⧠a relationship with kuroo is guaranteed to be a good time. nobodyâs going to keep you on your toes as much as this gremlin boy. and once you understand the ways in which he expresses himself, nobodyâs going to make you feel quite as loved and respected, either.Â
⧠listen, kuroo teases the hell out of you. itâs just a facet of his personality, and he loves getting a rise of you you. if possible, he loves using you as an arm rest â seeing you get mad about it has the potential to make his day. heâs also quite the fan of poking your cheeks or your nose. but really, he does all of this because sometimes he just doesnât quite know how to express how fond of you he really is.
⧠but you two?? would have the most interesting conversations. kuroo would love it if you could keep up with his own mind, and heâd always keep you on your toes in that regard. heâs a clever guy, and heâs good at observing the world around him and analyzing it. heâd really flourish with a partner who could indulge that, and who can add their own perspective. start talking about something youâve thought about or noticed, and the boyâs going to be looking at you with total heart eyes. not that heâd admit to that, thoughÂ
⧠furthermore, heâs constantly challenging you â whether it be by teasing you, or having a sincere conversation about where you wanted to go with your life, kuroo wants to see you be your best. he really cares about you, and he wants to see you flourish. how is teasing you supposed to help you become the best version of yourself, you ask?? kuroo just grins, and says that it teaches you to stick up for yourself. tell him that thatâs bullshit, and heâll kiss you as an attempt to distract you. donât let him.Â
⧠all he wants if for you to get along with his boys. sure, he enjoys playing volleyball, but the team is a big component of why he cares so much. and heâd want his partner to fit in quite naturally with them. you donât necessarily need to know all that much about the rules of the sport, but if you can turn up to matches and cheer on each the boys in turn?? heâs going to be grinning like a madman. oh, and if you can get kenma to talk to you?? heâs ready to risk it all (and heâs going to be dragging you to kenmaâs house all the time. kenma just learns to deal with it, so long as youâre not too loudâ)Â
Letâs talk about everyoneâs favourite bad boy: Kuroo Tetsurou.
This nerd.
Nekomaâs captain is such a great character, because he has so many layers to him. Kuroo looks and acts a bit like a trickster god or Kitsune. He is intimidating and crafty. Heâs easily amused. Perpetually smiling that smug smile of his, heâs not only physically and technically strong as a player, he is the âprovocation expertâ: he finds the exact buttons to push to manipulate people.
But since there are no evil or flat characters in Haikyuu!! (no, not even Tendou), of course thereâs so much more to this smug bastard.
1. Kuroo is confidence personified
I think this is what makes him so attractive to fangirls. Out of all the characters in Haikyuu, Kuroo is the one that has the most self confidence and the best grip on his abilities, both on and off the court. A lot of the guys (Oikawa, Bokuto, the entirety of Karasuno) struggle to overcome their limits, while someone like Ushijima is convinced that his strength is a law of nature. Kuroo has evolved past all that. He *knows* he could only block maybe one in ten of Ushiwakaâs spikes, but he doesnât let it dishearten him. Itâs part of the game to him.
He also has a fair grip on how to deal with people in a way thatâs similar to, but more smug than, Daichi. This makes him a good captain: dude is super chill and keeps his team motivated.
2. Heâs a huge dork
You know that speech? âKeep the blood movingâ? Kenma is right about that speech. It is incredibly lame. Kuroo gives zero fucks, because, again, heâs confident that it works. But how much of a dork do you have to be to come up with something like that? Jeesh. Also, do go back up and look at him laugh like an idiot, up there. What a dork. <3
3. He genuinely cares
Kuroo is super cocky, but heâs not a jerk. His relationship with Kenma is a beautiful example. Not only does he stay loyal to his reclusive buddy, but heâs genuinely interested in the things he does. Kuroo is never shown playing video games, but he does observe Kenma and even comes up with strategies for him.
And then, thereâs *that* scene. The one with Tsukki. My favourite Kuroo bit from the manga.
cw:Â alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s
word count:Â 5.3k
a/n:Â in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!
//
"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."
"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"
you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."
"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.
"weird."
because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?
you first met nanami on the second day of college and knew right away he'd be a good dad, even back when having kids wasn't even a consideration for you. it was obvious; he was already a good dad back then, with how he looked out for his underclassmen even as he progressed through his degree. how he stayed sober when he knew people would be going overboard, not sleeping until you texted him to confirm you'd gotten home safe after a party.
he helped you study at the weekends and, in return, you provided him with a discount at the local cafe where you worked. through this time spent knocking back americanos and proofing each other's work, you grew close.
even with all his responsibility and good sense contrasting your exuberance and recklessness, you found yourself enjoying being with him. and he could be funny, too, delivering sharp and witty quips when you least expected it.
you became inseparable. insufferable, some would call it; the matching-halloween-costume type of insufferable, a borderline codependent but obliviously happy friendship that can only be fostered on a college campus.
then right after college, when you had dived straight into your quarter-life crisis and dyed your hair every colour under the sun, got piercings in too many places, slept with questionable people and dated some even worse, nanami had gotten himself a decent, impressive, well-paying job. it was a job that had him wearing tailored suits at 23, paired with fancy glasses that cost more than your rent, and you'd laughed at him, at how serious he looked. but you also worried at how the bags under his eyes grew deeper and darker, how the amused lilt to his voice started to dissipate as time went on.
his 9 to 5 turned to an 8 to 6, and then he was working weekends and skipping movie nights, missing out on meeting new boyfriends of yours, fading into the periphery of your life with you unable to do anything about it.
as with all relationships in your twenties, it was hard to stay in touch. the higher he climbed up the career ladder, the further you grew apart.
soon, it was only on holidays or birthdays when you both would reach out, cordial and civil but achingly unfamiliar.
then, on your twenty-ninth birthday, drunk at a bar and having taken a couple minutes away from your raucous friend group, you had stepped outside to grab some fresh air only to walk head-on into nanami's firm chest.
you had spluttered apologies, lifting your head to see who you had headbutted, only to find your old friend looking down at you with an amused look on his face.
and just like that, things picked up where they left off. you spent the night talking, catching up over drinks and laughter.
with a tone that was only half-teasing, you had asked him what brought him out tonight -- it was hard enough to get him to come out for drinks when you were both in college, much less now with his big fancy job.
but he had laughed in that gentle, airy way you'd heard a thousand times, explaining that he had been out socialising with clients who had just left minutes before. he was just on his way out before running into you.
perfect timing. painfully perfect.
you stayed talking until last call, making exhilarated promises to get in touch the next day.
and to your surprise, you both actually stuck to that.
in the ten months since then, you've met up every sunday for breakfast at your favourite cafe. over lattes and freshly baked croissants, you fill each other in on the details of the half-decade spent apart. he had a serious girlfriend, serious to the point of moving in together, but she'd gotten spooked and left him last summer to go travelling. he was hurt, obviously, but understood her perspective in that annoyingly calm, measured way that is just part of his nature.
and on your end -- despite the drunken circumstances in which you'd been reacquainted, which is all part of moderation, after all -- you've actually calmed down considerably since your early twenties.
you have your own apartment. you have a rescue cat you care for immensely, even when he tries wriggling out of your arms to go stare out the window at passing cyclists. you have a retirement fund, started yoga, learned to bake your own bread.
you're not boring, you still have fun and let off steam whenever you can, but you're having the sort of revelations about life that nanami seems to have had years ago.
fun is good. fun is important. but it can't be everything, because then it starts to come at a cost.
truthfully, the birth of your nephew is what prompted you to make some changes. you didn't want to show up to babysit hungover. you wanted to have funds to hand in order to treat him to little toys and sweets when your sister allowed it, and soon found yourself amazed at how his little face lit up every time he saw you.
it made you grow up, and fast.
in the course of your cafe hangouts, you had mentioned your nephew to nanami. showed pictures of the boy's pudgy little hands reaching for the camera, told stories of how he could tell the difference between new episodes of Bluey versus reruns, and how he's changed your entire life without even realising.
soon, talk about your nephew turned to general musings about your own future.
then one night, when you decided to switch your meetup location from the cafe to a cocktail bar, you shared something that you had barely admitted to yourself.
you wanted to have a kid.
this realisation wasn't borne from some crisis about entering a new decade, it wasn't something forced on you by others or general societal pressure. it was something that grew organically, inspired by the honour of watching your little nephew grow up.
to your surprise, nanami didn't scoff or dismiss you. you figured he'd have rolled his eyes, laughing off your confession since you weren't in a committed relationship.
instead, he expressed similar sentiments, but for slightly different reasons.
