midwest princesses rise !!! hear me out now y'all..... picture american cowboy blue-collared country boy kento nanami out on the tractor plowing the fields in that hawwwttt god-awful summer sun.
you’re running out a pitcher of ice cold sweet tea and picnic basket full of your hot fried chicken when you catch a good look at him up at the wheel. you shamelessly park yourself right up at the fence, climbing to stand on the first wooden rail to get a better view of the man you call your husband.
he’s got his damn white t-shirt on still, even in this heat — he's never beating the farmer’s tan stereotype — but nevertheless, his beefy biceps strain against the tight material in the light of the low-hanging sun as he rotates the steering wheel around to start making his way back to your side of the field.
the sweet tea and chicken have been long forgotten as you gain his attention — running over as he throws it in park and hike yourself on up the big rig to hitch your leg over him and make an easy seat of his lap.
the engine purrs loud as your hands rake up his sweat-slicked abs from underneath his shirt, trailing the material up until you got a good enough view of his suntanned chest. you can’t subdue the moan that escapes straight from your gut and he can’t help but laugh, tossing his head back as you leave open-mouthed kisses along his broad-set shoulders and up his neck.
“this is no laughing matter,” you say through your grin as you spill out the words though your wet kisses, interlocking your fingers behind his neck and pulling back from him only to tilt your chin down and look up at him through your batting lashes, “give a doting wife what she waaaants, kento."
this man has never had any issue with following your lead, snapping up quick to unbuckle the shiny silver metal of his belt and undoing his zipper to unsheathe the thick, rigid monster he calls a cock from its confinement of his jeans. anything for his wife.
with all the acres you owned of nothing but farmland surrounding that big beautiful farmhouse the two of you called home, you had zero issue stripping stark naked on top of that green tractor, straddling that man's strapping thighs, and riding him 'til the cows come home.
you take him oh so pathetically slow at first, sinking down on every thick inch of him until your weeping cunt hit his hilt. you had to take a moment for yourself, doing just about everything you can to adjust to his size before you start rutting slow against him. kento writhes underneath you, head carelessly thrown back with a groan, his rough and callused fingertips running down your back in a desperate plea for more.
your hips work up higher and higher until you're fucking the entirety of his length, sliding up until you've only got his reddened tip squeezed inside your gushing walls before sliding back down to the hilt again with a wet squelch!
sweet, well-mannered mama's boy kento nanami has always given you the utmost grace and regard when it came to you taking and adjusting to his... size. he'd never hurt you or push you past your limit. but c'mon now... you were absolutely toying with him. getting off on his desperate moans that wordlessly begged you for release. the poor man just wasn't able to take it anymore!
even over the engine, the merciless slapping of skin was clear as day as kento pounds upward into your soaking cunt as you brace yourself against his stocky shoulders — his hands wrapped so tight around your waist his fingertips are sure to leave bruises, using your body weight as leverage to fuck that ever so pretty pussy of yours even harder.
you nearly fucking scream, the sensation overwhelming your system and sending you full-bore into your orgasm. and with the way you're clenching around him, kento can't hold out any longer either, painting your walls in his hot spurts of cum as he rides out his high at a much softer pace than prior. his hands rake up and back down your quivering thighs, a gold-hearted gesture in best attempt to soothe your overworked body.
you hum in response, body caving naturally into his as he caresses you in his big, strong arms, his cock still buried deep inside you.
you feel him turn the ignition off with a simple turn of a key, a sweet quiet falling over the farm.
with a soft kiss to the salty skin at his jawline, you smile to yourself at a thought you couldn't help but share out loud, "you think we'll tell this kid they were conceived on top of the old john deere?"
you pull another laugh from his throat, kento's sunkissed skin crinkling at the edges of his eyes as his genuine smile squeezes them shut, soaking in the moment with you for all its worth. the easy quiet returns and settles around the two of you as you sat in each other's company, unmoving and unwilling to do so anytime soon.
that is, until the farmhands start whistling and hollering from the horse stable up the hill. kento's reflexes are impeccable — he's quick to pull your bare body tight into his chest and shift himself in front of you. not that it'll redeem either of you, given the performance they all quite easily had a front row seat to. with a shake of his head, kento bows his gaze, a tight-lipped grimace taking over his features as he cursed under his breath.
