks down your legs. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming into you again, moaning when you shove his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss. This time he parts his lips eagerly when you lick at them, and you taste yourself on his tongue as you devour him.

“Levi, oh fuck, Levi…” He swallows your moans and sets a punishing rhythm, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he spreads you open. 

“Taking me so fuckin’ well, that’s it, good girl,” he moans praises against your neck, hands sliding under your back to support you as you arch into his strokes. “Is that what you wanted? You needed me to use this sloppy pussy?” The dirty talk rolls off his tongue so easily, even as he gently holds you up and kisses your sweaty forehead. “I can tell how badly you wanted this, so goddamn soaked for me, so filthy.” 

You nodded helplessly, fucked dumb, mouth falling open as he slammed you into the mattress. The sound of your own panting breath sounded very far away, your ears ringing with the force of his thrusts. “Filthy…” you repeat mindlessly, twisting your fingers into his hair, trying to anchor yourself.

He groaned as you pulled his hair, tossing his head back into your grip. “That’s it, hold onto me, I’ve got you.” He lifted you higher, his hands spread across your ass and the small of your back to hold you up against him. You felt him even deeper from this angle, legs shaking as they dangled helplessly around his back. Only your upper body stayed on the bed, the rest of you made into a willing cocksleeve as Levi slammed you up and down against himself. 

“Such a little brat, trying to seduce me, eye-fucking me while I work,” he growled, grinding you down against his abs as he makes you take him to the hilt. The friction against your clit is maddening, almost unbearable combined with how hard he’s slamming into you. He doesn’t miss the way you clench around his cock, and shifts his grip on you to one arm so he can torture your puffy clit with his free hand. He rolls it faster and faster between his fingers, teeth flashing in another smile as you muffle a scream behind your hand. 

“Good girl. You gonna cum on this cock, eh? Don’t hide those pretty little sounds from me. Wanna hear how good I’m fucking you.” He works you up to the edge of orgasm and keeps you there with steady pressure on your clit, taking his time. You scrunch your eyes shut, mouth stretched open in a silent scream as his cock knocks against your cervix.

He’s breathing harder, his voice rough and desperate. “Tell me who owns this messy cunt. Tell me who’s giving you the best damn fuck you’ve ever had,” he grits out.

“Levi!” You cry. “It’s you, it’s you Levi…”

“Yeah?” He’s getting meaner, your legs locking around his waist, knowing you can’t take much more. 

“Yes, you, Levi- you own this messy cunt,” you moan, the words burning on your lips. No one’s ever made you feel so helpless, so overcome with pleasure. 

He bends down, folding you in half as he presses his lips to your neck. He whispers praises, punctuating them with open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin hard enough to leave deep purple bruises. “So fucking good for me. You wanna cum on my cock, beautiful?”

“Yes, yes, please, wanna cum,” you babble, lightheaded and electrified.

“God you’re so gorgeous when you beg,” he sighs, granting your wish with a final pinch to your clit as he kisses your breath away. He pulls away with a gasp as your orgasm makes you clench and tremble around his cock, the sensation driving him to his own peak.

His fucked-out face rearranges itself into the dry smirk that you know so well as he looks down at you. “Gonna let me cum inside, brat? You wouldn’t want to make another mess…” 

You nod frantically, the primal part of you wanting nothing more than to take every drop of him. “Yes, cum in me Levi,” you whimper.

“Ah fuck. You’re killing me,” he groans, but his face softens again when you agree. With a grunt, he leans back and tightens his grip on your thighs, holding you down and spread open. From this position you can see every rippling muscle, every bead of sweat that slides down his taut body. He’s sexy, powerful, confident, but you stand by your earlier statement. Most of all, he looks so pretty as he wrecks you.

His gaze burns down at where you’re joined together, the creamy ring of your slick cum at the base of him, smearing down his thighs. His thrusts get sloppier, shuddering against you as he chases his high. You reach down and cup your hand around his balls, fondling and tugging them gently. Levi’s mouth falls open, his eyes going wide at the unexpected feeling. The look of shock on his face is intoxicating.

It drags him up and over the edge, and he bottoms out in you with a strangled cry, collapsing onto your chest as he shoots rope after rope of creamy cum. The thick warmth of him fills you as you stroke his back and brush the hair from his face, soothing him through is high.

He peels away from you with a shudder, gasping for breath, pupils blown wide in the gray sky of his eyes. He takes a moment just to breathe, coming back to himself before sliding out of you with a wet gush of your mixed cum. He wraps his arms around you and gathers you against his chest, pressing soft kisses to your salty skin.

“You okay?” He murmurs. “You were amazing.” 

You’re spent, your cunt still twitching from his exertions, and it takes all your energy to sleepily whisper back, “More than okay. That was wonderful.” You close your eyes and curl into him. “Sorry that we made a mess…”

He chuckles, his breath ruffling your hair. “I’ll wash these sheets if you don’t mind me staying a little longer.” He drapes his arm around your waist, tracing shapes on your hip, and the gentle caress lulls you even more. 

“Mmm, stay as long as you like.”

P.S. I BEG OF YOU no spoilers I’m watching AOT for the first time and just started S4!

All Tied Up With No Place To Go

sum: Reigen Arataka makes a house call only to find his client in a compromising situation, which he takes full advantage of.

cw: dubcon*, bdsm, sensory deprivation, sweaty loser Reigen // wc: 2346 // [ao3]

*spoiler explanation: Reigen is unaware until the end but the client had set up the scenario intentionally!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Reigen had died and gone to heaven. He knew it.

There was no way this was really happening. She was completely at his mercy, helpless and spread open like a birthday present, ribbons and all. 

—

He had come here for a house call, nothing out of the ordinary. The woman who called Spirits and Such sounded like a typical client. Said she had seen his advertisement in the train station and needed an exorcism urgently, something about feeling trapped in her home and needing his services.

He had been happy to oblige, especially when the desperation in her voice suggested he could swing an upsell to some sort of deluxe exorcism package. A little salt in the doorway, some hand-waving, and he’d be covered for this month’s office rent. Easy peasy.

Reigen had easily found the address she gave. He sighed at the sight of her broken elevator and struggled up the stairs, mopping the sweat from his brow by the eighth flight. “This had better be worth it." 

When no one answered his knock on the door, he’d been surprised to find it unlocked. He put on his most reassuring smile and flung open the door with a flourish. 

“Pardon me, ma’am! Reigen Arataka, at your service. Never fear, I will exorcise your curse easily, or I’m not the greatest psychic of the 21st century! Now, if I may show you our pricing packages…” he wandered into the apartment as he spoke.

“Ma’am? Anyone home?” His customer service voice echoed down the hallway.

Mmmphh… a muffled moan came from further inside.

“Ahh shit.” Reigen dragged his hand down his face. It sounded like someone might actually be in trouble. Maybe he should’ve brought Mob along.

He banged open the doors closest to him but found nothing but empty rooms. “Where is she?”

MMmmhh! There. He rounded a corner and…

“Oh fucking hell.” Reigen turned right around and walked back out the door on instinct, halfway back down the hall before he came to his senses and retraced his steps. He held his breath and peeked around the doorway.

The client was lying on a bed in the middle of the room, her arms and legs tied to each corner of the frame with silk ribbon. The silk ribbons were in fact the only fabric on her taut body, a detail that hit the con man like a ton of bricks. 

The woman had a blindfold over her eyes and didn’t seem to hear him. Stepping closer, he saw plugs nestled into the shell of her ears. Her red lips were slick with spit and stretched lewdly around a metal ring.

Reigen’s cock throbbed painfully against his suit pants and he swallowed hard. Just what the hell was going on here? He was frozen, his eyes glued to the ripple of her flesh as she twisted against the restraints. 

He nervously pulled at his pink tie. “Okay. Okay. Ma’am, can you hear me?” She didn’t pause her squirming or react to his voice, which was quite a few octaves higher than usual. 

God, she was so pretty. His cock twitched again, and the con man palmed it roughly through his pants for some relief as he raked his eyes over the woman.

He hadn’t even dared to look yet at… Fuck. Fresh sweat dampened the arms of his dress shirt as he took in the full extent of the scene before him. Her cunt was stuffed with a dildo, puffy lips clinging to the flared base as it stretched her out. It slid a few inches in and out as she bucked her hips. He watched open-mouthed.

Lust crawled up Reigen’s spine like a curse of his own. He hardly registered what he was doing as he approached the bed, one shaky hand reaching for her ankle. The moment his fingertips touched her skin, the woman whimpered around the metal in her mouth. Her chest heaved as she breathed hard, trying to stretch her arms and legs to reach for the source of the contact.

Encouraged by the sound, he stood between her legs at the edge of the bed and slid his fingertips up her calf. “You’re so soft…” he murmured.

He slowly dragged his hands up both her legs, caressing her thick thighs. The woman trembled and Reigen’s eyes widened as he noticed the dampness growing on the sheet below her.

“You like this?” He tried to sound seductive, but his voice cracked in disbelief. Ah well, she couldn’t hear him anyway. Bolder now, he pressed his hand against the base of the dildo, pushing it deeper inside her and holding it there.

Aaaahh! Her whimper was music to Reigen’s ears. He scrambled out of his gray jacket and threw it to the floor, then yanked down his slacks enough to release his cock, rock-hard and already oozing precum. 

He was dizzy with possibilities and his confidence was growing with the puddle of arousal underneath his client. He moved to the head of the bed and pressed his cock into her open palm, smearing precum along it. He thrust frantically into her bound hand, eyes closed in bliss. 

It felt like he had hardly started when his balls tightened and he felt the telltale burning in his stomach that warned he was near the edge. He slowed his hips in an attempt to back off from the cliff, but the woman suddenly curled her fingers around his shaft and squeezed. 

“Fucking hell, I’m-!” Reigen came hard, stifling his cry in his hand as his cock jumped and shot cum up his client’s arm. The man had never finished so fast and a blush burned his cheeks as he steadied his breath. He was abruptly a lot more grateful that she couldn’t see him.

“God, what a mess.” He loosened his tie and moved to clean the woman off, but then stopped and tilted his head, a cocky smile on his lips. “You do look pretty gorgeous like this, though. And it’s not like you’re going anywhere.”

