this is my side-blog to post my writing. you can view my full catalogue of work on my ao3 and most of my previous works on my old blog. thanks for stopping by! I mostly interact from my personal account nikkento so feel free to follow me there.
Masterlist:
*indicates NSFW content
JJK
Bath Time [husband!Nanami smutty drabble]*
Babysitter - Part 1 | Part 2 [dilf!Toji smut]*
Caught [roomate!Toji smutty drabble]*
Your Boss [boss!Nanami fluffy drabble]
Taking Care of Him [boyfriend!Choso smutty drabble]*
Nothing Even Matters [husband!Nanami fluffy drabble]
Rub You the Right Way - Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 [neighbor!Choso smut]*
About Love [Nanami x f!reader series - ongoing]*
Brother's Best Friend [Ino x f!reader drabble]
Praise [boss!Nanami smutty drabble]*
Bad Romance [Wild West!Toji smut]*
The Worst [Toji smutty drabble]*
Toro! Toro! [Todo x popstar!reader smutty one-shot]*
Gojo's Bad Joke [boyfriend! Nanami smutty drabble]*
Petite Céréale [husband!Nanami fluffy drabble]
Mix Tape [high school!Nanami fluffy drabble]
Bed Chem [husband!Nanami smutty drabble]*
Living with Your Brother's Best Friend [smutty Ino drabble]*
Hitching a Ride with Your Brother's Best Friend [smutty Ino drabble]*
Silk Tie [husband!Nanami smutty drabble]*
During a Work Meeting [husband! Choso smutty drabble]*
“Can you hand me the Phillips screwdriver, sweetie?”
The two of you lean over the counter, above the kitchen sink, working on replacing a leaky faucet. You told Nanami you could fix it yourself, but he insisted he do it, so you let him without any resistance to his offer. Still, you stand next to him for moral support and little requests like this. You dig into his tool bag, retrieving the tool and passing it to him. He grabs it, giving you a quick glance and a smile. “Thank you.”
“You know, I could be even more useful if you let me,” you tell him, taking this time to admire his attire. Weathered blue jeans reserved for repairs around the house and a raggedy tank top, accentuating his strong biceps.
He removes the cap from the left handle, concentrating carefully on removing the screw. “Oh? How so?”
You put one hand on his lower back, the other on his crotch, leaning close to his ear. “Let me show you.”
He chuckles, turning to face you, nose grazing yours, licking his lips. “Show me then.”
You kiss him passionately, undoing his fly and pushing his waistband down his legs. He curses under his breath as you get down on your knees in front of him. “Bet I can fix this leaky faucet before you can fix yours,” you challenge him, teasing his cock with little kisses along his shaft.
He laughs again, fiddling with his tools. “We’ll see about that.”
You give his tip a few licks before surrounding your mouth on him, cupping his balls and stroking his length, exactly the way he likes it. He works quickly above you, determined to beat you at this silly game, one that will surely end with either him coming in your mouth or you bending over the fixed faucet for him to fuck you.
Lucky for the both of you, it’s the latter. He replaces the broken gasket in record time, tightening everything back in place. You can hear the water trickle through the pipes, testing out his own handiwork. Smiling to yourself, you continue to blow him, nose now pressed to his groin, swallowing his dick to the back of your throat. Before you know it, you feel his hand on the top of your head, stroking your hair gently.
You look up at him, mouth still full of his dick. He gazes at you, a wicked smirk on his face. “Looks like I win. Come here.”
He pulls you up on your feet, kissing you sloppily while he tugs your bottoms off you. You slide out of your shirt, already not wearing a bra, so your breasts are out for him. He takes one in his mouth, sucking hard while his fingers play with your clit, already slick with arousal. “Kento,” you moan his name.
He releases you with a loud pop, flicking his tongue on your sensitive nipple. “Want to check my work?”
You nod, turning around to face the faucet while he surrounds you from behind, resting his hard on between your ass cheeks. “We should test it out,” he says breathily, hands still all over you.
You bend over for him, spreading your legs apart, sticking your ass out. Nanami guides his cock head between your pussy lips, coating it in your wetness. His voice is hot on your ear. “Look how wet you are just from sucking my cock. Naughty fucking girl.”
“Kento, please,” you whine, on your tippy toes now, anticipating the sensation of being stuffed full of him.
“Please what, sweetheart?” He taps his cock head against your achy clit.
“Please fuck me.”
He slides inside you smoothly, pushing until he bottoms out, the both of you moaning in pleasure. You adjust to his size before he starts thrusting, slow and gentle at first, his grip tight on your hips. After a few easy strokes, his pace increases, the lewd slapping of skin-on-skin and the incessant moans coming from the both of you echoing off the walls of your kitchen.
“Kento!” you cry out, approaching your orgasm.
He doesn’t relent, reaching around to rub circles on your clit. “Come for me, baby. Come on this fucking cock.”
You climax, gushing all over him. “Don’t pull out,” you beg him, body shaking from the sensation. “Fuck me until you come.”
He doesn’t argue, doesn’t need to be told twice. You’re damn near off your feet as he fucks you faster and harder, ass jiggling with every thrust. He manages to make you come once more the same time he does, filling you up with his creampie.
When he pulls out, he makes you squeeze your legs back together. “Keep me in you,” he whispers, peppering soft kisses along the nape of your neck. “Might as well fix the other leaks around the house.”
Nanami rents a sports car to drive on vacation and though he normally follows the rules, something about going so fast with you next to him in the passenger’s seat gets him really excited.
So he pulls up to a secluded lookout point and coaxes you into the backseat. He doesn’t even have the patience to remove his pants completely, he just shoves them off enough to free his cock. He plops you down on his lap and makes you spread your legs, rubs his hard-on against you until you’re wet in your panties. Slips those off so that you can smear your wetness all over his shaft. Teases your aching clit with his leaking tip. Eventually he slips inside you, holding your cheeks apart as he bounces you up and down on his cock. The leather squeaks beneath you, the windows fog up with sex. He finds every position he can fuck you in: bent over the center console, missionary with the driver’s seat all the way flat, 69 across the backseat, so sloppy you’re sure it’s left stains.
Exhausted and fucked out, you think he doesn’t have anything left in him. But on the ride back to your hotel, going 30 over the speed limit with one hand on the wheel expertly maneuvering his way through the streets, he’s just too enticing to resist. You lean over, pull his cock out, and blow him, his grip firm on your head like he’s steering you too.
There’s a little bit of history between you two. Spontaneous make-outs at random house parties, some heavy grinding at the club, nothing more than that. The university you both attend is so big and since you aren’t in the same major, you rarely see him around campus. So when you finally spot him at the library, all by himself at a table, you can‘t contain your excitement.
He looks up from his laptop when he sees you walking towards him. “Hey,” you whisper, giving him a casual wave with a small smile on your face.
HIs eyes light up, the same way they do whenever he catches you at a party, like he’s set his sights on his next prey. “Hey.” He points to the empty chair across him. “Want to sit?”
“I have to go look for a book first,” you tell him, the plan already devised in your mind. Biting your lip in the most seductive way you can think of, you ask, “Can you help me?”
At first, he’s confused. He almost questions it, but when he watches you cross your legs together, a devious look in your eyes, he gets it. Smirking, he stands up, gathering his belongings, ready to go. “Hell yeah.”
He follows you all the way to the farthest, most secluded corner of the library you can think of. You drop your bags and start kissing, your back against the stacks. His hands are quick to wander down your body, fingers brushing your waist as he travels up your shirt. That’s what you like about him, how eager and hungry he is. He stuffs his tongue into your mouth, kissing you so sloppy that your lips glisten with his saliva. You play with the waistband of his sweatpants, your nails tickling the delicious V of his Adonis belt.
He kisses you along your neck, up to your ear, breath hot and voice a sultry low growl. “Is my little slut gonna suck this cock?”
You let out a moan, nodding enthusiastically as you get on your knees, pulling his pants and boxers down with you. This is the first time you’ve seen his cock, and while you’ve fantasized about it plenty of times before, the real thing is even more impressive. A pretty mushroom tip, already leaking precum. Veiny shaft with a girth that you’re not sure your hand can completely fit around. His balls are heavy, ready to be drained into you.
His hands grip tightly onto the shelf as you swallow him down, pushing him farther and farther with each stroke. By the time he bottoms out, he’s down your throat, your lips at the base of his cock, nose buried in his pubic hair. You shove a hand down your own pants, circling your aching clit while you blow him, ignoring the gag reflex and the tears welling in your eyes. He tastes even better than you imagined, rugged and masculine, filling your entire mouth. His groans spur you on, the way he can’t help move his hips with you to fuck you back.
His orgasm is intense, as if he’s been holding back until this very opportunity with you. He shoots down your throat and you try to guzzle it all down, but there’s so much it spills into your mouth, some of it dripping off your lips. Before you can swallow the rest, he pulls you back up to your feet and kisses you feverishly, taking what remains of his spend into his own mouth. When he’s finished with that, he takes your wet fingers and licks them clean, his eyes staring into yours.
Thinking about Nanami as a silent lover type, heavy on the breathing and huffy moans, letting the obscene squelch of his cock plunging in and out of your wet pussy fill the silence in the bedroom. The mattress springs squeak beneath you and the wooden frame creaks around you with every thrust. He kisses you sloppily on the mouth, tongue dominant against yours, his thumb trailing down to rub your clit. He's gentle and sensual, letting his actions speak louder than words.