"wow, nanami! sure are rethinking that overtime you so graciously thrust upon us, huh?" the men laugh playfully as they take in the scene before them, rampantly making their way to the gate where your sweet tea and chicken dinner resided, "dinner and a show! thanks boss! sorry, mrs. nanami, beautiful as ever, by the way! we didn't see a thing — i swear!"
a.n. — give yourself one listen of she thinks my tractor’s sexy by kenny chesney and tell me that doesn’t scream big 'n strong rough 'n tough true blue cowboy kento motherfucking nanami bitch that's exactly right bc you can't! farm life just fits him too well i fear
the mirror at the end of the bed was a recent purchase, one made by you, with a singular yet very important intention.
good old-fashioned loverboy kento nanami is a man that loves to make love. he values intimacy, romance. being able to make eye contact during the amorous act of sex was of high importance to him. he fucked insanely well, especially so under these pretenses.
so, even with his hands full of your perfect ass that aligned so nicely at his hips, doggy style had always felt a bit... impersonal. and despite how good and rough he always managed to fuck you, regardless of the position, he always preserved the connection between the two of you. his hand finding yours against your hip and interlocking fingers whilst drilling his cock upward into your cunt as you rode him reverse cowgirl, the way his thumb would caress your cheek as he held a tight grip of your jaw as he fucked your mouth ever so slow and steady... kento nanami always found a way to pour the romantics into everything he did.
his favorite act of romance, though, was eye contact. the very notion had him feral. having his eyes locked with yours as the two of you did the filthiest things to each other — he could cum at the mere thought. you could always see it right there in his eyes, usually moments after you batted your lashes up to meet his low-lidded gaze, and it was all over. it was allllll in the eyes.
that's why last night, not even half an hour after he came buckets into your cunt during a very hot and heavy session in the missionary position with your foreheads practically glued together, you got out the measuring tape. silently, in the warm glow of your bedside lamp that softly lit your sleeping lover's face, you took measurements of the wall facing your bed while the impurest of thoughts ran rampant through your mind.
the delivery men had it up and installed rather quick the next morning. you tipped them and sent them on their way before they could even begin to imagine the plans you had for this new item placed so strategically in your bedroom. you barely had time to fantasize as you heard kento enter down at the front door.
those hazel eyes found yours immediately as soon as their beholder swung open the bedroom door.
through the mirror, you caught his wide-eyed stare from your position on the bed — face down, ass up high in the air, wearing nothing but his favorite black lace set. he stood there for a moment, his stare flitting to your body and back, finding conversation in your eyes as they told him everything he needed to know about how the scene in front of him came to fruition.
kento's bag fell with a thud as it dropped to the floor, his hands finding a new interest as they found his belt. he made quick yet steady work of it, gaze never leaving yours as he pulled it from its loops.
he remained silent as he halved the belt into one hand and walked into the room. your eyes never left his form as he approached the bed, mattress dipping from the added weight as he knelt on it behind you.
you flicked your head to the side, your right cheek pressed against the bed as you peered back at him best you could from this angle, a soft gasp hitching in your throat as you catch him freeing his rigid cock from his dress pants.
his fingers dipped around the material of your thong and dragged it to the side, tapping at your now bare entrance, giving your core a few languid circles, making a mess of your arousal.
"my sweet wife..." kento's voice was low at your ear as he leaned over you, a hand grazing softly over your ass, cock twitching as the length of it pressed flat against your weeping cunt, "if you needed to be fucked like this you just had to ask."
you didn't have the chance to respond before kento sheathed himself inside you, wasting no time in removing any of his clothes as he got to pounding you mercilessly into the bed. his big strong hands held your hips up high, in perfect position, fucking you into oblivion at a pace you couldn’t physically comprehend as the snaps of his hips flung you forward.
your scream was muffled by the bedsheets, fisting the material so hard your knuckles begged for mercy.
kento tutted, hauling your chest up off the bed by seizing both your wrists and yanking them back toward him to clasp in one hand, "eyes, darling."
it was the only warning you needed, eyes locking with his in the reflection of the mirror immediately. the groan that escaped his throat was guttural. you could feel his cock harden against your walls as he continued his ravenous assault of your cunt. his low-lidded gaze was telling, those hazel eyes darker than you had ever seen them.
"ah, there’s my girl.”
the love in his gaze was overwhelming as he quite literally fucked you like he was trying to split you in two. his beefy chest strained against his tight button-up as he put all his strength into the action, the thick muscles of his biceps rippling as he used you as leverage to fuck you even harder. his jaw clenched, those pussydrunk eyes flitting from yours to the place where you connected, hypnotized by the way this thick length sheathes perfectly into your tight little cunt like you were made for him. your gaze was locked on his frame, staring with wide eyes as he spit in his free hand and grazed his way around your trembling thighs to make contact with your clit, knowing he found juuuust the right spot by the way you arched into his touch for more.
kento took the opportunity to rut the entirety of his ruinous cock inside to the hilt, his aching balls flush against your core as he holds himself there, hips grinding in for as much give as your cunt would allow him.
the stretch of him dropped your jaw, your lungs gasping to maintain your breath at the sensation of being completely and utterly full. you could barely keep your eyes open — but fuck, it would be a crime to miss out on the moment before you. those utterly lovesick eyes of his on yours as he began to make work of your clit, so intentionally slow and steady as you warmed his throbbing cock.
it was hard for you to keep it together now. his touch lit you on fire, the soft strokes of his expert fingers that know you oh so well. and that cock of his, so unforgivingly big, rutting there ever so gently at your cervix over and over and over, stuffing you full to the point of delirium.
you tightened around him as you desperately tried to adjust to the stretch. he was so fucking big. no matter how many times kento fucked you it seemed like he’d never fit. but your husband always got the job done.
kento let your wrists free as you caved into the mattress, not letting your eyes leave his as you peered up from the sudden relief of the covers as his free hand ran the length of your back.