"i'm sick of work being my whole life," he had mused quickly, sipping an old fashioned with a funny look in his eye. "it was only when we started hanging out again that i realised how much of my life I've wasted at a place that wouldn't care if i lived or died."
"do i need to be worried about you having the type of rebellious streak the rest of us went through ten years ago?" you asked, smiling and fidgeting with one of your rings without thinking.
he waved off your suggestion with a fond roll of his eyes. "i'm not impulsively quitting or anything, don't worry. just want to take a step back, i suppose, or find something with shorter hours. i just think there's more to life than endless hours slaving behind a desk."
you toasted to that sentiment, knocking back the last of your cosmo.
nanami continued, watching you set your empty glass back down with a soft grin on his lips. "the whole family, kids thing ... i get it, you know? it makes sense."
"yeah?" you pried carefully, interested to see where this is going.
"i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it, too. i have a nest egg saved up which means i'd be able to take time off to help with a kid, to actually be there to see them grow up. and it's not that i want to have one just because i think i need to -- i think i'd be decent at it, y'know? the whole parenting thing."
you obviously agreed. you'd thought the same for a while now, and getting reacquainted with the man has only spurred on those thoughts.
he really would be perfect.
the issue wasn't discussed further that night, but it was brought up again at coffee the following sunday, then at the bakery the week after that, and before long, it was your birthday again.
after a massive party with all your friends and family -- and a little too much wine -- nanami had stayed behind to help you clean up, because of course he would, and you got to talking again, got to revisiting that topic that had been at the back of both of your minds.
you can't remember the exact wording of the discussion or how many bottles of prosecco fuelled the conversation, but what you do know is that when you sobered up, you didn't regret agreeing to it.
you were gonna have a kid together.
you and nanami.
coparenting.
as outlandish an idea as it might seme on the surface, when looking at it a little deeper, it made sense to you. this wasn't decided on a whim. this was something that had momentum building behind it for months and months, perhaps even years, without you even realising.
when meeting up for coffee the following week, you both gave each other an out. said there'd be no big deal if things were called off. but neither one of you took it, despite laughing for what felt like hours about how bizarre it all felt.
still, no sign of backing out.
which brings you to tonight, the agreed-upon date of when you'd start trying.
nanami had suggested using artificial fertility methods if that made you more comfortable, but you politely turned him down, thinking it unnecessary. he wasn't a stranger -- plus, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't objectively attractive -- so if he had no objections to trying things the old-fashioned way, then you didn't either.
and he obviously didn't mind too much since he's now here on your couch, folding his arms and then unfolding them as he waited for you to make the first move.
he looks good, despite all the nerves. he's filled out over the years, though he was always strong, with every muscle in his body well-defined and perfectly proportional. his hair is still blond but with the faintest specks of grey, his skin brighter and more well-rested than that night you got reacquainted.
his deep brown eyes stay fixed on you and your skin heats as his gaze traces over you.
"do you want me to kiss you?" you break the silence, the words tumble messily from your mouth.
he looks taken aback, as if this was something he'd vaguely considered but never thought would actually happen.
"do ... do you want to?"
his earnestness has you smiling, cutting through the tension, and you meet his eyes properly for the first time since he arrived tonight. he always has this way of making you feel comfortable, his presence alone is like an embrace that calms the racing thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.
it's only now that you're close, so close, you realise that maybe you really do want to --
"i wouldn't suggest it otherwise," you murmur softly as if your heart isn't hammering against your ribcage, shifting nearer to him on the couch but keeping that last bridge of distance for him to close.
his tongue swipes over his lower lip, almost subconsciously demonstrating his wishes as his line of sight drifts down to your mouth. he nods then, dipping his head, only a couple inches of space between you now.
"yeah -- yeah, okay."
you can see how his pupils dilate as you reach out to slip his glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, cupping his face in your hands.
he returns your smile at that gesture, just the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes that disappear when he finally decides to press your lips to yours.
his lips are softer than you imagined ... though until this very moment, you hadn't even realised that this was something you had imagined.
he lets you set the rhythm but doesn't shy away; he meets your movements, your energy at every kiss, letting you stop for a moment to adjust yourself as things progress.
this should feel weird, right? you should have some lingering feeling of awkwardness at making out with your best friend, at taking his hand in yours and setting it down on your thigh to show you want him to touch you?
this was supposed to be a relatively unromantic event, after all. it wasn't meant to be the start of anything. though it was never clinical or unemotional -- you're technically starting a family together, after all, if an entirely unconventional one -- you never foresaw it going down like this.
this feels like something that was meant to happen.
he pulls back ever-so-slightly, lips still grazing against yours as he asks softly, "this okay?"
you nod by way of answer, not wanting to waste another second not kissing him. nanami captures your lips with his again, and with renewed enthusiasm, slips his tongue into your mouth, probing gently and barely hiding the low rumble of a groan deep in his throat.
all thoughts of propriety start to fade into the ether. his hand on your thigh burns hot, shifting up and down the exposed skin. you'd worn a nice dress for the evening, unsure of the dress code for an event as strange as this, but you find yourself grateful for choosing something that fell so far above the knee.
his hands are rougher than his lips but not in an unpleasant way. you figure it's from his only out-of-work hobby that doesn't consist of hanging out with you; his renovation group. nanami is part of a volunteer organisation that helps build and renovate houses for those in need -- as if he couldn't get any more painfully perfect, obviously.
you stay like that for a few more minutes, exploring these new sensations and becoming increasingly more aware of the ball of anticipation burning in your lower stomach. everywhere he touches you feels warm, every soft nip against your lips feels electric.
then, against every instinct in your body, you force yourself to pause to take a few steadying breaths. nanami responds in the same way, pulling his hands back to his own thighs, adjusting his stance on the couch.
he's hard, you can see as much from the awkward way he shuffles in his seat. not to mention the bulge very obviously visible in the front of his slacks -- just seeing it fills you with want, with the need to touch and be touched.
this is moving more fluidly than you had expected, arriving at each decision without a second thought. in that vein, you decide to ask:
"want to head to the bedroom?", hoping you don't sound as desperate as you're feeling. "if you're ready -"
"yes," he responds before you've even finished your sentence. you feel grateful that the eagerness is not one-sided as you get to your feet, taking nanami by the hand to pull him up with you.
when you've reached your room and the door is shut behind you, revealing the modest set up of your freshly-made bed and a single scented candle -- any more than that felt a little too forced, too awkward -- you marvel at the feeling of nanami's hands on your hips, somehow gentle and firm at the same time, manoeuvring you onto the bed with a pre-rehearsed confidence that never verges on forceful.
your head hasn't even hit the pillow before he's kissing you again like he's starving for it. it's messy this time, the gentle exploration from before giving way to something more primal and urgent.
you have to remind yourself that this is your nanami you're kissing. the nanami who was there for you through the most painful college breakups. the nanami who knows your coffee order, who helped zip up the back of your graduation dress.
but now, with his tongue against yours and the stiffness pressing against your stomach, all you can think is why you didn't do this sooner?
just as you're about to combust underneath him, he pulls back, balancing himself on an elbow as his eyes flick down to see how your dress is bunched at the top of your thighs. he closes his eyes, his breaths ragged and unsteady.
"i don't know how--" he whispers, tongue gliding over his kiss-slick lips, "how ... technical you might want to go about this."
you let out a little laugh, craning your neck to kiss his jawline so he knows it's not at his expense.
"i never really thought about the technicalities, but it doesn't have to be too clinical, or anything. i know you, you know me. we can just ... have sex."
"have sex," he repeats slowly, eyes open again, the hint of a grin on his face.
"yeah, have sex!" you answer with a chuckle. "or is there another way you'd like me to phrase it?"
he laughs then too, looking at you again as he shakes his head softly.
"what?" you press him with a mock indignance. "it's rude to laugh at my suggestion, actually. i felt it was pretty accurate."