Reigen sat down heavily on an armchair in the corner of the room and pulled a carton of cigarettes from his pocket, methodically tapping one out and lighting it. He groaned and leaned back as he inhaled deeply. 

"What are you doing?!” The rational part of his brain screamed at him.

“I’m fucking a beautiful, helpless client who specifically requested my services,” answered the growing bulge in his pants. 

He savored a few more drags of his cigarette, devouring the scene before him. The woman laid quietly on the bed, spread open, the dildo wantonly poking out from between her legs. Reigen’s cum lay in thick puddles on her arm and dripped from her fingers. He let the cigarette go out and stripped off his pants and sweat-soaked shirt, leaving the con man dressed in nothing but his socks and tie.

“If you’re just laying around, mind if I…?” Reigen crawled between his client’s legs, taking the opportunity to palm her breasts. She gasped and arched her back, pushing her tits into him. 

“You like that, huh?” He chuckled and pressed his lips to her nipple, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. He drank in her muffled sighs, then bit down gently. She squealed around her gag and he soothed the sore spot immediately with soft kisses. “So responsive. Good girl,” he purred.

“Now how would you like to taste the greatest psychic of the 21st century? I won’t even charge you extra.” He laughed at his own joke as he rubbed the tip of his cock against her strained lips. She squirmed and lifted her head closer to him, and his arrogance faltered a little at her enthusiasm. What a kinky bitch. She looked so deliciously lewd with her lips glossed in his precum.

“Open up, darling,” Reigen smirked, then pushed his cock into her helpless mouth. She took him eagerly, lapping the underside of his shaft with each thrust.

“Uhhngh you take me so…good…” he panted, shaking his head to clear the hair that kept falling into his eyes. He pushed in further and gaped at the sight of her throat bulging with him. This was unreal. He bent over her head, sliding to the hilt. His pink tie draped over her blindfolded eyes and nose as he bottomed out in her throat.

He suddenly remembered the toy filling her pussy, and shuddered in ecstasy. He was making her airtight, his blonde pubes shoved against her nose as her rode her face. He reached behind him to slowly pump the dildo in and out of her, rewarded with gasping moans whenever he paused his facefucking to let her breathe. His sweat dripped on to her cheeks, mixing with drool and tears from her efforts to take him. 

He sped up his attention on both ends, his heavy balls slapping her chin. His hand was drenched in her cum as she clenched down on the dildo, filling the room with pornographic squelches. Reigen felt his client’s throat spasm as she gagged and it flung him over the edge again. He yanked his cock from her throat and finished on her face, blown-out pupils locked on the thick ropes painting her hair, cheeks, and lips. He couldn’t help but also leave his bitter seed on her tongue, what with her mouth held open beneath him. He might’ve drooled a bit as she licked him off her lips and swallowed. 

“I don’t think we need this any more, do you?” Reigen slid the metal ring out of her mouth and she moaned in relief, stretching her aching jaw. He slowly pulled the dildo out of her and huffed a laugh at the gush of fluid that followed it. 

“I see you’ve been having a good time then too, angel. I’m not surprised, of course, given that I am THE Reigen Arataka, but still. It’s nice to see.” His speech was wasted on her, still blinded and deafened, but it turned him on to say it all the same.

“Now. There is one more place I’d like to enjoy you, if you don’t mind.” Arataka moved down her body, his limp cock hardening again as he teased her entrance. But rather than slip into her pussy, he gently kissed her lips. He could taste himself, but he enjoyed the dirtiness of the action. 

“I’m actually quite a skilled masseuse,” he murmured against her mouth. “Allow me to relieve some of that strain.” His skillful fingers worked the muscles around her jaw and neck, interspersed with sweet kisses. He was rewarded with the sight of her face relaxing, lips parting the tiniest bit at his touches. “You’ve done amazing,” he whispered.

Satisfied that she had been somewhat soothed by his expertise, he lined himself up with her slippery folds and buried himself in her cunt. He threw his head back as her walls clenched around him and sucked him deeper. Arataka brushed feathery kisses along her neck as he rutted into her, settling into a quick, hard rhythm that made her tits bounce with every thrust.

“You look so pretty on my cock baby…” he moaned, “I can’t believe I get to fuck you.” Knowing she couldn’t hear a word he said, Reigen gave in to his pleasure and stopped trying to sound quite so suave. “You like that? Take it all…” 

His client twitched and writhed underneath him, held open for his merciless assault on her sloppy cunt. The sounds of skin hitting skin fill the room and they’re both quickly soaked in his sweat and her wetness. 

He messily rubs at her swollen clit as he pounds her. She grows tighter and tighter around him. Without the ring gag, he can hear every little gasp and mewl he fucks out of her. Arataka’s world narrows to the expression on her face and the warm embrace of her pussy.

His hips stutter and lose all rhythm, nothing but a piston slamming into her as he chases his climax. When his third orgasm comes, it takes his breath and balance away. He falls into her, gasping for air. Reigen pulls out just in time to cover her bound body in his cum once more, smearing it across both of their stomachs where they’re pressed together.

He slides off her and curls into her used body. When he can move again without passing out he quietly slides his clothes back on. He finds a bathroom in that long hall and squints disapprovingly at the cum- and spit-stains splattered across his tie. He re-knots it carefully, then brings a warm, wet washcloth back to the bedroom.

He gently cleans the mess of their encounter off of the woman, following each swipe of the cloth with a brush of his lips. When she’s completely clean and dry he kisses her on the forehead and unties her limbs. He massages her wrists and ankles, chafed red from the restraints, and slips one silk ribbon in his pocket for…later use.

She reaches one freed hand up to her blindfold, but Arataka quickly places his hand over hers and pulls it back down, planting a kiss on the palm he came in.

Before she can unblind herself he’s out the door, hustling back down the long flight of stairs.

—

Reigen walked very slowly back to his office, still in a state of shock. He was exhaling a lungful of cigarette smoke when the phone rang.

“Reigen Arataka, psychic and owner of Spirits and Such Consultation, how can I help you?”

“I think you already did, Reigen.” His mouth goes dry at the familiar voice. “Thank you ever so much for your assistance today. I’ll be sure to call you the next time I’m feeling particularly cursed. ”

The brain of the greatest psychic of the 21st century short circuits and she’s hung up by the time he can string a sentence together.

He stares at his phone in his hand, a goofy grin on his face. He really hopes she’ll need his services again soon.

YOU GUYS ARE WRITING PORN ABOUT ME???

Nanami x Reader ~ Kento's Stress Toy

feat: fluff and smut, established relationship, body writing, rough sex, loving sex, praise, overstimulation, light bondage // wc: 4170 // [ao3]

Nanami was working overtime again. You both hated when it had to happen, and on a Friday after a particularly long week? Your poor husband would be coming home exhausted and cranky.

Not that he was ever mean to you, of course. In fact, sometimes you wished he would be just a little bit meaner. You fantasized about him taking out his frustration on you, using his chiseled body to fuck you like a pretty little toy.

It wasn’t your fault that he looked so goddamn sexy when he was mad. His brows would furrow, sharp cheekbones somehow even more prominent as he clenched his jaw. His broad hands, always so gentle with you, would curl into fists, and you couldn’t help imagining what it would feel like to have that fist in your hair, yanking your head back as he railed you…

Heat pooled in your belly as you indulged in the fantasy for the hundredth time. You wanted to see that side of Nanami, wanted to feel it. After all, he kept things so bottled up. It would do your husband good to work out some tension, right?

—

Nanami was exhausted and beyond tense when he finally came home. He couldn’t shed his work stress at the door as he usually did, his broad shoulders still hunched around his ears as he slowly loosened his tie and toed off his dress shoes.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called as he made his way through the kitchen, smiling tiredly as he saw that you’d put the kettle on for the two of you.

“I’m in here, Ken!” You called from the bathroom, frantically scribbling the last letters of your surprise in eyeliner. You eyed yourself approvingly in the mirror before slipping your clothes back on and heading out to meet him with a kiss.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. He relaxed just a fraction as he inhaled your scent, tucking his face into your neck. “I’ve had the longest day.”

You hummed. “I’m listening, baby. Tell me all about it.” He followed you into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he watched you make tea. You pushed a mug into his hands before hopping onto the counter opposite him.

Nanami closed his eyes appreciatively as he sipped his tea. “Perfect as always, my dear.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know what they want from me at that damn office. Actually, I do know, and it’s ridiculous. The sales goals are impossible to meet for anyone with a conscience.”

“Oh?” You had heard this before, but sometimes marriage meant letting your husband repeat himself. And if he worked himself up, so much the better for your little plan.

“Yes. They are. And my boss berated me in front of the whole team for trying to be honest with a new hire about the way things work.” He shook his head, gaining steam. “It’s completely unfair. The whole goddamn system.” Nanami scowled into his mug.

“I’m so sorry, my love. That sounds awful.”

Nanami moved closer to you, nestling himself between your legs and leaning against your chest. Atop the kitchen counter was one of the few places you could be taller than your mountain of a husband, and you never wasted the opportunity. You ran your hand through his hair, scratching gently at his undercut.

“It’s the weekend, my love,” you murmured. “You don’t have to think about those bastards again for a few days. It’s just you and me.”

He softened a bit. “Just you and me, hm? Forgive me, dear. You know I hate bringing work home.”

“Nothing to forgive.” You bit your lip. This is where you’d make your move. “I just wish there was something I could do to help relax you.”

He had been with you long enough to recognize the suggestive lilt in your voice. “Oh, do you? You’re sweet, love. But there’s nothing to be done.”

“Nothing at all?” You ask, tugging at the buttons on his collar.

He tilted his head, wordlessly allowing you access to begin undoing them. You smooth your fingertips over the freckles at his neck, the collarbone constellations you love so much.

You’re halfway down his chest when he catches your wrists in one hand, an apologetic smile on his lips. “I adore you, but I don’t think I’m exactly in the mood to make love. I don’t want any thoughts of work to distract me from you.”

“Who said we had to make love?” You lean back to look him in the eyes as you offer the challenge, relishing the flush that crawls up his cheeks.

“Angel…”

“I mean it, Kento. I want you to use me.” Heat pools in your stomach at the vulnerable words. “Use me to fuck out all your tension, all the work bullshit. I’m all yours.”