“you know just how much i love you, yes?” his pace slowed to an even more intimate speed as he leaned to trail kiss after kiss up your arching spine, “thank you for the surprise, sweet girl..."
the gravel in his voice caught your immediate attention, your lulling eyes that were rolling to the back of your head now snapping back up to meet his.
and there it was. it was always in the eyes. he looked at you like you hung the stars. his wife. the woman he would lay his life down for. the only one to know him so well, so intimately. the woman who'd install a fucking mirror at the end of the bed just for this very moment.
"... now cum for me.”
and you did, immediately. it was all too much now, all you could feel was him. the pressure of his cock, how you could practically feel him all the way up in your stomach — you were done for the moment you watched that last screw drill into the wall this morning.
the shakes racked your body as you came, cunt clenching him for all he’s worth as he followed suit, rutting his hot thick cum inside you like it was the last thing he’d ever get to do. the hand at your clit reaches further down, his fingers splitting the place your searing bodies meet to memorize the feeling of the way his cock ruts in and out of you as the two of you ride out your orgasm.
kento had come undone — a mess of hot and slutty moans at your ear. he simply could not. get. enough.
and as you take in the beautiful sight of him holding you so in the reflection, all sweaty and fucked out of his mind, you couldn’t help but grin as your hand leisurely followed to meet his to feel the last of his strokes stuff your cunt. his eyes, yearning and low-lidded, latched to yours as he watched you open your mouth to speak.
“would the delivery men start to catch on if we had them install another on the ceiling?”
satoru gojo who gets sooo fucking drunk off the way you ride his cock that he’s drooling all over himself. splayed beneath your body and blabbering, a rivulet of saliva dribbling from the corner of his gaped mouth, trickling down his neck.
scattered wisps of ivory adorn the pillow beneath his head, stray pieces framing his perfect face and wreathing around his chin. he’s not there, not really, yet all he can feel is you. clinging to your pretty body with searing hands, pulling you closer, fucking you deeper. he wants to consume you—embody every last bit of your overwhelming pleasure to absorb you wholly, completely.
“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he babbles in a single, gasping breath. his hands reach for the sides of your face, pulling you close. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty… god, you feel s— so good, gimme a kiss, baby.”
the kiss is so sloppy and haphazard and wet. and his lips are feverish as he whines into your mouth, hungrily sucking on your tongue. something of a whimper leaves him as he briefly parts from your mouth, a thin gossamer of glittery saliva wedding your lips.
a roaming hand finds yours, grabbing it before greedily directing it toward his parting lips. three of your fingers are prying his jaw open, pressing against the jagged point of his canines. satoru let’s off the prettiest groan, his warm wet tongue dragging over the soft pads of your digits before closing his lips around them and sucking.
“phf— fuck meee,” he muffles, slobbering down your knuckles.
the boy is whipped.
his eyes have gone dark, pupils blown into pretty, lustful hearts. you could do anything to him and he would let you, or even beg you. he will never be ashamed of his need for you, for your body. not even as his desperate hips begin to rut beneath you; sloppy and stuttered as he greedily follows the pounce of your body.
he needs more. needs to feel the tightening of your messy little pussy around his cock, and the way you’re going to drip all the way down to the fat of his swollen balls when you finally cum on it like he needs you to.
“fuh— fuck me, baby.” a pretty, unabashed groan follows his request, head woozy as it sinks deeper into the plush pillow. “ohhh, fuck me… please, fuck me h-harder. oh my… oh my god, i need it.”
satoru watches as you reach behind yourself, blindly grabbing ahold of his tensing thighs. he hiccups when you lean back, drunkenly following the undulation of your hips as your head lolls to the side, your bottom lip tucked between your teeth. his hands are reaching out for you, desperate to feel the buck of your body as you take his cock like it’s the last thing you’ll ever fucking do.
his lips part, brows screwing together. “like that… fuck me like that.”
“like this?” you hum, a teasing lilt in your voice.
he nods dumbly, mouth gaping while a fleeting breath escapes him. big, greedy hands wander your body—smoothing over the fat of your ass, trailing up the sides of your waist, dragging over those pretty, sensitive nipples. his palms are even creeping beneath the depraved arch of your back and forcing you deeper.
“m’gonna cummm,” it’s a whiny little breath, lips twisting while his face contorts in overwhelming pleasure. “c-can’t hold it, fuck you’re gonna make me cum.”
“inside.”
“huh?”