Also thinking about Nanami as a dirty talker, absolute filth spewing out of his mouth every time you moan his name while he shoots his load inside you. "Right there, huh sweetheart? You like it when I fill you up with this cum, don't you? My good fucking slut." He presses two fingers on your aching clit, flicking it fast and hard. "You're going to squirt all over this cock, aren't you? My nasty fucking girl, so messy for me, fuck." When you do, in fact, squirt for him, he stuffs his slick-coated fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean. "You taste so fucking good, baby," he coaxes you to sit on his face, overstimulated but he doesn't care. "Give me more. Give me one more sweetheart," he growls, spreading his tongue on you, ravenous and eager for more.
Your homebody boyfriend Choso, who gets all pouty whenever you decide to go out with your friends. "Don't leave me..." he whines, giving you the most adorable little frown. For a man of his stature, he sure is a cutie pie, especially when he gets needy like this.
You giggle at him, giving him a peck on the cheek. "Don't worry, sweetie. I won't be out long."
"But you always say that," he grumbles, rubbing the spot you kissed, as if etching it on his skin permanently. "I get so lonely here without you."
You raise a brow at him. "You know you're always welcome to join us, right?"
He mumbles under his breath, probably something about how he's not interested in socializing, just the usual. It doesn't bother you; Choso isn't used to being around other people outside you or his brothers. He has a handful of friends he occasionally sees for game nights, but he'd much rather stay home, doing his own thing. Though, ever since the two of you started living together, he prefers to do his own thing with you right beside him.
Tonight, he's exceptionally sulky. "Do you really have to go?" he asks once more, stomping his foot softly.
You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to laugh at how adorable he is. "I'll be back soon. Promise." You hold your pinky out to him, which he hooks with his, sealing it.
It's past midnight by the time you finally check your phone, too caught up with your girlfriends. You don’t realize how late it is until now, immediately guilty for breaking your oath to your boyfriend. Unsurprisingly, you're met with a good number of unread messages, beginning with normal updates from his night, ending with a more ominous, "You broke your promise."
There's only one missed call from him, and a subsequent voice message, which was sent just a few minutes ago. You tell your friends you need to head home, worried that Choso is genuinely upset at you.
Once you’ve boarded the train, you put on your headphones, finally able to listen to your boyfriend’s voicemail. There’s no talking at first, only the muffled sound of the phone briefly being dragged across clothing, most likely his sweatshirt. Then, a long sigh. “You lied to me baby.” He sounds so disappointed, you can see the glum expression on his face so vividly. “It’s already midnight and you’re not back.” More shuffling in the background. What is he doing?
“You didn’t even respond to my texts. You always ignore me when you’re with your friends.” He’s breathing heavily, his voice a tad shaky for some reason. “Since you’ve neglected me tonight, I’m going to take care of myself.”
Unsure what he means, you turn the volume up, securing your headphones to better hear him. He’s stopped talking, seemingly focused on something else. Then, he starts to moan, and when you finally understand what he’s doing, you hear the faint squelching of him stroking his cock. Face hot, you quickly glance at your surroundings, ensuring that your neighbors can’t hear the obscenity playing in your ears.
“I miss you, baby,” he whimpers. “I miss you so fucking much.” You imagine him laid out in your bed, hoodie on and sweatpants completely off, legs spread as he bucks up into his fist. His hand so big he surrounds the entire shaft, his thumb brushing over the tip, smearing his precum. He likes putting plenty of lube on, so it’s slick and slippery across his fingers. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I wish you were here. I wish I could give you this fucking load instead of letting it go to waste.” He swallows hard, licking off the drool leaking out the corners of his lips. “Wish I could fill you up with this hot cum.”
You squeeze your legs together, hoping your arousal isn’t visible to anyone around you. Your pussy throbs against your dampening panties, desperately wishing for the same thing he is, to be stuffed with his fat cock, to be filled with his creampie. You regret staying out longer than you intended, because instead of listening to Choso fuck himself, you could be getting fucked right now.
He increases the pace of his strokes, his moans higher pitched now, closer to climax. Between staggered breaths, he says, “I’m so close. So fucking close.”
You almost yell out to him, begging him to wait for you. Then, in a hushed voice, he whispers, “Maybe I’ll wait. Edge myself until you get home. Fuck this big fucking load inside you. You want that, baby? Do you want me?”
“Yes.” This time, it slips out of your mouth, under your breath. Your pussy pulsates with arousal.
As if he heard you, he says, “Come home now,” and the message abruptly ends.
Author’s Note: this is partially inspired by a spicy audio by one of my fave creators so shoutout to mairsyy on quinn, I’m obsessed with you! also, I’ve probably written something like this before but I can’t get over it, so yeah. Sorry not sorry. divider credit to @/cafekitsune!
It started off innocently enough. Both you and your husband agreed to take a little lazy afternoon nap before prepping dinner for tonight, a homemade hot pot feast to kick off the work week right. Earlier, the two of you hit the grocery store to buy all of the ingredients, all there’s left to do is to cut everything and prepare the soup base. It didn’t seem like a bad idea to rest for a bit, though you should have expected something like this to happen, especially with Nanami.
“Kento,” you whine his name, slowly grinding on his face. The wet noises he’s making below you are obscene, slurping and sucking on your clit, his firm grip on your hips, pressing himself as close to you as possible.
He moans, unable to speak with his mouth full of you. He’s naked too, cock hard and flopping against his abdomen. You want a taste of it, want to gag on it, but he won’t let you. He wants it like this, with you on top of him, smothering him between your thighs, getting as close to the edge as possible until you come all over his face. Then, he’ll slide you onto his cock, feel your wet cunt squeezing him, give you all of his seed he’s saved up for you, feel it drip out of your pussy because it’s too much.
And that’s exactly what he does. His tongue works overtime on your aching clit, unrelenting even as you cry out in orgasm, twitching from overstimulation. When you try to pull away, he only holds you down harder, spreading every inch of his tongue on you to drink you up. Your vision is getting blurry, the pleasure so intense, you’re not seeing clearly, though you notice his brow is furrowed in extreme concentration, as if he’s not letting anything stop him from getting what he wants from you. After being together for so long, you know that there’s no point in fighting it.
After he’s drained you out of everything you have, he finally relaxes, letting you off so that you’re face-to-face, his arms surrounding you in a loving embrace. “Taste how good you are,” he whispers, kissing you with swollen lips, glistening with your arousal. You lick yourself off him, even down to his chin, dragging your tongue along his sharp jawline.
He hums in satisfaction, his cock unbearably hard beneath you. “You taste so fucking good.” His hands travel below your ass, spreading you open, effortlessly sliding himself inside you until he bottoms out. With a ragged breath, he lets out a low, “Fuck,” staying still so you can adjust to the fullness of him.
You’re certain at how ridiculous you look, glazed over eyes, drooling with that fucked out expression you have whenever he’s like this. But still, he gazes at you with such tenderness, holds you like you’re so precious to him. And then in an instant, he gets absolutely feral, slamming his hips up as he bounces you like a fucking rag doll onto his lap. All you can do is take it, a brainless cock sleeve for him to use however he pleases.
He waits for you to orgasm once more before he does, filling you up to the brim with his creampie. You stay like this for a moment, catching your breaths, his hand massaging comforting circles on your back.
The both of you are lazy now, always are after a good fuck. You decide to break the silence. “Let’s order take out tonight and save the hot pot for tomorrow.”
Nanami chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “That sounds good to me.”
Summary: Following a raunchy night of panty-filled debauchery, you and Toji are back to despising one another. You would have thought that after seeing the most intimate parts of him and showing the most intimate parts of you, your less-than-ideal roommate would change his ways for the better. But of course, Toji is as irritating as ever, leaving his mess for you to clean, crossing boundaries, and disrupting your peace. You swear to yourself that you’ll never play this game with him again, but when you catch him in another compromising position, there’s no other choice than to give in.
Word Count: ~3.3k
cw: explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut - mutual masturbation, sex toys, panty kink, degradation kink, dirty talk
Author's Note: Not me realizing I have a degradation kink, but only with Toji lol. I finally had time to write this! It’s been heavy on my mind since I wrote Part 1. Thank you so much for supporting this pervy fic and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! The next part will be the last, maybe Toji will finally win the game. ;) Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
“Are you fucking serious?” you say out loud, open carton of eggs empty in front of you. Whatever hope you had of having a decent breakfast after a rough start to your morning is shattered, and you know exactly who to blame for this.
Even after last night’s rendezvous, your roommate continues to be an asshole. He hogged the bathroom for nearly an hour this morning, doing fuck knows what in the shower. When he was finally done, the mirrors were all foggy from steam and the tile floor was covered in little puddles of water, always notorious for stepping out sopping wet without properly drying himself off. While you rushed to change in your bedroom, you heard him slamming cabinets and drawers in the kitchen, leaving another mess for your to clean up when you’re already running several minutes late to work. Protein powder littered all over the countertop, dirty pan on top of the stove, cracked eggshells in the sink. Why you thought Toji would change overnight, you have no idea. It was absolutely wishful thinking; you thought you finally found a way to get through to him, albeit a fucked up, perverted way, but still a way. Alas, you were wrong. Nothing, not even a private show or soaked panties, could change the prick known as Toji Fushiguro.