Nanami’s wide eyes drink you in, his heart pounding. He couldn’t hide how much your words affected him, least of all how painfully hard he suddenly was, cock jumping against his slacks.

You pressed your hand against his growing bulge with a soft smile. You knew all his weaknesses. “Please, baby. I wanna make you feel good.”

He pressed his forehead against yours with a ragged sigh. “You undo me, you know that?”

You guided his hands to your waist, lifting your hips so he could pull off your shorts. He huffed a laugh against your neck. “Eager, are we?”

You bit your lip, hardly able to contain your excitement as he grew closer to unveiling your surprise. “Yes, take them off already…”

You felt him smile against your skin as he finally stripped them off, rubbing teasing circles against your cunt through your damp panties.

“Those too,” you whined, bucking your hips against his hand.

“Such a needy little thing,” he murmured, gently teasing as he slid them off. You watched his face, rewarded with the sight of your stoic husband’s mouth falling open. His fingers dug into your hips unconsciously, hard enough to bruise, and you loved it.

“M-my love,” he breathed, eyes locked on what you’d written in black eyeliner just above your cunt.

Kento’s Stress Toy.

He released one of your hips to trace the words with shaky fingers, his touch almost reverent. “What is this?”

You smiled up at him, cheeks burning with exhilaration. “It’s the truth. I’m your stress toy tonight, Ken.”

He closed his eyes and swore under his breath. “I…I don’t want to disrespect you, angel.”

“But I want you to,” you whispered. You pulled him closer by the speckled tie that still hung loose around his neck. “I know you love me. And I love you…all of you.” You let your hungry gaze fall on his tense muscles, the way his shirt strained at his shoulders. “I want to feel all of you. If you’ll give it to me.”

He watched as you slowly lifted your shirt, letting your breasts fall out. One was adorned with the word “fuck”, and the other with “doll”, your handwriting curling along the top of each tit.

Nanami groaned , the sound going straight to your aching cunt. He roughly palmed your breasts, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Oh, my dear …”

“Your doll ,” you correct, gently tugging his lip free with a smirk. “Will you play with me?”

“God yes.” Nanami scooped you off the counter and into his arms, heading straight for the bedroom as you clung to him and giggled.

You hadn’t even made it through the doorway when he crashed his lips into yours, rough and needy. His tongue swiped against your bottom lip impatiently, pushing into your mouth. “You taste perfect, my love,” he breathed, “but I need more…” 

He crossed the room and dropped you onto the bed, shoving a pillow underneath your hips as he rolled you onto your stomach. He settled himself behind you, his weight sagging the mattress so you were pulled even closer to him. He surveyed you with a low groan, drinking in the lewd sight of your ass up and your dripping, exposed cunt. 

“May I?” He always asked before he tasted you, but his voice was strained tonight, eyes locked on your glistening pussy. 

“ Please, ” you sighed, hardly able to draw a breath before Nanami was devouring you. He was messy , dragging his nose against your slit as he lapped up the slick that was already spiderwebbing between your thighs. When you tensed your legs reflexively he pulled away with a pout.

“Said you were gonna be my toy , hm love?” He held your thighs in a bruising grip and pried your legs apart. “Need to relieve my stress, right?” Your face was pressed against the bed but you could still feel the weight of his stare. He was practically panting for you, and you suddenly wondered if you’d be able to handle what you’d be wanting so badly.

With your legs held out of the way he dove back in, flattening his tongue against your lips in long, languid strokes before licking into your sopping cunt. “Be a good girl and keep these open,” he murmured as he gave your thigh a light smack, grinning as you trembled from the impact. 

He brushed the back of his hand against your lips, spreading them open and dipping his knuckles into you as he kept his tongue working. 

“Oh please, baby, fill me,” you babbled, but he was already there, sliding two thick fingers into your cunt effortlessly. He pulled his face away to look up at you adoringly. 

“Look how good you are for me. Needed me that bad?” His lips were glossed in your essence, a string of slick still connecting them to you as he pumped his fingers with a wet smacking sound. 

“Yes, hah-fuck- needed you…wan’ you to use me, angel…”

“I know love, I know.” He added a third finger, grinning at the gasp it tore from you as he sucked your clit into his mouth. “And I will, soon as you come on my face, okay?”

“This is…s’posed to be about you ,” you protested weakly, finding it hard to argue when he had you melting underneath him.

“I know, my darling. So sweet of you to offer yourself as a pretty little present for me. My naughty little wife, knowing I had such a long, hard day…” his eyes darkened, wanting to rail into you right then and there, but he caught himself with the superhuman restraint you so hated and admired. “But first I have to get you ready to take me, don’t I? Want you all warmed up so I can fuck you exactly how I want.” 

He pressed sloppy kisses to your cunt, sucking at your clit as he stretched your needy hole around his fingers. Scissoring them in and out of you, heavy-lidded eyes on the way you coated him with your arousal. He reached up to press his dripping fingers to your lips, shoving them against your tongue. “Clean your mess.”

You sucked at him eagerly, ignoring the strain in your neck as you twisted back to face him. He dragged his sharp jaw between your thighs, suckling and nipping at the sensitive skin. 

“Come for me, beautiful. Come so I can fuck my toy,” he purred, flicking his tongue against your clit faster and faster in the rhythm he knew you loved. 

“Ken, don’t stop, please, I’m…!!” You saw stars as you crumpled into the bed, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your legs shook at the force of it, but Nanami didn’t slow his assault, still rolling his tongue over you as you bucked into his mouth. 

“ Ugh it’s too much, I can’t,” you protested weakly, struggling to your knees as you tried to crawl away from his greedy tongue. 

“Ah ah, beautiful. You’re all mine, remember?” He locked his strong forearms around your thighs, holding you down. “You’re not going anywhere.” He buried his face between your legs again, licking up higher and higher, lapping up every drop of your release. 

He pulled you tighter against him, your ass practically smothering him as you were forced to arch your back harder, grateful for the pillow he’d balanced you on. “Mmmm that’s it baby, grind on my tongue.”

Your face burned at the words, but he was already lifting you effortlessly, rocking you back against his face in a steady rhythm that had his tongue slipping deep into your cunt.

You hardly had a chance to breathe before your second orgasm was creeping up on you, an overwhelming intensity that you were helpless to escape from as Nanami held you to himself. He kept going even as you shuddered into another peak, his hands kneading into the fat of your hips and ass. 

Your vision went fuzzy as you scrabbled at the bedsheets, desperately trying to cling to something, anything to ground you. Overstimulated tears pooled in your eyes, every nerve ending on fire with the intensity of your pleasure. 

Hoarse, fucked-out moans were all you could manage in response to Nanami’s stream of praises, telling you how good you were, how pretty you looked gushing for him. He finally pulled away with one last soft kiss to your hole, making it clench around nothing. 

“You’re so perfect, love,” he sighed, smoothing his hands over your hair, your back, brushing his lips over your neck. “You’re not done yet, are you?” He pulled off his tie in one smooth motion, trailing the fabric down your spine to watch you squirm. “I’ve had such a very long day. I’ve been so tense , my dear.”

“Not done,” you panted, turning onto your back and reaching up to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. You pulled his hand down to trace the words you had written on your skin again, reminding him of what you were. All his. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured. He slipped his tie around your wrists, pulling them together in a loose hold. He slowly stretched your arms above your head, pinning your wrists easily with one hand. He trailed his mouth back down your arms, gentle kisses and nips at the soft skin until his face hovered over yours. 

“Are you ready, darling? I’m going to take you up on your very generous offer.” Your husband’s soft eyes glinted with something sharp as he freed himself from his slacks. 

You nodded, feeling your wrecked cunt start to throb again at the sight of his cock, achingly hard and drooling pre already. As much as he’d already done to you, though, you still had a few cards to play. 

You wriggled your wrists out of his grip, still bound by his tie, and reached down to stroke his cock. Lightly at first, watching through your eyelashes as he threw his head back, throat bared and jaw clenched. You gently pulled him closer, slotting his swollen head between your folds, just barely letting him press into you. 

Nanami hissed through his teeth, dark eyes desperate as you teased him. “My love, don’t, hah - don’t be mean , I need you too badly…”

Electricity surged up your spine at his neediness. This was exactly where you’d wanted him. “I won’t be mean, baby, that’s your job tonight. Why don’t you tell me about your day?”

“My day,” he huffed an impatient laugh. “You know how it was. It was shit.” He bucked his hips against you, trying to get deeper, but you held him back, still stroking his tip and nothing more. You were lying in a pool of your own slick now, torturing yourself as much as him. 

“Oh?” You rocked your hips forward suddenly, forcing his whole head into you, then went still again. 

Nanami whimpered . “What do you want me to say? Work is shit .” His hands were trembling, clenching and unclenching at his sides as he watched where you dragged him against yourself. 

“That’s it, baby. Aren’t you frustrated? Don’t you want to let your fuck doll make it all better?” Your words were calculated, flung at him with the most seductive look you had in your arsenal, lips pursed in an empty-headed little pout that you knew he had a guilty weakness for. If you knew your Kento, he wouldn’t be able to resist… there. 

Nanami surged forward, pushing your hands out of the way and back above your head, your back arching obscenely as he slammed himself to the hilt in your cunt. “This is what you wanted my dear, isn’t it? This is what you’ve been waiting for,” he growled, not needing an answer. He kneaded your tits, the fuck doll label smearing under his touch. 

He shoved your knees up to your ears, nearly folding you in half as he rutted into you with a force you’d never felt, hips smacking against yours with bruising strength. 

“Work.” “Was.” “Shit.”

He punctuated each word with a sharp spank to your ass. He roughly palmed the reddening skin, swallowing your cries with a messy, open-mouthed kiss. He buried his face in your neck as he kept up a punishing rhythm, heavy balls slapping against you with each mean thrust. 

“All fucking day I have to listen to idiots tell me what to do. All fucking day I have to sit in a cubicle, ripping people off…” he pulled out slowly, dragging his cock against your walls so you could feel every throbbing vein. 

“And you know what I think about all fucking day, my love?” He whispered the pet name into your ear, making you shiver. “What keeps me going?”

“This.” 