“please?” you breathe, rolling your hips once. “cum with me.”
a beat passes and his hips stutter, cock twitching inside of you. he doesn’t even question you, instead he’s reaching a hand between your searing bodies to circle your aching clit with the warm pads of his fingers, encouraging your looming orgasm. satoru exhales a nasty moan when your hips buck harder, your pretty pussy tightening around him in desperation.
“cum with me.” you whisper again, pulling his lips between yours in a messy kiss.
and he does, immediately. he’s filling you up with sloppy thrusts, whining into your mouth like the prettiest, most disciplined boy. your wet, aching pussy throbs around all of his warm cum as he messily empties himself inside of you. sinful strings of arousal stretch between your sexes as satoru nurses you through your own orgasm, inadvertently fucking his seed deeper.
as you cum around him, your bountiful arousal spills all over his swollen balls, eventually dribbling down far enough to ruin the silken sheets beneath him. his chest heaves, hips bucking shallowly in efforts to chase his cum as it dribbles from the seams of your pretty, overstuffed pussy.
“baby, i wanna cum again… think i can get it deeper this time.”
midwest princesses rise !!! hear me out now y'all..... picture american cowboy blue-collared country boy kento nanami out on the tractor plowing the fields in that hawwwttt god-awful summer sun.
you’re running out a pitcher of ice cold sweet tea and picnic basket full of your hot fried chicken when you catch a good look at him up at the wheel. you shamelessly park yourself right up at the fence, climbing to stand on the first wooden rail to get a better view of the man you call your husband.
he’s got his damn white t-shirt on still, even in this heat — he's never beating the farmer’s tan stereotype — but nevertheless, his beefy biceps strain against the tight material in the light of the low-hanging sun as he rotates the steering wheel around to start making his way back to your side of the field.
the sweet tea and chicken have been long forgotten as you gain his attention — running over as he throws it in park and hike yourself on up the big rig to hitch your leg over him and make an easy seat of his lap.
the engine purrs loud as your hands rake up his sweat-slicked abs from underneath his shirt, trailing the material up until you got a good enough view of his suntanned chest. you can’t subdue the moan that escapes straight from your gut and he can’t help but laugh, tossing his head back as you leave open-mouthed kisses along his broad-set shoulders and up his neck.
“this is no laughing matter,” you say through your grin as you spill out the words though your wet kisses, interlocking your fingers behind his neck and pulling back from him only to tilt your chin down and look up at him through your batting lashes, “give a doting wife what she waaaants, kento."
this man has never had any issue with following your lead, snapping up quick to unbuckle the shiny silver metal of his belt and undoing his zipper to unsheathe the thick, rigid monster he calls a cock from its confinement of his jeans. anything for his wife.
with all the acres you owned of nothing but farmland surrounding that big beautiful farmhouse the two of you called home, you had zero issue stripping stark naked on top of that green tractor, straddling that man's strapping thighs, and riding him 'til the cows come home.
you take him oh so pathetically slow at first, sinking down on every thick inch of him until your weeping cunt hit his hilt. you had to take a moment for yourself, doing just about everything you can to adjust to his size before you start rutting slow against him. kento writhes underneath you, head carelessly thrown back with a groan, his rough and callused fingertips running down your back in a desperate plea for more.
your hips work up higher and higher until you're fucking the entirety of his length, sliding up until you've only got his reddened tip squeezed inside your gushing walls before sliding back down to the hilt again with a wet squelch!
sweet, well-mannered mama's boy kento nanami has always given you the utmost grace and regard when it came to you taking and adjusting to his... size. he'd never hurt you or push you past your limit. but c'mon now... you were absolutely toying with him. getting off on his desperate moans that wordlessly begged you for release. the poor man just wasn't able to take it anymore!
even over the engine, the merciless slapping of skin was clear as day as kento pounds upward into your soaking cunt as you brace yourself against his stocky shoulders — his hands wrapped so tight around your waist his fingertips are sure to leave bruises, using your body weight as leverage to fuck that ever so pretty pussy of yours even harder.
you nearly fucking scream, the sensation overwhelming your system and sending you full-bore into your orgasm. and with the way you're clenching around him, kento can't hold out any longer either, painting your walls in his hot spurts of cum as he rides out his high at a much softer pace than prior. his hands rake up and back down your quivering thighs, a gold-hearted gesture in best attempt to soothe your overworked body.
you hum in response, body caving naturally into his as he caresses you in his big, strong arms, his cock still buried deep inside you.
you feel him turn the ignition off with a simple turn of a key, a sweet quiet falling over the farm.
with a soft kiss to the salty skin at his jawline, you smile to yourself at a thought you couldn't help but share out loud, "you think we'll tell this kid they were conceived on top of the old john deere?"
you pull another laugh from his throat, kento's sunkissed skin crinkling at the edges of his eyes as his genuine smile squeezes them shut, soaking in the moment with you for all its worth. the easy quiet returns and settles around the two of you as you sat in each other's company, unmoving and unwilling to do so anytime soon.
that is, until the farmhands start whistling and hollering from the horse stable up the hill. kento's reflexes are impeccable — he's quick to pull your bare body tight into his chest and shift himself in front of you. not that it'll redeem either of you, given the performance they all quite easily had a front row seat to. with a shake of his head, kento bows his gaze, a tight-lipped grimace taking over his features as he cursed under his breath.