It isn’t all for nothing though; even you can admit how sexy it was to see him undone, fucking his fist to you touching yourself. You can use this as masturbation material until the sparkle wears off, which will probably be sooner rather than later at this rate.
On the way to the office, you manage to pick up a pastry to munch on in lieu of your stolen breakfast. You arrive to work late by half an hour, all thanks to Toji’s typical antics, though the day goes by as it does normally, with only brief glimpses of last night replaying in your memory. Despite all that is wrong with Toji, one thing is for certain: he’s really fucking hot. A marble statue chiseled to the finest detail, beefy muscles and abs so defined, even prettier with his pearly white cum splattered across them. It’s a hard image to get out of your head, especially when it’s your deepest darkest fantasies come true. Still, there’s no way you’re letting yourself get caught up in this again. Absolutely no way.
You eat lunch with your coworker, who brings up something you forgot in the midst of all the madness happening at home. “You’re still free tomorrow night to see Ryuji play, right?”
Confused, you quickly swallow the food in your mouth to respond. “Wait, what?”
She rolls her eyes at you. “Don’t tell me you forgot! Ryuji! He’s my boyfriend’s brother’s friend who’s in a band. Remember you wanted me to set you up with him?”
It’s coming back to you now, and of course you remember her telling you about Ryuji. Shaved head, tattooed bassist, tall, lanky, and lean. Totally your type. You nod, smiling at her. “Yes, yes, I remember. Sorry, I’ve been out of it lately.”
“Is your roommate giving you trouble again?” she asks, gazing at you with concern.
You almost choke on your spit, stifling it with a sip of water. “Yes, you could definitely say that.”
“Well, Ryuji will make you forget about that asshole. He’s super sweet and fun. I told him we’d be at his show tomorrow, so please tell me you’re still in.”
“I am, I am,” you assure her, only half-meaning it. To be honest, you did forget about Ryuji after what happened with Toji. But now with the jackass back to being the roommate from hell, you’re thrilled to go out with a normal human being.
The rest of the workday goes by without a hitch. When you return home, you have the place to yourself; it seems that Toji has left for the gym earlier than usual. You have no clue what he does during the day, if he even has a legitimate job or not. Somehow, he makes enough money to pay rent and that’s all that matters to you. Most nights, he’s at the gym for hours, which clearly shows in his impressive physique. Other than that, you barely know a thing about it, a stranger you’ve been living with for the past two months. A part of you likes it this way, though. The mystery, the intrigue. It’s exciting, unfamiliar territory that draws you. A little dangerous.
By the time he’s home, it’s almost midnight and you’re watching TV in the living room. You didn’t mean to wait for him or anything. It just so happens that you stayed up a little past your normal bedtime. Maybe you want to test him, to see if he acts any different in person after last night. Because how can he not? Was it not as thrilling for him as it was for you?
You don’t turn around when he shuts the door closed or when he removes his shoes. You keep your gaze directed at the TV, not paying attention to what’s playing while you listen to him meander around the kitchen, chugging a tall glass of water, opening and closing the fridge to steal whatever you made for dinner tonight (chicken curry). It’s only when you spot him in your peripheral that you turn to face him, watching him sit beside you on the couch, cold bowl of curry in hand. He picks at it with his fingers, stuffing big chunks of potato and meat into his face, chewing with his mouth open. And it should gross you out, it really should. Surely a woman of culture has higher standards than this, right?
Yet, you sit there, mesmerized by him, aroused at the way he runs his tongue across his teeth, that way he licks sauce off his thumb, loud and slurpy.
He catches you staring at him. It’s the first time the two of you have encountered each other since watching the other masturbate. His eyes narrow into a cold stare. “What?” He says it with annoyance, like you’re the one bothering him, even though he’s eating the food you purposefully saved for tomorrow’s lunch.
Anger boils inside you. Crossing your arms, you tell him, “I was saving that for my lunch tomorrow.”
He pops a hunk of carrot into his mouth, smirking. “Oops. Sorry.” His typical lazy, insincere apology. Then, he follows that with, “Could use more salt.”
Whatever arousal you felt just moments ago vanishes in an instant. How could you ever think this sorry excuse for a man could be anything more than your arch nemesis?! You stand up in a huff, unable to control the rage bubbling inside you. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
He looks at you, unfazed, almost amused. “Yeah. It’s a little bland.”
You turn the TV off, throwing the remote hard against the cushions on the couch. “You’re such a fucking asshole. Stop eating my fucking food and stop making me clean up your fucking mess!”
He’s grinning wildly now, clearly enjoying this. Slowly, he gets up, towering over you completely. “Whoa, relax. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” His eyes travel to between your legs, his lips twitching with delight. “Oh wait, too late for that.”
Your cheeks are hot, body trembling with anger. “Fuck you,” you say before marching straight into your room, slamming the door shut.
You’re not proud of yourself for the way you behaved, throwing a tantrum like that. You’re also not proud of what you do before you sleep. Under the covers, you hold your vibrator at the max level your clit, coming to the fantasy of Toji bending you over that couch and fucking you silly, all while antagonizing you for your hissy fit. “Fucking brat,” you imagine him saying. “Need to tame you.” You climax thrice picturing the two of you in all kinds of positions, defiling the living room.
You’re so fucked.
~~~
You successfully avoid Toji the following morning by waking up super early to leave for work. The next time you see him, it’s past dinnertime and you’re already changed to go to Ryuji’s show, dressed in a relaxed band tee, jean shorts, and combat boots. You’re hoping to avoid him completely after last night’s meltdown, but as luck would have it, he’s entering the apartment at the same time you’re leaving. He blocks the exit, scanning you up and down, lingering too long on your exposed legs. Instead of a normal greeting, he blurts out, “Where the fuck are you going?”
You narrow your eyes at him, matching his vulgarity. “Why the fuck do you care? Get out of my way.”
He doesn’t budge, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Tell me where you’re going.”
You don’t respond, glaring at him silently.
“I’ll move if you answer me.”
His proposition is so unfair that you can’t keep quiet. “You never fucking tell me anything, so why should I?”
He advances a step forward, trying to intimidate you. Voice low and threatening, he says, “Stop being a fucking brat. Tell me.”
You clench between your legs, disappointed at yourself for how this is affecting you. When he remains unyielding, you relent, desperate for an escape to prevent you from doing something stupid. Again. “I’m going to see someone. He’s in a band and he has a show tonight, so I’m going to watch him. Got a problem with that?”
It takes him several seconds, but eventually he responds. Well, kind of. He simply grunts, then steps aside to clear the way for you. Without taking another glance back at him, you leave, breathing in the cool night air to calm down.
This unfortunately has you fucked up the rest of the night. While you do your best to enjoy the show, which is actually very good, you can’t get Toji off your mind. Not even when Ryuji pulls you backstage into the small dressing room, sweat sticky on his neck all the way into the dip of his collarbones. He has a gorgeous smile, one that looks too alike to Toji’s, or maybe you’re just imagining it. You listen to him talk about how excited he was when he heard you were coming, how pretty you are especially in the crowd watching him. How badly he wants to get to know you better. You smile at him, half-listening, wondering if Toji could ever be this nice to you. When Ryuji leans in for a kiss, you kiss back him half-heartedly, wishing it was your roommate’s lips on you instead. His hand rests on your lap, itching to slide between your legs, but he doesn’t. Because he’s a gentleman, unlike Toji. If this were him, he’d already have his fingers twisted around your panties, knuckles grazing your pussy lips, swollen and pulsating with arousal. His breath hot on your ear, calling you filthy names. Whore, slut, nasty fucking bitch…
You’re on a train home within five minutes, barely thinking about Ryuji’s confused expression at your lame apology of, “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this.” It was barely an explanation, but it didn’t matter as you left him, Toji now the only man on your mind.
~~~
Toji isn’t jealous. Toji never gets jealous. It’s a pathetic feeling to have, especially when he has everything he wants. Rock-hard muscles, money from betting on those goddamn horses, a huge dick. So what if you’re seeing some other guy, dressed like fucking groupie ready to pounce on any fucking asshole with a guitar and lip piercing? He has a pair of your panties and the memory of you stroking your pussy for him. What more could he want? He doesn’t need you to touch him, doesn’t need you to look at him with those greedy fucking eyes, doesn’t need to know what your fist or the inside of your pussy feels like around his cock…
Toji isn’t fucking jealous.
He keeps telling himself this throughout the night, while he’s angrily shaking his protein shake, scrubbing his skin hard in the shower, tossing and turning under the covers in an unsuccessful attempt to sleep it off. There’s no use; whatever’s eating at him isn’t going to stop. It’s going to continue gnawing away until he loses it. He has to do something about this.
The door to your room is wide open. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s snuck in without permission. Your black lace panties are bunched up in his fist; he uses it to jerk off in the shower while simultaneously laundering them; although he’s a pervert, he’s at least hygienic. In his other hand is his silicone cock sleeve, lubed up and ready to go. He had to retire the fleshlight two nights ago, when he pummeled into it nonstop for over an hour, replaying the memory of you stroking your wet, glistening cunt.
He plops down on your bed, shoving a the pillow to his nose, inhaling deeply. His cock twitches at your scent, sweet and satisfying. Quickly, he pulls his pants and drawers off, leaving him completely exposed from the waist down. He bites down on your underwear, keeping them locked in his mouth while he slides his cock through the sleeve, his swollen tip peeking out the other end. Eyes closed, head rolled back against the headboard, he strokes himself slowly, picturing you rubbing your cute little clit between two fingers, moaning his name. Who else can touch themselves in your bed, black lace panties that you gave him stuffed in his mouth? No one but him. Only him.
