I managed to move my ass to the gym today and I had thoughts the whole time 😵💫 Also, I'm exhausted now.
— cw: 18+; curvy!fem!reader; body dysmorphia; weight loss mentioned; rough sex; emotional hurt/comfort
You're fine until you walk past the wall of mirrors. That's how it always goes.
You're laughing at something Simon said, towelling off sweat, riding the post-workout high that makes you feel capable and strong and like the body you're living in is yours, and then you catch your reflection at the wrong angle and the whole thing collapses like a controlled demolition.
Your smile drops, your hand drifts to your hip, fingers pressing into the softness that's still there despite the months of hard work and calorie counting, and your eyes do that thing Simon knows too well. The bloody cataloguing, measuring, finding every part that doesn't match the version in your head.
He's familiar with that look; wears it himself sometimes after a cold shower at three a.m. when the bathroom mirror catches him without the mask and the scars are just ugly scars and not armour.
But he doesn't say anything at the gym, because he knows you'd deflect and rather start an argument than admit to your feelings. So, he drives you home in silence and lets you sit with it, because pushing too early makes you retreat further, and he's learned your patterns the way he has learned everything about you since you became his person, and therefore his to protect. Even from yourself.
He waits until you're in the bedroom, still in your gym clothes and avoiding the wardrobe mirror, and then he's behind you.
"Look."
Your brows furrow in confusion before you understand, sighing. "Simon, don't. Not now."
But he turns you anyway, manhandles you in front of the mirror and pins you there with his mass; one hand flat on your stomach, the part you hate most, and holds it.
"Look at ya," he murmurs against your ear, giving you a nudge when you don't. "Fuckin' look."
Then he's stripping your leggings off with his free hand, ever efficiently and impatient, and he's already hard; has been since the gym when he watched you deadlift with your jaw set in quiet determination and your thick thighs shaking.
And he grabs his fat, flushed cock at the base while bending you forward enough to drag his ruddy tip through your pretty pussy and inside of you right there; both of you still damp with sweat, skin tacky and warm, and the sound you make is raw and startled while your nails dig into his forearms.
"You were fuckin' perfect before," he grinds out between deep, sharp thrusts, his eyes locked on yours in the mirror, pale mammoth hand still pressed against your belly, holding you against him. "Perfect now. Only difference is—" a harder thrust that knocks the air out of you, "it's easier for me to throw y'round."
"Nghh, Simon—!"
"Get outta yer fuckin' head." His other hand grips your jaw, tilting your face up so you can't look away from the reflection of him, towering behind you, his scarred hand against your supple skin, his hips snapping into you with a rhythm that makes your plump ass ripple against his hips. "Stay here. With me. Look."
You look and you see his hand on your stomach, not avoiding but holding it. You see his bare face over your shoulder, wrecked, staring at your body like it's the only thing in the room worth seeing.
"There we go," he mutters when your eyes finally stay on the mirror. "There's my pretty bird."
You come on his cock watching yourself fall apart in his arms, and he follows with his teeth in the muscle of your shoulder and your name bitten into your skin, and afterwards he keeps you there, keeps his rough hand on your soft belly in front of the mirror until your breathing slows and the glass shows two very sweaty, fucked out people holding each other up.
"Better?" he grumbles.
You nod, exhaling shakily. "Y-Yeah."
"Good. Now shower. You smell terrible."
You gasp, your face twists into a fond frown before you smack his arm and feel his spent cock twitch inside you.
"You're such a prick sometimes."
Simon snorts, inhales your musk behind right your ear while you squeak with a long groan. "Aye. Welcome."
Went to the beach today, because no electricity+sweltering heat means we gotta cool down somehow, so we are getting Simon Riley beach snippet
Simon doesn’t usually stare at people like that, he knows better than bother anyone on his own leave. No need to look for trouble when he’s trying to enjoy some bloody peace and quiet.
But you take him to the beach because you don’t wanna go alone, because ‘watch my bag while I swim, please’ because Simon Riley and his scarred mug are enough to deter anyone from bothering you when you too want to enjoy some peace and quiet.
Peace, Simon thinks, eyes trailing over your wet hair sticking to your nape, there is none for him given the swimsuit you are wearing.
Perfectly fitting and very much wet, it leaves just a bit to imagination when you walk out of the water back to the towel he’s sitting on in the shade — eyes dark and hazy.
“Are you bored? I’m hoping it isn’t too uneventful for you here, l.t.” You start, taking a deep breath in and Simon would love to say that his eyes did not dip to your chest when it expanded. Only that would be a lie and he isn’t good at it.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry ‘bout that.” Simon just tilts his head from side to side, stretching out, sweat shimmering on his shoulders and Lord knows he did not lie when he said that he can get an impeccable bronze when tanning.
“You sure? Cause we can leave in a few.” You offer just in case, but he shakes his head, glancing up at you from under the heavy hover of his brows. Enjoys the view maybe more than he should.
Definitely more than he should.
“No need. I like it here.” And that was as honest as he can get without going into detail because by God he does really like it here. “You up for another swim?” Is a little bit of a goading but you like swimming, right? And Simon likes watching the stretchy fabric of your swimsuit sticking to your skin — his throat working when you nod and turn back to the sea. His eyes dipping down your back and Lord, have mercy.
You are flushed with heat of the sun and grinning from ear to ear when give him a big wave, already waist deep in the water, stretching out a hand above your head so he doesn’t miss you and Simon simply raises his to give you one back.
He ain’t missing you for the world, definitely not today.
Simon doesn’t have as much discipline as people usually assume, mostly because he has bigger appetite than most expect.
Because you plop down next to him and he has to swallow the urge to lean down and lick a stripe up your neck. Ignores the impulse to burrow his nose between your tits, cooling his burning face with the perfectly wet skin there.
He isn’t much of a poet, but maybe that’s exactly how it would feel to kiss the sea itself when he can taste your heartbeat and salt on his tongue, soft flesh inviting to bite.
Simon doesn’t think much when he offers to help you with the sunscreen, because at this point his head is so empty that you could ring a church bell inside of it and the sound would echo.
It’s just a small favour, nothing…inappropriate, he’d say if he was a fucking liar because you sit between his thighs, back to him and when he rubs the sunscreen on your shoulders, his fingers slip under the strings holding the upper part of your swimsuit.
Strokes the skin under, massages the imprint left on your shoulders because heavy is the weight or whatever the fuck they say. Simon’s fingers squeeze and knead your shoulder till you are soft and pliant.
A little too quiet compared to usual routine, but that’s okay. Been hot out here today, yeah?
You are tired, he gets it. That’s why Simon even offered help, you know? he hums above your ear, thumb rubbing you nape so you’d hang your head lower — pulse thudding in your ears. Lieutenant is good with his hands, knows exactly where to press down or rub, learning what you like better as he goes.
Catches your shuddering intake of breath when his fingers catch onto the bow on your back and tug on it. Just getting everything covered, he’ll tie it back later, he promises. No one’s looking anyway.
There is something incredibly thrilling about massaging your bare back just like that, your heart just below his palm when he feels it thumping. You cross your hands over the chest, trying to keep your upper part of bikini in place while he does his work on your back.
You do your best not thinking about his fingers slipping to your lower back to massage all around it, about his wide palms stroking your love handles and belly so close to where he can’t touch that it feels embarrassing getting that excited.
He’s just being helpful. You can’t know if he’s even interested. He’s not like that.
Simon is exactly like that when he leans closer and presses his chest to your back — sticky with sunscreen and divine to the touch when he softly squeezes your belly. Rubs the sunscreen in, humming to himself as he goes.
“Arms down.” Simon says and doesn’t ask, knowing that the habit of obeying runs deeper than surface level embarrassment about the possibility of your top fucking slipping off of your tits. “Gotta be diligent about it, yeah? Don’t want you to get sunburned.”
You feel like you already has been with the way he just works his way from your shoulders down your hands — massages the softer flesh around your bicep, slides down to the forearm and then counts bones in your wrist and palm with his fingers. Leaves you slippery and smelling like coconut, breath fanning over your ear with “quit twitchin’.” when you try to look at him over your shoulder.
Simon’s palms finish each hand before he returns to your neck, curls a palm around it casually while covering it with sunscreen too. Taps your chin to tilt your head up when his other hand slides under the untied bikini and gives your left tit a thorough squeeze, massaging the sunscreen in.
Makes a disapproving sound when you open your mouth to say something and pinches your nipple. Tugs on it a little, rubs in the sunscreen at the tip of it too, clearly teasing.
Has the gall to murmur ‘Feels good?’ right in your ear, smile audible, because you are an open book, because you do exactly as he asks, because you let your lieutenant touch you out in the open.
“Good.” Ghost breathes out, his other hand leaving your chin and sliding down to get a hold of your right breast too.
He rubs and massages, pulls out the smallest sounds out of your throat — rubs his stubbled cheek against it, enjoying himself more than he perhaps should.
Simon shameless with his hunger, he toys with your nipples and takes a hand away only to return with more sunscreen, his smile almost unnerving when you hiccup at the cool feel of it.
Sensitive.
“Got the lower half to do too.” He shares conversationally in your ear, voice almost giddy when your throat works audibly, but you make no move to stop him. “Could get it later.” Simon offers, tugging on your right nipple now. Rolls it between fingers, almost absentmindedly.
Big and scorching hot, he wraps his whole body around your back, thick thighs bracketing you between his legs.
“Heard that beach’s emptier in the evening.” He adds and you are not proud of a shiver that runs through you, because you know he absolutely did feel it too. “Could also come back tomorrow early in the morning, get a head start.”
You are even less proud of yourself when you tilt your head back to look at him and your eyes almost close at his hands playing with your tits.
“Could do both.” You say, voice hoarse and barely above whisper, but his eyes crinkle and you can feel that the bottom of your bikini is sticky right between your legs. “If your schedule’s open, sir.”
Simon smiles, every inch of a Ghost and squeezes your tits one more time before withdrawing his hands from under your top entirely. Ties a neat little bow on your back, coarse-padded thumb stroking the line of your spine to get himself another shiver.
“I’m all yours. Got schedule open till we have to return back for another op.” He says, your stomach drawing hot and tight.
That’s two more weeks until you two have return to duty.
“Sounds good to me.” You say, voice cracking and turn your head to nose under his jaw. Mouth at the stubble there, lightheaded with hunger he stoked from ember to full blown bone fire. “My schedule’s all open too, sir.” You add, teeth grazing his jugular.
Getting the absolute satisfaction of feeling his own throat work under your lips.
There we fucking go.
“Was thinking, sir.” You start and Simon makes a low questioning sound, tilts his head to give you more access. “Can’t be the only one covered in sunscreen. We wouldn’t want you to get sunburned, yeah?” You paraphrase his own words to him and when you look up in his eyes again, Ghost is heavy-lidded and starved, lips wet from when he licked them.
“Yeah.” He says, voice sending a shiver down your spine because he squeezes you with his thighs, pressing you closer to his back and you can feel the thick outline of him against your lower back. Oh God. “We definitely wouldn’t want that, luv.”
⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ husband!nanami and the attractive things he does pt. 3
tags. established relationship. married life. domestic bliss. gentle love. fluff. pet names (honey). soft!nanami. no angst. ⋮ author's note. another shorter one woo!! the heatwave is genuinely taking me out so i've not been in the mood to write or do anything else at all pffft hence why this is only 500 words and not a thousand ⋮ word count. 0.5k
Husband!Nanami who time and time again places a rough, warm hand on your lower back, the heat pooling through the silky dress you're wearing, arching into him the slightest bit, whilst he presses closer to you to avoid bumping into anyone else in this unnecessarily crowded place.
When you look up at him, if it’s to ask or say something, it’s all the same, because he always bends down a bit, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers his response. When he's done speaking, he’ll press a brief kiss to your cheek, perhaps your jaw, and then he’ll pull back, seemingly unaware of the effect he has on you.
Husband!Nanami who is pleasantly aware that he's got some centimetres on you, even if you're above the average height for women. So, without having to ask, or not even having to utter a single word about it once throughout your long-lasting marriage, he always slows down while walking.
It's ridiculously silly, you seem to think now and then, but it’s enough to make your heart feel warm nonetheless.
Taking a walk in the park? His fingers are entwined with yours, and his long legs seem to stop going at their fast pace so that he can keep up with you. It’s you glancing up at him that does it for Kento—cheeks flushed, pupils slightly dilated, the softest of smiles plastered on your face—and he can't help but allow his lips to tug up into a gentle smile. Oh, how nice it feels to hold the entire world in his hands.
Husband!Nanami whose tone softens when speaking to you. Usually a bit bored and calm, showcasing his practical and beyond professional demeanour, but when he turns to you—lips parting, a gentle hum, tone turning reassuring in every way possible, soothing and serene—he melts.
Husband!Nanami who comes home from a long day at work, the front door closing behind him (a little louder than usual, the lock clicking within the span of a second), and his sleek black shoes being left in the entryway whilst he makes his way to the kitchen.
He doesn't waste a second to squeeze his front against your back, hands pressing against either your love handles or soft belly, tugging you impossibly close. It’s only sooner or later that he drops his head in the crook of your neck, presses a kiss to the skin there and finally allows his shoulders to drop while an exhausted sigh escapes his lips.
Husband!Nanami who always looks back at you. It doesn't matter if it’s because he's leaving for work in the morning, before you close the front door behind him, he’ll glance back over his shoulder, his lips stretching into the tiniest of smiles.
Sometimes his hazel eyes will soften immensely, other times he’ll mouth the words ‘see you later, honey’. But one thing he doesn't need to mouth, or say out loud, is that he loves you more than life itself, for he proves it every day.
reader who inhales some experimental aphrodisiac while on the latest mission.
the transport home is awkward to say the least. you’re whimper, humping your seat lamely while you’ve practically soaked through your panties, cargos, and down onto the seat itself.