"wow, nanami! sure are rethinking that overtime you so graciously thrust upon us, huh?" the men laugh playfully as they take in the scene before them, rampantly making their way to the gate where your sweet tea and chicken dinner resided, "dinner and a show! thanks boss! sorry, mrs. nanami, beautiful as ever, by the way! we didn't see a thing — i swear!"
a.n. — give yourself one listen of she thinks my tractor’s sexy by kenny chesney and tell me that doesn’t scream big 'n strong rough 'n tough true blue cowboy kento motherfucking nanami bitch that's exactly right bc you can't! farm life just fits him too well i fear
sunday mornings with kento nanami would look very domestic... yes....... very wholesome and snuggly and filled with all the love and warmth in that biiiiig newly built house for a freshly wed husband and wife. that is, until you take initiative and head downstairs to the kitchen, calling out to him for what he thinks sounds best for breakfast.
because the only thing he's hungry for this morning is that sweet cunt residing between your thighs — his favorite meal.
kento would have you laid flat out on your dining room table before you could even grab the skillet, his big, strong hands manhandling your thighs apart as he sat at the head of the table to properly devour you. he'd start with your clit, lapping languid, tight circles at it to ease you into the sensation before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. you'd fling your arms above your head in utter ecstasy, back arching up sharp from the table in any attempt to feel more of him. he'd let your knees fall free so you could wrap them around his shoulders, his hands trailing upward to find your hips as they rocked in time with the pulses of his tongue. kento would only quicken his pace, your throaty moans provoking the dirtiest of thoughts out of him, gripping your waist tight and lapping at your throbbing clit until you just couldn't hold onto your wits any longer. your head would shoot up off the table to find his eyes, his lusty half-lidded gaze already locked on yours as he tips you over the edge, cumming hard on his tongue as he eats you through your orgasm.
you'd gasp out his name in sheer bliss, adding fuel to his fire. he'd move onto flat, languid strokes of your sweet cunt's entirety until he had your thighs shaking. he'd drag his hands back down to your thighs to force them flat open again against the table, silverware jumping with a clank! as it lands back against the table where it had previously been nicely set, kento blatantly ignoring your cries as the overstimulation wracks your body beneath him.
and, breathlessly — as the morning sun spilled in from the open windows and the robins chirping outside fill the golden-lit kitchen, you'd say the only thing currently sat pretty at the top of your mind, "so this is how good it feels to be mrs. nanami, hm?"
❦ nanami kento stumbles upon you outside of the office for very the first time and he can't believe it, nor can he ignore the opportunity at hand.
content warnings mutual pining, nanami is lowkey possesive with a filty mouth
based on this ask.
“hey, you.”
the familiar rumble of a voice is pulling your dull gaze away from the glass that you lazily nurse in your hand. ah, nanami kento from accounting. the blonde cracks a beautifully unfeigned grin, looking as handsome as ever.
“didn’t think this was your kind of scene.”
you feign a little smile, exhaling a breath somewhere between fleeting relief and utter embarrassment. nobody was meant to find you here—other than your date who strung you high, desperate and abandoned. it’s one thing to be to be ditched, but another to be ditched in a bar you wouldn’t otherwise be caught dead in, but alas.
“hey, yourself,” you murmur as you take an indulgent swig of your long island. “wasn’t really my idea.”
nanami is aware that this shouldn’t concern him, really, but he can’t fight the terrible sense that it must be him who makes it up to you. he hums, nodding once. while rocking back onto the heels of his feet, he stuffs his balled fists into the pockets of his tan slacks. the clock nearly strikes midnight and the man is still clad in his cerulean button down shirt; his speckled, yellow tie hangs uncharacteristically loose from his neck.
“i see,” he motions toward the empty chair beside you. “may i?”
you push the wooden stool toward him with an idle foot and he takes a quiet seat beside you, ordering a drink of his own. friendly words are exchanged between the blonde and the bartender. he must be a regular you think, watching curiously as he laughs with the handsome, raven-haired barman.
keenly, you leer around the bustling bar. a jukebox thrums and tipsy souls dance and sway. the dimly lit atmosphere is uncomfortably muggy and smells of alcohol and date night perfume. it’s overwhelming in a sense, and ironically, it doesn’t truly seem like his scene either, so why is he here?
“is this like… your spot?”
he shrugs noncommittally, a soft smile crinkling his eyes.