When you walk in on him, you’re surprised but not upset. Surprised that whatever twisted fantasy you’ve had playing in your head the last fifteen minutes has come true. Seeing him already in your room, pumping his dick through that obscene toy, draws you in immediately.
He doesn’t stop stroking when you walk towards him, only slows his pace. “You’re back,” he grunts out, panties falling from his mouth to his chest.
You let out a small laugh. “I guess you did have a problem with me going out.”
“I don’t have any fucking problem,” he spits out through gritted teeth.
He’s fucking delusional, denying it all while he’s literally masturbating in your bed. Feeling bold, you ask, “Want to guess what panties I’m wearing tonight?”
He scoffs, though he seems intrigued. “What do I get if I win this time?”
You sit at the edge of the bed, your eyes fixated on his cock head leaking precum. “Same thing as last time.”
“You’ll let me fuck you?”
You nod. “Yes.”
“Here on your bed?”
You lick your lips before responding. “Wherever you want.”
“Fuck,” he swears softly under his breath.
This time it is an educated guess. He’s seen you wear these before, right before a date, peeking out of your tight jeans as you bend over to put on heels. Another time, they were underneath a short, skin-tight skirt he saw you slide off yourself after a night out, too tipsy to close your bedroom door while you undressed in front of the mirror. It’s not Toji’s fault for looking, he’s only a man after all. Halfway stripped, you even stopped for a split second just to meet his eyes in the reflection, then continued undressing, fully aware he was watching you.
He knows what you’re willing to show to other men, which is what made him want to snatch these panties for himself in the first place. What made him tick thinking about you doing anything with anyone else. So he’s absolutely certain that you’re wearing your hot pink thongs tonight just to torment him.
When he gives you his guess, it’s hard for you to contain your glee. Reveling in this moment, you pull your skirt down slowly, revealing that you’re not wearing any panties at all.
His eyes go wide, pupils dilating. “You fucking slut,” he snarls, quickening the pace of his strokes. “You tricked me.”
You reach for your nightstand, retrieving your vibrator and bottle of lube. He continues to berate you as you prepare your toy. “Did you let him fuck you? Nasty fucking slut. I don’t want his sloppy seconds.”
Unfazed, you spread your legs across his lap, straddling him. “Doesn’t seem like you mind.” His cock barely fits in the sleeve, so swollen it looks like it’s about to split apart.
He continues to fuck into it, fingers wrapped tightly around the silicone, sweat starting to bead off his forehead. “Did you actually fuck him?” There’s a hint of vulnerability there, something you’re not used to hearing from him. Like he doesn’t want to believe that you let another man touch you after the amazing night you had together.
And it’s true; you couldn’t let Ryuji continue, despite how sweet and respectful he was. What you crave is this, a normally uncompromising and boorish beast degrading you while he yields to your every whim. Does he have to play your silly little games? No. But he does. He can’t help himself when you’re being so fucking naughty, provoking him like this.
Deciding to ease his worry, you tell him the truth. “I didn’t.”
He relaxes, though tries not to show it. “Why not?”
You tease the tip of the vibrator to your aching clit. “You know why.”
He watches you rub the toy up and down your pussy, spreading your arousal all over yourself. “You were thinking about me.” It’s a confident statement, not a guess.
You swallow hard, nodding. Your finger hovers over the button, sure that once you press it, you won’t be able to control yourself. Before you go any further, you say, “No touching.” You set the one rule for this new game you want to play with him. The type of game that makes you feel less guilty about all of this. If you don’t touch each other, just like two nights ago, then maybe it means you haven’t completely abandoned your standards.
Toji doesn’t argue; for someone who’s proved how invasive and inappropriate they are, he’s surprising compliant to your demands.
You finally push the button, the buzz against your clit instantly causing you to clench around nothing. He smirks, the scar on his lip as alluring as ever. “I’m not one of your little boy toys you usually go out with.”
You scoot a bit closer to him, enough that your knuckles brush against each other just the slightest. “Oh yeah?”
This spurs him on, his grip tightening on himself, voice lowered into a growl. “Yeah. I’m a real fucking man.”
“Fuck,” you moan, pressing the tip closer, the pleasure radiating all the way down to your toes. Precum drips down the outside of his cock sleeve and you want to lick it off, but you can’t. You shouldn’t. Your pussy is unbelievably wet now and Toji stares at it, practically salivating for a taste.
He groans, the sound of it deep and guttural in his throat like a wild animal. “You’re just a bitch in heat, running home to cream all over me.”
This has you going feral. You push the button twice to the maximum level and press it deep to your clit until you climax. He orgasms soon after you, the cum shooting out in spurts onto his six-pack. It’s so much that it drips down his side, seeping into your bedsheets.
He settles down, catching his breath, though the dirty talk doesn’t stop. “Fuck, I want to lick your pussy and slurp up all that cum.”
You’re tempted to let him, it’d be so easy to climb up and sit on his face, let him run his tongue all over you. But you have to maintain whatever tiny dignity you have left. So instead, you pump the vibrator tip in and out of your messy cunt and offer it to him. “Want a taste?”
Almost too eager, he leans forward and sticks his tongue out, licking off every bit of you he possibly can. You might be a “bitch in heat”, but here he is, following your every command like a loyal dog.
cw: smut - blowjob, masturbation, cum eating, sex in public
Author’s Note: This took forever to finish, but I did it! And I'm still not over him! Maybe they'll finally do it on Summer Training Camp Day 3, maybe they won't...we'll see! ;) Divider credit to @/cafekitsune!
“Sensei? Are you alright?”
Ayumi, Nekoma’s team manager, wakes you up before you fall asleep in your bowl of rice. You snap out of it, giving your head a quick shake, smiling at her. “Yes, I’m so sorry, Ayumi. I…didn’t sleep well last night.”
It’s true, you didn’t sleep until 4 AM because a certain “crow” kept you up all night. Keishin Ukai is as devious as you expected him to be, though you’re not complaining. It didn’t take long for him to get hard again after watching you spread his seed all over your aching clit. From there, he let his carnal instincts take over, pulling you into his lap to kiss you sloppily while he fingered you. And after that, he insisted on eating you out until you were raw and overstimulated well beyond your limits. You can’t remember how many more times he came, at least twice after the first big one. He must be just as tired as you, right?
Nope. When you meet Karasuno for the day’s first practice match, Ukai seems more chipper than usual, bouncing on his heels to greet Coach Nekomata, patting him on the back jovially. You walk over to Takeda, who grins at you, your exhaustion surely obvious on your face. “Good morning?” he chuckles, phrasing it like a question.
You yawn, crossing your arms over your chest. “It could be better.”
“I know what you mean. It was so hot last night, I couldn’t sleep!”
The memory of last night flashes through your mind. “You can say that again.”
Keishin suddenly joins you, wedging himself between you and Takeda, wrapping his arms around the two of you. “Great day for some volleyball, am I right?” He squeezes your shoulder. His scent has become a sort of aphrodisiac to you, a bit of that natural musk combined with the lingering smell of smoke from his morning cigarette. You can feel the heat off of him, so much it radiates to between your legs. And you know you’re not supposed to find him so appealing, so goddamn attractive. Yet here you are, ready to jump his bones in front of everyone.
Before you do anything stupid, you shrug him off, distancing yourself from him. “Yep. Another great day for Nekoma to beat Karasuno.”
He laughs heartily, the rasp in his voice evident. “Those are fighting words. I didn’t expect that from you, Senpei.” You hate yourself for getting so turned on from hearing him call you that.
You slide your hands in your pockets, trying to play it cool. “I’m just confident in our team. The boys have been working their asses off. I believe in them whole-heartedly.”
Karasuno’s team manager beckons for Takeda and when he excuses himself, Ukai takes a step towards you. “Well, if you’re so confident, then do you care to wager a bet?”
You look at him curiously, raising a brow. “A bet?”
Closer now, he smirks, the same silly sexy smirk from last night and a wave arousal crashes over you. His voice is low, sultry, only for you to hear. “Yeah. If your team wins, I’ll let you fuck me however you like – ”
“Did I hear something about a bet?!” Coach Nekomata interrupts, the old man as stealthy as ever. He has a big smile on his face when he says to Ukai, “I have an idea! When we beat you, then you and Coach Takeda have to come out for drinks.”
Ukai chuckles, nudging Nekomata playfully. “Won’t it be past your bedtime, Old Man?”
Nekomata slaps the younger man hard on the back. “Ha! You’re becoming more and more like your grandpa every day. Even have the crow’s feet to match.”
“Hey! I’m not that old yet!” They laugh together, Ukai sneaking a glance at you, a big smile on his face.
Before you can excuse yourself from what seems like a serious bonding moment between the two, Nekomata says your name. “You’re coming with us too!”
You know better than to argue with him, so all you can do is nod politely and join Ayumi at the bench to go over some last-minute preparations, containing the excitement bubbling in your chest from spending another night with Keishin.
It ends up being an amazing match, with Nekoma beating Karasuno in three tight sets. Ukai orders his team to do diving drills on the court as punishment while you summarize your notes to the boys, who listen intently. Coach Nekomata chimes in as necessary, but lets you take the reins for the most part, which you appreciate.