“eyes forward, men.” says price from the drivers seat. his calm demeanor gives nothing away if it weren’t for his sweating palms that have a death grip on the drivers wheel.
you whine- a fucking delicious and needy whine. “please…please captain…please can someone help me? please? pleasepleasepleaseplease?”
“oh lord,” mutters soap from beside you. his eyes are oddly focused on the pattern of the roof. “lord please give me the strength right now.” his fingers twitch with ache and his leg is anxiously bouncing up and down. he continues to mumble prayers- which is odd since soap isn’t known to be a religious man.
“please- please it’s so hot. need to take these off. please,” you beg, hands fumbling with the button and zipper of your cargos.
“stop it, kid. Kyle, soap, hold ‘er down.”
gaz and soap look at each other, face full of emotion- uncomfortableness, concern, arousal?
“S-sir…don’t think it’s a good idea for me to touch the lass right now.” Soap admits, taking a slow and deep breath as his eyes unwillingly stare you up and down.
Gaz steps up. Not because he’s eager to touch you, not because he needs an excuse to get his hands on you- but because he genuinely believes that if anyone can have the restraint, it would be him. “I’ve got it, sir.”
he bunches your hands together by the wrist, bringing it away from your pants that are left unzipped but still fully on.
you let out a broken sob that just breaks his heart but stiffens his dick. “Nonononono, just a little touch please? please? Hurts s’bad. Need to…just once, please?”
gaz gulps, and for a second his grip loosens on your wrist. “Garrick!”
gaz jerks, meeting the stare of his lieutenant who’s sweating at the base of his mask. “we’re almost there. keep it together.”
you squirm, crossing and uncrossing your legs in any attempt for a piece of friction that is just never enough.
the rest of the ride is painfully silent, each man thinking the same thing but none of them willing it out loud. It feels like ages when the transport is finally parked at the base and three heads turn to their captain for his decision.
Ghost who doesn’t know how to flirt like a normal person, instead asks “How much d’you weigh?”
Shadow falling over you, broad enough to swallow the reflection in the mirror behind the machine you were just using at the gym. You look up and find Ghost standing there in a black compression shirt stretched tight across his chest, mask in place even here, eyes flat and unreadable above the fabric. One gloved hand resting on the frame of your machine.
The question lands blunt, no lead up, no softening. Like he’s asking for the time or the weather. Your mouth goes dry. He’s too close, too big, the sheer width of him making the space between you feel airless.
You could tell him to fuck off. Should. But the words stick somewhere behind your teeth, and what comes out instead is a mumbled number, barely loud enough to carry, your eyes dropping to the seam where the mat meets the floor.
He doesn’t react at first. Just tilts his head a fraction, that slow, assessing cock of it Then, low and rough through the mask: “Lighter than I’m used to.”
Confusion flickers across your face but he’s already moving, already loading the bar next to you with plates that match the number you gave him exactly, no hesitation, no adjustment. The barbell settles across the padded support with a dull clank.
You should look away. You don’t.
He lies back on the bench, plants his feet wide, and rolls the bar into place across the jut of his hips. One smooth motion and he drives up, hips snapping high, the loaded bar rising clean with the power of it, his body locking into a straight line from shoulders to knees. The muscles in his thighs flex hard under the fabric of his shorts. Up, hold, lower. Up again. The bar doesn’t even tremble under the weight.
It takes a beat for the meaning to sink in. Heat crawls up your neck, tightens in your chest, but it doesn’t stop there. It drops lower, coils hot and insistent right behind your navel and settles between your legs with a heavy, liquid pulse, cunt clenching around nothing. The reaction is immediate and traitorous, slick gathering hot and fast, soaking into the seam of your leggings, clit throbbing in time with every snap of his hips.
Oh.
(Ghost who doesn’t know how to flirt but somehow it works every time.)
Ghost is hardly a jealous man, he doesn't really care about things enough to be jealous.
Well, except for you.
You, and the bloke who's practically been attached at your arm for the past two weeks. You two talk like old friends, like you've known eachother for years. Ghost knows from eavesdropping that "me and him were always close, you know? Kind of impossible not to miss eachother after I had to move."
The thought of it makes ghost seethe. It's a startling feeling considering he's never felt so territorial over someone before. All ghost wants is a moment alone with you, just to talk, and everywhere he turns your boyfriend is there.
Well. He assumes boyfriend, with the lack of a ring. But it's impossible to know when ghost avoids him and by proxy you. The worst part? Ghost didn't realize he liked you until that dickhead came around.
"Oh, ghost! I've been meaning to catch you!" You smile when ghost finally breaks during lunch, boyfriend sat across from you at the table.
You gesture to him, missing the way ghosts hand pulls his balaclava just above his nose, "this is my—"
Ghost kisses you, both hands holding yout jae steady.
The whole mess hall goes dead silent, not that he'd care. He leans in further, having to bow down at the awkward position, licking into your mouth with a wet tongue. You can't help but melt into it a bit, ignoring the gasp from next to you.
When you finally pull away, ghost is blushing beneath the mask, your own face heated.
"This," you say, all smug and pleased as you point to the man ghost has genuinely considered killing, "...is my brother. He's visiting for the month.
....oh.
....ghost grabs your arm and drags you away. He can deal with an angry brother later, right now he's aching to kiss you more and he knows you are too.
Pairing: Rancher!DILF!Nanami x Southern College Girl!Reader
Synopsis: You’ve had your eye on the hot blonde rancher Nanami since you were a girl. His big, veiny hands, deep voice and loving nature for his kids always made you daydream about one day marrying him. At the time he was married, but when you return home, he’s since been divorced and you’ve taken notice of how time has aged him deliciously. He’s noticed the same about you. Is that why he’s always staring at your ass in your jeans? Or why he insists that you bake his kids another one of your famous pies just to get you to visit?
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); No Curse/Modern AU; Older!Nanami (Early-Late 40s); x Younger!Reader (19-22 Years Old); Forbidden Romance; Childhood Crush; Single DILF/Divorced!Nanami; Baking Trope lol; Close Proximity; Eye Fucking; Mutual Seduction; Sexual Tension; Food Play; Nanami Tastes Your Apple Pie; Mutual Oral (Giving n Receiving); CHEST HAIR SUPREMACY!!; Deepthroat; Pussy-Eating; Kitchen Sex; Doggy on the Counter; Reader Cums 2x; Spanking; Mild Choking; Rough Sex; Hair-Pulling; Dom!Nanami x sub!Reader; Almost Caught; No Creampie; Facial & Cum on Tits; Aftercare
Word Count: 15.3k
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: IT'S FINALLY HEEEEERE!! Thank y'all so so very much for your patience!! I hope y'all love this one & take joy in reading it as I did in writing it 🥺🥺 There ain't nothing hotter than Older!Nanami fucking the shit out of Younger!Reader lol -love, Jazz
Credits: Nanami fanart made by the talented Aransmind! Dividers made by @bbyg4rlhelps & @chrisssiren!
“You’re starin’ again.”
Your brother Ino watches you intently from beside you, leaning against the counter chomping on an apple. If it wasn’t for the crisp crunch of the apple between his teeth, you wouldn’t have even heard him. You’re too busy staring out the window across the cut, green grass fields at the hot rancher.
He is currently cutting the grass belonging to the old farm couple across the way from your aunt’s estate; the epitome of Southern luxury under magnolia trees. To anyone else passing by, they would admire your aunt’s home, but you?
You’re more enraptured by the craftsmanship and beauty of the gorgeous blonde rancher flexing his alarmingly (and arousing-ly) large muscles glistening in sweat in the hot sun.
You don’t know how long you’ve been standing by the kitchen window gawking at the rancher, but it isn’t like you’re measuring time anyway. Not like how you’re measuring the radius of the blonde’s slim waist to his plump ass in his jeans. No, I’m not,” you mutter, not even looking at your brother.
Ino cackles, grinning at you. “Yes, you are. C’mon, sis, the birds can’t be that amusin’…or arousin’.” You smack his arm hard, nearly smacking the apple out of his hand. “Hush up! That ain’t funny, Ino!”
That’s when your aunt makes her grand appearance in her polka-dot apron and lace gown, her hair pinned up in a bun to keep the strands off of her face. “What’s not funny? Ino, please put on a shirt, for heaven’s sake!” She grabs a dish towel and smacks him hard on the ribcage, making him hiss. “Ow, ow, alright, Auntie! Jeez!”
Ino gives you a cheeky grin as he walks out of the kitchen to throw on a shirt. He should’ve known your aunt would blow a gasket at the mere sight of skin that isn’t considered ‘proper’. “And you,” she hisses, turning to you with a pinched expression. “Quit starin’ at those animals and check on the pies! They have to be ready for tonight’s annual festival!”
You roll your eyes behind her back as you pop open the oven, letting a plume of sweet-smelling smoke explode from within. Six different types of pies—apple, blackberry, sweet potato, cherry, and pecan—in addition to a small pound cake, peach cobbler, and a tray of chocolate-chip cookies sit in your aunt’s $100,000 oven, baking away.
“I am, Auntie,” you sigh. “I was just takin’ a quick break.”
You only give the baked goods a quick look before your eyes are back on the rancher, drinking in the way sweat drips down his muscular arms fit for crushing watermelons and over his broad chest. You can see a slip of his pecs and chest hair peeking through his wife beater that he so seductively uses to wipe his sweat, giving you a sliver of V-line and happy tail above the waistband of his jeans.
How can a man be so irresistibly sexy yet so off limits? Nanami Kento, divorcee, single father, and local rancher, should be tossed into an institution just for that…and to be protected from horny college girls like you.
Your aunt side-eyes you from the fridge, taking her bowl of potato salad out. She always goes all out when preparing dishes for town events and festivals. Like you, she is a slut for praise. “Well, that quick break is takin’ you quite a long time. Bakin’ is no laughin’ matter, darlin’; especially if you want to find a man at this event.”
You twist around to face her, giving her a side-eye right back. “Yes because your famous apple pie and peach cobbler is gonna do wonders and catch me a husband.” As you turn to close the oven door, you feel a sharp smack from the dish towel on your thigh exposed from under your sundress. “Ouch!” you shriek. “I was kiddin’!”
But your aunt isn’t. She never is when it comes to her cooking. “Do not disrespect my bakin’ skills. Not to mention that you’ve got an apple AND a cherry pie bakin’ in there alongside mine.”
“The cherry one is for the festival. The apple pie is for Nanami’s kids.” You open the door to check the pies out again, having spent all morning preparing them alongside your aunt, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to do so. Your aunt looks appalled at this, placing a hand on her hip. “Wastin’ MY granny-smith apples for some snot-nosed little–”
“Auntie!” you criticize her. You spare a look out the window at Nanami still cutting your neighbors’ grass, mowing along and not at all noticing you several yards away peeking out the window to gawk at him. “Don’t talk about Mr. Nanami’s kids like that. I know how you feel about children, but not all kids are bad.”
Your aunt spares a glance at the rancher too even though he most likely can’t hear you. “No, just quite irksome. They pester me like those damn fruit flies around my fruit orchards, not to mention all that playin’ they do late into the night.”
“They’re just kids,” you giggle. “I doubt as a rancher that Mr. Nanami would have them act any other way than be polite and respectful of their elders.”
You might have a bit of a sweet spot for the Nanami children—two boys named Yuji and Megumi and a girl named Nobara who you have known since they were little toddlers coming up to your knees when you’d babysit them. They’ve grown so much since you were away at college in the city, so it’s like whiplash…especially given the appearance of their father too.
Nanami has always been hot as fuck. The blonde heartthrob that lit up your winters and emblazoned your summers living in your small Southern town. You’ve had an embarrassing crush on him since you were a teen, as did most of the girls in your town.
During your sleepovers, you and your friends always giggled over popcorn and soda about Nanami’s big arms and dreamy eyes…even what he looked like down below, wondering if he was just as big as the rest of him. You were quite a naughty teen, daydreaming about the older man you babysat for.
Especially since this older man was married at the time. His wife was the one who hired you to watch her and Nanami’s kids during the summer and on the weekends. You had to pretend not to be starstruck over Nanami’s dashingly good looks while you were in the presence of his wife.
Though he has gotten older and has considerably noticeable changes (a bit of dark blonde in his short-cropped hair; whiskers of a beard; fine lines by his eyes; the bulkiness of a dad bod), he still has that quiet seduction that makes you simmer. Nanami as an older DILF is the hottest he has ever been. He is just so damn sexy and yummy and—
Bzzz! Bzzz!
You flinch, snatching your phone out of the pocket of your sundress to see that the time has shifted to noon. “Oh, that’s my timer! I have to head over to babysit the kids. Good thing the apple pie is done.” You purposely put your pies in the oven at the same time as the very hour you had to leave to babysit Nanami’s kids.
“Wait, wait,” your aunt protests, staring wide-eyed at you as you slip your apple and cherry pies out of the oven. You leave the cherry pie to cool on the windowsill while you begin to place the apple pie in a dish to take over to Nanami’s house. “Babysit?! When did you plan this?!”
You roll your eyes, knowing she wasn’t listening the moment you told her. She was too busy stressing over pie ingredients. “I told you yesterday that I offered to babysit Mr. Nanami’s kids. He’s goin’ into town to run some errands and I told him that I’d help volunteer to watch the kids before he gets back.”
As you rummage around to grab a grocery bag for the baked goods and your items, your aunt looks on, visibly distraught. “Dammit, Y/N, what about the festival? What about the pies a-and your dress?! You won’t have any time to get your hair done!”
You roll your eyes at her dramatics and pour her a glass of iced tea from the fridge that you brewed this morning. “Auntie, relaaax,” you sigh, passing her the cool glass. “Drink this before you have a heart attack. I’ll be back in time for the festivities, but those little munchkins need me right now.”
You turn to stare in the window, fluffing out your hair and checking your lipgloss. You can feel butterflies fluttering about in your stomach, mostly because this is the first time you’ll be back over at Nanami’s house after his divorce and since you’ve visited. You’ve only gone over there a few times since being back in town to deliver baked goods for the kids…with his insistence, of course.