"i'm not laughing at you," he says gently, lips still curved upwards. "just ... i must have pictured you saying those words a thousand times, and i never thought it -- it's just funny to hear out loud, is all."
it takes you a second to fully comprehend the words as they wash over you.
you'd be ignorant to say that the realisation never dawned on you, but it was something you thought was a relic of your college years. he had blushed a few times too many whenever the topic of sex came up at parties, had a hint of jealousy in his voice when giving advice about one particular ex-boyfriend. at your apartment complex's winter party in senior year, you can tell he was thinking about kissing you.
but that was when you were young and naive, inexperienced with life, and the thought of this nanami desiring you, of picturing you in his life, of imagining what you'd look like spread out underneath him like this --
you lift your head and grab his shirt collar, yanking him in for another kiss. when he's settled back against you, your hands weave down to unbutton his shirt. you feel him smile against your lips as he starts to unzip your dress in return.
you're a mess of limbs as items of clothing get strewn across your bedroom carpet. before long, it's all skin-on-skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours before he grabs your waist and flips you over until you're straddling him.
you feel the length of him pressed against your stomach, hot and painfully hard, but from the way he cups his hand against your neck and starts to kiss your throat, you know he's not going to rush this.
just as you gasp out his name as his teeth nip against your pulse point, he brings his other hand to the apex of your thighs, fingertips resting just over your pubic bone, barely brushing against the sensitive skin.
"want me to touch you?" he mumbles quietly against your throat, the way his breath fans over you making you shiver.
you nod pitifully, hips canting towards him, but he doesn't budge.
"need you to say it," he says low, quiet, thumb shifting down by the millimetre, "need to know how much you want it."
"i want it," you gasp, the arch of your back deepening the closer he gets to your aching core, all concerns about appearing desperate evaporating with every press of his lips to your skin. "i want it, kento, p- please touch me."
nanami obliges, fingertips trailing down until his thumb is brushing over your clit. he slides his hand lower, fingers slipping through your damp lips, and then uses your own wetness to start rubbing you in earnest.
any form of articulate thought slips from your mind, replaced with only those that can get you more of this -- nanami's fingers playing with your clit, the other hand possessively resting at your nape, his cock pressed between you with precum beading at the tip.
you want it in your mouth. you want it inside you, and as you go to shift your hips, nanami shifts his back.
"want to see what you look like when you come first," he says, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as if to prove he's going about it the right way.
and he really is, because after only a few strokes of his fingers, your vision is getting hazy. you've never been this turned on so quickly before, never felt this desperate, all-consuming urge -- but then again, you've never had a man look at you like this before now either.
you try to focus on the sensation of his fingers stretching you open, his thumb still stroking your clit in the perfect rhythm, but your mind wanders to the thick cock pressed up against you. you want to rub against him, let him fill you up, make him feel good too --
but looking at his face now, pupils blown and lower lip raw from biting down on it, you can tell this is as much for him as it is for you.
less than a minute later it hits you, the explosion of warmth radiates out to every cell in your body, rendering you a boneless mess in nanami's arms.
he holds you as the aftershock subsides, strong arms keeping you steady even when your legs feel as though they've turned to jelly. when you feel capable of supporting yourself, you slide ungracefully from where you were perched on his thighs and fall back against your pillows, head spinning blissfully.
nanami leans down next to you and kisses your forehead, whispering words of praise that fill you with a strange sensation you can't quite place.
"want to take a break?" he ask after a few moments have passed, "or if you're tired, we can try again later --"
"no," you cut him off, turning your head to look at him directly, face splitting into a smile through the post-orgasm haze. "i just need a second is all, i still -- if you want to --"
"i do."
and so to ease yourself back into it, you kiss him slowly, intimately, bodies gently intertwining as he shifts closer to you on the bed. you guide his hands to your chest, gasping as his thumb circles a nipple.
"you're just ... beautiful in a way i don't really have words for," he mumbles, watching you squirm pleasurably under him.
"nanami kento lost for words? a first time for everything," you manage to quip through it all, earning a pinch of the other nipple that turns your laugh into a moan.
"we've plenty more firsts to get through tonight."
at that, nanami shifts halfway down the mattress and gets to his knees, hands gripping your thighs as he spreads them open. he takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags the head through your folds, up and down but not yet penetrating you, appreciating how you're almost sucking him in, the eager way you pull back your legs to accommodate him.
he stays like that for a minute. every time you think he's about to sink in, he holds himself back as if transfixed by the obscene sounds that come from playing with your pussy, of using you to stroke himself off.
he looks to be on the verge of a choice, like his brain is fighting between two options: taking you slow and gentle like you deserve, or sinking in and fucked into you desperately, filling you up until he knows he's bred you, that you're his and only his.
you soon glean that he wants you to actually say it out loud, wants to hear those words he's fantasised about for so long.
"fuck me, kento."
now utterly unable to hold off any longer, he heeds your request, lining up and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.
it's a pleasant stretch; he's still careful to let you adjust to his size but you're soon relishing the feeling of being so full, and the fucked-out grin on your face spurs him on.
his hips shift back inch by inch until he's almost fully pulled out, letting out a low groan as he sinks back in again, and at that, he knows he's a goner, completely lost to the feeling of his entire length buried inside you.
this is nanami at his most possessive, fucking into you as you're caged in by his strong arms, your knees now pulled back as far as they'll go. the skin on the back of your thighs is raw from your nails digging into them but you don't care, single-minded in your aim to keep the head of his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you.
your shoulder blades press into your soft pillows as you try to keep from writhing too much, wanting with all of your might to avoid upsetting this perfect rhythm.
above you, nanami's perfect cheekbones are flushed, his brows knit tightly together, your silky walls wrapping tight around his cock in a way that's driving him to the brink sooner than he'd like. against all better judgment, he slows down just slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the sensation.
"you take my cock so well, y'know that?" he mumbles in between quiet grunts, "with that pretty look on your face when i fill you up... you're trying to kill me, i swear to god."
you both laugh breathlessly before yours breaks off in a moan, slurring his name as he speeds up subconsciously. he presses his lips to every inch of your neck, jaw, collarbone, thrusts unrelenting but never too much.
if you weren't already aware of how soaked you are, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you provide more than enough proof, melding with the soft squeak of your bedsprings to just about cut through the muffled sound of your moans.
your body now guided more by instinct than intention, you slip your hand down to where your hips are pressed together, two fingers circling the swollen bud of your clit. the angle of his ruts means his cock grazes your fingertips as he pulls out, the desperate rubbing of your hand between your legs spurring him on.
"still want me to come inside you?" he says then, strands of hair coming loose, sticking to his forehead, "want me to fill you up?"
you nod feebly -- the answer clearly not sufficient in itself, since he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours as he meets you for a wet, messy kiss. continuing his question with his lips still touching yours, he asks;
"want me to take care of you? want to be my pretty wife, hm, wanna -- fuck -- wanna be mine, yeah?"
you slur something unintelligible, focusing on the second orgasm gathering quick and hot in your core. you lose your grip on your thighs and fumble to pull your legs back up.
nanami helps to hike your legs back up -- but not in their original position. instead, he guides them until your ankles rest on his shoulders, and after taking just a second to press a kiss to your calf, he sinks back to the hilt. feeling him bottom out, your vision nearly goes white; this new angle allows him to slide in so deep it's practically splitting you open, so deep you can tell he's serious about breeding you.
somehow, the sensation remains just shy of too much -- it's not too much of a stretch or causing too much sensitivity -- it's more than you've ever taken but you honestly feel you could stay like this forever, taking nanami's cock like you were made for it, with him looking down at you with a mixture of reverence and pure lust.
you want him like this for the rest of your life.