When it’s time for lunch, you offer to take over water refill duties so that Ayumi can spend time with her peers. You carry the empty bottles in a large bag to the nearest water fountain, right outside the cafeteria. Halfway through, you hear steps approaching from behind, then a familiar voice. “I was wondering where you ran off to.”
You turn to see Ukai walking towards you, hefting his own big bag over his shoulder, other hand casually in his pocket.
“I’m on water duty,” you tell him, tightening the lid on the bottle you just filled, stashing it with the others.
He smiles, taking his place next to you at the unoccupied fountain. “Me too. Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all,” you say, scooting over. “You can do whatever you want.”
He raises a brow at you, dropping his bag to the ground. “Is that so?”
“Mm-hm,” you muse, avoiding his gaze. You bend down to retrieve an empty bottle, sticking your ass out in an obvious attempt to get his attention. To your delight, it works. He hums, clearly enjoying the view, but he doesn’t say more, waiting for you to make the first move.
Growing impatient with this whole “playing hard to get” thing, you let the bottle fall out of your grip on purpose, relieved that it drops right between his feet, where you were hoping it would land. “Oops.”
Ukai reaches for it, but you stop him. “Don’t. I’ll get it.”
Understanding where you’re going with this, he shifts to face you, swallowing hard when you kneel before him, dangerously close to his clothed cock. “Are you always this clumsy?”
You peer up at him, smiling. “Not usually. But you make me flustered.”
“Yeah?” He drifts towards you, the string of his sweatpants grazing your nose.
You tease his waistband, fingers brushing against his skin. “Yeah.”
“Fuck,” he breathes out, taking a quick glance behind him to make sure the coast is clear. “We shouldn’t.” It’s so unconvincing that he might as well have said, “We should.”
You tug him towards you, pressing your lips to his stomach, soft kisses across his navel. “Come on, Coach. The old man is going to keep us out all night. We won’t have time to do this later.”
“We won’t?” It’s cute the way he says it, disappointed like he’s getting denied his favorite toy. Which you’re taken upon yourself to being for him.
You shake your head. “Nope. I need to catch up on sleep because somebody kept me up all night.”
Giving him a sly grin, you lick a wet stripe along his abdomen, causing him to whine, ticklish and sensitive, erection growing beneath his pants. “I want to fuck you,” the words stumble out of his mouth quickly. “I want you to fuck me. I bought condoms, lube, everything.” His legs tremble slightly, nearly bursting at the seams. “Need to be inside you.”
Having too much fun with this, you slowly pull his sweats down to his knees, just enough to expose the huge boner he’s popping in his briefs. You nudge your nose to it, breathing in his masculine scent, your own arousal seeping into your panties. “ Didn’t I win your silly little bet? I get to fuck you however I want.” The wet spot in the fabric darkens and you can’t wait any longer, you need a taste. “And right now, I want to fuck you with my mouth.”
He twitches as soon as you wrap your lips around him, tongue caressing the underside of his thick cock head. “Oh fuck, holy fucking shit.” His continued fucks only get more incessant the deeper you sink, pushing him as far down your throat as possible without gagging, swallowing him. Only when it gets too much do you pull out, wiping away the drool dripping down your chin.
His eyes never leave you, pupils blown wide like he’s ecstatic, cock stiff and blood pounding through his veins. Ignoring the painful ache developing from your knees against hard pavement, you take him in your fist, slapping his tip lewdly against your tongue, string of precum sticking to you, stroking his shaft simultaneously.
It’s miraculous you don’t get caught, considering the proximity to your peers, who share a wholesome lunch together while the two of you copulate out in the open like wild animals. It’s the furthest thing on your mind; all you can focus on is fulfilling your sexual desires, which is currently filling your mouth with Coach Ukai’s hot seed.
He’s surprisingly gentle with you, letting you have total control of the pace. But as he gets closer, his hips start shifting, hands hovering the sides of your face, thumbs grazing your cheeks, too afraid to grab you outright. It’s cute how his persona is that of a punk, but under all that is a gentleman, a sweetheart that you’ve totally fallen for. You stroke him faster, sliding your other hand beneath your panties to touch yourself. At this, he loses it, his orgasm shooting to the back of your mouth in forceful spurts. You guzzle him down happily, making sure to swallow every ounce of him.
When you’re done, you stand up slowly, the pain in your knees finally registering to your brain. You soon forget about it though when Ukai pulls you in and kisses you sloppy. “I like tasting myself on you,” he whispers, his hand joining yours still shoved down your pants, guiding your own fingers to massage your clit. You melt into him, letting him do all the work this time, stroking your pussy while his tongue explores every crevice of your mouth. Eventually, he finds his way inside you, his fingers gliding smoothly in and out of your wet cunt while you work your clit faster and faster until you come like this, coating his digits in your cream.
“Fuck.” Ukai pulls out, sticking his fingers into his mouth to taste you. “Fuck,” he repeats with emphasis, kissing you once more, unable to contain his smile.
You wrap your arms around him, savoring this moment a little while longer before the chatter inside the cafeteria becomes more audible, signaling the end of lunch. The two of you reluctantly separate, Ukai pressing a soft kiss on top of your head before you’re completely apart, abandoning your forgotten water bottles to wash up in the nearby bathroom.
Some of the kids are out by the time you return outside, Ukai following close behind you. Ayumi waves, running to meet you. “Thank you so much Sensei!” She glances at the rival coach suspiciously, then looks down, spotting the few empty bottles you had left. “I’ll finish these,” she offers cheerfully, sliding between you two towards the fountain. “I hope Coach Ukai didn’t bother you too much,” she says coldly, back facing you.
Ukai’s jaw drops, shocked by her unwarranted snark while you laugh, nudging him playfully. “You know how distracting he can be.”
It’s nearing ten when Nanami finally comes out of his home office, eyes droopy with tiredness, shoulders stiff from hunching over his laptop for the past ten hours. He sees you sitting on the couch in your pajamas, watching TV on a low volume as not to disturb him. You glance up at him, giving him a sympathetic smile. “Are you done?”
He sighs, flopping down beside you, resting his head on your lap. “Not yet. Maybe just another hour or so.”
You ruffle his hair affectionately, running your hand gently along his scalp. He relaxes under your touch, some much needed momentary relief during a stressful night of work.
The bane of Nanami’s existence is overtime. He’d much rather be forced fed ribbon pasta than work a minute past business hours. Yet here he is, wasting away his precious hours to finish some report that’s deemed urgent but actually isn’t. Upper management unfairly assigned it to Yuji, who was excited to take on the challenge. As his mentor, Nanami didn’t feel right to leave such a daunting task to his underling, especially on a night the young man had already planned to spend with friends. So, out of the goodness of his heart, Nanami is taking care of it instead. For some reason, he always manages to get himself into situations like this.
You move your fingers to his temple, carefully massaging a pressure point that pulses with tension. He hums, closing his eyes; he could easily fall asleep like this, and if he didn’t have just one more section to finish in this goddamn report, he would. One eye open, he peeks up at you, immediately noticing the mischievous smile on your face. He raises a brow at you, curious. “What are you up to?”
It’s only now that he realizes your other hand has traveled past his head, grazing the buttons on his dress shirt, half of them undone like magic. You shrug, playing coy. “Nothing.” Your knuckles brush against his abdomen, fingers reaching for his belt.
“Sweetheart…” he warns you, not doing much to resist.
You undo his pants, slipping beneath fabric to rest your palm on his throbbing cock. “I just want to help you relax for a little bit. Is that so wrong?”
He sits up, observing the compromising position. “I have to…” he swallows thickly, voice trembling. “I have to get back to work.”
You press a soft kiss to his forehead, sliding your hand across his shaft. “Just a few minutes. Fifteen minutes tops. You deserve a break.”
He nods, giving in way too easily. You meet his lips with yours, his tongue out and kisses languid, as if in a trance. “I do. I really do.”
You start to pump his cock in small strokes, licking into his mouth. He lifts his hips up to pull down his pants enough to free himself. His dick is hard and already weeps with precum, all the pent-up stress slowly leaking out of him. He begs, even whines a little bit. “Sweetie, please.
You’re wet between your legs, but you can deal with this later. Right now, you want to give your husband a well-deserved treat. Sliding out from beneath him, you position yourself on the edge of the couch, kneeling in front of him. He sits up, back against the cushions, eyes glazed over in a daze, watching. You pull his trousers and boxers all the way to his ankles, giving you full access. Wetting your lips, you sink down on him, hollowing your cheeks as you surround him with your mouth.
“Fuck,” he moans laying his head back, eyes fluttering in ecstasy.
With each stroke, you swirl your tongue over his swollen tip, getting a taste of him. When he bottoms out, you gag on his cock, swallowing him down your throat until you need to catch a breath. He grips your head cautiously with both hands and when you nod at him, giving him the best smile you can with his cock still in you, he goes for it. He fucks your mouth faster, harder, desperate for release. He scoots to the very edge of the couch, thrusting against you, relishing the way you choke on his cock like the good little slut you are.
When you reach for your clothed pussy, arousal soaking through the thin cotton of your pjs, his voice is husky, wrecked with carnal desire. “Do it. Touch yourself while I fuck this pretty mouth.”