As you primp, your aunt watches, suspicious. “Are you sure this isn’t just a ploy for you to skip out on the festival?” she huffs, crossing her arms over her amble bosom. You turn to her, gobsmacked and offended. “What?! Noooo! I said that I’d go, didn’t I?”
Judging by your aunt’s arched brow, she doesn’t believe in your acting whatsoever. Truth be told, you don’t want to go to this festival at all. While you used to love the town’s annual festival every summer because of the endless display of baked goodies, ice cream, and water ice, now it’s just a campaign to see who the best possible husband for you will be.
Your aunt only invited you on this little summer vacay after you graduated to find you a decent suitor. According to her, now that you have your degree, it’s time to start looking. And she doesn’t want anything going against her plans. "Fine. Then we’re goin’ over there together so Mr. Nanami can confirm your statement. Off we go.”
You can’t stop her or argue with her, not when your aunt is such a proud lady. So, despite your resistance, you trudge after her minutes later down the road to Nanami’s cozy little home and farm. He doesn’t live in a big, fancy house like your aunt and the many clients he has, helping them maintain their farms, but Nanami isn’t broke by a long stretch.
As the owner of his own farm and a man with a green thumb, he constantly makes bank with his crops, maintenance skills, and tours around his farm. His animals are well fed, his fruit orchards are plentiful, and the town always approves of his land. You used to always ride past it just to get a look at him, hoping to see him.
And now here you are, standing with your aunt in the pretty sundress you planned to wear for him. Knock-knock-knock!
Your aunt’s fist is firm against the cherrywood door, making you flinch. Comin’!” a deep, gentle voice calls out. It gives you shivers. But as the door opens, it’s little Yuji who stands there in his father’s place. “Nanami residence!” he announces with his cute self, his pink hair so soft like cotton candy. When he sees you, he beams with a whole tooth missing. “Hi, Y/N! Daddy, Y/N is at the door!”
And then there he is: the DILF of the hour. Despite Nanami’s casual attire of flannel and jeans, he still makes it hard to breathe. His pecs push against the flannel and denim looks good as fuck on him.
“Yuji!” he grunts, scowling at Yuji as he comes to get him. “I told you not to get the door unless I…” He pauses, seeing you and your aunt standing there. “O-Oh, pardon. I wasn’t expectin’ guests.”
Shit. Caught in your little white lie. Your aunt side-eyes you and quickly, you try to save yourself, thinking on your toes. “U-Uh, sorry, Mr. Nanami!” you chirp. “I had to rush over here just in case you left early for the road. Sorry, I should’ve called.”
Nanami blinks at you, confused. “Yknow…to babysit the kids? I volunteered to watch ‘em like before?”
Nanami is still giving you that clueless expression and you start to sweat buckets in the hot summer sun. “Y/N is gonna babysit?!” Yuji excitedly asks. “Can we make pizza for lunch today?! Ooh, ooh, and can we watch movies?!”
“We can do that and more, kiddo!” you giggle, ruffling his pink hair. You look at Nanami again, hoping and praying that he’ll take the hint and throw you a bone. “So I’m good to come in now?” you ask, your heart thundering in your chest, your aunt’s look a haunting presence.
Nanami looks between you and your aunt, silently sizing you up. “Uh…y-yeah,” he replies, clearing his throat. “Yes, of course. You’re welcome to come in and get settled with the kids. Megumi and Nobara are out back with Maple.” You are more than happy to oblige. “Great! See ya soon, Auntie!”
Without another word, you run into the house, home free. “Ma’am,” Nanami greets your aunt with a respectful nod. “Always a pleasure to see you. I will tend to your orchards this weekend.” And after an exchange you don’t hear because you’re in the kitchen, the door shuts.
Nanami ventures into the kitchen in his boots, smirking slightly. “She’s gone.”
“Oh, thank Christ!” you huff. “I thought for sure she’d catch on. Thanks so much for the save.” The rancher leans against the wall, arms crossed over his broad chest. “No problem. I take it she’s pesterin’ you about that town festival tonight?”
“Oh, more than that,” you sigh, rolling your eyes as he takes your bag from you, lying it on the breakfast table. “It’s been all about pies and dresses and the perfect shoes for days now! I’ve only been back in town for a couple weeks!”
And after a boring couple of weeks, things started becoming more exciting when you ran into Nanami one day at the park. You were sitting on a picnic blanket in your sundress, reading a very smutty romance book, when the sudden sound of panting interrupted you.
Suddenly, you were staring at a golden retriever who ran right up to you and began licking your chin. “Hey, buddy!” you giggled, ruffling his long, soft fur. “Thanks for the kisses! Now who’s your owner, hm?”
You heard a whistle then that made the golden dog whisk around. “Maple! Come!” someone shouted. When the dog barked and excitedly ran towards their owner, you looked over and felt your heart stutter.
Nanami stood there in a white tee and khaki shorts that looked entirely too tight on his muscular legs sinewy with hair. He gave Maple a pinched look as he kneeled before her, ruffling her fur and scratching behind her ears. “Silly girl,” he muttered. “Runnin’ off on your own. What am I gonna do with you?”
Maple just happily panted as you got up on wobbly knees, taking your book and bag with you. You couldn’t stop yourself or the swarm of butterflies that exploded in your tummy. Here he was–your childhood crush after years of being in the city, still hot as ever. “M-Mr. Nanami?” you gasped.
Nanami paused and looked up at you, his eyes squinting behind his glasses. “Uh…sorry, do I know you?”
You giggled, making his cheeks turn pink for some reason. “Damn, did time age me that much? I thought for sure you’d recognize me.”
That was when he looked at you. Really looked at you. And then his hazel irises flickered with recognition. “Y/N,” he replied. “It’s you?” You felt your heart stammer at the way he said your name. “It is,” you giggled. “I grew up quite a lot, haven’t I?” You placed a hand on your hip, smiling at him.
Nanami swallowed hard, clearing his throat as he stood. “You surely did,” he muttered. “U-Uh, sorry about my dog here. She tends to run off on her own.” Maple panted beside him, that wet tongue and innocent eyes so endearing. “Aww, but I’m sure she always comes home to his daddy,” you giggled, scratching Maple’s ear. “How are the kids? And the wife?”
That was when Nanami’s face fell. “Uh…we’re not together anymore,” he explained. “We divorced shortly after you left for school.” You felt a cold pit in your stomach at the news, guilt wracking you. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammered. “I didn’t–”
“Of course, you didn’t know,” he interrupted. “You were in the city. The whole town knew within a week though.” He passively shrugged, giving you the impression that it wasn’t a big deal to him anymore. “As for the kids, they’re off from school for summer break, bein’ pains in my ass.”
“Cute pains in the butt,” you corrected him. “Maybe one day I can come buy and visit them…i-if that’s okay.” You simmered with embarrassment, realizing the implications behind your offer. What if he thought you were some wanton slut trying to sneak your way into his heart after his divorce?
Luckily for you, Nanami seemed happy with the idea. “Why wouldn’t it be? You used to babysit them, so I’m sure they’d love to see you again.” You beamed, happy to hear this, missing those little munchkins for the last four years. “Same here. I can bake y’all a pie just like old times.”
The idea of using your baking skills to create some delicacies for your favorite rancher was already becoming your favorite pastime. The tips of Nanami’s ears grew red as Maple embarrassingly sniffed at your ankles. “O-Oh, you don’t have to. I’m sure you’re relaxin’ too now that you’re off from school.”
But you tutted, waving a hand. “Nonsense! I’d love to make you somethin’ sweet…a-and the kids too!” Speaking of his kids, they made their grand appearance seconds later when a frisbee came flying by, nearly taking your head off. As soon as they saw you, all playtime was over.
She came flying at you, nearly knocking you over with a hug. You had to force Megumi to give you one while Yuji practically shoved his sister aside for a hug. “Y/N! Hey, can you make me one of those blackberry cobblers?!” You laughed, giddy to see them, while their dad was embarrassed by his kids’ shenanigans.
“Kids, let her breathe,” Nanami huffed. “We were just leavin’. Y/N will be visitin’ us this summer, so you guys can help her bake then.” At your clueless look, he gave you a wink that made heat pool between your legs and a stupid grin appear on your face.
Fast-forward a couple weeks of delivering pies later, here you were. “How’d you know I was even headin’ out of town today?” Nanami asked as he began pouring you a glass of fresh iced tea.
You thanked him, sipping the refreshing, mint-and-lemon spiked liquid. “You told me, silly,” you giggle. “Or rather, I eavesdropped on you and my auntie when you came by yesterday to tend to her lawn.” The rancher gives you a smirk like a dad who caught your hand in the cookie jar. “Still the same sneaky girl you always were, I see.”
“Never!” you mockingly gasp. “I am a good Christian farmgirl! Would a bad, sneaky girl go out of her way to bring you baked goods?”
You then reach in the grocery bag and produce the apple pie in the serving dish, its sweet aroma hitting Nanami’s nostrils. His eyes actually grow hooded as he gazes at the pie in your hands…or is he actually gazing at the tender sliver of your cleavage?
Alas, the sudden barking of Maple and pitter-patter of running footsteps ruin the magic. You turn to see the little munchkin trio standing there, all dirty and sweaty from running. “Is that pie?!” Nobara squeals. Yuji beats her to it, grabbing at the dish when you put it on the counter. “Hey, I saw it first! Let me get the first dibs!”
As they start to argue, Megumi sneaks by with a plate, but it’s snatched away from him. “Hold it,” Nanami firmly says. “One at a time. Megumi, gather some plates. But thank Ms. Y/N first.”
He gives them each a stern dad look that even intimates you. Together, the three turn and bow their heads at you. “Thank you, Ms. Y/N,” they obediently say.
“Ms. Y/N?” you giggle as they run off to gather plates. “They never called me that before.” Nanami shrugs, carrying cutting some slices of pie with a sharp knife. “Well, you used to babysit them when they were babies. Now, you’re older…a college graduate…” He trails off, paying close attention to his cutting.
“Yep!” you reply, popping the p. “Fresh out of college and ‘bout to get my first big girl job before I go to culinary school. Oh, speakin’ of which…” You reach into the grocery bag again and produce a small red dish neatly wrapped in plastic. You hold it out to Nanami, your cheeks hot.
“Green-fried tomatoes for you. I snuck some from the dish I made for the festival tonight if you can’t make it.”
You remember how much Nanami used to love them back when you were young, always wanting to bake them for him one day. He now stares at the fried tomatoes in awe like he’s never seen them before. “O-Oh,” he stammers. “You really didn’t have to.”
“Well, you always loved that dish, so I wanted to try ‘em out. Plus, if you can’t come to the festival, I wanted you to get some.” He awkwardly takes the dish in his big hands, holding them, staring at them still.
“So you’ll be there?” he suddenly asks. Silently, you nod, feeling hotter than the sun. “I’ll try to make it tonight…f-for the kids. They love your bakin’ and the town festival.” You nod, smiling, heart pounding in excitement. Could it be that he’ll actually be coming?
After finishing up cutting some slices, Nanami gathers his belongings and slaps on a sexy ass cowboy hat before venturing to his truck sitting in front of the house. You bid him farewell on the porch, almost like a wife saying goodbye to her hubby before work.
“Thanks again for watchin’ the kids,” he says as he pushes a wooden carton of apples in the truck bed. The bed is crowded with all kinds of crops and plants for selling, meaning Nanami is about to land himself a deal.
“Don’t thank me. Just tell me how the green tomatoes are,” you giggle. He doesn’t smile, but his eyes do, crinkles appearing by his eyes. You try not to stare at his firm yet plump ass as he walks off to his car, feeling like a harlot even watching. “See ya later, Mr. Nanami!” you call, waving at him.
He slowly turns and tips his hat at you. “Nanami,” he corrects you. “Goodbye, Y/N. Have fun tonight and call me if you need anythin’...seriously.”
“How many kids do you want to have? Because I want about four, all boys.”
The handsome, young doctor flashes a smile at you, all charm and dimples. You feel nothing as you stand there nursing your second Long Island, the mixed alcohol quickly working its wonders the way this man should be…but he’s not.
The night is warm, opting for sundresses, cut-off shorts, and flip flops. You decided to wear a pretty yellow sundress with white flowers and wedges for the festivities…also for a certain rancher, but he isn’t going to be making an appearance tonight to your disappointment. That’s why you’re here wasting time on the doctor your auntie introduced you to tonight.
“O-Oh, I’m not sure,” you stammer. “I love kids, but I just don’t think I’d be the best at raising that many.” You avert your eyes, opting to admire an old woman’s vendor of mini cakes and homemade ice cream two feet away from you.
The doctor–Sasuke, his name is–gives you a smile, the summer wind wafting through his black hair. “Well, from what I saw earlier, I’m convinced you’d be an excellent mother. I would need someone who has a motherly instinct.” He sips from his cup of punch, the Rolex watch on his wrist glistening.
You smile, flattered. “Thank y–”
“And a woman who can cook. I’m quite busy with my legal work, so I’d inquire someone to bake for me. That’s the way of a housewife, after all.” Sasuke has the nerve to flash you a smile after he says this, like it’s such a compliment to be resorted to such duties. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but you manage to hold it together long enough to smile at him.
Luckily for you, when you hear a familiar whistle, you turn to see Ino and Yuki sitting at one of the picnic tables set up on the grass. “Oh, I believe you’re gettin’ summoned!” you announce, a little too happy to do so. Sasuke nods, taking your hand in his. “Of course. Come find me durin’ the fireworks.” He kisses your knuckles before he gives you a wink and bids you farewell.
You hightail it out of there, feeling like you were about to melt from boredom instead of the summer heat. The night is warm, causing the townsfolk to opt for sundresses, cut-off shorts, and flip flops. You decided to wear a pretty yellow sundress with white flowers and wedges for the festivities…also for a certain rancher, but he isn’t going to be making an appearance tonight to your disappointment.