He slammed into you without warning, every inch bullying into you, the breath ripped from your lungs. When he bottomed out he held you there, grinding against you, making you clench and twitch against the sheer depth of him, filling you impossibly deep. 

“I think about this . About coming home to my pretty wife and fucking her senseless .” His whispers were harsh against your neck, his voice ragged. Your mouth was stretched in a scream, sure you’d wake the neighbors if not for your husband’s heavy hand coming down on your mouth. 

“You’re always so good for me, always so happy to see me…sometimes I wish I could show those fucks at the office exactly what I come home to, just to watch them burn with jealousy.” His kisses grew rougher, sucking and biting at your neck, laying claim to your skin. 

“Wish I could mark you up like this and have you come visit me the next day, wearing some tight, low-cut dress that shows them all exactly how you’re mine. How little anything else could possibly matter to me…” he shudders against you, his fantasy overwhelming. “Maybe have you crawl under my desk and take care of me right there, since you wanna be my little stress toy, hm?” 

Your mind is scattered, trying desperately to focus on his words and the increasingly difficult act of staying sane as he fucks you into oblivion. Your eyes roll back as another orgasm builds, his cock reaching a secret spot deep inside of you, sending you over the edge again. 

The new height of pleasure makes you stupid, babbling into his chest as he fucks you through it, gasping for air from the press of him folding you in half. “Yes, please Ken, I’d do it, wanna be your fuck doll, need this, need you, need… nnghhh! ” 

“That’s it gorgeous, my beautiful toy, my perfect love, come on my cock, come from me using you like this…” Nanami’s brows are knit together, his face twisted with concentration as he pumps into you again and again and again, his rhythm never faltering, he’s nothing if not consistent, ramming into your sweet spot over and over until you’re not sure where you start and he ends. 

The base of his cock is decorated with a soft white ring of the cream that’s still leaking out of you, and he moans at the sight. “God you’re such a mess for me, I don’t think I’ve ever felt you this wet, darling…” He smiles down at you, looking angelic even as he tries to break the bed in half. “And from writing such filthy things on your perfect body…you were soaked just waiting for me to come home and see this, weren’t you? Naughty little thing.” 

You moan helplessly in answer, unable to deny it. This was everything you’d wanted and more. Your eyes slide shut of their own volition, and he gently taps your cheek. “Oh no, my dear, not yet. Don’t worry, I won't break my toy.” He slows, just barely, letting you breathe. 

He traces his fingertips over the words between your hips again, reverent. “What does this say again, angel? What are you?”

“Kento’s stress toy…” you murmur. 

“Mmm, that’s right. And you’re being such a good one,” he praised. “My brilliant wife, with such wonderful ideas.” He kisses you softly on the lips, the tenderness almost shocking. “Can you be a good toy for a little bit longer?”

You nod your head eagerly, though you don’t think you can move much else. Your arms and legs feel like (well-fucked) jello, the tie around your wrists almost forgotten in the sea of other, stronger sensations. 

Nanami seems to remember it at the same moment, tsking apologetically as he slips it off of you and rubs your arms. “Are your wrists okay, my love?” 

You almost laugh at the sudden return of soft, protective Kento. “Yes, they’re fine. It’s all fine. I feel amazing.” 

“You are amazing,” he soothes. “In that case, can you hold on to me?” He drapes your arms over his neck, holding himself steady against your hips. 

“Just like that.” And he’s fucking you again, in the way only he can, fast and hard and precise. You’re grateful for the grip around his neck as he pulls you up and over his lap, lifting and dropping you onto his cock like you’re weightless. 

“Kento ohhhh!!” You dig your nails into his back instinctively, biting back a scream as you feel his cock jump inside of you in response. You don’t need to be told twice, raking your nails over his back as he uses you mercilessly. 

He’s back to muttered praises, his honey-silk voice adoring as his cock splits you in half. You’re drunk on the dichotomy, dizzy with lust and love for the man beneath you. 

He leans forward and tips you back onto the bed, his muscled arms caging you in as he continues pistoning into you. Sweat drips from his face to yours, and you dart your tongue out to lick the droplets away. Somehow, that of all things makes him blush, dark red dusting his cheeks as he watches the act. 

You reach a shaky hand up to brush back the strands of hair that have fallen into his eyes, and he catches your arm to press greedy kisses to the inside of your wrist. 

“Ken- Kento, I love you,” you moan, every stroke of his cock sending electricity down your limbs, your whole body tuned to him, undone and rewired in ecstasy. 

“I love you,” he groans, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, his powerful thrusts finally, finally stuttering as he nears his peak. “I love you, I love you, I love you, fuck I love you…” 

Nanami came with a broken cry, his cock pumping what seemed like an endless stream of hot, thick seed into the deepest part of you, his arms shaking from the effort of keeping himself up. You pulled him down onto you, stroking at his hair as he shuddered in the aftermath of his orgasm. 

You lay there in blissful quiet, sweat and slick sticking your skin together, feeling each other’s wild heartbeats begin to slow. Nanami reluctantly pulled out of you with an over-sensitive groan and curled into your side, his head on your chest. You ran your hands over his hair, his neck, his back, proud to feel the tension slowly leave his tired body. 

“Do you feel better, Kento?” You asked, happily exhausted. 

He laughed out loud, wrapping his arms around you and shifting to curl you into his side. “I’ve never been more relaxed in my life, my love. I can’t even remember what I do for work.” He kissed the top of your head and sighed contentedly. “You were incredible. Thank you, darling.” He pulled you closer. “I think I might be out sick on Monday, for that matter…”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I’ll always be your stress relief, my love.”

“And I’ll be yours,” he smiled. “What did you use to write this, anyway?” 

“Oh it’s an old eyeliner!” Your laugh turned into a yawn. 

“Mm, good to know. For when I return the favor,” Nanami said, but you were already fast asleep in his arms. 

I just finished watching cowboy bebop for the first time oh my GOD I’m combusting

Imagine Nanami Kento waking up from anesthesia after surgery, his bleary and unfocused gaze landing on you (his wife) standing beside him and holding his hand in yours. You smile at him warmly, softly reassuring him that he's okay and that you're right here beside him as he stares at you silently.

Nanami looks down at your joined hands, his gaze seems to focus on the wedding band adorning his ring finger. He stares at it for a moment before looking back up at you.

"Who are you?" He slurs, his words sloshy and imprecise. So unlike him, and so very adorable. "Are you a nurse?"

You giggle at Nanami's question.

"No, I'm not a nurse."

Nanami seems puzzled at your response. His brows furrow as his fingers move against yours, thumb stroking across your knuckles in that gentle motion he always does to sooth you. Your smile widens. Looks like there are some things that even ketamine can't erase.

"Wow. You got the most gorgeous smile. Are you a model? You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my whole life. You got really pretty teeth too..."

Kento's fingers tighten around yours, his voice falling into a groggy whisper.

"But...I think I'm married. We shouldn't be holding hands like this."

You bite your lip, fighting against the bubbling laughter in your throat and failing.

"O-Oh?"

Nanami nods, his expression shifting from one of appreciative awe to adorable seriousness.

"I want to be a good husband."

Well that just about melted your whole damn heart. Even the hospital staff in the background can't repress their "awww"s and "that's a keeper"s.

"Don't worry, you are a wonderful husband, Kento. I know that for sure."

He's confused again, those unfocused honey brown's searching yours, trying to figure out the situation as best as he can given the circumstances.

"How do you know?"

You raise your left hand, bringing it into his line of sight and wiggle your ring finger, the golden band surrounding it captures Nanami's attention in an instant.

"Because I'm your wife."

Nanami's eyes instantly grow wide, his expression morphing into one of childlike wonder.

"You're my wife?"

You laugh.

"Yes."

He squeezes your hand with a surprising amount of strength given that he was knocked out cold not that long ago.

"We're really married?"

"Yes."

"Wow..." Kento breathes, drifting off for a moment before asking you another question. "Have we kissed yet?"

His innocent yet hilarious question sends you into another fit of laugher.

"Y-yes! Many times."

Nanami rewards you with a dopey smile, his gaze so utterly loving, enchanted by your unrestrained joy.

"My wife." He murmurs adoringly, his fingers reaching up to caress your cheek.

"I love hearing you laugh." His palm cups your face. "You really are so beautiful. I hit the jackpot, didn't I?"

Grinning from ear to ear, you press a tender kiss to Kento's fingertips before guiding his hand back down to the bed.

"Alright sweetest man alive, you need to stop talking before you make every person in this room fall in love with you. I'm going to grab a snack for us for later. I'll be right back, okay?"

Kento nods.

"Okay. Can I get another kiss when you come back?"

ex!Toji x Reader ~ Make You Better

Part 2! [Part 1]

sum: Your ex shows up on your doorstep one night, months after disappearing on you without a word. He’s also bleeding out from a stab wound.

feat: hurt/comfort, emotional!Toji // wc: 1300 // [ao3]

The first thing Toji thought when he opened his eyes was that absolutely everything hurt. It felt like he’d been run over by a bus. The second thing Toji thought was that he had died and against all odds, ended up in heaven, with an angel sitting right in front of him. The third thing Toji thought was that he was a dumbass.

“Oh my god, you’re awake!” You, the angel in question, lean forward with wide eyes that tell him more about his condition than any aches and pains.

“Damn, I scared ya that bad, huh?” Toji tries to smile, but it slides off his face and lands somewhere next to the bed.

You attempt to soften your face into neutrality. “Scared me? Nah, of course not. But you weren’t looking too good for a while there.” Your eyebrows pinch and you trail off, lost in the memory of the last two days.

When he collapsed, you’d managed to drag a semi-conscious Toji to your bed and install him with every pillow and blanket you had. You had hardly slept, changing his bandages when he bled through and watching anxiously for signs of infection. You called in a favor owned by a friend from school and set your unwilling patient up with an IV drip and a heart monitor, making your bedroom into a makeshift hospital room. You knew it would be too risky to take the man to a real one.

He was lucid very rarely, croaking apologies and curses while trying to pull out the IV like he was some action movie hero. Thankfully he slept most of the time, and you found yourself staring at the way everything about him softened in sleep, the sardonic lines of his face smoothed into a gentleness that took years off him.