“sometimes i find myself here,” peering around as well, he takes a liberal sip of the amber liquor that sloshes in his old fashioned glass. “a good friend of mine works here. he made our drinks,” he nods to the handsome barman he had been chatting with earlier. “otherwise, i don’t think i would be here.”
“oh, of course,” your face grows considerably warm and you laugh softly but you don’t know why. he didn’t say anything that was particularly witty or humorous. are you flirting? nervous? “yeah, me either.” you finally mumble, consciously casting your gaze away to take another sip from your condensing glass.
some sick part of nanami is almost grateful that it was him who found you instead. he thinks you look beautiful, all dolled up for some loser. really, it’s a shame, but stumbling upon you tonight is nothing short of a blessing. there is static in the office that neither of you can dissent from, its gravitational pull indisputable.
you feel the heat of his lingering gaze during quarterly meetings. the trail of his dilated eyes watching as you saunter around like an angel in flesh. too often have you met his stare over the screens of your desktop computers; perilous, amber eyes peering over the golden rims of his glasses. those same eyes are reading through you right now and they can see your dismay.
it has to be him. nanami has to make this right—make you his.
“it’s a shame. you look beautiful tonight.” he admits, watching as you blush and turn away.
“god, don’t do that.” you groan, dropping your head into your open palms as you ward off the embarrassment that brews all over again.
the blonde laughs—rich and a bit puzzled.
“i mean it, he’s a loser.”
you shrug, not disagreeing.
a silent beat passes and then another.
“come home with me,” he then blurts, those golden eyes so soft and hankering. “please?”
all you can think is yes. your brain and heart scream in unison, pleading for you to nod your head and spend the night with your colleague—something that flaunts the reputation of being so foolish, yet somehow, all that you can ponder is the idea of leaving this stupid fucking bar with a man who actually gives a damn.
a sweet smile graces your lips and his heart throbs.
you nod. “okay.”
not even an hour later, you’re sluttily bouncing up and down the entirety of his cock on the expensively plush rug of his luxurious living room, failed date long forgotten. big, greedy hands encage your waist, guiding your crazed movements. his warm thumbs caress the even warmer skin of your stomach, committing your softness to memory.
“hic—he’s a f-fucking loser,” nanami hiccups, indulgently rolling his hips to meet yours in deep, deliberate thrusts. “yeaaah, he’s a fucking loser, huh?” he expels an unstable breath, nostrils flaring. “doesn’t matter, you’re all mine… mine, mine, mine.” the timber of his voice pitches progressively lower, trailing into something of a growl. “say it.”
“i’m yours.” you gasp, collapsing onto his chest from the force of his bucking hips.
he draws you closer, soft lips ghosting. “what’s mine?”
“my pussy, fuck.”
“what else?”
“my mouth, m-my tits, my body—everything!”
nanami groans, dragging you unbearably closer, slotting his lips against yours in a deep, filthy kiss. he’s gone, completely unabashed as he sloppily sucks on your tongue, glittery webs of saliva tethering you as one beautiful mess. he whimpers into the honeyed depths of your mouth as that pretty pussy swallows his cock the way it was always meant to.
your head spins when he’s drunkenly flipping you over, pressing you into the carpet with nothing but unfiltered lust. longing. firm, assertive hands are splaying beneath the underside of your quivering thighs, brazenly prying you apart as if you’re the last meal he’ll ever have. god, and the warm, pleasureful stretch that follows threatens to split you in two; it has you reeling.
“he wouldn’t fuck you like this,” he rasps, honed hips drawing back slowly, methodically. “don’t even know the fucking guy ‘n i could tell you he wouldn’t hah– fuck you like this, would he?”
you shake your head pathetically and nanami c yoos, whispering all of the horrible things he’s been waiting to do to you. he reaches an eager hand between your searing bodies, feverish fingers latching against your swollen clit and rubbing. you let off the prettiest cry, back arching into his touch like a whore.
“fuh— fuck me h-harder,” you’re so fucking pretty, brows furrowed as you pout for him, begging. nonsense tumbles from your pretty, parted lips and it makes his cock throb. “please… please. you feel soooo fucking good.”
obliging, nanami adds a little more of his body mass, fucking you with intention. the thick, pumping veins adorning the hooked length of his shaft twitch against the walls of your cunt and fuck, he feels it. he can feel the way you tighten up around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper and deeper. can feel how your clit pulses beneath the pad of his thumb, wordlessly begging for more. can even feel the way you’re about to make so much a mess that it drips all the way down to the fat of his swollen balls.
“suuuch a p-pretty girl, fuck,” he babbles, messy brows knitting in his ever growing pleasure. woozily, his head is slumping to one side, something irrepressible overcoming him. “knew this perfect cunt would take allll that fucking cock… every fucking inch, huh?”
all you can manage is a slack jaw, a breath of incredulity leaving your lungs as you squeeze down the length of his cock. arousal pools in the lower half of your belly, creeping up the depraved arch of your spine in something heinous. nothing that leaves you makes sense anymore, only inaudible cries of how close you are and how good his cock is making you feel.