“I regret to say, but I may not be able to make it to the festival,” Nanami sighed over the phone. “I got caught up in some errands and the traffic here is awful.” You were standing in the kitchen with homemade pizza for the kids, watching them run around the backyard with Maple. Your stomach pitted from the announcement, but you hid it with your bubbly tone. “O-Oh, don’t worry! I wouldn’t mind takin’ the kids over myself.”
“I will have Haibara accompany you,” Nanami replied. “He’s their uncle, so he can watch ‘em too. You should be havin’ fun.” You only met Haibara once–he’s Nanami’s childhood friend and a sexy firefighter that your aunt always had her eye on.
“I always have fun with your kiddos,” you giggled. “They were little angels while you were gone.” You stared at your nails coated in dirt, reminiscent of the came of tag you played with them earlier. “You ain’t lyin’ ‘bout that, are you?” he chuckled.
You sucked air through your teeth, leaning against the counter. “Well, Nobara and Megumi did have a little scuffle in the mud, but they got all cleaned up.” Nanami softly chuckled, the sound making you feel warm all over. “You’re good with kids,” he praised. “That’s a good quality to have. I’m sure your auntie is flauntin’ that to every doctor and politician in this town.”
You rolled your eyes, not even wanting to think about it. Not that you were opposed to being matched up, but your aunt always chose the worst men to fix you up with. Men who lived with the mindset that all women were good for was sexing them up and cooking for them.
Nanami cleared his throat then, preparing you for his next statement. “You know,” he began. “The kids really liked that apple pie you bought over. If you’re up for it and you got some left, you should bring over leftovers tomorrow. I’ll pay you for it.”
“Oh, no, no! You don’t have to do that!” you protested. But you couldn’t stop the flood of joy and pride at the fact that Nanami loved your cooking. “I know I don’t, but I’d like to,” he gruffly said. You deserve it for bein’ such a doll with the kids.”
‘For you? Anything.’ The thought popped into your head as soon as he called you a doll. You wanted to be his doll. His sweet little doll who would do anything for him. Realizing his slip-up, he cleared his throat again while you stood there about to melt into the floor. “W-Well, you should be headin’ out soon, right? Don’t want your aunt to come by with a shotgun.”
Despite your disappointment at him not being here, the sugary scent of your body mist and pretty pink nail polish couldn’t go to waste, so you stuck around for the festival. After all, your aunt needed help tending to the loving fans fawning over your baked goods. Plus, free Long Island iced teas couldn’t be missed.
You stumble over to the picnic table and slump down beside Yuki, your childhood friend, sipping her spiked punch. “That was soooo painful to watch,” Ino groans, sitting on the table. “He woulda gotten any more sexist, I would’ve socked him.” You side-eye him as he sips his Jack n Coke. “Not if you didn’t want a slap from our aunt.”
“Still no luck in the love department?” Yuki jokes, running a hand through her long blonde ponytail. You shake your head, giggling when she clinks her cup with yours in solitatory. “Why is she settin’ you up with these uptight assholes?” she wonders aloud. “What about that hot rancher guy?”
You gape at her while Ino snorts into his cup before taking a puff of his cigarette. “Nanami?” you gasp. “You’ve been drinkin’ waaaay too much, girl. There’s NO WAY she’d ever set me up with a man like that.” Yuki eyes you curiously, cocking her head at you. “Like what?” she scoffs. “Sexy? Good with his hands? Great with kids and knows how to ride a horse?”
She gives you a suggestive smirk while you depressively lean your chin into your palm, your daydreams about the dancer conjured. “I mean divorced and already saddled with kids. I don’t care, but she and my family definitely would.” You don’t even want to think about the tongue lashing you’d get if you bought Nanami for a Thanksgiving dinner.
“Yeah, she’s right,” Ino parrots. “To our family, Mr. Nanami is considered “used goods”. Not good enough for our precious Y/N.” He reaches down to tease your hair, trying to cheer you up. You playfully swat him away.
“You still got that cute lil’ crush on him?” Yuki giggles, poking at your side. It’s more than a crush at this point, but you just roll your eyes, playing the part. “Please,” you scoff. “I've grown up since then, Yuki.” But the blonde isn’t convinced, still giving you that knowing smile. “Soooo was that a no or…?”
Before you can admit or deny, you are summoned once again to festival duties. “Ms. Y/N, Ms. Y/N!” Yuuji shouts, running over to you. “Can we have the rest of your blackberry pie?!”
Haibara jogs over too, his pecs bouncing so enticingly under his firefighter merch tee. “I insisted they ask first. They sent Yuuji over to do it.” The pink-haired boy beams at you, his mouth already coated in blackberry juice, making you giggle. “Sure! Y’all go right ahead! Just wash your hands first.”
Yuuji thanks you before running back over to tell his siblings standing by your aunt’s pie vendor.
The entire festival is surrounded with children, from middle schoolers playing ball to babies in strollers that you coo at. “You’re really good with kids, y’know,” Haibara comments with a smile. “Nanami would be lucky to have ya.”
As soon as he says it, his smile fades and he facepalms himself. “Shit, forget I said that! Too many Long Islands!” You blink at him, confused at where this even came from. Was he already thinking about it? Perhaps…did Nanami mention this to him?
But before you can ask, Yuuji yells to his uncle about Nobara not giving him a sparkler. Haibara sighs, giving you an apologetic smile. “Duty calls. Enjoy the festival, Y/N.”
Then he runs off to deal with his niece and nephews’ drama, leaving you reeling and gulping down the rest of your Long Island iced tea. For the next fifteen minutes before the fireworks, you try to enjoy yourself. You dance, you eat, you chat. But it isn’t real. It isn’t genuine. You can’t enjoy the festival, you realize. Not without seeing the handsome rancher.
So after making sure your aunt is busy socializing, you seek your brother out chatting up a hot guy over by a cotton candy stand. “Hey, Ino?” you say, tugging on his shirt. “I’m not feelin’ too good. I think I’m gonna head back.”
Your brother looks concerned at first, but then slowly, his lips curl into a knowing smile. “Uh-uh,” he chuckles. “I’ll check on ya later, sissy.” He gives you a one-armed hug, squeezing you tight.
“Now go get your man,” he whispers before disappearing into the crowd with the cotton-candy guy, leaving you to your own devices.
And you take off running home.
You don’t know what the hell you’re doing. Maybe you had one too many Long Island teas at the festival.
You don’t know if alcohol has the power to make you bake an entire pie from scratch, jump into a hot shower, slather yourself in cocoa butter, fix your curls up with a nice red bow, and dress in your tightest cut-off shorts and prettiest floral blouse…but here you are having done all of that and more as soon as you got home.
Now you’re standing on your crush’s porch carrying a serving dish, drunk and feeling totally stupid. You know Nanami is home since his truck is parked, but what happens if he doesn’t answer? What if he does?
The sounds of cicadas buzz and owls hoot around you, seemingly laughing at you. ‘You should leave while you still can. Just turn your drunk ass around and go home. This man is way too old for you, your aunt would strangle you, and–’
Then the door opens and there stands Nanami in denim jeans and a white tee pressed snuggly against his muscular form. You both stare at each other in silence for a moment, unable to speak. “Y/N?” he questions, his brows narrowing in confusion.
Finally, your brain catches up to your situation and your mouth snaps in action. “U-Um…hi!” you chirp, a little too forcefully. “Sorry it’s so late. I should’ve called, I know, b-but I…” You trail off, tongue tied and burning with embarrassment. This is going so, so wrong.
Nanami raises a brow at you, concerned and confused. “You okay?” he asks. You quickly nod, doing your best impression of a bobblehead. “Yeah! I just had some pie for you and the kids, so I figured that I’d bring it over before it got bad.” You raise the serving dish at him, your smile hurting your cheeks.
But Nanami barely even looks at the dish, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “What are you doin’ here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the festival?”
His soft yet authoritative tone and expression is reminiscent of a dad…or a very good Daddy Dom. You feel your cheeks grow hot and you pull at the collar of your low blouse. “U-Uh, w-well, I wanted to bring you over that pie you wanted. I-It's apple this time. Are the kids back?”
Nanami slowly shakes his head, finally looking at the dish held in your hands. “No, they’re still at the festival. I didn’t mean you had to bring it over tonight…or any day. It was a joke.”
Suddenly, you feel disappointment roll over you like a cold tidal wave. Like a flower, you wither and flush hot with embarrassment. “O-Oh. I misunderstood. Sorry, I should just leave then.” You go to turn and rush off before you can start crying and humiliate yourself more, but Nanami stops you. “At this time of night, it isn’t ideal,” he argues.
You scoff with laughter, giving him a reassuring look. “I live just down the road, Nanami. Don’t worry, I won’t get kidnapped.”
Nanami scowls and you worry that you somehow offended him with the bad joke. “Y/N, have you been drinkin’?” he suddenly questions. He’s looking at you so scathingly that it’s impossible to lie. “Uh…just a little,” you weakly admit. “B-But don’t worry, m’fine! I…oh.” You pause, feeling your head pound from too much alcohol and press two fingers to your temple.
The rancher watches, assessing the damage, and opens his door wider to let you inside. “Alright, that’s it. Let’s get you inside and get you some water.” You stare at him and then inside his house. His very empty house without his kids inside. “U-Um, I really shouldn’t,” you mutter.
But instead of listening to that little angel on your shoulder, you give into temptation and step inside the cozy house. Nanami leads you to his living area where he sits you down on his couch. “Take a seat and I’ll get you some water. Feel free to kick off your shoes.” Then he takes the pie and leaves you to relax (and stare at his muscular back and impressive ass).
As you kick off your wedges and wait, flexing your toes, you hear the pitter-patter of claws against the floor. There stands Maple with her cute, wagging tail and panting tongue. “Hi, sweet girl!” you giggle. Your smile tempts her to come closer and you start petting her immediately. “Awww, am I glad to see you tonight!”
As Maple happily pants and licks your hands, Nanami comes back with an ice cold glass of water. “She’s glad too. Here’s your water. And an Aspirin.” He passes both to you and you give him a smile of gratitude. “Thank you. O-Oh, and the pie is fresh, by the way.”
You don’t know why it pops into your drunk little head, but you start explaining how you made an extra pie just in case but because you had so much, you froze this one with the intention of giving it to Nanami. The rancher scowls in surprise, fixing his spectacles as if to see you clearer.
“This isn’t a leftover from the festival? You made this fresh for me?”
You nod, sheepishly smiling. “Yeah, for you and the kids. I’d never give y’all no leftover pie!”
Nanami looks perplexed, leaving you confused. Doesn’t he like it? Isn’t he happy? “That’s…very sweet of you.” He says this as if he doesn’t know how else to articulate how he feels or what bringing over another baked good means to him. “I was actually in the middle of whippin’ up some apple dumplins’ for the kids.”
You cock your head at him, pleasantly surprised. “Oh…your kids?”
“Tourist kids,” he explains with a sigh. “I got a summer camp comin’ up tomorrow from the city over to tour the ranch.”
“Aww!” you coo, scratching Maple behind her ears. “That’s so sweet of you! I didn’t know you could bake!” The hot blonde rolls his eyes, looking evidently frustrated. “I can’t. But I figured I’d do it myself instead of botherin’ somebody else to do it.” You now notice the flour coating his jeans, a testament to his attempt at baking.
“Well, I’d be happy to help you…i-if ya want! It’s not that I think you can’t do it or anythin’!” You clamp your lip shut, mentally licking yourself.
“Well, now I do,” he replies, his hazel eyes lit with mirth. “Kiddin’. You really shouldn’t be up at all though.” You tut, appreciatively sipping the water. “The water and the Aspirin help. It’s the least I can do for you helpin’ me out. Pleeeease?”
You don’t know why you beg him. Or why Nanami’s eyes seem to flash at the little whine. “At least you got manners. Fine, but don’t make fun if I don’t know what I’m doin’.” You slowly stand from the couch, going in front when he leads you from behind. “I’d never!” you gasp, twisting around to give him a wink. “I’m a good Southern gal, don’tcha know?”
“I know,” he murmurs from behind you. You think you feel his eyes on your ass in your denim shorts, but you can’t be too sure. You’re afraid to turn around and look. Finally in the kitchen, you assess the mess he made on the counter: bowls and pots stern everywhere; flour coating the floor; ingredients left discarded.
Nanami blushes red at the mess while you giggle. “No problem for me, Mr. Nanami! Now let’s take a look at the recipe.” As he passes the recipe sheet to you and you read off the ingredients, he gathers them one at a time: eggs, cinnamon, yeast for dough, granny-smith apples, etc. And your favorite part: buttercream frosting.
“I can fix the frostin’,” you volunteer, holding up the whisk and a bowl. “It’s my favorite part.” Nanami smirks at you as he starts to chop apples the way they are presented in the recipe, standing side by side with you. “If you really must.”
You giggle, putting your hair back and sliding on the apron he gives you–pretty and flowery, just the way you like. “It used to be my wife’s,” he explains. “I never got rid of it.” The admission makes you feel down, like something is weighing on your back. Does Nanami feel this way, you wonder? Is the constant wondering and hoping for a new love to come along weighing on him?
Silently, you work together, moving from slicing apples to seasoning the dough in flour. It is peaceful and serene. You find it easy to be quiet around Nanami, not because you don’t want to talk to him but because you don’t have to. It’s so easy to just…be.
However, you don’t mind hearing his smooth-like-butter voice when he finally speaks to you while trying to pound out the dough. “So how was your school? I heard you graduated. Congratulations.”
You smile at him as you slice more apples for him, each movement you make careful and skilled. “Thank you. It went as good as you can expect four years in an Ivy League.” Your family wouldn’t have had you gone anywhere else but an Ivy League school, wanting you to have the best of everything for your education.
THUD! You turn, watching Nanami slam down the dough, pounding it out the way you’d want to be. His big, veiny hands mold and knead the dough rather roughly, making butterflies flutter about in your stomach.