Playing nurse, even without his gratitude, threatened to pull you back into the complicated mess of feelings you’d had for your boyfriend, before he made himself an ex. It was easier when he was helpless, as fucked up as that was. Some tiny, guilty part of you was reassured by the fact that he couldn’t possibly get into worse trouble, that he was relatively safe while confined to your apartment and a saline drip.

The thoughts churned through your mind all at once, and Toji mustered up the strength to wave a hand in front of your unfocused eyes. “You okay there, doll?”

You jumped and looked back at him. “Of course. How are you feeling? Are you feverish, or in pain anywhere? New pain, I mean. Besides where you were stabbed.”

He’s still looking at you like you have a screw loose, but he gingerly shifts in the bed and takes inventory of himself. One bruised, battered body, one new hole in the gut, a monster of a headache, a dry throat, and a shame at being caught here that was crushing his chest. He decided quickly to offer you the easiest problem. “Just a little thirsty.”

”I can fix that, at least.” You grin a little manically, relieved to be given a task that got you out of the room, and leave to pour him a glass of water. By the time you return to the sickroom, he’s hoisted himself up against the pillows in a sitting position.

You move to hold the glass to his lips as you have for the last few days and nights, but he rolls his eyes and reaches for it himself. His strong hands tremble with the weight of the glass, and water sloshes onto his chin and chest. You quickly catch the bottom of the glass and tip it back up, helping him aim the water down his throat until the glass is emptied and set down.

Toji stares at his shaking hands like he can’t believe they’ve betrayed him. He doesn’t meet your eyes when he mumbles, “Thanks.” He closes his eyes and turns his face to the wall, poorly faking sleep.

“Toji, don’t feel bad, you’re still recovering-” he cuts you off with a loud snore and you stifle a laugh. “I don’t mind taking care of you,” you whisper.

He doesn’t answer, but you catch the slight loosening of his shoulders at the reassurance. “I’m glad you came back to me,” you continue hesitantly. “Really glad. I missed you, Toji.” The confession hangs heavy between your bodies.

He opens his eyes cautiously, like you’re a bright light. “I missed you too. But I’m not glad I’m back. Not like this.” His hands are still shaking as he drags them down his face, hiding a trembling lip. “I’m sorry.” You sense that he’s not done talking, and stay quiet.

“I’m sorry for everything. Sorry I’m here now, and that I wasn’t before. Sorry I couldn’t be someone else.” A bitter smirk twists his scarred lips. “I tried, and this is where it got me.”

As if on cue, his phone vibrates on the bedside table, Shiu Kong’s name blazing across the screen. You both watch it buzz until it goes dark again. Toji lifts his eyebrows at you. “See, doll? I’m sorry, but this is all I am.” His raised hands encompass his battered body and the plaintive beeps of the heart monitor.

You step closer and sit down on the edge of the bed, nervous hands smoothing the sheets over his torso. “I know. I’ve always known. You never hid that from me. I just…it’s hard to watch someone you love get hurt, over and over. Hard to wonder if they’ll make it home each night.”

”Someone you…love?” Toji struggles further upright so he can look you in the eyes, incredulous and shaky from the effort. You don’t answer, barreling on with your speech as his heart monitor ticks faster.

“But if that’s what it means to be with you, if I’m the one you’re coming home to…Toji, I’ll do it.”

His face twists silently, and it takes you a few seconds to realize that Toji Fushiguro is crying. The whole world seems to tilt, the ground slipping out from underneath you. Before you can speak, he reaches up and pulls you to his chest in a crushing embrace. You feel his broad shoulders shake as he holds you, tears falling into your hair. He’s as warm as you remember, a human space heater smelling like cheap, smoky cologne.

“I’m here, I’m here,” you murmur into his shirt, not sure if he can even hear you. You want to drown in him, to stretch this moment out forever so neither of you have to figure out what comes next.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore,” he said raggedly. “Wanna be good for you, mama. You deserve so much better than me.”

You pull reluctantly out of his grasp and take his face in your hands, thumbing away the tears on his cheeks. “You’re what I want, Toji.”

He’s never been touched like this, never let anyone touch him like this. The Sorcerer Killer is breaking down in your hands, in your bed.

“I love you.” He says the words like they’re the only true thing in the universe.

“I love you.” You lean him back against the pillows, careful to keep his IV from catching on the tangled sheets. “I love you, Toji.”

He closes his eyes, his breath gradually steadying. You stroke his choppy hair as he falls asleep, hoping he’ll still feel comforted in unconsciousness.

When you’re sure that he’s sleeping soundly, you gently get up from the bed and make your way to the kitchen. You dial the number quickly, glancing over your shoulder as if there’s any chance Toji could get out of bed on his own in this state.

“Shiu? It’s me. He’s awake. Well, asleep again, but- yeah. Come now.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

requested tags: @haydensjw @planetxella

cw: divorced dad!toji, unprotected sex, shy guy!, oral f+m receiving, face sitting, mentions of parenthood and alcohol, blowjobs, creampies, fluff, 18+

masterlist

dad!toji having sex for the first time since the end of his previous marriage. he's not nervous—pfft, no. not at all.

his hands are shaking, but he drinks a lot of coffee in order to be able to keep up with his kids, so it's just the caffeine; his chest rises quickly the lower your hands move, but he's just excited. can you really blame him? and fine, maybe he's been hard since you placed your hand on his thigh, but he's not that old and still a man with urges. it has nothing to do with nerves. nothing at all.

a couple of half-full glasses and a bottle of wine are abandoned on the coffee table, the television glowing and humming behind your back. his kids are gone, the house is empty, and he's antsy underneath your tender hands—in fact, his cheeks have been ruddy since you peeled his shirt off. now, clad in just his boxers and blown pupils, his stubbled jaw is permanently slack as he gazes down at you like the way you nuzzle his hard, covered length is divine.

"h-haven't done this in a while." he grunts as you mouth over his bulge, soaking his boxers. his thighs spread wider on the couch, happy trail dimly lit by the soft lamp in the corner of the living room. "might be a little—"

he swallows a moan and runs his hand down his face—is he trembling?—when you tug at the waistband of his underwear, thick cock smeared with precum slapping against his fuzzy stomach with an obscene plap. you lick your lips and glance up at him, an abashed, conflicted look on his face, brows furrowed and eyes dark like moss.

languidly, you blink up at him, breathing in musk and soap. it's simple—perfect. you purr, "gonna suck you off now, 'kay?"

your nails tease his big thighs, breaths leaving you in abrupt pants, ghosting over the tip of him.

he nearly spills all over your lips at the sound of your voice. you aren't much better off; you squeeze your legs together, an ache between them. he's mouthwatering to absorb, bulky limbs and dark hair and hot, pulsing flesh begging for your mouth, and his hands are lovingly cupping your head, letting you lead. he doesn't know that you're nervous, too, and it makes him want to die.

what were you expecting when you took him into your mouth for the first time, dipping your tongue beneath his uncut skin, tasting and teasing? the sound of his broken, guttural moan when your nose buries into the coarse hair at the base of him is better than any idea or expectation you conjured. thick fingers keep your hair back, his kissed lips gaping as he watches you.

he never bucks or thrusts, allowing you to work him into a rigid mess of spit and pre until he's pulling you off with a wet pop, embarassed and aroused, too close to release so early into the night.

he handles you from your knees in a firm, rough grip, muttering gruffly about sitting and my face as he fall back haphazardly onto the couch, dragging your panties down your legs and patting his chest in an easy gesture. well? it says, are you going to sit or what?

it's almost clinical, how he goes about this, the way he operates. it could be his age or his confidence as an older man, maybe his pride. he stripped you with ease and placed one single bruising peck on your lips before collapsing and waiting for you to get atop him. the way he devours you, though is anything but clean and tactful.

you clutch the couch so you don't keel over, eyes shut and weak, raspy moans leaving you each time he sucks you into his mouth. his arms band over your thighs, keeping you still against him, black, shiny hair in disarray from your yanking and pulling.

"baby, baby," he murmurs. "keep moving like that, yeah, just like that—"

his chin—god, it's covered in arousal and slobber, each rock of your cunt against his face slicker than the last.

you're ruined for future hookups. this man is going to ruin you, with his fond amusement and greenwood eyes and practiced touches; his lived-in home and working hands and taste in music. you leave the words about how much you want this to be serious unsaid. so does he.

he had a lot of time to practice going down on a woman, so it's no wonder you come with a desperate cry before you can stop yourself, rhythm stuttering when you earnestly grind, clit throbbing. rolls of his tongue on your center are delicate, endless pupils looking up at you through lashes, collecting what's drooling out of you with soft swipes and encouraging squeezes to your legs.

there's a moment when your limbs are weak and quivering over him. when you both look at each other.

"good?" he asks, soothing the ache with a kiss, making you shiver. "was it good?"

the silence is comfortable. satiated. full of pleasure and the giddiness of returning it.

it's the same silence when he reaches for a condom and you tell him you don't need it. the same kind of silence when he spreads you open and dazedly stares at the part of you that's about to be filled with him. your folds brush his slit when he experimentally rolls his hips from where he kneels between your legs, a sticky web connecting both of you.

that same silence when he bottoms out in you in one thrust, the first warm wetness he's felt in years, the blood rushing to his head and cock as it twitches and jolts inside you. the stretch would have been painful if you weren't so liquid from his mouth—if he hadn't taken your hands in his and pinned them into the couch, kissing your neck, your shoulder, melting you to a puddle.

he moves into you like he's molded for you, some innate understanding making it so he pushes just hard enough so it's perfect—just slow enough that you need more. he needs to fill you. it's the only thing he thinks about as he inhales the curve of your neck, your walls convulsing. this is good. better than good—this is perfect. euphoric, his sex-addled, hungry brain decides.

decades of experience thrust inside of you, making you whine and clench. he pushes through your reflexive resistance, cooing in your ear, voice breaking. his words come out filthy and debased, breaths about how you take him in and how drenched you're getting the two of you. he can't last—and he doesn't even care.