"i'm gonna need you to answer, cos I'm pretty close," he half-pleads as if reading your mind, his voice deep and strained, firm chest heaving as the thrusts get messier and less coordinated.
though your mind is near-blank and your lungs feel they can't get enough air, you manage to mumble a "fuck, yes. want -- want you to come inside, kento ... please."
that last word tips him over with you following almost immediately after, clenching around his cock as you feel him pulsing inside you, feeling more full than you've ever felt in your life. his head tips back as he cums, moaning beautiful praise you can just about make out, strands of sentences about you being the only one he wants taking his come, about how he's going to keep fucking you full for as long as it takes.
sparks of electricity reverberate through your body, hips pushing against his as you ride out your orgasm, pretty little whimpers harmonising with nanami's continued praise.
you stay like that for what seems like forever, basking in the wave of pleasure that's just swept you away effortlessly.
everything is just ... warm. purely and blissfully warm. the warmth of his hands still gripping your legs, the warmth of your own breath fanning over your sweaty chest, the warmth between your legs that starts to dribble down the backs of your thighs when nanami pulls out.
for good measure, nanami uses two fingers to push some of his come back inside, grinning as aftershocks pulse around the digits.
you lower your tired legs to rest on the mattress, thighs aching from being bent practically in half, but it's easy to disregard any physical exhaustion when you feel this level of contentment.
nanami's arms are soon wrapped around you, pulling you to rest on top of his chest where you spend some moments of perfect silence.
you can hear his heart beating in his chest, skipping a beat when you angle your head up to meet his gaze again.
"well?" you ask, a smile imbued in your words. "still lost for words?"
"just thinking about how every second of this was worth waiting for," he replies without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches how his answer flusters you.
with one hand behind his head as he rests of the pillow and the other wrapped around your shoulders, nanami looks more relaxed than you've maybe ever seen him.
this is a man who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown when you reconnected less than a year ago; he's almost unrecognisable now, the dark circles under his eyes have faded, his face filling out a bit more, the smile on his face entirely genuine.
and in this moment you feel a burst of clarity, a sudden realisation that's eluded you since that first night you met in college.
maybe -- just maybe -- you're as good an influence on him as he is on you.
Nanami who pushes all his weight on you when he fucks. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat forming on his face, and his warm skin slapping against yours creating immense pleasure between the two of you. Kissing you sloppily because he doesnât care, all he needs right now is to feel the love of his life. Bare bodies pressed together, as his cock works diligently into you. Enthralled by your beauty and the faces of pleasure you make, he continues staring at you, madly in love. The peak of lust arriving soon, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses into the sensitive area. He finishes inside making sure not to waste a single drop as he has one goal: to see you round with his child.Â
What do you think Nanami Kento would look like in real life? Have you seen any actor or celebrity that looks similar? Personally, I feel that no one matches the perfection of Mr. Nanami, but I'm curious.
Have a nice day.
I'll be honest, there are a few I could go for. I've thought about this a lot. I do have a final answer for you, but hear me out on the journey...
...while Nanami Kento is only 1/4 Danish, and would ostensibly "look Japanese", a certain Japanese belief that mixed-ethnicity Japanese individuals 'don't look Japanese' does, I believe, trickle down into the way Mangaka draw their characters. As such, Gege has drawn Nanami as very European, arguably. He looks more Danish than Japanese.
So, I'm going to use this as a basis for my choice of actor. While I think a younger Mads Mikkelsen is closer to the facial structure, those sharp Nordic high cheekbones, for overall look...
who would have thought that kento nanami was a virgin? not you. not after this long. perhaps he was saving himself for someone. perhaps he was waiting for you.
tags: nsfw. 18+. fem!reader. afab reader. penetrative sex. alcohol. dry humping. virgin!nanami. mutual pining. friends to lovers. creampie (wrap it kids). unprotected sex. touch-starved!nanami. canon!verse. you've known nanami since school. tinges of angst. nanami wanted you bad lmao. it's love babey. reader has experience. no use of y/n or any other placeholders. ever.
wc: 7.7k.
a/n: i kind of fear nanami's a little ooc here lmao, but i've spent too long on this so fuck it we ball he deserves this
also how mad would you be if i said this was set a week before shibuya arc be honest
mdni.
Youâre a bottle and half of zinfandel deep when Nanami tells you.Â
Although youâre both a little warm, tipsy perhaps, you didnât think either of you were quite drunk enough for this conversation just yet. It was a regular occurrence for the two of you to share a drink on a Friday, or a bottle in more pressing times.Â
There were more bottles than glasses, lately.Â
It was just two old friends, catching up. Talking. Complaining--usually about Satoru. Often youâd reminisce on easier times. Warm summers in the Jujutsu High courtyard, the cold tin of a soda in your hands, a bottle of water in his. Quiet talks of dreams and eventualities. Ignoring the gaping absence of a third at between you.Â
Tonight though, youâre not sure when the topic had changed. Somewhere between the last dregs of the first bottle and the beginning of the second, the conversation had grown more sombre than usual. Talk of love and relationships always seemed to make the air heavier around the two of you, for different reasons. A stark air of loneliness that not even the most tart of white wine could overpower.
You had offhandedly mentioned turning down one of the windows you had met on your last mission. He had been younger than you, still full of life where the holes in yourself had long since emptied it out. You had shaken your head, flattered, but tired. There were better options for a man like him, still full of hope and vitality, a whole life ahead of him⊠when you knew any day yours could be cut deftly short.Â
You had told yourself it had little to do with the fact that the manâs bright smile had reminded you of another, so many years ago. Â
In the quiet of Nanamiâs living room, swirling the last drops of your wine in your glass, you had mentioned that you had no real desire for relationships anymore. Other than sex, of course, but only sexual. A temporary release, one of the few you had left. Nameless faces and hurried touches. Sometimes clinical, sometimes primal. Always quick, and never the same person twice.Â
You know?
To which Nanami had replied, âNo.âÂ
Misunderstanding the gravity of what he was saying, you had raised an eyebrow, a curious smile playing at your lips. âNot one for one-night stands?âÂ
It occurs to you distantly that you donât know a lot about Nanamiâs romantic life. Close as you two were, or so you liked to believe, he had never really mentioned it. And you had never asked.Â
Nanami had shook his head in response to your question, and you had nodded. It aligned with his character, you thought. As cold and stoic as he liked to act, you couldnât imagine a world where he would use and discard someone. He felt too much, cared too much. He would love too much too, if given the chance. If he gave himself the chance.Â
In your musings, you had almost missed what he had murmured next.Â
âIâve never had sex at all.âÂ
Kento Nanami. A virgin.
The confession has your lips parting, your eyes blinking. Once, then twice, akin to an owl. You glance down at your wine glass for a moment, as if it had been the slightly smeared glass that had been speaking to you instead, and not the esteemed stoic sorcerer you had known for the better part of ten years.Â
You look over at Nanami on the couch, but heâs staring at the carpet, his expression contemplative, almost pensive. His brows are drawn taut, a small knit on his forehead. His lips are drawn into a thin line, a slight crease in his chin. There was a specific emotion dancing in his eyes. You almost dared to use the word vulnerable.
It seems⊠ridiculous. Nanami? Attractive as he was? Kind, considerate, hard-working, to a degree. A womanâs dream. In another life, perhaps your dream too.