“You’re gonna leave lumps that way,” you giggle, making him pause. “Here, let me show you.” You lower the knife for slicing and scoot closer to him, unbeknownst of his blush. “Spread the dough out like this,” you instruct, spreading the dough out with your hands until it’s semi flat. “Then use the rollin’ pin to make it real smooth.”
You pass Nanami a rolling pin and, not even thinking about it, take his hands and position them the correct way on the pin. He allows it, quiet, watching your hands move his, rolling the pin back and forth. Once he’s got it, you let go, ignoring the zing of electricity that exploded through your veins from his touch.
Mentally berating yourself, you go right back to your post and put all the apple slices in a bowl to be seasoned. “A-Anyway, now I’m just here for a vacay before I go back to the city for work. And to find a husband.”
“....What?”
You begin to gingerly season the apples with cinnamon and nutmeg. “But truthfully I wanna stay here to build my own bakery and—“
“Wait, hang on,” Nanami interrupts, staring at you in utter confusion. “You’re here to find a husband you said?
At his narrowed brow and hot, hazel eyes behind his glasses, you flush. “O-Oh, that slipped out. My bad. My auntie is convinced I need to start lookin’ for a suitable man as a husband since I ain’t gettin’ any younger.”
You pause just enough to breathe while Nanami begins slicing the dough for the dumplings. “So now I’m here gettin’ tossed around to every event at every doctor, lawyer, and rich college boy in town and she’s tried hitchin’ me up with this young doctor at the festival and…aw, hell, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t even be talkin’ about this to you.” You brew with embarrassment, realizing that you’re rambling.
But Nanami isn’t perturbed by it one bit “It’s fine. I’m the one who asked…so would you ever wanna be married?” He passes the little dough squares to you and together, you begin to put apple slices in each one before clamping the squares shut, building little pockets for the apples to bake in.
“Of course! It’s been my dream ever since I was a little girl. I just wanna meet the right one and start a family with them.” You feel slightly uncomfortable with how safe you feel talking to Nanami about things like this. Private things. How does he have such power over you? “Did you….” You pause, biting your lip.
“Did I what?” he gently pushes, his gaze locked on you. You contemplate even asking the question, unsure if you’re warranted to do so. But under the rancher’s prying look, you feel your lips move before your brain can stop them. “Did you ever think someone was ‘the one’ at first?”
Nanami takes a moment to think on this as you begin to place the dumplings on a baking sheet. He takes a little brush and brushes them with melted butter, careful and delicate…the way he would be with you and your body. “My ex-wife. We were high school sweethearts. Her parents didn’t approve of a farmhand courtin’ their daughter, but she loved me just the same…”
You remember his wife–the woman you envied when you were young. It was stupid. Just dumb teen stuff, crushing on an older man you could never have. Finding out about Nanami’s divorce was like whiplash. You always thought they’d be together for a long time, especially with three kids. Then you started wondering how anyone could give up a man like Nanami.
“Tiill she cheated with one of her wealthy colleagues years later,” Nanami finishes.
You pause, gaping at him in quiet shock. How the fuck could ANYONE cheating on this fine ass man?! Is she stupid?!
After finishing up the dumplings, Nanami takes them over to the oven and slides them in for thirty minutes. He slams the oven door shut, making you flinch. “After that, you know the rest: divorce, she took off, and I got left with our farm and our three kids.”
He doesn’t look upset. If anything, he is calm and collected about it. “I’m so sorry,” you murmur. He shrugs, slowly shaking his head. “It’s alright. It happened quite a long time ago. The good thing is that she still wants to be an active mother.” He then takes the dirty dishes from the counter and places them in the sink.
Nervously, you toy with the ties of your apron, wanting to fill the tension with some sweetness. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a great father,” you softly praise him. You pause, murmuring, “And you were a great husband too. You deserve someone you can count on.”
You didn’t think Nanami would hear it, but he does, and he turns to you, mouth parted in shock. “Y/N,” he says in that deep, captivatingly sexy voice.
MOOOOOOOO!
You jump at the sudden sound, looking out the window to see a black-and-white cow galloping in the backyard. “Goddammit,” Nanami grunts. “Damn cow got out again. Stay here; I’ll take care of it.” And then he’s gone, allowing yourself to properly breathe. The kitchen is getting too hot…and not just from the dumplings!
You should leave while you still can. Salvage your friendly relationship while it’s still intact. But instead, you pick up the mixing bowl and get started on the buttercream frosting. You hum as you pour, mix, and whisk, the cooking taking you out of your body for a while.
But then your mind wanders and you picture yourself mixing just like this, standing in a pretty dress while Nanami comes home to you from work, his hands on your hips and his soft lips on your neck.
Your fantasies are only ruined when Nanami comes back inside the kitchen, huffing from the cow situation. “Oh, you’re back!” you happily exclaim. “You can be my guinea pig and try this frostin’ for the dumplins’. I think it’s kinda sweet, but a lot of kids love sweet stuff, but what do you think?”
The ranger stands there as stiff as a board, coming off like he doesn’t understand your bubbly rambling. “Erm…I’m not much of a sweets person,” he coughs. “My only exception is the pie.”
Still, you smile, giggling so sweetly. “That’s okay! You can still try the frostin’, right? It’s for you, after all.” You take a clean spoon and scoop up a bit from the bowl, holding it out to him. “Here ya go,” you chirp, smiling brightly at him, but that smile quickly fades after what Nanami does next.
In a flash, his hand is wrapped around your wrist and he’s bringing your hand to his mouth for a lick. His pink tongue juts out between his lush lips to taste the sweet, vanilla-flavored cream, the sight of it making you feel hot all over. Your smile fades and the tingles you felt earlier with him so close return, traveling straight to your panties.
His eyes flutter shut as he licks the cream off the spoon, his blonde lashes fanning his cheeks. A sift him leaves his lips, making you teem with arousal. When he finally finishes licking every bit of frosting off the spoon, he comes back to his senses and stares at you in total horror.
“I’m sorry,” he immediately says. “I-I shouldn’t have…I don’t know why I…fuck.” He steps away from you, running a hand through his hair.
“I-It’s okay,” you stammer, shocked you can even speak. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pushed you to try it…um, you got some here.” You point at the the curved if his mouth where a dot of frosting lingers. He wipes at his chin, not quite getting it, causing you to giggle. “I got it.”
You reach toward him and wipe the frosting from his mouth. And before you stop yourself, you reach out to wipe the cream off of his chin and lick it off of your finger. Everything tastes good coming from Nanami. You wonder briefly if you’d taste as sweet if you were on his tongue.
But the brief thought disperses once you come back to your senses and see how Nanami is staring at you. ‘Oh, no, no, no! What did I just do?’
“I don’t know why I just did that,” you weakly say. “I-I should go.” Immediately, you put the bowl down and try to untie the apron but your fingers are shaking too much.
You turn to face away from Nanami as you wrestle with the apron, but Nanami stops you, placing his hands on your arms. “No. Don’t leave,” he says, his voice gruff and deep, but his tone almost pleading.
His hands gently lower yours off of the apron and trail down to your hips, holding you against the counter. He holds you like he’s desperate for you to stay, his fingers clutching the apron.
You are frozen. Totally and completely. “Nanami?” you exhale. “What are you doin’?”
Nanami is silent for a moment, simply standing there behind you, making you feel all of his muscles pushed against your back. “You make this so hard for me, y’know,” he huffs. “I’ve been tryin’ so hard to fight this since I ran into you at the park.”
Your heart is pounding against your ribcage, so fast and loud that you’re sure he can hear it. His fingers grip the loops of your shorts as he presses his nose into the crook of your neck. "I know I shouldn't feel these things for you. This primal need...but God, angel...you entice me. Your heavenly cookin' don't make it no better for a man like me."
Your mind is racing. You can’t believe this is happening. You don’t even know how you can speak: “A man like you?” you parrot. Nanami moves away to allow you to look at him, the sheer closeness of him making it so hard to breathe. “Y’know. Older. Divorced. Saddled with kids.”
He gives a wry chuckle; one that makes your stomach flip-flop. “You deserve so much better than me, angel–someone younger and richer. Someone who your family will approve of. Someone who–”
But his words are silenced by your kiss. You place a soft hand on his broad shoulder, stand on your toes, and place your lips on his with all the quickness of how long it takes for you to pop a baked good in the oven: five seconds.
It is a split decision that you may or may not regret later, but you don’t care if you do. You can’t care. Not when Nanami’s lips feel so damn good against yours.
The kiss is soft yet passionate. Tender yet longing. Nanami’s lips taste like blackberry and sugar from the pie you brought over and the sweet, vanilla taste of the frosting for the apple dumplings.
He doesn’t make a sound as you kiss him except for the soft, smacking sounds of your lips connecting over and over again. The slight prick of his beard against your cheeks makes you tingle and his smell–cologne, evergreen, and wood chips–makes wetness pool into your panties.
How you’ve longed for this kiss. To kiss him. To finally see how an older man feels compared to someone in your age bracket. To finally make your fantasies into a reality. You’ve never been so pleasantly surprised and satisfied by anything in your life, not even tasting one of your desserts or baked goods that come out the way they’re supposed to!
When you finally pull away, your heart is racing. So is Nanami’s; you can tell from his labored breathing. He stares at you, quiet shock in his hazel eyes. “Stop,” you whisper, staring up at him longingly. “You are the one for me, whether you believe it or not. I’ve been crushin’ on you since I was a teen.”
All those days of riding past his farm on your bike hoping to catch a glimpse of him; agreeing to babysit the kids just to be near him; hoping your cut-off shorts and sundresses interested him enough.
You give him a smile now, one full of maturity and seduction. “But I’m grown now, Nanami, and I know what I want...” Your hand travels up to press against his hard chest, your fingertips right over his beating heart. “I know who I want. It’s you.” Nanami continues to silently stare at you and for a second, you think he’ll kick you out.
But instead, his big hand finds your cheek and he swoops down to kiss you again, making you moan in surprise. This kiss is still soft and sweet as Nanami, but it is also impassioned. Possessive. Hot. So, so hot the way he securely cups your cheek and presses himself against you, his muscular body flush against your smaller frame and softer curves. You grasp his forearms as he holds your waist, pushing you against the counter before wedging himself between your thighs.
Now your hands find his waist, grasping it, pulling him deeper into you. Nanami’s groan arouses you the way a cute, rich college student never could as he pulls his lips away from yours to take a breath. “We really shouldn’t,” he pants into your mouth. “W-We can’t–”
“We can,” you softly moan, pressing your lips to his again. You can’t get enough of them. “I want this, Nanami. I want you.” He pauses, staring into your face, his hand still on your cheek. “Kento,” he grunts. Your body tingles at his government the way it does at his touch, his calloused palm so warm against your skin.
“So you want the divorced farmhand as a suitor? Not the doctor that was workin’ for your heart at the festival?” He walks you further into the counter, firmly pressing you between himself and the counter edge so you can’t get away…but you wouldn’t want to even if you could. You wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here.
“No,” you whimper. “Just you, Kento. Only you.” You press your cheek into his touch, his thumb just inches away from your lush bottom lip.
Temptation gets the best of him and he runs his thumb against your lip, making you silently purr. His eyes grow hooded and lustful, exciting you. “Prove it then. Show me how much you want this.”
Your brows knit in confusion. What does he mean? Didn’t your kiss just a few minutes ago indicate your undying want and need (and love) for him? But then you feel something: his hard cock pressing into your panties, hot and throbbing. You gasp into his kiss as you feel it, feeling like someone just poked you with a hot rod and now you’re on fire.
You gently pull away from him and smile, sexy and dimpled. “You must be so tired from today,” you purr, running your hands over his broad chest, indulging in his muscles. “You should sit down for a bit and relax.”
Your words are like liquid temptation to him, dangerous but irresistible. Without a word, Nanami pulls up a chair from the breakfast table and takes a seat in the middle of the floor. He manspreads, sitting back and opening his thighs for you, laying his palms flat on his lap. Seeing him throb in those jeans seems so forbidden, but you can’t take your eyes away. He’s so fucking big! How you’ve imagined so many times sliding his pants off and seeing him for yourself.
And now, finally, that time has come. Nanami’s eyes are playful as he regards you, staring at you so intimately that you nearly melt into the kitchen floor. “Well, you’ve got me here now, little miss,” he says, his voice a deep purr. He cocks his head to the side, smirking slightly. “Now what are you gonna do to relax me?”
Something switches in you that makes you bolder than you were earlier. Not the alcohol, but something else. Something he caused. You find yourself slinking to the floor and slowly crawl towards him, one move at a time, slinking across the kitchen floor like a predator stalking its prey. A she-wolf or a tigress.
Nanami watches you like you have shapeshifted into one of the two, his gaze hot and thrilling, making your insides tingle. His bulge throbs and chubs against his jeans, begging to be released. You notice the way his eyes drink in your swaying tits in your dress and the way the ruffles hike up to expose the lace of your panties and your ass moving in such a lewd way that it makes his Adam’s Apple bob.
A newfound confidence rushes through you, as intoxicating as any Long Island iced tea. To turn a sexy, older man on the way you are turning Nanami on makes you feel like the sexiest bitch walking the earth. And you are prepared to show him your gratitude as you finally make your way over to him and kneel before him in your little sundress.
Nanami’s eyes drink you in as your hands glide along his belt, working it off along with his fly. “This is very improper, you know, honey,” he murmurs. “What would your aunt think of this?”
Zzzzzip goes his fly as you pull it down and he helps you work his belt off, loosening it so you can see his deliciously dark blonde happy trail. “I don’t care,” you reply. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” With his bottom lip sunk between his teeth, finally, he slips his hand under the waistband of his briefs and pulls himself out for you.
Jesus. He’s bigger than you thought. He is all thickness and veins, protruding from a nest of neat, blonde curls with muscular thighs and a bulbous, pink head dripping with pre-cum for you. You can’t help but gape at it as your pussy gushes, satisfied with such a sight. “So when I was a married man, you were thinkin’ about suckin’ my cock?” he bluntly asks. “That’s very naughty of you, angel. And I thought you were such a good girl.”