"fuck, you feel perfect—god, baby, gonna come already. shit, sorry, sorry."

half-hearted, throaty apologies fan against your ear. he jerks once before seating himself as deep as he can inside you, unloading, sack spasming. he falls apart in clumsy movement and laughs when he catches himself peaking like a teenage boy during his first time, low voice spreading warmth through your belly when you shatter with his dick still sunken in you.

he insists you stay the night. he makes you pancakes the morning after and goes down on you on the kitchen counter. he loses at scrabble and eats you out as your prize. he makes you laugh. his kids will love you, he's sure of it.

he wants—needs—another night just like this one. he needs a thousand more like it.

IM SAT ☺️☺️

YOUR DAD!NANAMI AND KID!YUUJI IS SO CUTE AND SO HEARTFELT AND OMG I LOVE IT SO MUCH. It feels like it’s really them, your understanding of their characters and personalities, esp nanami and gojo are spot on 😚🥰🫶🏼👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

THIS IS SO KIND omg thank you so so much!!!

road tripping with the jjk men

Satoru Gojo is a passenger princess. His bag is full of snacks, with extras in the glove compartment just in case. He sings along with you to 2000s pop and falls asleep with his mouth open, snoring in a seat that’s pushed all the way back to make room for his long-ass legs.

Suguru Geto drives and asks you to put on the custom playlist he’s made for the trip. He sings along to every song, windows down, and needs you to lean over and tie up his hair when it gets messy from the wind. He claims he can drive for hours without getting tired, but gets the strongest energy drink he can find when you stop for gas.

Kento Nanami downloads a bunch of podcasts for the trip, but you both get bored after an hour and you queue up his emo kid playlist from 2008. You both sing at the top of your lungs, and he keeps one hand on your thigh for the rest of the drive, smiling at you as he squints over his green-tinted sunglasses.

Hiromi Higuruma is locked in. His GPS is set, gas tank is full, tires all topped off with air. You don’t have to think about anything except getting comfy in the passenger seat. Listens to audiobooks. When you get bored, you tease him with dirty talk until he’s flustered and threatening to pull over, but you know he loves it.

Choso Kamo convinces you to let him drive after the first few hours because he feels bad making you do it all. He wants to fight anyone who dares to honk at you. If it starts raining, he’s white-knuckling the steering wheel and going 20mph under the speed limit. Honestly you’re not even sure how he has a license…

Toji Fushiguro smokes out the window and asks for road head fifteen minutes into the trip. You roll your eyes and don’t oblige, but you do let him reach over and feel you up as he steers with one hand. He lets you pick the music but asks for gas money. Definitely speeds, but you feel very safe when he drives.

Bonus:

Yuji would love stopping at every weird roadside attraction. World’s biggest ball of yarn? He’s there taking selfies and buying you a souvenir.

Megumi seems like he’d drive, but he actually prefers when you take the wheel so he can hold your hand and DJ.

Bakery Girl and Salaryman ~ Ch. 2

Nanami found your number!! I feel like he would be so awkward and out of practice when it comes to dating, but would do his best to be the gentleman you deserve // [ao3]

It’s been three days since Nanami last came in. You tell yourself you shouldn’t care, but your nerves are wound tight. What if he was offended that you gave him your number? Not that it was you, exactly, but how would he know? He probably has a beautiful, sexy, rich girlfriend, and the two of them are probably making fun of the frazzled bakery girl this very second.

You knead this morning’s batch of dough with extra intensity as you torture yourself. He might never come in again. Your heart drops as you remember his admission that the local convenience store stopped selling his favorite sandwiches. Oh god. Did you embarrass yourself so much that he’s giving up sandwiches forever?!

You huff your bangs off your forehead, pushing up your uniform hat with a floury elbow. Okay, maybe you’re losing it a little. You squint at your friend, who lingers uncomfortably in the kitchen doorway. She kept up the teasing at first, but her enthusiasm had dwindled by the second Nanami-less afternoon. Today she’s positively reserved, flashing you pitying glances when she thinks you aren’t paying attention.

It may be technically her fault, but you don’t want your own tension to infect her. You offer a smile, making room at the countertop. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Whatever happens, happens.”

Her shoulders slumped in relief as she joined you. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d quit coming around…I overstepped.”

“Honestly, I would’ve given him my number myself if I had the guts. If that scares him off, he’s not the guy for me.” You shrug it off, false optimism sugar-coating your voice, but she doesn’t notice.

The awkwardness fades as you both fall back into the workday routine, filling the display window with fresh pastries and cheerfully greeting sleepy commuters on their way to work. You do your best to force Nanami out of your mind, resolutely ignoring the fact that you will be off work the next few days. If you don’t get some sort of resolution today, the stress will sit in your stomach until you clock back in.

That’s the thought on your mind when you head out on your break, turning the corner at the end of the street to head for your favorite bento stand, when you see him.

Nanami is standing across the street from you, one hand in his pinstriped pocket while the other holds a cell phone to his ear. You can faintly hear him chastising someone through it.

“Gojo, please. You know I don’t like asking for help. I really don’t need you making fun of me on top of that.” He cradles the phone against his shoulder now, freeing up his hand to gesture at the empty air. “It’s been a while, okay? I don’t want to-” a bus passes between the two of you, spoiling your eavesdropping. By the time it passes, he’s walked further away down the street, and is standing in the shade of a shop awning to frown at something on his phone screen. He takes a deep breath, taps something in, and waits.

You feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket, and fish it out, impatient at the interruption. You’re curious about what Nanami’s like outside of your lunch encounters, and eager to spy a bit more. The call is from a number you don’t recognize, so you let it ring and shove it back in your pocket.

Across the street, Nanami’s shoulders drop just as your phone stops buzzing. After a beat, you see him start talking again, and the small part of your brain that isn’t completely focused on enjoying the view points out that you maybe shouldn’t be standing there staring.

If you haven’t scared him off yet, catching you stalking him from across the street will definitely do it. You blow out a breath and head for the bento stand, eating while you walk back to work. You wave at your friend, elbow-deep in dishes, and check your phone before putting it back in your locker.

The unknown number left a voicemail. Weird, but not too weird. Probably someone calling about your car’s extended warranty. You absentmindedly let it play through the speaker as you tie on your apron.

Hello. This is Nanami Kento. From the bakery. Thank you for... well, I found this number on the bag you gave me. I couldn't help but wonder if it was meant for me. If it wasn't, please disregard this message, of course.

But if it was, well, I just wanted to say thank you. It was a… pleasant surprise. If you're open to it, I'd like to get to know you better.

If I've misinterpreted things, I apologize. Otherwise, I'd be happy to hear from you whenever you're comfortable reaching out.

A pause stretches for what feels like thirty seconds, static crackling uncertainly.

Take care. [click]

“Ohmygod!” you and your friend squeal at the same time. You can feel your pulse in your neck, your heart racing.

Your friend stifles giggles behind her hand, then squints at you. “Does he…always sound like that?”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll have you know he’s an actual gentleman, unlike your usual type.” Even as you tease her, you do wonder why he sounded so formal. And a phone call of all things? A voicemail?

“I definitely thought he’d text, if anything,” you concede, shaking your head and smiling.

She wiggles her eyebrows at you suggestively. “So are you 'comfortable reaching out'?”

“I mean, it sounds like he wants me to, right?” You bite the inside of your cheek. “He wants to get to know me better.” You can’t hide the smile that takes over at that. “I want that too.”

You friend claps her hands as she hears you admit it. “So call him back!”

God, I can’t believe I’m going to call someone up like it’s the 90s. But if you were to do it for anyone… a mental image of Nanami floats into your mind, tired smile on his pretty lips, and your fear goes out the window. “I’m doing it!”

He picks up on the second ring, the punctual bastard. You barely have a script ready in your head.

“Hi! This is the girl from the bakery! I just got your voicemail.” You can hear office phones ringing in the background, and the murmur of voices. Fuck, of course he’d be at work. Why didn’t you think of that?

“Is… this a bad time?” You hear the shuffle of papers and the sound of a door closing, muffling the background noise.

“No, not at all. It’s… great to hear from you.” His voice is tired, but you imagine you can hear a smile softening the words.

“You too. I was starting to think I had made a fool of myself…”

“Why would you think that?” He sounded serious, shocked at the possibility.

“Ah, well… you haven’t been in the last few days. Not that I expect it! I just, well I thought I might have overstepped. Not that it was even me, my friend wrote my number on the bag, I had no idea, I just…”

You hear him take a breath. “I see. So, it was a mistake then. I apologize, I didn’t mean to assume anything. I wasn’t sure it was intentional in the first place…”

Shit shit shit. “Oh that isn’t what I meant! I definitely wanted to give you my number, I just didn’t know how, and if you’d even want it...” You trail off, head fuzzy with how quickly this conversation had derailed. You ignore your friend’s frantic gestures asking for explanation, and clutch the phone tighter.

“I see”, he says, slowly. “So you don’t mind that I called, then?”

“Not at all. I’d love to get to know you better, Nanami.”

There’s a long pause on the other end, and you worry you’ve blown your chance.

“I’d like that too.”

You let out a shaky breath, and try to sound confident again. “So, you haven’t been avoiding our bakery then?”

He sighs. “No, and I’ve missed it, just as I thought I would. Work has been…”

“You can tell me,” you say earnestly.

“Work is shit.”

You both laugh, the tension breaking. He continues, “I’ve been taking lunch at my desk for the past few days, and it certainly isn’t the same.”

“How about I take you to dinner to make up for it?” You aren’t sure where the boldness comes from, and out of the corner of your eye you see your friend fake a swoon, fanning herself madly. You stick out your tongue at her.

“I believe I'm the one who should be asking you that,” Nanami answers, but you hear the smile in his deep voice.

“Well, I’m free tomorrow night. You could pick me up from work? I’m off at six.”

“Six. That sounds wonderful.”

He sounds wonderful. You try to keep your excitement at reasonable levels. You’re not exactly playing hard to get, but you don’t want him to hear you giggling and kicking your feet through the phone. “I’ll be here, Nanami.”

“Please, call me Kento. I’m looking forward to it.”

“See you tomorrow then, Kento.”

Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

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@kxllanxtdoor tagged as requested<3

Bakery Girl and Salaryman ~ Ch. 2

Nanami found your number!! I feel like he would be so awkward and out of practice when it comes to dating, but would do his best to be the gentleman you deserve // [ao3]

It’s been three days since Nanami last came in. You tell yourself you shouldn’t care, but your nerves are wound tight. What if he was offended that you gave him your number? Not that it was you, exactly, but how would he know? He probably has a beautiful, sexy, rich girlfriend, and the two of them are probably making fun of the frazzled bakery girl this very second.