Had it not been for Nanamiâs serious demeanour, and the fact that âjokeâ and âNanamiâ rarely went together in the same sentence, you might have thought he was pulling your leg. A joke between friends.Â
But he wasnât. He very clearly wasnât.Â
âThatâs⊠fine,â you finally say after a small moment, fearing you had let the silence linger too long. âThereâs no rush for these things.âÂ
Nanamiâs hum is short and clipped. Gruff, almost. He still refuses to meet your eye for now, and you make no move to change that. You get the distinct feeling that this newfound vulnerability doesnât stem from him never having sex, but rather, the reason why heâs denied himself - because you know for a fact it has little to do with opportunity.Â
You had lost track of how many women you had watched Nanami turn down, clipped and short, yet always polite.Â
The silence is heavy between you. In the other room, you can hear the hum of his refrigerator, the buzz of the bulbs in the lights. Nanamiâs apartment has always been quiet, but this silence feels suffocating. Paired with the wine, your head feels thick, your tongue thicker.Â
A few moments pass, and as the revelation of his virginity settles into your stomach like seltzer water, you realise⊠it makes sense. Nanami wasnât the type to use someone for sex, even if eager. Heâd only have sex with someone he was in love with. Someone he trusted at the very least.Â
And Nanami, as he had told you and a few others before, refused to entertain the thought of love whilst he was a sorcerer. No one with two working brain cells needed to ask why. He wasnât alone in that choice, either.Â
You toy with the stem of your wineglass whilst you toy with a reoccurring thought in your mind, one that you entertained often, but had yet to voice aloud.Â
âYou shouldnât keep depriving yourself, Kento,â you say quietly. The use of his first name, rarely used in your adulthood, garners you a glance from him. Itâs a small sign that youâre taking this seriously.Â
âIâm not deprived of anything.âÂ
You scoff at that, small and quiet. âYou deprive yourself of a lot, apart from pain,â you drawl, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table. Like always, the wine and Nanamiâs masochistic tendencies have your tongue loosening more than it should. âI understand not wanting to have sex with anyone youâre not in a committed relationship with. Itâs kind of⊠admirable, and definitely you.â You fold your arms across your chest, fixing him with a stare that he still refuses to meet head-on. âBut why deny yourself the chance of love?âÂ
In the back of your mind somewhere is a voice chanting âhypocriteâ, but you ignore it. Nanami, however, does not.Â
He finally turns his head to face you, the lines underneath his eyes seemingly heavier in the dim light of his apartment. An eyebrow arches. âAnd meaningless sex is different?â
You scoff again, louder this time. âItâs not meaningless just because I donât love my partner.âÂ
âOr even know their name?âÂ
You raise a sharp eyebrow, your own lips now pressing into a thin line. A part of you wants to retort, to snap, but you remember the vulnerability in his face from a few moments ago, and you just about hold your tongue.
With an exhale, you grab the half-empty wine bottle off of the coffee table instead and gesture for Nanami to hold out his glass. He does, and the glug of the wine fills the space between you.
âYou ever thought about it?â You ask, filling up your own glass. In your peripheral, you see him sit quietly for a moment before he nods his head.Â
âIâm only human.âÂ
You hum. âYou should experience it,â you add. You swirl the wine in your glass once before bringing it up to your lips. âEven once. Even if it means nothing.â Â
With one glance, you can tell immediately that the idea doesnât sit right with him. It was easy to forget sometimes how rigid and traditional he could be. Formalities that few seemed to care about these days. Always on the things you least expected.Â
âI couldnât,â Nanami replies, shaking his head.Â
Oddly, you feel the desire to insist. Days of a sorcerer were short, and getting shorter every year. Younger than yourself and Nanami had already died long before they would ever have the opportunity to touch another, kiss another; to feel the warmth of a body against your own. They would never know what that distinct pleasure was like, even if they desperately wanted to. Time was infinite to the young, until it wasnât. Â
It occurs to you quickly that youâre thinking of Haibara, and everything you and Nanami had experienced that he never would.Â
Something must show in your expression because Nanami raises an eyebrow at you. You swallow, before setting your glass back down on the coffee table with a dull clink. You look at him, your face surprisingly collected and casual for what youâre about to ask.Â
âWhat about me?âÂ
Nanamiâs questioning look only deepens for a moment, before something passes by his eyes. His lips part, his version of a falter. You know he knows what youâre implying, but still, he asks, ââŠwhat about you?âÂ
âWhat if we had sex?â You say without hesitation. âYou know me. You trust me.âÂ
Nanami falters further. He straightens in his seat, his glass resting on his thigh, the thick muscle straining against his slacks. His whole body is thick with a tension you usually only see before a fight with a particularly highly graded curse. A vein protrudes from his neck.
His eyes flick between your face and your own glass, clearly wondering if it is time to call this night done, but you rise from your seat before he can, taking a small step toward the couch heâs sitting on.Â
You sit down next to him, a little closer than you usually might. He doesnât move away. Your thigh brushes against his, and this close, you can hear his breath hitch in response.Â
âIâm not going to push this any further, Kento,â you say quietly, âbut Iâm letting you know itâs an option.âÂ
Although you and Kento were hardly affectionate with one another like most friends, you decided to take a chance tonight. You had already taken several, what was one more?
Reaching out, you take his glass from his hand and set it next to yours on the coffee table. Hesitating only a moment, you place your hand on top of his, your fingers curling around until your fingertips touch his palm.
His hand is stiff and warm underneath your own. The bones and knuckles press against your skin.
Something in the back of your mind is wondering why youâre pushing this at all. Would it matter if Nanami died without experiencing the pleasures of the body, really? Would the world stop turning for either of you? You know if Nanami really wanted to, if he felt the want, the desire - then he could leave this apartment right now and find someone willing, someone other than you. He could have done so years ago, during those few years he had masqueraded as a normal human being with a nine-to-five.Â
You were risking a friendship over⊠what? The implied hopes and dreams of a dead fifteen-year-old? Haibara was dead. It didnât matter to him whether Nanami experienced the things he never could.Â
Nanamiâs gaze flickers between your eyes for a moment, and this close, you can see the faint traces of the wine staining his lips. Your gaze must linger for a touch too long because his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. The pink skin glistens with the faint glimmer of his saliva.
When you look up, you see his eyes trained on your own lips, before they quickly flick back up to meet your eyes.Â
âWeâre friends,â he murmurs, his voice low, slightly thick.Â
âAnd we always will be,â you reply.
He glances down at your hands. Somewhere between your own thoughts and Nanamiâs reiteration of your friendship, your hands had interlocked, fingers intertwined like vines. He was gripping your hand a little too tightly to be comfortable, but you didnât flinch.Â
Youâre not sure whether it had been your subconscious doing, or his.Â
âI⊠canât,â Nanami mutters finally, closing his eyes for a moment. âNot like this. Not⊠now.âÂ
Something clenches in your heart at his rejection, although you had expected it. Youâre not sure if itâs because heâs denying you, or himself.Â
You smile softly nonetheless and nod. âIf you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,â you say quietly, going to pull your hand from his grip and give him some space.Â
Only he doesnât let go. If anything, his grip tightens slightly.Â
Your eyes flick between his hand and his eyes, still trained on your face. You raise an eyebrow, your lips parting to speak, but he beats you to it.Â
âBut Iâd like to kiss you.âÂ
Something resembling a very quiet âuhâ pushes past your lips in a long exhale.
Youâre not sure why the idea of kissing him felt more⊠intimate than the fact that you had offered your body to him only seconds prior. Youâre not sure why thereâs a prickle of heat at the back of your neck or your lips burn with a sudden need.
âNanam-â
As if remembering himself, he shakes his head slightly, blinking away whatever stupor had just possessed him. He looks away, his grip on your hand loosening, but not quite pulling away.Â
âI⊠donât know why I said that,â he mumbles. âYou should go-â
Your free hand is already gripping his chin, turning his face toward yours a little too sharply. A subtle grunt leaves his throat as he looks at you, his gaze foggier than usual. From the wine, you, or the whole situation? Who knows.Â
Fingers against his neck, feeling the quickened thrum of his pulse, your thumb brushes against his chin, pulling the skin until his lips naturally part. You feel Nanamiâs shaky exhale against your lips as you lean forward, warmth breath mingling with yours, the scent of wine heavy on the air.Â
You close the distance slowly, giving him time to stop this, to pull or push away. To draw an end to this nonsense before it went any further.Â
Instead of pulling back or pushing you away, he closes the gap so quickly your noses almost bump together.Â
The first press of his lips against you feels hurried and unsure. Itâs off-center slightly, barely hitting the corner of your mouth, but Nanami is quick to correct it. He slots his lips against yours more firmly the second time, his lips parting to capture yours fully. You feel a rush of air against your cheek as he exhales through his nose.Â
The kiss is unhurried, curious almost, yet thereâs a subtle urgency in it that surprises you. Your free hand moves from his chin to his jaw, fingertips softly caressing the sharp curve of it. The sound and feel of his sigh against your lips makes you shiver, and you become enamoured with it.Â
Enamoured with him.