His dirty words make you shiver, loving how such a proper rancher can be so salacious too. “For you,” you whisper. “If you want me to be.” You wrap a hand around him and begin to stroke him, up and down, up and down, keeping a rhythm that gets you both used to each other.
Nanami softly groans at your soft touch, his cock throbbing in your palm. “I do,” he growls. “You know I want this. Clearly.” His eyes tick down to his cock pulsing in your hand. You look too, staring in awe at the way your pretty pink nails barely fit around his thick shaft. “You’re really…big.”
Your voice is soft and in awe, dripping with arousal and a bit of anxiousness. How would it feel stretching out your pussy once he’s inside of you? “Would that be a problem for you?” he asks.
There is a bit of playfulness in his tone, obviously challenging you. You take it and make him eat his words by wrapping your full, lush lips around his cock. “Mmm, fuck,” he groans. “That’s my good girl.”
He is definitely the biggest man who has ever been in your mouth. As his cock slips past your lips and you begin to suck him like your life depends on it, the gummy walls of your mouth and your jaw bones stretch to accommodate his size. But his sexy, deep groans and gasps from your hot, wet mouth sucking him off makes it a bit easier to take him.
As you suck, you hollow your cheeks and focus on breathing through your nose as his natural scent and seductive cologne fills your senses. Whatever you can’t fit in your mouth, you pump him, your spit dripping down his cock to lubricate your palm so you can stroke him better. Nanami’s fingers lace through your hair, gripping the strands in an effort to keep you where you are: on your knees sucking his dick.
“God,” he groans. “You’re gonna get me in so much trouble, baby. W-We—oh, fuck me—we shouldn’t be doin’ this.” You pause, staring up at him through your lashes, spit coating your glossy lips. “Do you want me to stop?” you ask. “‘Cause I can if you—mmph!” You can’t say much more because he’s pushing your head back down to gag on his cock.
Finally, the sweethearted, respectable rancher persona fades, leaving only a pent-up single dad in need of some TLC. “Don’t fuckin’ stop,” Nanami grunts. “You caused this, so now you need to handle it. Just like a big girl should. Ain’t that what they taught you in Ivy League?”
Really, the only thing that remotely stuck with you from college is how to suck dick. The only difference is that Nanami isn’t a rich college boy who either cums too quick and doesn’t call the next day, or lays there like a dead fish while you’re putting in major neck to make him bust. He is a grown ass man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to show it.
He tilts his head back against the chair, showing off his sexy neck and the vein pulsing there. “Ngh, fuck!” he groans. “A-Ah…oh, angel, your mouth feels so fuckin’ good. You can take me deeper, can’t you?”
“Mmmph-hmm!” you mumble around his cock, still sucking and slurping away. Slowly, he brings your head up, helping you take a breath that you wouldn’t have taken yourself because you just love tasting him. “Sorry, angel, I didn’t quite get that. Do you think you can take me deeper?”
You stare into those hooded, hazel eyes, shuddering and gushing freely from his intoxicatingly seductive, sultry stare. “Yes, Daddy,” you whisper. Those two little words ignite a forest fire in Nanami, wild and untamed. You can feel it in the way his hand grips your hair as he pushes you down and makes you take the rest of his cock down your throat.
Your throat squelches around him as he slips in deep, nearly brushing the back of your throat. Nanami groans aloud, the sound bouncing off of the kitchen walls as the cicadas buzz and the cows moo outside. “That’s it! Fuckin’ take that cock, angel!” He thrusts up to slowly fuck your throat, drawing his spit-covered cock in and out, in and out, watching the way your lush lips stick to his dick.
“Deeper,” he groans. “Take it all, baby. Show me what you did with all those college boys.” To your surprise, you take him deeper and pay the price by gagging when you feel that little tickle. But you persevere, gagging and sucking on his cock, giving him the best head he’s had in his life.
“None ‘em can make you feel this way,” he huffs. “None of ‘em can fuck your pretty throat like I can.” Your pussy throbs in agreement, hot and ready for him. None of ‘em. Not like him. You wonder if he can fuck you just as deeply as he is your throat. Can he be just as rough and sloppy as he is right now?
You suddenly feel his cock throb and his grunts grow more intense, louder, filling your ears like the sweetest music. “Oh…oh, God, angel! You’re gonna m-make me fuckin’ c-cum!” he pants. “You want it? You wanna take all of my load down that throat?” You feel butterflies swarm in your tummy, excited and thrilled. “Mmm-hmm!” you mumble around his cock, ticking your eyes up to stare into his with his cock nestled in your mouth.
There is nothing you want more than to feel every ounce of his creamy cum shoot down your throat and coat your tastebuds…but instead, he stops fucking your mouth off its hinges and pulls out of your wet mouth with a moan. “No. Not yet. I wanna make this last a little longer. Stand up f’me.”
Though you’re confused, you stand up on wobbly legs, damn near soaked through your shorts. Nanami stands too, his stiff cock standing at attention between you. “C’mere,” he murmurs and suddenly, you’re in his arms. He kisses you deeply, shoving his tongue in your mouth. You welcome it with a soft whimper, falling head over heels for his taste. “Jump,” he whispers.
You do so and you’re suddenly wrapped around him like a kolala bear. Nanami carries you effortlessly to the counter, his pants at his ankles, moving carefully to not trip and fall with you still in his arms. He sits you up on the counter, being careful to not stain your clothes. He kisses you for a few more magical minutes before he pulls away and grabs the frosting bowl.
You watch him as he takes a dollop and plops it on his bottom lip. “What are you doin’?” you giggle, before you’re silenced by his sultry kiss. You moan at the mix of him and the frosting on your tongue, everything so sweet and yummy. “Makin’ you taste your greatness,” he huskily replies against your lips. “Somethin’ this sweet needs to be shared and appreciated.”
He takes another dollop and holds his finger out for you. You suck the sugary, buttercream frosting off of his finger, staring deep into his eyes as you do. He then sloooowly pulls it out and drags it down between your thighs. “Just like this here,” he purrs as his saliva-coated digit swirls around your shorts, an embarrassing wet spot appearing in them. “What a mess. Guess you won’t be needin’ these no more.”
He helps you slide off your shorts, leaving you in just your lace panties. He whistles low at the sight of you, soaked for him through the thin fabric. “Do ya get this wet f’me often, sweetness?” he whispers, his hooded eyes staring into yours. He begins to stroke you through your panties, making you moan. “Tell Daddy. Don’t be so coy now.”
He presses his thick index and middle fingers against your puffy slit, making you gasp and grasp his shoulder. “A-Ah…yes,” you brokenly moan. He smiles and pulls your panties aside, revealing your soaked, puffy pussy lips to him. After getting over the gorgeousness of you, he gently slides his digits against your slit, groaning when they come back coated in your honey.
“Taste yourself,” he demands and you do so, sucking your wetness off his fingers, staring into his eyes. “I wanna taste your honey now, angel. Is that okay?” he breathlessly asks.
You nod, unable to properly speak. But that isn’t good enough for him. “Words, darlin’. Tell me if you want my tongue in you or not.” He then kneels and presses a kiss against your clit, making you throb with need. “Yes, Daddy,” you plead. “Please taste me.” You’re so wet that you’re dripping down your thighs for him.
He grins at you, proud of your obedience, and it’s like the sun prying through stormclouds. “That’s my good girl. Now lemme show you how a real man eats pussy.” And after putting a tiny bit of frosting on your tummy and sucking it off, smiling when you giggle, Nanami proceeds to give you head like you’ve never experienced in your life.
Nanami is a skilled pussy eater. If is ranching business doesn’t work out anymore or he finds that he’s tired of it, he would consider taking up cunnilingus professionally…or maybe that’s just your delirium as he slides his fat tongue along your clit and engulfs your pussy in his hot, wet mouth.
Your eyes widen and your toes curl as he curls his tongue against your clit, flicking it in a way that makes your mouth fall agape. Your moans are loud and uncontrollable. He has turned you into a total slut. And then his tongue slides inside of you. “Oh, fuck!” you gasp, your eyes rolling back. “Yes, Ken, just like that! Fuck me j-just like…”
Your words fail you, only coming out as pathetic huffs of air, gasps, and moans that reverberate against the walls. Slosh-slosh-slosh goes his wet tongue as he slowly slides his tongue in your hole and curls it up, filling you up the way he would with his cock…probably even more.
Nanami eats you out like a starving man, holding your thighs apart as you fall apart in his hands. It’s so good that the tingling sensations that his mouth causes travel up to your nipples, causing you to pull down your top to free your tits and hard nipples. His hazel eyes flicker up to watch your sweet titties sway and your hands massage them, using his tongue to bring you pleasure.
Soon, his tongue becomes something of a weapon, fucking you until you’re nearly screaming.
“Mmm, shit!” you moan, gripping his hair with one hand. “M’gonna cum soon, Daddy! P-Please slow down!” You hold the counter for dear life with the other, his tongue lashes just too addictive and intense.
But Nanami won’t let you pull away. In fact, he firmly grips your hips so you can’t run, forcing you to take the pleasure he’s giving you. “No way in hell,” he growls against your clit. “I want you to cum for me now, angel. Give me what I’ve wanted for years. Cum for your Daddy nice an’ pretty.”
He then uses his tongue to thrust it upward, nuzzling his face deep into your pussy. Your whines and moans grow loud, echoing throughout the kitchen. You can only hope you aren’t scaring Maple as you feel that bubble in your core about to pop as you get closer and closer to the edge of your intense orgasm. “Ohhh, I’m gonna cum! Yes, yes, fuck, I’m gonna…ah, Daddy, yes! I’m cumming!”
Your orgasm is as intense as a dip in cold water on a hot summer day, shocking you to your core and making your toes clench. Your fingers clutch Nanami’s blonde locks as his nose rubs your clit, making his glasses foggy. You moan so sweetly as you cum all around his tongue, drenching him in your taste, your thighs clenching around his head.
Nanami welcomes it all, his tongue still slashing your insides and drinking you in as you writhe above him, using one hand to massage your tits and tweak your nipples. Sparks of pleasure explode through you, hot and explosive, making you feel so heavenly and new. When your orgasm finally fades, you slump against the counter, breathless and brand new.
Nanami’s tongue slashes slow down, becoming gentle as he cleans you up. He pulls his tongue out of you and sucks the sweat off of your inner thighs before he pulls away, an animalistic hunger in his gaze. “Sweet,” he murmurs. “Just like you…but now I need more of you.”
His cock confirms, bobbing and throbbing between your thighs. You watch, mouthwatering and pussy clenching around air. You need him like you need to breathe and eat. You need to fill him stretching you. Filling you. Fucking you until he dumbs a load in you, maybe even a few babies.
“Yes, please,” you whisper, clutching his shirt, pulling him closer. “How do you want me?” He stands firmly between your thighs, his cock just inches from sliding inside of your tight, hot, wet cunt. “Exactly like that. Just the way you are.”
You both can no longer resist the temptation. He’s already wrapping a hand around himself and pushing in, prying your lips apart with his cock head. And finally—finally—he slides inside, fulfilling every fantasy and dream you’ve ever had. “Fuck!” you both gasp in unison, sharing the same exact reaction to him filling you up.
He feels perfect. Nothing at all like you thought, but you love that your fantasies have been uprooted. Nothing compares to the real fucking thing. Nanami presses himself flush against you, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly thrusts between your thighs, your feet dangling off the counter. “Is it—ngh—exactly what you thought I’d be?” he pants in your ear. “‘Cause, angel—fuck—you are to me. Do you have any idea how many times I thought about fillin’ you up like this?”
You grip his shoulders, your pink nails digging into them. “R-Really?” you stammer. To hear such a forbidden confession makes you wetter, your honey dripping down his cock. “So many times,” he groans. “What if I told you that I wanted this to? That I thought about fuckin’ you while I fucked my ex-wife?”
His big hand wraps around the back of your behind to grip it, his cock sliding in and out, in and out, his pelvis rubbing against your clit. You moan into the air smelling of cinnamon and sugar from the steaming oven, the apple dumplings completely forgotten about. You don’t care about anything but Nanami’s cock inside of you. “Ken-to,” you moan, each syllable broken. “F-Fuck, more! I need more, Daddy, please!”
He gives you more, rocking his hips a little faster into you, speeding up his slow tempo for something faster. He locks eyes with you, drinking in your slutty little expression, eyes glazed and mouth agape. “God, you take me so fuckin’ well, darlin’!” he grunts. “Take all of me. Every bit of me is fuckin’ yours.”
You couldn’t have asked for anything more. You want all of him the way he wants all of you, his hands pawing at your tits as you rock into him, desperate to take him deeper. At some point, you take some frosting and swipe it on your hard nipples, beckoning his mouth onto each one.
He licks the frosting from your tits, sucking on one nipple after the other, his fat tongue coating your tits in saliva.
You do the same to your bottom lip, moaning from his cock massaging your gummy walls as you swipe frosting along your mouth. “Kiss me,” you beg, the sweet frosting coating your lips. He does so, firmly grasping your chin as he sloppily kisses you, sucking the frosting from your lips.
His kiss is demanding and possessive, stealing the air from your lungs. The clink-clink-clink of his belt hitting the counter edge combined with the plap-plap of his fat cock plunging in and out of your soaked pussy is a sweet, seductive symphony that drags you closer to the edge, unable to stop yourself. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer, soaring higher and higher. “Kento,” you whimper. “I-I’m gonna—“
“PAPA!”
The sudden chorus of the little trio of Nanami kids rings out from the living room. “We’re back!” Haibara shouts. “You in here, Kenny?” Your heart stops and you nearly die right there, not even focusing on Nanami’s adorable nickname.