You knead this morning’s batch of dough with extra intensity as you torture yourself. He might never come in again. Your heart drops as you remember his admission that the local convenience store stopped selling his favorite sandwiches. Oh god. Did you embarrass yourself so much that he’s giving up sandwiches forever?!

You huff your bangs off your forehead, pushing up your uniform hat with a floury elbow. Okay, maybe you’re losing it a little. You squint at your friend, who lingers uncomfortably in the kitchen doorway. She kept up the teasing at first, but her enthusiasm had dwindled by the second Nanami-less afternoon. Today she’s positively reserved, flashing you pitying glances when she thinks you aren’t paying attention.

It may be technically her fault, but you don’t want your own tension to infect her. You offer a smile, making room at the countertop. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Whatever happens, happens.”

Her shoulders slumped in relief as she joined you. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d quit coming around…I overstepped.”

“Honestly, I would’ve given him my number myself if I had the guts. If that scares him off, he’s not the guy for me.” You shrug it off, false optimism sugar-coating your voice, but she doesn’t notice.

The awkwardness fades as you both fall back into the workday routine, filling the display window with fresh pastries and cheerfully greeting sleepy commuters on their way to work. You do your best to force Nanami out of your mind, resolutely ignoring the fact that you will be off work the next few days. If you don’t get some sort of resolution today, the stress will sit in your stomach until you clock back in.

That’s the thought on your mind when you head out on your break, turning the corner at the end of the street to head for your favorite bento stand, when you see him.

Nanami is standing across the street from you, one hand in his pinstriped pocket while the other holds a cell phone to his ear. You can faintly hear him chastising someone through it.

“Gojo, please. You know I don’t like asking for help. I really don’t need you making fun of me on top of that.” He cradles the phone against his shoulder now, freeing up his hand to gesture at the empty air. “It’s been a while, okay? I don’t want to-” a bus passes between the two of you, spoiling your eavesdropping. By the time it passes, he’s walked further away down the street, and is standing in the shade of a shop awning to frown at something on his phone screen. He takes a deep breath, taps something in, and waits.

You feel your phone vibrate in your back pocket, and fish it out, impatient at the interruption. You’re curious about what Nanami’s like outside of your lunch encounters, and eager to spy a bit more. The call is from a number you don’t recognize, so you let it ring and shove it back in your pocket.

Across the street, Nanami’s shoulders drop just as your phone stops buzzing. After a beat, you see him start talking again, and the small part of your brain that isn’t completely focused on enjoying the view points out that you maybe shouldn’t be standing there staring.

If you haven’t scared him off yet, catching you stalking him from across the street will definitely do it. You blow out a breath and head for the bento stand, eating while you walk back to work. You wave at your friend, elbow-deep in dishes, and check your phone before putting it back in your locker.

The unknown number left a voicemail. Weird, but not too weird. Probably someone calling about your car’s extended warranty. You absentmindedly let it play through the speaker as you tie on your apron.

Hello. This is Nanami Kento. From the bakery. Thank you for... well, I found this number on the bag you gave me. I couldn't help but wonder if it was meant for me. If it wasn't, please disregard this message, of course.

But if it was, well, I just wanted to say thank you. It was a… pleasant surprise. If you're open to it, I'd like to get to know you better.

If I've misinterpreted things, I apologize. Otherwise, I'd be happy to hear from you whenever you're comfortable reaching out.

A pause stretches for what feels like thirty seconds, static crackling uncertainly.

Take care. [click]

“Ohmygod!” you and your friend squeal at the same time. You can feel your pulse in your neck, your heart racing.

Your friend stifles giggles behind her hand, then squints at you. “Does he…always sound like that?”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll have you know he’s an actual gentleman, unlike your usual type.” Even as you tease her, you do wonder why he sounded so formal. And a phone call of all things? A voicemail?

“I definitely thought he’d text, if anything,” you concede, shaking your head and smiling.

She wiggles her eyebrows at you suggestively. “So are you 'comfortable reaching out'?”

“I mean, it sounds like he wants me to, right?” You bite the inside of your cheek. “He wants to get to know me better.” You can’t hide the smile that takes over at that. “I want that too.”

You friend claps her hands as she hears you admit it. “So call him back!”

God, I can’t believe I’m going to call someone up like it’s the 90s. But if you were to do it for anyone… a mental image of Nanami floats into your mind, tired smile on his pretty lips, and your fear goes out the window. “I’m doing it!”

He picks up on the second ring, the punctual bastard. You barely have a script ready in your head.

“Hi! This is the girl from the bakery! I just got your voicemail.” You can hear office phones ringing in the background, and the murmur of voices. Fuck, of course he’d be at work. Why didn’t you think of that?

“Is… this a bad time?” You hear the shuffle of papers and the sound of a door closing, muffling the background noise.

“No, not at all. It’s… great to hear from you.” His voice is tired, but you imagine you can hear a smile softening the words.

“You too. I was starting to think I had made a fool of myself…”

“Why would you think that?” He sounded serious, shocked at the possibility.

“Ah, well… you haven’t been in the last few days. Not that I expect it! I just, well I thought I might have overstepped. Not that it was even me, my friend wrote my number on the bag, I had no idea, I just…”

You hear him take a breath. “I see. So, it was a mistake then. I apologize, I didn’t mean to assume anything. I wasn’t sure it was intentional in the first place…”

Shit shit shit. “Oh that isn’t what I meant! I definitely wanted to give you my number, I just didn’t know how, and if you’d even want it...” You trail off, head fuzzy with how quickly this conversation had derailed. You ignore your friend’s frantic gestures asking for explanation, and clutch the phone tighter.

“I see”, he says, slowly. “So you don’t mind that I called, then?”

“Not at all. I’d love to get to know you better, Nanami.”

There’s a long pause on the other end, and you worry you’ve blown your chance.

“I’d like that too.”

You let out a shaky breath, and try to sound confident again. “So, you haven’t been avoiding our bakery then?”

He sighs. “No, and I’ve missed it, just as I thought I would. Work has been…”

“You can tell me,” you say earnestly.

“Work is shit.”

You both laugh, the tension breaking. He continues, “I’ve been taking lunch at my desk for the past few days, and it certainly isn’t the same.”

“How about I take you to dinner to make up for it?” You aren’t sure where the boldness comes from, and out of the corner of your eye you see your friend fake a swoon, fanning herself madly. You stick out your tongue at her.

“I believe I'm the one who should be asking you that,” Nanami answers, but you hear the smile in his deep voice.

“Well, I’m free tomorrow night. You could pick me up from work? I’m off at six.”

“Six. That sounds wonderful.”

He sounds wonderful. You try to keep your excitement at reasonable levels. You’re not exactly playing hard to get, but you don’t want him to hear you giggling and kicking your feet through the phone. “I’ll be here, Nanami.”

“Please, call me Kento. I’m looking forward to it.”

“See you tomorrow then, Kento.”

Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

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@kxllanxtdoor tagged as requested<3

Bakery Girl and Salaryman ~ Ch. 1

fluffy Nanami x Bakery Girl (you!) in which you are crushing on your regular customer and grow closer by flirting over sandwiches // [ao3]

edit: Ch. 2 available here!

Your friend hid a giggle behind her hand as she ducked into the kitchen and waved at you. “Hey, your boyfriend’s outside!” You spun around from where you were wiping the counter and flung the soggy dishcloth at her.

“You know he is so not! Quit embarrassing me!”

She sidestepped neatly out of the way and beamed an infuriating smile back. “Yeah but you know you wish he was. I’d love to serve him myself but it looks like my break is…now!” She wiggled her fingers at you and slid out the back door of the bakery, leaving you alone.

You knew for a fact that her break wasn’t for another hour, but you rolled your eyes and tied on your apron, washing your hands slowly at the sink. You could pretend it was for responsible-employee-hygiene purposes, but you were also trying to quash the irritating swarm of butterflies that had appeared in your stomach. You couldn’t help but be intrigued by the quiet blonde who had started frequenting your shop lately. The quiet, mysterious, gorgeous blonde…

“Not my boyfriend”, you mumbled to yourself, adjusting your red beret and biting your lip all the same as you emerged behind the register.

His back was to you, and you took the opportunity to let your gaze linger. His pinstripe suit hung perfectly off his broad shoulders, tapering over his narrow waist and long legs. His head was a little tilted in the noon sunlight, soft prisms from the entrance window reflected onto his blonde hair. You were struck by a sudden urge to brush your fingertips over his undercut, wondering if his gelled hair would fall out of place, over his forehead, into his dark eyes-

Eyes that were definitely looking right at you. Fuck. When did he turn around?

You slap on your customer-service smile, a little strained as your cheeks flush. “Good afternoon!”

He doesn’t smile, but his voice is gentle when he replies. “Afternoon.”

The man looks exhausted. His sharp cheekbones stand out underneath deep circles that sit heavy beneath his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, and concern washes away the embarrassment. You don’t stop to think before asking, “Are you getting enough sleep?”

His eyes widen a fraction at the familiarity of the question, and you wish you could take it back…but at the same time, you worry that no one else would ask.

The silence stretches between you until he raises an eyebrow and asks, “Are you?”

You look up at him, valiantly forcing your gaze up from where it wants to rest on his tight-pressed lips. What would they look like relaxed? On your cheek?

The butterflies in your stomach seem to have spread into your brain, and you laugh, leaning forward on the counter. “Well my shift starts at 4am, so not really, if I’m being honest.”

He nods seriously. “Bakeries are very essential. Your work is quite important.”

He’s not exactly giving you much to go on, but this is the longest conversation you’ve had with the stoic blonde so far, so you make the most of it. “What is it that you do, then?”

His eyebrows knit together and he looks away. “I make rich people richer. My job is…non-essential. Not like yours.” A ghost of a smile twists his marble features. “People would certainly miss this bakery if it were to disappear.”

“Well don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere! We! We’re not going anywhere, I mean.” You smile hard enough to make your cheeks ache, willing him to move on without thinking too much about what you said. Casting around for something to do with your hands, you begin putting together his usual lunch order. “So, is it rich people running you ragged then?”