You part your lips further, your tongue swiping against his bottom lip, finally tasting the remnants of the wine that you had spotted earlier. An odd sound builds at the back of his throat before his mouth parts too, his tongue brushing against yours.Â
Something changes quickly then. His hand, larger than you ever really noticed, cups the back of your neck, his calloused thumb pressing against your jaw, drawing you closer. Your other hands, still intertwined, seem to tighten around one another like a snake's coils. The wet smacks of your lips grow louder in the quiet of his apartment, just about overriding the sound of increasingly ragged breaths, borderline panting.Â
Your head feels thick. Dizzy. The kiss is indulgent, almost sloppy now. Nanamiâs tongue is in your mouth, exploring every crevice, tasting you with an eagerness you hadnât thought he was capable of. Every time you brush your tongue against his, your taste buds wetly sliding against his own, a small sound rumbles in the back of his throat, somewhere between a groan and grumble.Â
After a moment that feels like an eternity too short, you pull back slightly, just enough to see his eyes as you open yours. Nanami denies you this, however, because when you open your eyes, his are still closed, almost scrunched. A faint frown tugs at his brow.Â
He leans forward until his forehead rests against yours. The heat of his skin against yours feels searing, your noses softly brushing against one anotherâs. He sighs deeply, as if pulled from the back of his chest. It almost sounds like defeat.Â
âKento-â
âI want you,â he breathes out, and your voice almost hitches as you feel rather than hear his voice. Itâs a deep, husky sound, more rumble than syllable. But thereâs a crack in his tone belying a raw vulnerability that you werenât familiar with. Not from him.
His eyes finally open, looking up at you from underneath his brow. His hazel eyes are almost black, you realise, the familiar colour youâve always admired swallowed up by a sea of coal. You wonder if yours are the same.Â
Heâs trembling too. You can feel his fingertips shake where they press against the nape of your neck.Â
âI thought you didnât want⊠this,â you murmur. âSexâ suddenly feels tooâŠ
âI changed my mind,â he replies, a touch too quickly for you to believe that he was thinking clearly.Â
But God, did you want him too. You want him so fucking bad it almost makes you ache. Your feelings toward Nanami had always been friendly, respectful. He had been your closest friend, your ally, your confidant. You had been through so much together. You liked him, every part.Â
And somewhere along the way, between the four years apart as he pursued a different life and the first time you had hugged him when he finally returned, Gojo grinning over his shoulder⊠you think, that like had changed to love.
It quickly occurs to you that you werenât pushing Nanami to experience sex for fear of him missing out. That was you. You were scared of missing out on him.
Itâs that revelation that makes you pull back slightly, and Nanamiâs eyes widen a little, some of the hazy fog clearing. His hand slides from the back of your neck, falling limply against the couch next to your thigh.Â
âI⊠I shouldnât have put you in this position,â you mutter, glancing away, staring at the two wine glasses on the coffee table before looking back at him. âItâs your choice. Your first time should be on your terms, not because I think youâre missing out or depriving yourself.â
You go to remove your hand from his, but once again, his grip tightens, but thereâs a tenderness to it this time. A gentle squeeze, almost begging you not to go. Not yet.Â
He looks serious now, staring at you squarely, as if about to deliver a mission report, and its the first familiar expression youâve seen on his face thus far. He swallows thickly, the only thing belying his hesitation.Â
âI said I couldnât have a one-night stand.âÂ
You frown. âAnd th-â
âI donât want this to be a one-night stand.âÂ
Some of the breath flees your lungs as you look at him. His lips are still pink and slightly swollen from kissing, his cheeks still slightly flushed from the wine and your touch. You become distinctly aware of the scent of his cologne, faded but warm from his skin. Itâs soft, smoky almost. You have the urge to bury his nose in the crook of his neck and breathe.
You know what heâs trying to say, what heâs trying to ask. You know what he wants because you want it too. You realise youâve wanted it for a long damn time.Â
Words fail you. They feel⊠inadequate to describe what youâre feeling, what you desire, what youâve always desired buried down underneath the guilt and trauma.Â
But you still canât bring yourself to say it out loud. Not here. Not yet.Â
And neither can he.
Youâre not sure who makes the first move, all you know is that your lips are pressed against his and he moans into your mouth as if something had finally let go. Itâs like a cork had finally been released, a lifetime of pent-up feelings pouring out in one gush.Â
His hand is back at the nape of your neck, holding you tightly this time, unwilling to let go. His lips part more readily with every press, his tongue seeking yours with a pinpoint determination. You skip his jaw this time altogether, aiming straight for his hair that youâve been dying to touch since⊠you donât know when.Â
The hand that had been holding yours hostage finally releases, only so his fingers can brush against your waist. His fingers brush against your ribs through your clothes, tugging you closer until youâre rising up onto your knees on the couch just to oblige. Heâs tilting back, his broad shoulders bumping against the couch cushions behind him - and itâs only distantly you register itâs because youâre pushing him back against it.Â
Something shouts at you in the back of your mind to take your time, to savour this, to savour him. You may want each other badly, but this is Nanamiâs first time. It should be done carefully, respectfully, the way he would treat you if this position had been reversed.Â
But then Nanamiâs hand has moved from your waist to your thigh, blindly grabbing it as he pulls it over his lap. Before you know it, youâre straddling his hips with a huff against his lips, and something like a sharp, pained groan leaves his lips.Â
You pull away from his lips with a ragged breath, concern knitting your brow until you realise what the cause of his groan was.Â
Straddling him, you can feel the pulse of his desire underneath you, the hard ridge of the bulge in his pants pressing insistently against your core through your own clothes. One hand is grabbing your hip tightly, almost too tight, as his forehead rests against your shoulder. The other hand is on your thigh, his thumb digging into the plush flesh there.Â
His breathing is ragged, extremely so. Hot puffs fall against your skin. You weave your fingers through his hair softly, and you watch with reverence as a strong shudder rolls down his spine in response.
âWe can stop, if youâd like,â you murmur against his ear, going to rise up on your knees to give him a little breathing room.
âDonât,â he grunts, the grip on your hip and thigh quickly stopping you. He exhales again, a shaky sound as he keeps his forehead stamped against your shoulder. His voice emerges again, barely audible, slightly pained. â...Iâve wanted this for so long.â
Your grip in his hair tightens in response. In a flood, memories of him rush through your mind. A thousand different glances, subtle touches, small clues. Even in school, the way he would linger, a touch closer every time Suguru or Satoru would appear. The hand at the bottom of your back in a restaurant. The way he would lean in to hear you in a crowded place.Â
The way his arms had tightened around you when he had returned after four years away. I missed you too, almost inaudible against your ear.Â
Nanami didnât want a one-night stand. What was the point of sex at all, if it wasnât with you?Â
The thought has you rolling your hips down against his before you can stop yourself, feeling the firm length of his cock grind against your core. A moan leaves your lips, and something guttural leaves his.Â
The hand on your thigh moves up to your other hip, pulling you down tighter against him as if he could slide inside you right now. âDonât tease,â he hisses between clenched teeth. He turns his head slightly, his lips brushing against your neck. He leaves a searing, open-mouthed kiss against your pulse point. âNot now, not after this long.âÂ
âYou think youâre the only one who waited?â You pant as you grind again, firmer this time. His hips buck against yours in response, a muffled groan leaving his lips, imprinted against your neck. You can feel his cock throb against you, twitching against the fabric that separates you.Â
ââŠyou wanted this too?â He breathes out after a moment.Â
You nod, though you doubt he can see it from the way his face is buried against the crook of your neck. âSince you came back. Since you hugged me back and said you missed me.âÂ
His hands move from your hips to wrap tightly around your waist as if he couldnât bear for a single slither of space to be left between you two. His hips jut up against you once again, a ragged breath leaving his lips. It seems the idea of you wanting him for so long the same as he had the same effect on him as it had on you. If not more.Â
He holds you a little tighter, running the sharp point of his nose along your throat as he tilts his head up. Finally, finally, he breaks free of your neck to look up at you, lips parted, eyes almost desperate.Â
With a thick swallow, Adamâs apple bobbing, he goes to say something but falters, and murmurs your name instead. His dark eyes flick between your eyes and your lips. His cock twitches underneath you.Â
âPlease,â is all he can croak out, and the moan that almost leaves your lips would have been primal.Â
You nod your head, giving his shoulders a small squeeze, pushing him back slightly. He seems reluctant to let go, but finally relents after a little insistence, reclining back against the couch. His arms unwind and his hands drop to your hips. He looks up at you, clearly waiting for your lead.Â
You sit back slightly on his parted thighs, the muscles firm and supportive underneath you. Letting your hands fall from his shoulders, you drag your fingertips slowly down over the expanse of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his wrinkled shirt. As your fingers skate over his abdomen, you feel the muscles flex and roll. Nanami looks at you readily.Â
âWe should do this properly,â you murmur, your eyes trained on the lower buttons of his shirt, near the waistband of his slacks. âIn a bed.âÂ
Nanami, to your surprise, shakes his head quickly, giving your hips a small squeeze. âWeâve waited long enough.âÂ
You raise an eyebrow but donât disagree. Despite the need, the ache, the pulse of your own core, you canât help but think of if the positions were reversed. The image of candles, roses and soft music fills your mind, Nanamiâs guiding hands and murmured praises. It would be slow and romantic. Perfect.Â
âNanami,â you breathe out, almost chastising. With the way his cock is pressing against you, you have no doubt heâs not thinking clearly right now; the thought of having what he had wanted for so long within his grasp clouding rational thought.Â
He shakes his head again, a lock of his mussed hair tickling his brow. âNext time.â He shifts, sliding down the couch a little more and spreading his thighs - and in turn, spreading yours. He grips your hips tighter, pulling you a little closer until youâre seated right on top of him. âNext time,â he repeats in a groan. âWeâll go slow. Iâll explore every inch of you, taste you. Now, I just wantâŠâ He exhales an unsteady breath, sounding like your name. âI just want you.âÂ
Your fingers linger near his shirt's lower button, and one of Nanamiâs hands unclasps itself from your hip to gently grasp your wrist. He guides your fingertips to the belt buckle, the metal cool against your hot fingers.Â
You meet his eyes once more, and his gaze is a paradox of firmness and vulnerability. Heâs nervous, you think, but ready. Almost desperately so.Â
Without another word, your other hand reaches down to join your other one, and your fingers are surprisingly deft as you slide the leather through the metal. Nanami watches your hands with rapt attention until the belt is loose. Your fingers slide over the metal button of his slacks, and you donât check in this time. You pop it open before sliding his zipper down, the crackle of the metal teeth as loud as a gunshot between you.