Nanami pauses in his fucking, but he doesn’t lose his cool the way you are….even though his fucking children and best friend are right outside the kitchen! He places a finger to his lips, keeping you quiet. “In the kitchen,” he calls, his voice level and steady despite being balls deep inside your tight, wet pussy. “Don’t come in here, kids.”
That’s when you see Nobara’s little shadow across the tiled floor. You nearly yelp, only silenced by your own hand clapping on your mouth. You expect Nanami to pull out in fear of his daughter seeing, but he doesn’t. Instead, he keeps himself there, plugging you up with his fat, veiny cock. You stare at him in confusion and horror. Is this man insane?!
“Why not?” Nobara asks. “I smell apples! Are you makin’ apple dumplins’, Dad?! You never bake!”
“Now I see why,” he huffs. “I broke somethin’ and there’s glass all over the floor. I need y’all cuttin’ yourselves. Just go out and play.” The lie is so effortless and believable that even you’re impressed. Nanami locks eyes with you, the lust still burning within them, causing your pussy to clench around his cock.
“You need help in there, Ken?” Haibara asks, concerned. “‘Cause I can—“
“M’fine,” Nanami chokes out as you squeeze him, locking him inside of you. “Just watch the kids, alright? Take ‘em to ride the horses in the orchard.” Haibara seems like he still wants to protest, but goes with his friend’s wishes anyway. “If you say so.” Then, fortunately, you see his and Nobara’s shadows vanish. “C’mon, kiddos, let’s go have a race!”
Finally, they disappear and enter through the front door. You hear the screen door creaking and the kids’ laughter in the night until all sounds disappear. Nanami doesn’t move for a moment, listening for more noise. When he hears nothing, he releases a heavy sigh and so do you.
“That’ll give us about 20 free minutes…if you still want to.”
He holds your gaze, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. You to see him want to fuck you sooo badly, to be as close to you as humanly possible, makes your heart swell and your pussy gush. “I’ll always want to with you,” you purr. “How d’ya want me now, Kenny?”
The little petname makes Nanami’s cock throb inside of you, making you whimper as he holds your chin with a firm, ever-seductive grip. “Bent over this counter,” he softly growls. “Forgive me, but I’m an ass guy and you fit the bill, angel.” You smile, practically singing the body electric. You would do anything for this man; be anybody for him if it meant getting a slice of that dick and another kiss.
So you slide off of the counter after Nanami pulls out and bend over for him, presenting your ass to him. You can faintly hear the sound of the kids screaming and the horses whinnying from outside, making you shiver with anticipation. The idea that you could be caught is a major turn on for you…minus the kids part.
Obviously, it’s a turn on for Nanami too when slaps his hard dick against your clit, the stickiness of your pussy lips making him groan. Then slowly, agonizingly slow, he pushes himself back inside of you. You gasp, eyes growing wide as saucers and your mouth dropping open as he grips your hips to hold you still. “Fuck!” he hisses out, your pussy gripping him tighter in this new position.
You never cared too much for doggystyle with the guys you’ve been with in uni, but with Nanami? He makes it seem new and exciting. He takes his time getting to know your body, paying attention to the sounds you make and your body language. Each thrust inside of you sends sparks of pleasure exploding through you, starting from your buzzing clit down to your toes.
Nanami presses his lips to your ear as his hands firmly grasp your hips, secure but not hard. “Is this okay?” he whispers. “I’m not bein’ too rough, am I?” You turn to him over your shoulder, your lips mere inches from his. “Not enough. It’s okay, Nanami; I won’t break.”
You give him a sexy little smile as you toss your back back into him, earning a loud moan from his luscious lips. “Fuck me, Daddy,” you whine. “Please. I can take it.”
Nanami doesn’t need any more confirmation or convincing than your sweet plea or your ass grinding back into him. So he yanks you against him and proceeds to fuck you with everything he has. Every drag of his cock inside of you wakes you up, emitting all kinds of slutty sounds from his throat.
He grabs your hair and pulls on it, making you grunt at the bite of pain as the strands are yanked on as he fucks you into the counter. The time you spent on your hairdo is ruined, the red bow now crooked. “Such a naughty little girl, lettin’ a older man fuck her brains out like this. This is just what you wanted, right?”
You don’t answer, too lost in the electric pleasure he’s giving you. You’re lost in a world of great sex with a hot DILF, his hands gripping you and his cock massaging your G-spot just right. But then it only gets better.
SPANK!
You yelp as Nanami’s big, calloused hand smacks your ass, lighting it on fire. You love it. “Right?” he firmly asks. He spanks you again, the bite of pain mixing with the pleasure, making your brain foggy. It only intensifies when he speeds up, the plap-plap-plapping of his hips slamming against your ass growing more frequent, filling the air.
You grip the counter for dear life as he fucks you stupid, loud moans and whines leaving your lips as you fly closer and closer to your blissful end. “Yes!” you chant. “Yes, yes, yes! Omigoddaddyi’mgonnacum!” The words are a high-pitched, rushed yelp of jumbled words. You are tongue-tied and mushy-brained, nothing but a tight hole for Nanami to fuck.
He takes his hand and cups one of your tits, squeezing it as he nails your G-spot from behind. “Do it then, angel. Cum all over that cock.” He spanks you again, making you see stars, and presses himself so deep inside of you that you feel him in your tummy. “Cum for me,” he growls in your ear. “Give it to me, darlin’. Cum for me!”
At his deep, gruff voice in your ear, so demanding and wanton, you can’t help but spill all over his cock. You shake and shudder in his arms as you drip your wetness all over his dick, down to his heavy balls sinewy with blonde hair. Your orgasm is intense, explosive, and euphoric, pulling you out of yourself and forcing you into the clouds, high, high above everything and everyone.
Nanami continues to fuck you through your orgasm, making it much more intense. So much that you can barely take it. His pornographic grunts and moans are your drugs, filling you with such euphoria that you smile. “Ngh—too goddamn tight!” he grunts. “Gotta pull out before I breed you.”
‘Breed me?’ The idea of Nanami filling you up with his babies and making you one of his baby mamas sounds like an amazing idea in your dick delirium. Still, because he somehow still has his common sense, Nanami pulls out of you and you hear the wet sounds of him furiously stroking his cock behind you.
“Look up at me,” he pants. “Let me see those eyes.” Slowly, you turn around and kneel before him, all eyes on him and his hand that turns into a blur with how fast he’s stroking. His body is tense, all of his muscles bulging for you, his handsome face flushed. “Cum for me, Daddy,” you purr. “Please. I want it.”
You drag your nails up his body, staring at him through your lashes. You are more addictive to him than you realize, but soon, you get the message. He grabs the counter as he furiously pumps his cum out with one hand, letting out delicious moans as he does. With a long, loud groan of pure release, he tilts his head back and releases himself all over your face and your juicy tits.
You gasp as each warm droplet of spunk hits your skin, quickly drying and marking you as his. It is a strangely addictive experience–being given a facial by your older crush. You feel like no other man can take you now. No other man can compare. Not with the way your pussy aches for more despite just cumming. Though Nanami fucked you out of your head, you ache for it again, horny as ever.
Nanami finally relaxes, his muscular body unfurling like a flower. After his nut, he seems like a new man, glowing from the inside out. But when he gets a look at you, he blushes a hot red, horrified at the sight of you coated in his cum. “Oh, my…I made a mess. Here, let me get you a towel.”
Quickly, he gets a soft dishtowel and soaks it in warm water before wiping his own cum off of your face. What a gentleman! You giggle as he hands it to you to get the rest. “Thank you, Daddy,” you purr as you wipe off your tits. “For the towel and the treat.”
Nanami gives you a sheepish smirk, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he huffs.
“I’m not,” you giggle as you dab at your face, getting the rest of his jizz off of you. “That was needed for the both of us, it seems.”
The rancher smiles, capturing you with his beauty, sinking his hooks straight into your heart. “Definitely. You were perfect, angel.” You smile, unable to resist moving closer to him, needing to be near him. “So were you. Better than I ever dreamed.” Nanami wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer for a kiss when–
Ding!
You gasp, rushing over to the oven. “Oh, the dumplins’ are done!” you chirp. Quickly, you open the oven door, sending a plume of smoke hitting you in the face. Nanami slides an oven mit on and slides the pan of golden-brown dumplings out. “They came out quite nicely, didn’t they?” you dreamily sigh, humming at the sweet aroma.
Nanami peers down at the dumplings as he sits them on the windowsill to cool. “Well, you’re the bakin’ expert. I’ll take your word for it.” You nod excitedly, happy to see him look so pleased. Soon, you’ll be able to sprinkle them with powdered sugar. Your favorite part!
….Or rather, he and the kids will be able to do it.
That little thought pulls you back to reality and suddenly, you’re completely sober from the Long Island teas and the great sex. Quickly, you pull up your panties onto your soaked, sensitive pussy and your shorts. Nanami watches curiously as you zip up your shorts and then begin to fix your top.
“W-Well, I guess I should get goin’,” you awkwardly stammer. “I’m sure you wanna spend time with your kiddies, so I’ll—“
“Go?” he parrots, confused. “You’re leavin’? Just like that?” He has begun to pull his clothes on too, dragging his pants up to hide his flaccid cock.
You stare back, just as confused. “Don’t you want me to?” you ponder aloud. You thought that’s what this was: just a hot hookup. A one night stand with no strings attached. But the rancher stares at you like he wants more without saying it. “Why would I? You helped me bake for the kids tomorrow and we…”
He pauses, clearing his throat. Just the mere memory of what you did minutes ago makes you sweat. “You can leave if you want to, but I’d love for you to stay. You’re welcome here anytime; you always have been.” Slowly, he takes your hand in his, his big palm encasing your smaller one.
You stare at his fingers, unsure of what to say. You want to say a lot of things, but you feel like you can’t. It’s too early. You’re overthinking. This can’t possibly be something.
Nanami senses your apprehension and slowly tilts your chin up to face him. His gaze is soft and understanding, making you melt into the floor. “You’re thinkin’ what this can be, aren’t you?” he coos. You don’t want to answer, but his soft, molten gaze is enough to make you pop.
“Yes,” you admit with a sigh. How can he read you so effortlessly? He nods, wrapping an arm around you to hold you close. Together, you stand in the kitchen, soaking up the last moments alone with each other.
“This can be whatever you want, darlin’. It’s all up to you. But for now, stay and have some pie with us.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and, like a moth to a flame, you are dragged back in, unable to break away from this and what it could be. You place a hand on his chest, nuzzling your cheek against him.
“Besides,” he murmurs as he begins to tenderly fix your hair, wrapping it back up in the neat little bow. “Who’s apple pie is gonna taste as good as yours, hm?” He snakes a hand down to your ass, squeezing it possessively.
And you don’t know when you’ll be able to fuck Nanami again, but you’ll look forward to it for whenever it happens. Any chance to get your hands on this fine ass rancher again, you’ll take it.
Finally, the moment is broken when the kids and Haibara come back inside, sweaty and out of breath from playtime. The kids gape at the sight of you, but luckily it’s just because they aren’t expecting you. Not because you’re standing there buck naked with their father’s spunk all over you.
“Y/N came to deliver us some more pie,” Nanami announces. “You guys want a slice?” The kids quickly answer with yells of excitement as they fight for plates and then run out into the living room.
Haibara’s eyes switch between you and Nanami, knowing something neither of you do. He smiles, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “Good to see you again, Y/N,” he chirps. “Welcome to the family!”
He then takes a plate from the counter and bumps his hip with Nanami on the way out. “Oh, and, Kenny? Your fly is down.”
I'm SICK and TIRED of the Kento Nanami mischaracterization.
(Now playing, "Sweet" - Cigarettes After Sex)
(MDNI! Lots of nsfw/sex talk, Husband!Nanami, fluff, comfort(?), smut, short drabble, Reader is heavily implied fem, pregnancy talk, I suppose? Just soft sex with Nanami.)
Kento Nanami does not fuck.
This man is not coming home after a hard day at work and "fucking the shit out of you." Half the time, he can barely get the dinner you made him in his stomach before he's crashing.
This man is not getting off on being called daddy. Or spanking you while calling you his "good little girl."
Nanami views the idea of coming home to you as the only good thing about leaving in the first place. So when he does come back home to you, he expects softness. Comfort. Not lust.
Nanami isn't a lustful man. This isn't to say he doesn't like sex. He adores it. With the right person, of course. But it's not something he does for his own greed. Kento does not fuck. He makes love.
As cheesy as he knows he'd sound if he ever said it out loud, it's the only descriptive that's ever felt right to him. Nanami doesn't want to grab you by your legs and pin you to the wall and "fuck" you. That sounds aggressive, degrading. As if his spouse, his love, his reason for coming home at all, was something to be used.
Nanami pours all of his love into having sex with you. (Literally and figuratively)
He's not grabbing your chin and spitting into your mouth. He's interlocking your fingers, his lips ghosting over yours as his forehead rests against your own.
He's not saying "look at this pretty fuckin' thing..." while admiring the way your cunt clenches around him. He's saying, "You're so pretty... my angel.." while looking into your teary eyes.
Yes, Nanami is Cumming inside of you. But it's not because he wants to "claim" you or prove he "owns" you. But because he wishes to one day start a family with you. A real family. With the love of his life.
This man isn't rolling over and falling asleep on the opposite side of the bed after sex. Nanami cleans you up as if the touch of water on its own will make you disintegrate like cotton candy. He wraps you up in his big arms, knowing there's not a single place on earth you could be safer. He's kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back as you both fall asleep.
《A/N: stop headcannoning Nanami as some weird lowk abusive freaky BDSM husband 🙏 SUKUNA IS RIGHT THERE.》
Can I req the one bed trope tjingyy with Vergil 🥹 not nsfw or anything but I love that cheesy trope it’s so good I don’t care if it’s overused but uahhhhh yeah thank you I recently found your stuff and I love it
of course you can! i’m a sucker for this trope tooo, so walk with me 🫰🏼
a/n: hints of childhood. softy vergil cuz he’s just that cute. takes place in season 2 for dmc netflix adaptation!
spending multiple hours entertaining a high-energy little girl is a handful, for sure. all you wanted to do now was knock out on a bed, couch, anything with some sort of cushioning.
you don’t even remember if you could manage all that running around when you were little.
luckily for you, lucan had rooms that were prepared for you, vergil, dante, and lady while you stayed overnight to watch over the arcana’s destruction.
the four of you stand in the hallway, about to part off for the night before lady brings up something important.