Without hesitation, you slip your fingers between your legs, rubbing your aching clit. It doesn’t take much longer for him to come, seeing you get off from blowing him. “I’m coming,” he groans, shooting his load into the back of your throat. You guzzle it down easily, coming on your wet fingers as you suck every drop of him until he pulls out, oversensitive now. He takes a moment to recover, breathing deeply as he watches you remove yourself from your panties, a blissful expression on your face. Just as you’re about to stand up and wash your hands, he stops you, bringing your filthy fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean.
You tempt him to clock out for the night, to take you straight to the bedroom for a full-on fucking. But he resists, promising to continue the fun after his work is done. So, with one last peck on the lips, which he’s hesitant to end, he retreats back into his office, feeling extra motivated to finally finish this cursed report.
Summary: You’ve got the most horrible roommate imaginable. The worst part of it all: he’s incredibly fucking hot. When you find out he’s stealing your dirty underwear, you decide to get back at him the best way you know how.
Author's Note: In honor of brat summer approaching, I’ve written a little piece inspired by the song Guess by Charli xcx (ft. Billie Eilish of course). This song has always seemed so Toji-coded to me. I hope you enjoy! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
To say that you’re not the biggest fan of your roommate is the understatement of the century. The disdain and contempt you have for Toji Fushiguro isn’t without reason, though. Since you moved in about two months ago, he’s been nothing but the epitome of a bad roommate. He’s messy, never cleans up after himself, eats your food without asking, disrespects your boundaries. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, used take-out containers on the counter until you can’t take it anymore and have to throw it out yourself. Groceries you’ve allocated for yourself always mysteriously disappear into his protein smoothie or post-workout meal. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s “accidentally” walked in on you naked in the bathroom after a shower. His apology is always a lazy, “Oops, sorry”, his gaze lingering way longer than it should. He was a walking red flag since the beginning. If the rent wasn’t so cheap and the location so close to your work, you’d have been out of there after the first week.
It also doesn’t help that you’re stupidly attracted to him.
Call it carnal attraction or whatever, but no matter how fucking irate he makes you, you can’t help fantasizing being trapped beneath his massive pecs, bulging biceps surrounding you, kissing and licking him all over that delicious scar across the right corner of his lips. You know he has a big dick; you haven’t seen it for yourself, but you’ve peeked at the outline of it through those grey sweats he always wears, parading it around for everybody to admire. He’s brought women home before, railing them in his bedroom across the hall, their moans always so excessive and wanton that even the max volume on your noise-cancelling headphones isn’t enough to drown them out. Another goddamn reason he annoys you beyond wit’s end, even if you do imagine yourself being on the receiving end, getting pounded by that huge cock of his. Screaming “Fuck me Toji!” over and over again into his pillow until it’s wet with your spit.
Ugh, what a fucking prick.
It finally crosses the line though. You start noticing it two weeks ago when you were folding laundry. A few pairs of missing underwear. At the time, you chalked it up to the washing machine eating them to never be found again. It happens, nothing too concerning to worry about. But when you clock that it’s always a certain pair, something skimpy, something silky, something tiny, like the thongs you typically wear on a date, then you start to suspect something more nefarious. In this case, someone.
You decide to test it out by laying out a trap, a small piece of cheese to lure the rat. In this case, it’s panties, the lacey black pair with the little bows. You suspect the worst, that your disgraceful and frustratingly hot roommate is totally sneaking into your room to steal your worn garments. Part of you still gives him the benefit of the doubt, a very tiny, miniscule part of you. But of course, it’s just as bad as you think. Because when you come home, it’s completely gone from the top of your hamper. Despite the evidence being clear as day, you can’t fully believe it. This sick fuck is actually taking your dirty underwear!
When he leaves for the gym, your body reacts before your brain can tell you to stop. If this motherfucker is sneaking into your room to take your things, then you have every right to sneak into his room to take it right back. You march straight for his bedroom and search the first place you think he’d be hiding this filthy secret of his: the bedside drawer. And lo and behold, it’s there in all its perverted glory. Five pairs all bunched up next to a half-empty bottle of lube and an obscene sex toy. Real classy.
In theory, you should be disgusted, absolutely appalled by this abhorrent discovery. And you are, you absolutely are. It’s right there, your dirty underwear further defiled by whatever vile acts he’s committed with it. It’s awful, totally repugnant and revolting and sleazy. Straight up nasty. You imagine him laid out on this bed, your hot pink thongs between his fingers as he strokes his throbbing cock in his fist, precum dribbling out of the tip. Or your silk piece stuffed inside his mouth as he fucks his fleshlight so hard that its fake pussy lips rip at the seams. Perhaps all he does with it is sniff it, inhale your womanhood through his nostrils so deeply that he can almost taste your pussy. And maybe he does just that, running your lacey panties across his tongue, salivating at how delicious you are in his mouth.
Oh no, oh god no. This is bad, this is so so bad. You’re not disgusted by this at all. In fact, you’re aroused. You’re wet just thinking about him getting off to your panties, his brows furrowed tight, sweat beading off his forehead as he jerks himself into oblivion. And if he’s allowed to have this much fun with it, why can’t you?
By the time he returns from the gym, you’ve already washed the evidence and have it back in your possession. You confront him after his shower, knocking lightly on his door dressed in a nightgown that’s a little too short on you. He opens it, sporting a tight white tee and an even tighter pair of briefs, scrubbing a towel over his damp hair as if he isn’t casually looking like a Calvin Klein model. “What do you want?” His tone is blunt as usual, expression indifferent, though his eyes take a quick scan of you up and down in the attire you’re wearing.
You swallow your nerves, smiling politely at him. “I just wanted to ask you something. Can you come to my room?”
There’s a tinge of confusion when his brow raises ever-so-slightly at you. This never happens; the two of you tend to avoid each other at all costs. He’s never been invited to your room before. Still, he follows you down the hall, not questioning it. You lead him inside, not bothering to shut the door closed. Pointing at the floor, you tell him, “Please sit.”
He glares at you. “Excuse me?”
“I think you’ll want to be seated for this,” you respond, unbothered.
“What the fuck are you – ”
“I found my underwear in your room.”
He gawks at you, then quickly gathers himself to deny it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
You narrow your eyes. “Really? Seems like you know exactly what I’m talking about. It was all there, right next to your lube and fleshlight.”
This shuts him up. Taking a deep breath, he steps towards you, pointing an accusing finger. “You had no right to sneak into my room.”
You do the same, shortening the distance between you. “You had no right to sneak into my room and steal my dirty underwear, you fucking freak.”
“You have no proof,” he challenges you.
“The proof is right here, asshole.” You point to your bedside drawer, where the evidence lies hidden from view. “I have reason to report you to the police.”
He crosses his arms over his big chest, his nipples peaked through the fabric. “Then fucking do it. See if I care.”
The tension is so heavy between you, it’s taking everything to resist yourself from pouncing on him. You give him a smirk, feeling confidence you’ve never felt before. “Not yet. Doesn’t seem fair that you got to have all this fun in my expense. I want to play a little game with you first.”
He snarls at you. “What the fuck are you on about?”
You sit down at the edge of your bed, the hem of your nightgown riding up your thighs as you cross one leg over the other. “Out of all the ones you’ve taken from me, I want you to guess which pair of underwear I’m wearing right now.” You fold your hands over your lap. “And no cheating.”
At first, he’s perplexed by this proposition, unsure if this is real or if it’s just some trap he’s destined to fall for again. Then, he gulps loudly, asking, “What happens if I guess right?”
You grin at him. “I’ll let you fuck me.”
He licks his lip, erection growing in his briefs. “And if I’m wrong?”
“You’ll have to watch me play with myself. And get these panties dirty all over again.”
He can’t help himself from swearing under his breath. “Sounds like a win-win situation.”
You chuckle. “Trust me, I think you’re a loser either way.” Scooting farther back onto the bed, making sure to pull down the hem of your gown to hide yourself, you ask, “So…what’s your guess?”
You’re fully aware of how ridiculous this “game” is. Toji is completely right; it’s a win-win situation. If he’s right, he’ll fuck your brains out. If he’s wrong, you get to torment him by spreading your legs while he watches, wishing he could fuck you. And to be quite honest, you’re hoping he’s wrong. To see him on his knees, groveling, begging for a touch, a taste. It’s a sight you want to engrave in your memory. You realize in this moment that you’re just as much of a freak as he is, finding pleasure out of this fucked up situation.
Toji studies you carefully, trying to see if he can get a glimpse of an outline, shape, or color. He’s not ashamed to admit he’s familiar with the panties he stole from you. You haven’t accused him yet of specifics, but he can guarantee that whatever your suspicions are, they’re absolutely right. He’s sullied them in all the ways he can think of. But this is something he never dreamed could actually come true. First and foremost, you absolutely despise him, for good reason. Even he can admit to himself that he’s a terrible roommate. He knew he’d eventually get caught, he wasn’t exactly being discrete about it. It was always there, your bedroom door wide open, waiting to be snatched up. In his fucked-up mind, he saw it as an invitation. You were too dumb to notice it before, but he always figured you’d catch on. His secret would be exposed, get the cops called on him, maybe get a smack in the face or restraining order, no big deal. But this right here is an outcome straight from his wet dreams. You in front of him, on the verge of spreading yourself open upon finding out the truth, wantingto be fucked. Being a complete degenerate has finally paid off for Toji.
After what seems like hours of him contemplating, you clear your throat to regain his attention. “Final answer?”