“i wanna cummm,” it’s whimpered between little your gasps of air as you tighten around him once more, swallowing all of his languid thrusts like your life depends on it. “please make me cum… wanna cum on your c—cock, goddd.”
a high-pitched wince falls from his mouth as he fucks you deeper, warm thumb dragging over your clit so tenderly that it makes you buck. you will be the death of him, he’s sure of it—if it’s not the way you’re crying out his name like he’s the only prayer you know, it’s the way you’re creaming down the entire length of his fat, glistening cock like you own it.
“yeeeah, cum on it… m-make a mess all over it—all over my cock,” deliriously, his lips are finding yours again, consuming the beautiful cries that tear from your sore throat. “soooprettysofuckingprettyfuuuck.”
like a gentleman, he’s fucking you throughout your entire orgasm, nursing you through it all before reluctantly sliding out with a groan. your hand finds fist as he desperately pumps his aching shaft. the sensation of your much smaller fingers attempting to match his pace is what has him emptying the contents of his sticky balls all over your cunt, your beautiful name on the tip of his tongue.
warm, syrupy ribbons of cum dribble between your swollen lips, your pulsing hole greedily sucking in his arousal as it creeps lower and lower. nanami watches drunkenly as you heave, plush thighs trembling in your overstimulation. he huffs an audible breath, wordlessly admiring you in this new, salacious light.
“you really do look beautiful tonight,” nanami smiles, fingers brushing your chin. “i mean that.”
i feel like no one appreciates brattiness anymore like what do u mean u don't like me giving u an attitude on purpose so that you'll fuck it straight out of me???? let me annoy you so much that you just have to throw me on the bed and remind me to have some manners around u
࣪𖤐.ᐟ — there’s just something about putting gojo and nanami in the challengers threesome situation that i simply cannot resist so lest us fret and let us feast
the chase was always the fun part. that back and forth banter between you and your counterpart — pushing them past their breaking point as you saunter away time and time again because they'd always come back for more. you knew how to lure. and you were divine at it. so much so that it was even a foundation of your cursed technique. the chase was something you lived for. those moments of feeling ever so high, especially alongside the horrors of the profession of sorcery, was what got you through the day. it was elementary, really. a good work crush could solve everything.
satoru gojo was too easy. you had him wrapped around your finger the moment you met him. even if he was just as quick-witted and could send your shit right back at you, at the snap of your fingers he was your dog and he’d sit down and listen. the eye and admiration of kento nanami, on the other hand, was your prized possession, something you learned you had to earn. nanami was your work in progress. he puts up a fight to remain the epitome of calm, cool, and collected. he’d never allow himself a crush in the workplace. the profession of sorcery was too serious. but from the moment the two of you met in school, unbeknownst to you, he quickly realized you were different. kento nanami saw everything he needed to know in the way you carried yourself as a sorcerer. despite his usual indifference to people in general, you grew on him pretty quickly. it was something he kept to himself. you’d been etched on his heart ever since.
the pair were polar opposites. the egotistical asshole and the stoic gentleman. two of your colleagues that shared nothing in common. you laughed to yourself in your head. that wasn't all true. they did share one thing.
that’s why you almost didn't know what to do with yourself now that you had them both here on the end of the bed, sitting on either side of you, so close your outer thighs pressed flat against either of theirs.
it was dead silent, aside from the shallow breaths. the tension in the air so thick you could choke on it. you could feel both sets of eyes on you as you sat there facing straight ahead. they didn't dare move, not without your say.
with a release of your breath, you ran your hands down either of their thighs, trailing a reassuring rub back and forth with a gentle squeeze of either knee. both men faltered at your simple touch. they were antsy, thanks to you, and unapologetically desperate. anything from you and they'd come undone. filthily shameless, too, both of them— neither giving a single fuck that the other is there. anything they can get from you, they'll take with open arms. even in the presence of the other.
it dumped fuel on your fire.
your eyes flitted over to your right, meeting nanami's hazel gaze, taking a moment to yourself to revel in the piercing look before taking his face in your hands and pressing your lips to his. as if he was a delicate thing, despite the strapping size of him. his big strong arms closing in on your frame as they find either side of your ribcage and hold you there with him. as if you would saunter away at any given moment. his lips matched yours in a soft, passionate dance, with a deep-rooted passion that had begged to see the light of day for so long now that was finally allowed to burn. it was achingly sweet, filled with an unrecognizable desire and warmth from the reserved man. you re-met his lips again and again and again, each reunion needier than the last. his hands strained around your frame, his hold so firm like he was making a claim of you.