He smiles, a real, actual, too-brief smile. The crack in his demeanor is like the sun breaking through clouds, and you have to look down at the bread you’re buttering to shake off the dazzle.

“You could say that.”

The two of you go quiet again, but it’s more comfortable this time around. He watches you work, and you would swear he’s admiring the precision of your sandwich artistry. Or you’re delusional.

You put the finishing touches on the sandwich and slide it into the toaster over behind you. When you turn back to face him, he’s looking at you quizzically. “Pardon me but, I never ordered.”

“Oh, you always get the same thing so I made it without even thinking, I’m sorry!” You apologize quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up for the third time in this five-minute conversation. God you’re being such a dork! Get it together!

He cuts off your apology and inclines his head to you. “I didn’t realize you were…paying attention.” You’re astounded to see twin spots of color appear on his pale cheeks. “I suppose I am a man of habit. They stopped selling these at my local convenience store.”

So that’s why he’s come around so often lately! You offer mental thanks to the fickle gods of his local convenience store, and the gods of sandwiches for good measure. “Well I’m sure ours are better anyway, being an essential bakery and all”, you tease. The toaster dings behind you, and you slide the warm sandwich into a plastic bag.

“I’d say so”, he replies quietly, the corner of his mouth tilting up as he looks at you. He looks marginally more relaxed, and you can’t help but feel proud.

“Well, please do keep coming by. We’re always happy to see you, Mister…”

“Nanami. Nanami Kento.” His face has settled back into its familiar flatness, but you this time you think you can see warmth hidden in his tired eyes.

“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Nanami.” You bend down to grab a paper bag off the top of the stack you keep below the register for to-go orders, and package his sandwich as he pays. “I hope you get some rest soon.”

Another split-second smile, and he takes the bag from you. “You as well.”

You force yourself to stand calmly by the register until the door shuts behind him, then you rush back into the kitchen and hide your face in your hands, a stupid smile spreading behind them. Nanami Kento.

Your friend saunters back in from her break with annoyingly perfect timing. “How did it go with your boyfriend?”

You’re too giddy to tease her, and give her a grin. “I know his name!”

“Ooh that’s amazing!” she squeals. “That’ll be so helpful when he texts you. What else was he going to say, ‘hey bakery girl?’ Now he can be all, ‘hello, this is whatever-his-name-is’”.

“When he…what? I didn’t give him my number,” you frown.

She steps closer and gives you a sheepish smile. “You…sorta did.”

You round on her, eyes wide with dread. “What did you do!”

“Well, you said he always orders lunch to-go, right? And you always put those in the paper bags, so I figured if I wrote your number on one of the bags and left it on top…”

“Oh my god…” you slump against the dishwasher and hide your face in your apron. “How could you do this to me!”

Your friend mimicked your despairing pose and peeked behind your apron. “I’m sorry, you would just be so cute together! And I knew neither of you would do anything, so I thought I could give you a little nudge. It’ll be worth it, you’ll see!”

Her earnestness wore you down, and you leaned your head on her shoulder. “Fine. But if this blows up on me…”

She threw up her hands in mock surrender and scooted away. “Okay, okay, fair! Just wait and see. You’ll be thanking me at the wedding!”

You rolled your eyes at that, but stood up and prepared to go back to work. True, you never would’ve been bold enough to do it yourself, but you remember the blush that crept up his cheeks when he realized that you remembered his order, and allow yourself to hope he’ll have the same reaction to finding your number. You picture the smile you earned from him, and all you want is the chance to see it again.

I’m so obsessed with your art!!!! He’s so pretty 🥹

care for a cozy nanami this saturday morning ?

I’m just a kid (and life is a nightmare)

Dad!Nanami and Kid!Yuji

another installment of my teen papamin series! in which yuji gets into trouble at school

[chapter 2, the haircut, on tumblr] [ch 1-3 on ao3]

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Nanami fought to keep his face neutral, but he was furious. What had Yuji been thinking? This was exactly the kind of thing that could call his care-taking into question, get some nosy administrator suspicious about Yuji and his conspicuously teenage guardian.

He paused outside the headmaster’s office and smoothed his hair down, trying to look as responsible as possible. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door and bowed.

“Sir, I’m terribly sorry for Yuji’s behavior. There’s no excuse, and I will discipline him appropriately.” He gave this speech to the ground, then straightened up warily. A shock of pink hair peeked over the chair in front of the headmaster’s desk, tiny feet kicking dismally.

The headmaster steepled his thick fingers. “I would hope so. Fighting of any kind is not tolerated, let alone to the degree that your,” he frowned over his glasses, “son here has exhibited.” The tuft of Yuji’s head sunk lower.

“Of course, sir. I can assure you that this is very unusual for him.” Nanami tapped his fingers on his briefcase. “Given that, might I ask what triggered this…altercation?”

“Does it matter?” The headmaster snapped.

“I believe so, yes. Did someone provoke Yuji? Was he defending himself?”

The headmaster scowled. “Itadori threw the first punch, if that’s what you’re asking. The first and last, might I add. His classmate lost two teeth.” The pink hair disappeared entirely, the little legs pulled up to hide in the chair.

“Well they are children, sir. Those teeth are meant to come out,” Nanami deadpanned.

The headmaster stood up from his desk, which added very little to his overall height. “Are you making light of this, young man? I would advise against it. We take delinquency very seriously here.”

Nanami flinched at the word, unable to reconcile it to the sweet boy in his care. “Of course not. I will ensure that this never happens again.”

“See that you do that. You’re dismissed, Itadori.” The headmaster glowered as Yuji clambered out of the desk chair and shuffled behind Nanami, clutching at his belt loops. Nanami inclined his head again to the headmaster, the bow a little shallower this time, and hustled Yuji out of the office.

It wasn’t until they were safely outside school property that Nanami sighed and knelt down next to Yuji. “Wanna tell me what happened back there, kid? You punched someone? You know better than that.”

Yuji’s lip trembled. “I’m sorry, Nanamin. Didn’t mean to get you in trouble…” Nanami put a heavy hand on the kid’s head.

“I know, I know. I’m not in trouble, okay? But I need to know what happened.” His lips thinned into a hard line. “Did someone hurt you?” Yuji shook his head. “Did someone threaten you?” Another head shake. He looked down at the kid, his heart squeezing painfully as he took in his wide, tearful eyes. “You don’t wanna talk about it now, huh?” A tight nod. “I understand. Let’s go home, okay?” Yuji slipped his hand into Nanami’s as they walked back together.

Back at the apartment, Nanami installed Yuji on the couch with cartoons. He popped his head out of the kitchen every so often to make sure the kid was still glued to the television as he prepped sandwiches for the two of them. He carried both plates out to the living room, then tilted his head, teasing a little to test the waters. “Is this seat taken?”

Yuji giggled and scooted over. “Nope!”

Nanami smiled at him and sat down, his shoulder nudging Yuji’s much smaller one. “Thanks, kid. Made this special for ya.” It was the same exact sandwich they always had. Though to be fair, he had made it with extra care this time, hoping it would magically draw the truth out of the boy.

They ate in comfortable silence, the brightly colored cartoons reflected on their faces. When the sandwiches were gone and Nanami had washed up, he cautiously settled back down next to Yuji, waiting for him to break the silence.

He was rewarded after a few moments as Yuji hid his face behind a pillow and finally spoke up. “I can tell you now, but I gotta stay back here.”

Nanami nodded, remembering how uncomfortable he was with confrontation at that age. Clearly something had upset Yuji badly, and he just wanted to give the kid a safe place to share it. “That’s okay.”

Silence from behind the pillow. “Nanamin…don’t look at me ‘kay?”

Looking quite serious, Nanami grabbed another pillow and held it over his own face. “Look, Yuji. I can’t see you, promise.”

Yuji peeked over the pillow and giggled a little, his voice shaky. “Okay. Someone…someone said something bad.”

“They said something bad? Something mean about you?”

“No-oo, not mean about me.”

Nanami furrowed his brows behind the pillow. “I see. Were you, maybe sticking up for somebody else?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, that’s a good thing to do, Yuji. But you can’t solve problems with violence. Well, not most of them anyway.” Nanami’s shoulders fell. Who was he to lecture a kid about violence? That was the only way he had solved anything for the last few years. “Just because someone says or even does something mean, that doesn’t give you the right to hurt them.” He sighed. “Next time, you could stick up for the other kid with your words, you know?”

Yuji was quiet for a while. Then, softly, “Wasn’t another kid.”

“Hmm?”

Yuji’s muffled voice was barely a whisper. “It was you, Nanamin.” Nanami suddenly felt two short arms flung around his waist, their pillows shoved together as Yuji reached for him. “They said you’re not my-” he sobbed, “not my real dad!”

Nanami’s face crumpled at the same time Yuji’s did. He tried to regain his composure behind the pillow, not wanting Yuji to see how much it affected him. As sweet as the gesture was, he couldn’t have the kid go around knocking out teeth any time someone gave him a hard time.

“Ah, Yuji…” Nanami pulled him into a tight hug. “All that matters is what you believe.” He gently tugged the pillow down, meeting the boy’s stricken eyes. “If you feel like I’m your-” the label stuck in Nanami’s throat, and he swallowed it down. “If you feel that way about me, no one else can take that away.”

Yuji wriggled out from behind the shield of his pillow and into Nanami’s arms. He hid his face in the older man’s shirt, sniffling. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, promise!”

“I know.” Nanami ran a soothing hand down his back. “But you’re a strong kiddo. Stronger than most people, you know? Being powerful means being careful. We don’t get to make as many mistakes.”

Yuji nodded wetly, snotty tears collecting on Nanami’s work shirt. “Nanamin, do you- do you feel that way about me? You’re my dad, right?” The vulnerability on his face shattered Nanami. He could see the hope and the tight-coiled dread that hung heavy on Yuji’s little shoulders. He mustered the courage to answer, not wanting to add any hurt to the pile that was already too big for the kid’s age.

“Of course I do. It’s…it’s an honor to be your dad, Yuji. If- if you'd like me to be.”

Yuji didn’t say anything, but Nanami felt the kid burrow into his chest. He held him close.

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an: tysm for the love on my last post of this au!<3