He’s got a one and five shot of getting it. There’s no way he can tell what you’re actually wearing, no matter how hard he tries to manifest x-ray vision. So, he makes an educated guess based on his own personal favorite of the bunch. It’s a tough choice to make, considering he likes them all. The silk ones were the first he stole from you. It feels so good on his cock, smooth and luscious on his skin. The cheeky pair is fun because he imagines you parading around in it, your ass bubbly and bouncy as he pictures himself admiring each cheek with a hard slap. Despite all the options, there’s still one that reigns supreme in his head. “The pink thongs,” he finally answers.
The pervert likes the ones with the least fabric, big shocker. You mimic a wrong buzzer sound, shaking your head at him. “Nope, you lose.” Lifting the hem of your dress up, you reveal the lacey black underwear, the one you caught him with. “Guess you’ll just have to watch.”
He sucks air through his teeth, breathing out, “Fuck.” His hand hovers over his briefs, palming his boner. “You’re a fucking slut, aren’t you?”
You slip your hand beneath the fabric, middle finger circling your already aching clit. “Takes one to know one.”
It surprises you when he actually does get down on his knees, getting as close to you as possible without making contact, rubbing himself faster. “You gonna make a mess for me?”
“Only if you do it first.” You gaze at his hand, obscuring the cock you’ve been dying to see for yourself. “Show me how big you are.”
“Fuck,” he swears again, shrugging his briefs down his thighs. His cock is sprung against his abdomen, bigger than you imagined. The tip leaks with precum, veins prominent on the shaft, his balls hung heavy. Your brain turns to mush as touch yourself, thinking about how good he’d feel completely unsheathed inside you.
“Am I big enough for you?” he grunts, stroking himself with a tight fist, his forearm flexed.
You nod, spreading yourself wider, your wetness starting to seep through the lace. “Even bigger.”
“You think about this cock?” He massages his balls in his other hand, saliva practically drooling out the corners of his lips. “Fuck yourself to it?”
“All the time,” you tell him, dipping your finger in your wet cunt, smearing arousal on your clit.
He laughs, his voice getting huskier the closer he gets to his limit. “I bet you do. Smelled it all over your panties. Tasted it.”
Asshole. An absolute deviant. Depraved and disgusting human being. It’s all so fucking filthy and you like it. You’re getting off to it. It drives you crazy when he admits it, the mere thought of your dirty underwear in his mouth. His debaucherous nature has clearly rubbed off on you, and at this point, you’re too far gone to ever go back to normal. Hell, the two of you aren’t even touching each other and this is still some of the hottest sex you’ve ever had. Some of your guilt for being equally as weird as him is absolved by the fact that you’re not crossing that line of actually fucking one another. Not yet at least. For now, you can live with that.
You jerk against your hand, needing to feel more. Toji groans, “Are you close?”
Unable to verbalize your response, you nod, bucking your hips faster.
“Show me,” he demands. “Show me how wet that pussy is.”
You hook your finger on the crotch of the panty, revealing yourself to him, cunt shiny and glistening. All of it for Toji.
This does it. He curses, lifting his shirt up, wrist working overtime as he orgasms on himself, cum shooting out onto his chiseled six-pack. It’s enough to push you over the edge; you rub yourself through it until your panties are soaked.
He relaxes, pulling his briefs back on slowly, using the hem of his shirt to wipe himself off. You watch him as he stands up, staring at you still on display for him. You smile, removing your hand from the mess you made, fiddling with the waistband. “Want a consolation prize?”
He scoffs, trying to contain his excitement at this unexpected offer. “Are you serious?”
You shrug as you slide the panties off, tossing it over to him to catch. “Yeah. It’s pretty hot knowing you get off to this kind of shit.”
Toji plays it cool, walking away with them in his hands and leaving with a quiet, “Goodnight.” An hour later, he’s sucking on the fabric saturated with his saliva and your cum as he fucks his fleshlight, desperately wishing it was you.
You always love watching Nanami test out his new gadgets in the kitchen. He’s a different type of sorcerer when he’s in here. A dish towel draped over his shoulder, an apron tied securely around his waist, his brows relaxed, a soft smile on his face. His mission finished early tonight, so he finally has a chance to put his new pasta maker to use to prepare dinner for the two of you. As he carefully feeds his first sheet of freshly rolled dough through the cutter, his tongue sticking out ever-so-slightly in concentration, you can’t help but giggle at him as you watch from the kitchen sink, removing the gloves from your hands. His gaze meets yours briefly, his smile growing when he catches you. “What’s so funny?”
You turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. “Nothing. You’re just so focused.”
“I don’t want to mess this up,” he states, the pasta coming out in beautiful strands draped over his palm.
You step closer to him, marveling at his work. “Looks perfect.”
“Well, we have to see how it tastes. I think I kneaded it too much,” he huffs, carefully twisting the noodles into a pile, setting it aside to make more. He’s always his own worst critic.
“Can I help with anything else?” you offer, looking around for something to do.
“Could you please add a bit more salt to the water? And please check that the sauce is at a low simmer.”
Understanding your duties, you turn to the stove. You open your salt cellar and pinch a generous amount to sprinkle into the already boiling water. Beside it, you inspect the homemade tomato sauce which he’s perfected, the scent of garlic strong, just the way the both of you like it.
“Okay,” he announces, standing stiffly with two heaps of pasta in both his hands, as if carrying precious treasure. “We’re ready.”
You make room for him, not wanting to disturb the master at work. Finding something else to do, you leave him to sneak off to the balcony, where you quickly snip a few leaves of basil from your mini herb garden, expecting him to be looking for it shortly after he’s finished cooking. You take a short moment to admire it, remembering fondly the times the two of you spent out here together, making this place home.
When you return to the kitchen, Nanami has already cooked the noodles and is now expertly swirling it in the pan with the sauce. The smell is incredible, and so is the sight of your husband with a pleased look on his face, satisfied with his creation. You retrieve two plates, placing them beside him on the counter. He serves a portion on each plate, then conjures a pair of long metal chopsticks to twirl it into a lovely shape. With the corner of a paper towel, he wipes any excess splatter around the edges. He searches frantically, until he sees you presenting him with the basil. He instantly relaxes, smiling at you. “Thank you, sweetheart.” This time, he uses a pair of cooking tweezers to meticulously place the garnish atop, completing his masterpiece.
He stands there proudly as you admire his work, already snapping too many pictures of it to show off to your peers. “It’s gorgeous, honey!” you rave at him, giving him the biggest grin.
This time, he accepts the compliment, blushing slightly. “Thank you, my love,” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Shall we?”
He takes the plates to the dinner table while you retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of Chianti you’ve been saving for special occasions like this. You sit across from each other, give thanks for the meal, and dig in, Nanami waiting for you to take the first bite to see your reaction. The second it’s in your mouth, you can’t help but close your eyes and let out a soft moan, in utter bliss. It’s luscious and rich, the sauce coating your tongue in an explosion of flavor. How he manages to create such depth with just a few simple ingredients continues to blow your mind. You savor it, chewing slowly, appreciating the perfect tenderness of the noodles that he made all by hand. The love and care he put into it is evident in the texture, the taste, the presentation, every single little detail.
You pamper him with compliments, which he unabashedly welcomes, sipping his wine between bites with a small grin on his face. And when you’ve just about licked your plate clean, you give him a big smile, holding your hand out to touch his. “Thank you for all the hard work you put into making this wonderful meal.”
He brushes his thumb over your knuckles, gazing at you. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
You scoff, knowing that’s untrue. “I didn’t do anything.”
Memories of Nanami’s life before you flash through his head. Half empty take-out containers in his refrigerator, a variety of instant ramen wrappers discarded in the trash can, the loneliness of eating alone on the kitchen counter. It was mundane, all of it just enough to sustain himself another day. It was never worth it to explore a new recipe, for him to buy groceries he would have to eventually throw out because it would go bad before he could use all of it. With you, however, he feels motivated. Inspired.
He smiles at you, leaning in closer, his hold on you tightening. “You’re the reason I enjoy doing this. You make it worth doing.”
Ever since you introduced your sweet, innocent boyfriend to your sex toys, he's been absolutely fascinated ever since. It took a while for Choso to be brave enough to actually start using them on you, though. He was always afraid of user error, breaking it, or ruining the vibe with his clumsiness. Part of him was also a little jealous that these gadgets could get you off as hard as he does. But over time, he realized that the sex toys and him could work together as one giant fucking machine to pleasure you.
It starts with the humble vibrator. Based on trial and error, he has come to the conclusion that if he fucks you silly while he presses it max speed on your clit, you will squirt for him without fail. There are far too many ruined bedsheets to support this theory. He loves how loud you get when you're moaning his name, covering him in your wetness. It's one of his favorite toys to use on you, not too complicated, and gets the job done.
The other one he's really into lately is the classic dildo. He's way too jealous to share you in a threesome, but he's obsessed with the idea of filling up all your holes. Like really obsessed. Gets him off harder than most other things. He likes to start with your mouth first, his cock shoved to the back of your throat while you pump the lubed-up dildo in and out of your cunt. You've got a butt plug in, prepping your hole for later. Once you swallow his first load, he spreads you out on top of his face, eating you out while he watches you lick your own cum off that dildo. The two of you do this until he's hard again. You straddle him and sink down, his dick sliding easily inside you, pussy drenched from your multiple orgasms, hole still puckered around that plug. His tongue fills your mouth this time, drinking you up while you ride him. And, of course, he has to fill your womb up with his cum.