gojo was genuinely tweaking on the left of you. he needed your attention, now. needed your pretty eyes on him and somewhere to put his restless hands. watching you kiss nanami like your life depended on it shamelessly had his dick hard, waiting his turn so patiently that you'd give it to him just as good if not better. you were playing with him, right? making him be the one to wait and prove he's a good boy so you'd reward him? god, he fucking hoped so. because he wasn't so sure how long he could last being good with a sight as pornographic as the one set out in front of him.
silently gojo’s fingers grazed the top of your left thigh, grabbing at it lightly, like he was reminding you that he was still there.
you swiftly snatched his anxious hand and held it to your center, holding it there against your ribs without breaking the kiss you were preoccupied with. you hummed in response to both of them, one for praise and one for patience.
you're slow to release nanami's face from your hand, drawing back from his hold. his eyes lock to yours in an instant, pupils so blown with lust you almost didn’t recognize him. you couldn't help the smile that tugged ever so lightly at the corners of your mouth, getting off on that fucking look he's giving you. the way it said everything for him. he was utterly submitted; without hesitation, he was at your mercy.
breaking nanami's gaze, you flip to gojo, who gasps at your full attention. your grin has taken over your lips at the sight of him— the tension holding his shoulders taut and completely upright, the sweat adorning his forehead, his baby blues a shade so bright you nearly squint just to have a longer look. you were torturing this poor man. you could feel him impatiently waiting his turn from beside you the entire time, but that's why he needed it.
you knew how to work your boys up so well. you also knew gojo couldn't handle it. he didn't have the self-restraint, not when it came to you.
his hands had already jumped the gun, trailing your thighs up til he hit your hips where they locked on, digging his fingertips in, his eyes boring into yours as he remained still as his chest heaved in shallow breaths. waiting for your word — for your initiative — and you caught it, holding still there in the moment for just a second too long just to revel in his anticipation before leaning in, ever so slowly, until your lips hovered in front of his. those bright eyes left yours to steal a glance down at your parted, panting lips, wordlessly begging you to close the gap. he knew better than to do it himself, as much as he yearned to.
but toying with your boys was what you did best.
you inched the last inch closer, just barely grazing his lips when that soft grin fought its way back to your lips and you whispered, "are you sure your infinity is turned off—"
"for fuck's sake—"
gojo crashed his mouth to yours, not able to control himself any longer. and you oblige, letting him take control as he grabs you into a tight embrace, one hand clutching the back of your neck and the other wrapping around to press you further into him at center of your back. anything to get you closer to him. a place he could finally have you and keep you in. the kiss was rottenly sweet, despite the torment you put him through. he can't keep still, trailing his hands to your face, caressing it as you make quick work of his tongue. you knew he'd need more of you after the teasing, your efforts making him moan raggedly into your mouth.
your right hand dragged up his front to rest delicately at his jaw, grasping it with force at your fingertips. there was a want with every press of his lips, desire coating every flick of his tongue. doing everything he’d been dying to do since he first laid eyes on you.
you paused your fit of passion when a another smile graced your lips. gojo pulled back to look at your face, those baby blues studying your features as his saliva-glossed lips hung parted as he panted to regain his breath.
you caught nanami off guard when you flicked your attention back to him for another kiss, but he returned it with matching energy. gojo pressed his chest up into your back, cupping at your breasts through your shirt, lips connecting with your neck as he peppers soft wet kisses along it. you flicked back to gojo, redirecting his lips to yours again and he gladly obliges. nanami's hands found either side of your ribcage from behind as he buries his face in your neck, breathing in your hair like he was committing it to memory. you flicked back and forth until you had your hands at the back of their heads, drawing them closer and closer to you in the center until you closed the gap between them right before your line of vision, and watch as you press their lips together.
they’re so lost in the moment they don’t react how you might have expected them to react given any other circumstance. your wide-eyed stare can't be broken from the sight. frozen there, you can only watch as the two men go at it. it's ravenous, leaving you slack jawed as you fought to regain your breath. their hands are a blur — in a fit of pure chaos darting from place to place — running through one another's hair to clutching at your thighs to grasping at each other's throats. you're lost in the trance that is this, caving backward to lean on your elbows against the bed, cunt throbbing at the scene set before you. admiring your boys, bonding over the one thing they agree on.
as they made work of each other, several seconds passed as your mind raced with the possibilities now laid out before you. in that very moment, you closed your eyes to release a sharp, relieving breath, and then flicked them open.
the chase had just begun.
“i better head out,” your voice startled the both of them out of the fit of passion they were lost in, both flicking their heads to you to give you their full attention, eyes wide at your statement.
dumbfounded words of protest at your suddenly announced departure began tumbling from their mouths, though you were quick to cut it off.
“it’s getting late. we’ve gotta be up early to finish the mission. wouldn’t wanna ruin your beauty sleep,” you grinned at the pair as you rose up from between them on the bed, them remaining frozen there as you sauntered to the door, sending one last glance back to drink in the same stunned expression on both their faces, “see you bright and early, boys.”