A small sigh of what you think is relief leaves his lips as the fabric parts, giving you a small glimpse of the dark boxers underneath, straining over his cock. A small wet patch blooms at the top, wear his tip would be, and a shudder runs through you.Â
Your fingers tuck into the waistband of his underwear, lingering for a moment. You look up at him at the same time he looks up at you. Without a sound, Nanami lifts his hips and you rise up to your knees.Â
With a few firm tugs, you manage to inch his slacks and boxers down enough to free him. A small huff leaves his lips as the cooler air of the apartment hits his overheated flesh, and you watch in rapt attention as his cock twitches, the flushed tip glistening already.
Itâs longer than you expected. Thicker too. Uncut. A prominent vein runs up the underside of it, and you have the sudden urge to follow it with your finger, or your tongue.Â
Nanami shifts underneath you, and you realise youâve been staring a touch too long.
You pull your eyes away from his cock to meet his eyes, and his breathing seemed to have quickened. Anticipation is making him stiff, almost antsy, a rare sight on a man youâve rarely ever seen anything of other than composed.Â
Itâs endearing.Â
Reaching down, you satisfy your own urge and run your fingertip up his shaft, following the vein, feeling it pulse steadily to the rhythm of his heart. Nanamiâs hips twitch, his eyelids fluttering. Dark eyelashes tickle his cheeks.
When you curl your fingers around him, gripping him firmly at the base, his eyes shoot open, snapping to the sight of him in your palm. You give him one pull upwards, and a bead of pre-cum wells in the divot of his slit.Â
âFuck,â comes out in a very quiet, gruff choke. Your eyebrows rise in surprise, a small smile on your lips. Nanami didnât always curse, and especially not like that.Â
âLanguage, Nanami,â you tease, and his eyes flick up to you, something indignant and impatient in his eyes. You usually werenât one to tease, and he wasnât one to be teased.Â
You continue to stroke him slowly for a moment, rubbing your thumb against the sensitive tip. You fingers quickly become tacky, the glide of your hand more fluid, until the lewd wet noise starts to rise to the same level as Nanamiâs breathing. He grunts with every upward stroke, his hips twitching underneath you. Had it not been for your weight on top of him, you get the distinct feeling heâd be bucking up into your palm a little more eagerly. His head falls back against the couch, lips parted, his eyes fluttering closed once more as he relaxes more into the sensation.Â
It occurs to you that youâve seldom seen Nanami this relaxed.Â
âAre you sure you want to do this here?â you ask, âwith me on top?âÂ
He nods but doesnât open his eyes. His hands run up from your hips to your waist, a soft caress. âItâll be⊠easier for me- hah-â Another choked groan leaves his lips as you give the head of his cock a small squeeze, and Nanamiâs hand flies to your wrist in a blink, stopping you from making another move.Â
You feel his cock throbbing in your grasp, and Nanamiâs straight-up panting now, his eyes slightly wild as he tilts his head up to look at you. Itâs an arousing reality to know that you had just pushed Nanami dangerously close to the edge without even meaning to.Â
âI wonât last,â he murmurs, looking up at you, his eyes shining.
 You realise quickly that heâs actually asking a question. Are you sure?Â
âThis time,â you reply with a small smile. With his hand still around your wrist, you give his cock another squeeze, and he grits his teeth, that vein in his neck protruding once more. You can see the taut muscles in his abdomen flexing from where his shirt has bunched up.Â
As much as the idea of making Nanami cum, right here, right now, appeals to you, you relent for now. Youâd love nothing more than to watch him spill into your palm, to see the euphoria and bliss play out on his face⊠but that was for another time. The next time, perhaps.Â
You release his cock, letting it fall back against his lower stomach with a dull smack, making him hiss through his teeth. Leaning forward, you brush your lips against his throat, nipping at the skin softly.Â
You guide his hands to the waistband of your own bottoms, and he wastes little time in following your unspoken order. The press of your lips against his throat clearly distracts him, but he manages to pull down your clothes enough to leave you in your underwear. You kick them off the sofa haphazardly, not leaving his neck for a single moment.Â
He catches you off guard when his hand immediately dives for your sex, cupping your heat through the dampened fabric. You stutter against his neck, gripping onto his shoulders for support in response.Â
Your eyelids close, goosebumps erupting across your skin as you feel just how wet you are. âNanami,â you gasp.
âKento,â he whispers quickly. Once, then twice, he rubs his palm along your clothed pussy, something guttural building in the back of his throat as you buck down into his touch. âYouâre⊠so wet.âÂ
The wet spot on the fabric clings tightly to your folds, doing very little to dampen the sensation of his touch. His fingers are exploratory, a tentativeness that belies his lack of experience with this, but his touch, the fact itâs him, here and now, makes up for it all.Â
You canât remember the last time you enjoyed a touch such as this. Not like this.Â
Despite toying with Nanamiâs cock until he almost burst, hypocritical impatience gets the better of you, and you remove your hand from his shoulders to tug down your own underwear, kicking it off to join the growing pile on the floor. Bare from the waist down, Nanamiâs eyes roam over the exposed skin almost hungrily.Â
Both calloused hands run up your thighs, pressing into the soft flesh slightly. You see his hand move for your pussy once more, but your fingers are curling back around his cock again before he can distract you.Â
Next time, keep parroting in your mind. Next time you can both endure hours of foreplay; touching, kissing, tasting, the whole nine yards. You promise to make him cry out before he even sinks inside you, to run your tongue along every inch of his skin until youâre sick of the taste of him. Youâd know heâd do the same.Â
But you two had waited long enough.Â
Gripping the base of his cock again, you brush it up against your heat, your own slick smearing across him. Nanamiâs eyes almost roll back into his head, but he closes his lids before you witness it. Youâre faring little better, the mere sensation of having him against you like this, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your clit sending you dizzy. You angle your hips, and just feeling the thick head press against the tight, slick ring of muscle is enough for a moan to already tumble past your lips.Â
Something flickers in Nanamiâs gaze as he opens his eyes again, honing in on the sight of you braced above him like this. He grips your hips, his touch light, merely supporting you for now. You look back once into his eyes, and go to check in just once more, but he leans forward, capturing your lips in a kiss thatâs little more than teeth and raw need.Â
His lips pressed against yours, you sink down, the wider head of his cock slipping inside you. Your lips part in a soundless gasp against his mouth, swallowing the ragged groan that leaves his throat. The stretch is slightly more than youâre prepared for. Distantly, you think, skipping foreplay wasnât the wisest idea, but desperation, need, pushes you forward regardless.Â
So you sink down further, inch by inch, and as he slides deeper and deeper, his grip on your hips grows tighter and tighter, until the force of his fingers dulls the ache of his cock kissing your cervix.Â
âOh, fuck,â you gasp as you finally bottom out, hips sitting on top of his. You realise youâre breathless, and that cowgirl might not have been the best position for taking someone of his size. Certainly not in one go, like you just had.Â
Nanami is fairing no better. His mouth is agape, his biceps trembling where he clings to you. He seems dazed, winded, panting into your mouth as his arms wind against you. He pulls you forward, and you both moan as his cock seems to slide just that little bit deeper.Â
Youâre dizzy, strained, stretched out far more than you can ever remember being before. Your eyes are scrunched closed, your forehead knocking against his. Everything feels distant and muffled. It takes you a moment to realise Nanamiâs muttering something repeatedly in fragmented gasps.