“wait, there’s four of us. and two bedrooms.”
radio silence.
“… we could split boys and girls.” you suggest after swallowing a pill of dread.
dante’s gaze immediately snaps to you. you glance back. and in all seriousness, the two of you have a full conversation with looks.
because he knows how you feel about his brother. the thing is, you don’t know about how vergil feels about you.
dante’s eyes flicker to vergil, then at you. go with him.
you squint. hell no, are you crazy?
the idiot grins in response. don’t act like you don’t want to.
i’m not having this conversation with you. you glare back at him.
lady notices the weird tension between the two of you, the way you’re looking oddly at one another. “what’s wrong with you two?”
you open your mouth to respond, but dante opens his loud mouth faster.
“i’ll share a room with lady. vergil, you’ll share with her.” he proposes, too giddy for the lovely opportunity chaos he’s caused.
vergil tenses beside you. you can feel it, even if you’re not looking at him. not that you want to. “what?” he questions.
“okay, goodnight!” dante starts to gallop down the hallway before you can get close to sock him in his throat.
you just stare at his shrinking frame in disbelief. lady takes one step, flashing an expression of amusement, before slowly following behind dante.
traitors. both of them.
vergil shifting his weight brings you back to the present, your head shooting up. he’s already looking at you. “are you sure you’re okay with this?” vergil asks.
you don’t answer for a moment. but you nod anyway.
and that’s how you got here.
the two of you walked to your bedroom for the night. vergil’s hand turns the handle, allowing you to step in first. but you stop immediately in your tracks.
there’s one bed.
the heat creeps up ridiculously fast across your neck, moving to your features. “okay, am i hallucinating?” your voice sounds small to your ears.
“what do you mean?” vergil huffs, stepping in after you and seeing the issue. “oh.”
“i can sleep on the floor, really.” you immediately offer, turning to him with your hands in front of you.
his face contorts into something that close to a scowl. “absolutely not. i’m not letting you sleep like that.”
the door clicks behind you. the bed itself isn’t really tiny, looks twin sized, but it won’t fit two people just right.
vergil steps past you towards the bed, lowering himself onto its edge. his hand gently pats the space next to him. “come on. it’ll be okay.”
he grins slightly. “i don’t bite.”
you take a hesitant step towards him, before fully commiting and sitting beside him.
“i don’t remember you being this shy.” he notes. you huff a breath of oxygen in response. “we were kids back then.”
“you were worse than me. always hid behind things.”
“i was scared one of you would blow something into oblivion.”
the room settles into a silence for a moment, but it isn’t suffocating. it’s full, relaxing the nerves that settled into your body.
“y’know, i can sleep on the floor if you want me to.” vergil murmurs, turning his head to meet your gaze. “if you’re uncomfortable, there’s no—“
“stay.” you voice, steady and sure.
vergil’s eyes widen slightly. “you’re sure?”
“haven’t been more sure of anything.”
he holds your eye contact for a moment, before getting up and slowly shrugging his blue coat off, leaving him in the sleeveless top underneath.
your gaze lingers far longer than you would’ve allowed it to, before scooting yourself back onto the bed.
your hands find the covers as you slide yourself under, allowing it to pool at your waist. vergil drapes his coat along a chair before striding to the other side of the bed.
“you can still back out.” vergil mentions, bringing one knee up to join you on the bed. but you shake your head in answer. “‘m fine.”
he turns the bedside lamp off, silently moving under the covers. his body takes up most of its space, and he’s warm. so warm that you can feel it emanating from him.
sharing a bed with your childhood crush. how cute is that?
the silence settles over the room again. your back’s facing him, and his chest is practically pressed against you. you attempt to shut your eyes, but you’re too aware of vergil behind you.
his hand grazes your hip accidentally, but you don’t find yourself moving away. instead, you instinctively lean into it.
vergil seems to notice the motion with the quiet hitch of his breath, and he doesn’t pull away this time. slowly, tentatively, his hand trails to rest on your hip fully.
your back’s fully pressed against his body, yet neither of you say anything. the feel of his touch fills everything that neither of you voiced audibly.
“are you okay with this?” vergil murmurs, voice hushed against your ear. you nod against him. “yeah.”
after another moment, his arm fully drapes around you, gently tugging you closer into his body, his head coming to rest on top of your own.
“goodnight,” vergil whispers, the vibrations warming all the corners of your body.
“g’night, vergil.” you slur back, voice laced with sleep.
the "silent" competition, where each of them tries to impress you, but doesn't admit it.
~tags: toji, sukuna, vergil x reader/black reader, fluff, suggestive, poly, yes this is greedy i know, lowkey bottom toji, 'baby'. @veilist @nctwayv127dream @ejk31 @sherrietynneil @h3avenlyglory
you love your relationship.
being with 3 men who not only love you but also love each other is your favorite thing. but sometimes you notice when they become competitive around you.
it all started in the morning, when vergil woke up early to make you your favorite breakfast.
you're lying in bed, not fully awake or asleep, just resting your eyes. but they flutter open when you feel a soft hand grazing your face. when you open them completely, you're met with his soft eyes.
"good morning, honey. i made you some breakfast," he says quietly, not wanting to wake the other two.
when you both make it to the kitchen, you're taken aback by the beautiful spread. he even got flowers of your favorite color, which really brought the whole thing together.
you jump into his arms. "thank you, vergil!!" you squeal. "but what's the occasion?" you ask cutely, making him pinch your cheek.
"nothing," he says, "just wanted to do this for you."
"yo, what's going on?" toji grumbles, dragging his feet out of the bedroom. sukuna stumbles right behind him. both men look like they just woke up, hair all disheveled as they rub their eyes.
you laugh at them, while vergil rolls his eyes, hoping it would be just you two for a little longer.
vergil puts on that one face (aka the one he has when he's talking to anyone other than you).
"just made her breakfast, that's all," he says like it's obvious.
toji and sukuna look at each other, then at vergil.
"well, you guys can keep staring at each other, i'm gonna eat all this food before it gets cold." you plop down, ready to dig in.
sukuna scoffs at vergil's earlier remark, walking towards the table to give you a kiss on the forehead as you eat your food.
"you didn't tell us you were doing this for her..." toji says, a little annoyed while crossing his arms.
"yeah we could've done this together," kuna adds on, playfully stealing a piece of bacon from your plate.
"well i wanted to do this for her," vergil says, shrugging them off. leaving the two men speechless.
after breakfast, you decide to relax in the living room. you prop your feet up and lie your head back on the sofa.
but that relaxation time is cut short when you suddenly feel two big hands grab you by the waist and plop you down on a lap. you don't even have to look up to see that the lap belongs to toji. he doesn't say anything, just kisses the top of your head and rests his chin on your shoulder.
after an hour or so, you get a text from sukuna.
すくな: hey baby, lemme take you to the mall in a little bit, my treat ;)
and next thing you know, you're coming home with bags and bags. chanel, miu miu, alo, and everything else your heart desired.
"thank you, kuna. you didn't have to do all this for me." you say, cheesing up at him.
"i know, baby, i just wanted to." he hums low. then grabs your waist to pull you closer, peppering kisses all down your neck.
"ugh, please. you kept her away from me almost all day," toji groans, pulling you away from sukuna, making him frown.
"wow, didn't know it was just you here, toji." vergil cuts in from the couch, arm draped behind it.
"whatever! you two have kept her away from me all day, i've hardly spent any time with her." he grumbles, eyes dark.
you reach up to cup his face, watching how his eyes soften slightly.
"what would you like to do for the rest of the day? you have my complete and undivided attention, 'jiji." he smiles at the nickname.
"i have a pretty good idea..." he says with that mischievous glint in his eyes. he leans in and whispers, "i bought something for you, and i think you'll like it. we can use it tonight."
sukuna and vergil perk up at the sudden secretive demeanor.
"uhh, well, whatever it is, can we be included?" vergil asks curiously.
"yeah sure," toji says, the two men look excited.
"you guys can watch," toji chuckles, watching their smiles drop. he takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom. sukuna and vergil quickly follow behind, elbowing each other out of the way.
the "silent" competition, where each of them tries to impress you, but doesn't admit it.
~tags: toji, sukuna, vergil x reader/black reader, fluff, suggestive, poly, yes this is greedy i know, lowkey bottom toji, 'baby'. @veilist @nctwayv127dream @ejk31 @sherrietynneil @h3avenlyglory
you love your relationship.
being with 3 men who not only love you but also love each other is your favorite thing. but sometimes you notice when they become competitive around you.
it all started in the morning, when vergil woke up early to make you your favorite breakfast.
you're lying in bed, not fully awake or asleep, just resting your eyes. but they flutter open when you feel a soft hand grazing your face. when you open them completely, you're met with his soft eyes.
"good morning, honey. i made you some breakfast," he says quietly, not wanting to wake the other two.
when you both make it to the kitchen, you're taken aback by the beautiful spread. he even got flowers of your favorite color, which really brought the whole thing together.
you jump into his arms. "thank you, vergil!!" you squeal. "but what's the occasion?" you ask cutely, making him pinch your cheek.
"nothing," he says, "just wanted to do this for you."
"yo, what's going on?" toji grumbles, dragging his feet out of the bedroom. sukuna stumbles right behind him. both men look like they just woke up, hair all disheveled as they rub their eyes.
you laugh at them, while vergil rolls his eyes, hoping it would be just you two for a little longer.
vergil puts on that one face (aka the one he has when he's talking to anyone other than you).
"just made her breakfast, that's all," he says like it's obvious.
toji and sukuna look at each other, then at vergil.
"well, you guys can keep staring at each other, i'm gonna eat all this food before it gets cold." you plop down, ready to dig in.
sukuna scoffs at vergil's earlier remark, walking towards the table to give you a kiss on the forehead as you eat your food.
"you didn't tell us you were doing this for her..." toji says, a little annoyed while crossing his arms.
"yeah we could've done this together," kuna adds on, playfully stealing a piece of bacon from your plate.
"well i wanted to do this for her," vergil says, shrugging them off. leaving the two men speechless.
after breakfast, you decide to relax in the living room. you prop your feet up and lie your head back on the sofa.
but that relaxation time is cut short when you suddenly feel two big hands grab you by the waist and plop you down on a lap. you don't even have to look up to see that the lap belongs to toji. he doesn't say anything, just kisses the top of your head and rests his chin on your shoulder.
after an hour or so, you get a text from sukuna.
すくな: hey baby, lemme take you to the mall in a little bit, my treat ;)
and next thing you know, you're coming home with bags and bags. chanel, miu miu, alo, and everything else your heart desired.
"thank you, kuna. you didn't have to do all this for me." you say, cheesing up at him.
"i know, baby, i just wanted to." he hums low. then grabs your waist to pull you closer, peppering kisses all down your neck.
"ugh, please. you kept her away from me almost all day," toji groans, pulling you away from sukuna, making him frown.
"wow, didn't know it was just you here, toji." vergil cuts in from the couch, arm draped behind it.
"whatever! you two have kept her away from me all day, i've hardly spent any time with her." he grumbles, eyes dark.
you reach up to cup his face, watching how his eyes soften slightly.
"what would you like to do for the rest of the day? you have my complete and undivided attention, 'jiji." he smiles at the nickname.
"i have a pretty good idea..." he says with that mischievous glint in his eyes. he leans in and whispers, "i bought something for you, and i think you'll like it. we can use it tonight."
sukuna and vergil perk up at the sudden secretive demeanor.
"uhh, well, whatever it is, can we be included?" vergil asks curiously.
"yeah sure," toji says, the two men look excited.
"you guys can watch," toji chuckles, watching their smiles drop. he takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom. sukuna and vergil quickly follow behind, elbowing each other out of the way.
Just thinking about Simon coming home from deployment
(CW: smuttttt! MDNI)
He’s worn to the bone, and all he needs is you and some deep sleep. He’s covered in dirt and questionable fluids, so he doesn’t even look at you as he goes straight to the bathroom. You understand. He needs to be clean, desperately needs to wash off all traces of the Ghost he’d been and slowly ease into his body again. You knew it would take maybe an hour or so before he was sufficiently himself to be able to meet you. And even then, he’d need more.
The instant he was ready, though, he zoomed in on you like he was possessed. It was like his body was on autopilot, unstoppable in its tracks leading to you.
“Love—!” Was the only thing he managed to choke out before his lips and hands were all over you.
His tongue swiped into your mouth; his hands grasped your body nearly close enough to bruise. In his desperation, he’d forgotten everything but trying to convince himself you were still alive, that you were real, that you still loved him and were right there. He planted kisses down your body. He wound up on his knees to kiss your feet. And then, he looked up at you and begged, “Sit on my face, gem.”
Soft, thick thighs wrapped tight around his ears— he pressed them even closer together— and eyes obscured by the full weight of you resting on him, he was finally able to drown out the army. No more loud noises, no more pressure of life or death, no more grime, no more mask. His mind and body were focused only on you, devoted to your satisfaction.
He ate hungrily, savoring the taste of your pussy. You moaned above him. Your fingers dug the headboard till he pried your fingers off and brought them to his hair instead so he could relish the sting of you tugging it in overwhelm of the pleasure he was giving you. He let out a loud groan when you began to grind on him, and he dug his fingers into your ass to encourage you to use him more.
You knew his routine. It took him a while to shed the weight of his job. So you’d definitely be here a while. Then, when you lifted off his face, soaked and trembling, he’d wash you both up. He’d curl up in your arms, face pressed to your bosom. He’d sleep a long, long time. And finally, when he woke up, you’d have all of Simon back.