When you open your eyes, heâs looking at you almost panicked, his eyebrows knitted upward. His teeth are bared, gritted - and itâs now you notice that youâre clenching around him so tight that youâre not sure if youâre causing him more discomfort than pleasure.
You swallow thickly, trying to catch your breath. Youâre flushed, prickly heat blooming across your chest and neck. You shift a little, and something pained rumbles from the back of Nanamiâs chest in response. Â
âDo you want me to stop or-â
âDonât,â he grunts, his fingers shaking against your back. âDonât move.âÂ
The throb of his cock inside you is insistent, and it takes everything in you not to clench tighter around him in response. You know heâs close, dangerously close, and as much as you want to rise up on your knees and slam yourself down on his cock until heâs begging you to stop, you clench your jaw and relax.Â
You bury your face in the crook of his neck, kissing his skin softly; small pecks and affectionate touches. He shivers, and his cock still pulses, but slowly, muscle by muscle, he relaxes too, ragged pants dissolving into hot, muted breaths. His arms around you loosen, holding now, not gripping.Â
âTell me when you want me to move,â you whisper against his ear, pressing a small kiss to the lobe.Â
He nods, brushing his cheek against yours with a soft sigh. His hand moves from your back upward, until he cups the back of your head, drawing your lips back to his. Itâs a soft kiss, loving; slow and sensual slides of wet skin mingling with gentle exhales. Before you know it, and before he says, youâre rolling your hips greedily, just grinding against him for now.Â
A guttural sound leaves his lips. His forehead feels hot and sticky pressed against yours like this, a strand of his hair tickling your cheek.Â
You feel his thighs shift, widening as far as the slacks still around his thighs can allow, feet planted more firmly into the carpet. The first roll of his hips is disjointed, off rhythm with your own, but the slight drag of his cock against your walls has you moaning brokenly. The second roll, a little more confident, has you pressing your hips down to meet it, and your back arches like a cat.
âFuck yes,â you moan, your voice thick and throaty. You moan his name, wait for the third shallow thrust, and meet it. âYou feel so fucking good.âÂ
He looks up at you like you hung the stars, his eyes widening at the sound of his name tumbling past your lips like a fractured halo. He loses his rhythm, but you soon pick it back up for him, starting to use your thighs to slide more eagerly down his cock. Itâs still shallow, Nanamiâs arms around your waist preventing you from really going for it, but youâre unwilling to part from the closeness for now.Â
You bounce a few inches at a time, the dull clap of your hips and the lewd squelch of your hot cunt wrapped tight around him filling the air of the apartment. With each bounce, a grunt pushes out from his chest, hot breath fanning across your face.Â
Nanami, though inexperienced, starts to let his body guide him. His hips buck up to meet you more confidently, and the growing force of his movements has you keening, fingernails biting into his shoulders.Â
You look square into his hooded eyes, breath mingling, and see the flush across his skin, his lips glistening with saliva. You moan again, higher pitched this time, and Nanamiâs next thrust has you jolting up a little, nose bumping against his. You clench around him again, and his brow knits together.Â
âS-Shit,â he pants, his hips starting to jolt more readily, pushing a little too forcefully into you, quickly losing his rhythm. âIâm not⊠Iâm not going to lastâŠâ His movements quicken, grow more erratic, and youâre not even sure he realises. â⊠youâre so fucking⊠tight.âÂ
The last part is little more than a throaty whisper, his voice cracking. You stop meeting his thrusts and instead, widen your stance, tighten your core, and let him take what he needs. The movement, though small, isnât lost on him, and he looks up at you, emotion swimming heavily in his dark gaze.Â
He thrusts up grow more erratic, sloppier, something like a grunt leaving his mouth with every dull thwap of his hips against your ass. His arms tighten around you, fingertips pressing into your skin. A groan, a hiss, and a swallow. The couch creaks and strains.Â
âN-Next time - hah - next time⊠I want t-to feel you cum around me,â he pants, his arms starting to shake. âIâll give you everything, anything, fuck, I-Iâll keep going until⊠until⊠God-âÂ
Heâs barely pulling out now, a mere inch is all heâs moving, the head of his cock bullying against the soft spot right next to your cervix. Choked, high-pitch moans are the only sounds you can make, and you distantly note youâve never sounded like before. Not ever.Â
Youâre getting there, you realise. Not quite close, and definitely not as close as him, but the way his cock fits inside you, the slap of his hips against you, the way heâs looking at you⊠itâs pushing you there fast.Â
But itâs not quite enough.Â
âIâm close,â he gasps. âI⊠whereâŠâÂ
âInside,â you reply without hesitation. Something passes by his eyes, a small flicker of concern, perhaps, swimming in the sea of lust and arousal. You try to find your bearings enough to tell him itâs okay, you wouldnât have taken him inside if you werenât protected-
-but then his cock is twitching inside you, and Nanami is shaking, shaking underneath you, his thighs jolting, nearly bucking you off his lap altogether.Â
With one last slam of his hips against you, buried as deep as he could possibly ago, a long, primal groan leaves him. Itâs deep, visceral, easily mistaken for something pained - and it might be the most divine fucking sound youâve ever heard in your life.Â
He buries his face against your throat as his hips buck involuntarily a few times, and you shiver as you feel that familiar warmth bloom inside you. Heâs giving you everything, or what feels like it. Your pussy flutters around him, and his fingertips press into you so tight you wouldnât be surprised to see bruises.Â
His heart is hammering against your chest, the thump pounding even in your own chest. Ragged pants and a heavy quiet settles over the living room. His cock continues to twitch inside you, growing weaker with every thud of his heart.Â
Nanami doesnât pull his head from your throat for a long while, his nose pressing into your skin as he pants against you.Â
After a moment, he finally swallows. â⊠Iâm sorry,â he mutters. âI⊠I should have made you-âÂ
âShut up,â you murmur against his warm hair, breathing in the faint scent of sweat and his shampoo. He seems to get the picture, of what you were trying to say. He always did. âNext time,â you add anyway, just to be sure.Â
He lifts his head from your skin, looking up at you blearily. You smile fondly as you see his face again, the harsh lines on his brow and his eyes smoother now, no longer creased as they always seemed to be. He looks⊠so much younger, you think, like this. Relaxed. Sated.Â
You brush some of his sweaty hair out of his face, and his eyelids flutter at the brief contact. He seems exhausted, you think.
âI meant what I said,â he murmurs as he looks up at you. âI donât want this toâŠâ His palm moves against your back, sliding down your spine. âI want you. Properly. I always have.â He swallows. âAlways.âÂ
Your eyes soften. He looks at you expectantly, almost vulnerably.Â
âYou have me,â you murmur in reply, finally. âProperly.âÂ
A small smile tugs at his lips, and itâs warmer than youâve ever seen before. Genuine. Light. Itâs as if a decade of weight lifts from his broad shoulders, if only briefly.Â
He pulls you close once more, his lips pressing against yours softly, lovingly, and the world seems to fade away.Â
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