Finally, with one orgasm left in him, he gets behind you, carefully pulls the plug out, sucks on it a little bit, then starts eating your ass. At this point, you're jelly, complying to every deranged thing he wants to do to you. He licks at your rim until he's hard again, using his spit to lubricate it. Then, he fucks you in the ass, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth while you fuck your pussy with the dildo. It's quite the process, but by the end of it, you're completely filled to the brim with him and the both of you are in an otherworldly state of bliss.
You always knew your precious Choso had a freaky side to him. And all it took was a couple of toys to bring it out of him.
cw: smut - masturbation, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, cum play
Author’s Note: Wow, this is yet another fic that’s been sitting in my drafts unfinished! I hope you enjoy this! It’s been a minute since I last caught up with Haikyuu, but yes, I am still very much smitten with Coach Ukai lol. Enjoy! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
This year, you started your new role as faculty advisor to Nekoma High’s boys’ volleyball club. Ittetsu Takeda, a colleague from the rival school Karasuno, recently convinced you to take on the job, claiming it’s one of the most rewarding experiences he’s had the pleasure of partaking in. You’ve finally gotten the hang of being a teacher and you were looking for something new to do, something to put spark back into your mundane life. You figured why not?
What you didn’t expect was to adopt this unofficial rivalry with Karasuno’s assistant coach, Keishin Ukai. Takeda briefed you on it, something about being “destined rivals” and “crows vs. cats”. Blonde streaks in his hair, empty piercings in his ears, that terrible smoking habit of his. Yeah, you knew he was trouble from the start.
So why the hell are you so drawn to him?
You haven’t spent much time with Coach Ukai alone, casually passing each other in tournaments, exchanging quick glances and small head nods. He’ll greet you formally, then smirk at you to say something clever about beating your team in that competitive nature of his. His passion in coaching is evident on the court, so naturally, you’re curious what he’s like off it.
Your first summer training camp is finally here. You’ve heard all about this from Takeda, who was excited to set it up in the first place. For the first few days, it’ll be just Karasuno and Nekoma. This whole setup in Tokyo has become a tradition that the players look forward to, so of course, you do all you can to make sure it runs smoothly. Being the only female adult on this trip, you luckily manage to score a room all to yourself. And while you enjoy the private space, it’s a bit too lonely in here that you find yourself spending your free time in the club managers’ room with the girls, discussing strategy and their studies.
When it’s bedtime for the teens, you take a quick bath before sneaking off to join Takeda at a small bar down the street. He had texted you earlier that evening, asking if you wanted to grab a drink to celebrate the success of day 1. Wanting to debrief with your only confidant on this trip, you agree, excited to see him. But when you spot Coach Ukai sitting across from your friend, piercings in, hair down from his shower, donning a set of black sweats, you can’t help but suddenly feel cautious about the outfit you decided to throw on: a ratty old Nekoma t-shirt and leggings. Still, you sit next to Takeda, greeting the both of them with a wave and a smile, trying to make any lewd thoughts coming into your mind disappear.
Takeda orders a round for the table along with some appetizers to share. He shares his words of wisdom with you, which you take in like an eager student. All the while, Ukai sips his beer silently, popping pieces of chicken karaage in his mouth in between.
When Takeda excuses himself to use the bathroom, there’s a second of awkward silence before Ukai jokes, “Are you tired of him yet?”
You shake your head. “Not at all. He’s teaching me a lot.”
“Yeah, he’s good at that.” He finishes the last of his alcohol, setting the empty glass down on the table.
You clear your throat, unsure what else to say. “So…do you like doing these summer training camps?”
He shrugs, leaning back against his hands. Your eyes flit to the silver metal of his piercing, the image of your tongue swirling around it briefly flashing across your dirty mind. “They’re okay. The kids like it, so that’s good. But it gets a little boring sometimes.”
“What would make it more exciting for you?” Your beer is only half finished, though you feel heat surrounding your face as if you’re tipsy, the words tumbling out of your mouth almost too quickly.
He looks directly at you, something gleaming in his gaze, and smirks, sending an odd sensation down towards your navel. “I don’t know yet. Maybe you can help me figure that out.”
You’re this close to pouncing on him when Takeda returns, clapping his hands to snap you out of it. “Alright! Let’s head back!”
~~~
Back in your room, tucked in and ready for bed, Ukai’s words keep replaying over and over in your head. Maybe you can help me figure that out. What did he mean by that? Was that a simple answer to your simple question? Or was he trying to imply something? Based on the way he was looking at you, all sexy and mysterious like, you want to think he was definitely hinting at something. Whatever he meant by that, it doesn’t stop your fantasies from playing out in your head. Soon, your fingers are in your panties, rubbing small circles on your clit, imagining Coach Ukai’s tongue down there instead. The way he’d smirk at you as his lips surround you, slurping and sucking. He looks so sexy with his hair down, the blonde strands scattered messily across his forehead. You bet he’s huge based on the way he wears those sweats, heavy and thick, the perfect size to fill you up…
You come fast, stripping the blanket off to find much needed relief in the sweltering heat. Sweat covers you almost completely and you lay there in postcoital bliss, staring up at the ceiling, immediately guilty for being a pervert that touches themselves to their work colleague.
After you change into a clean pair of underwear, shoving your wet panties barely aside, you leave your room one last time for some fresh air, hoping that will bring you back to your senses. You rush out the door, breathing in the breeze through your nostrils.
“Hey.”
You whip around to find Ukai standing outside, a burning cigarette between his fingers. He tosses it to the ground, stomping it out with his slides. He’s wearing the same black sweats as earlier, though this time, he’s in just a white tank top, showing off his surprisingly chiseled biceps.
You stop in your tracks, staring at him, responding with a quiet, “Hey.”
He grins, taking a few steps towards you. “Can’t sleep either?”
You swallow hard. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.”
Ukai stuffs his hand in his pockets, staring up at the moon, the bright glow of it illuminating on his irises. “So damn hot in my room. Too many people in there.”
Without really thinking about it, you blurt out, “Well, I’ve got a whole room to myself, if you need some more space.”
He smirks at you, raising a curious brow. “Are you sure that’s appropriate, Senpai?”
Heat pools in your belly, spurred by his words and that naughty, gorgeous smile of his. “We have a long day tomorrow. It’s important we get proper rest, right?” You cross your arms over your chest, avoiding his gaze by looking straight ahead. “And maybe it’ll make this trip more exciting for you.”
He’s really close now, behind you, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “Yeah, I think it will.”
You grab his hand, leading him back inside. He follows you down the corridor, pressing a finger to his lips as you pass the men’s sleeping quarters, rumbling with a symphony of snores and heavy breathing. You understand now why Ukai can’t fall asleep and you’re wondering how Takeda manages.
Once you’re both in your room, he removes his shoes, laying them neatly to the side. You look at him, not sure what to do next, who should make the next move, if this is really going to happen. And before you know it, he’s on you, both his hands cupping your face in an intense kiss. You stumble backwards, leading him to your bed, moaning into his mouth as his licks inside you, hungry and aggressive just as you imagined he’d be.
“You sure you about this, Senpai?” he asks, kissing along your neck.
You rub the piercings in his ears, hissing out, “Yes. Fuck yes.”
He chuckles, hands drifting down to the waistband of your bottoms, tugging at them slightly. “Did you think about me tonight?”
“Yes.” You give him a wicked smirk, reaching over to show him your panties from earlier, the wet spot of cum still visible. “I even touched myself thinking of you. Coach.”
His eyes widen, staring at the evidence of your dirty deed. “Fuck, you’re such a bad girl.” He surrounds you, kissing your fiercely, rubbing the hard-on strained in his pants against you. “I want to fuck you so bad, been wanting to for a while now.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs his sweats and boxers off at the same time, revealing his hard cock. “Think about you all the time while I jerk myself off.”
His admission sends you into a frenzy. You wrap your legs around him, trying to touch as much of him as possible. “Fuck me, Keishin. Please fuck me.”
He groans, his hands gripped tightly around your waist. “I know baby, but I don’t have any condoms.”
Somehow, this sense of reason gets through to you, so you relent a bit, unable to contain your disappointment. “Yeah, you’re right.”
He nuzzles your neck, trailing kisses down your body as he slides your bottoms off your legs slowly. “But I can still make you come.”
You watch him with glossy eyes as he spreads your legs open, lapping up your arousal. He stretches one hand up, reaching for the soiled panties in your grasp. You hand it to him, moaning when he wraps it around the base of his cock, stroking himself with it.
After three orgasms from him just eating you out like a man starved, he finally reaches his limit. He surfaces, sitting on his knees over you, fucking his fist until he comes all over your swollen clit.
“Show me how you touch yourself,” he rasps, shaking out the last spurts of his climax.
Lost in a daze, you swirl his cum around your clit, making yourself come one more time while he watches you.
Safe to say, this has been a very exciting first day of summer training camp. You’re looking forward to what tomorrow brings.
cw: mentions of pregnancy, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, PIV sex (missionary), breeding, creampie
Author’s Note: Okay, so I started this three months ago and just remembered it sitting in my drafts waiting to be finished, so this is appropriately titled "No Rush", haha. Enjoy :) divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
“3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!” You hear the muffled cheers of your friends downstairs, clinking their champagne flutes to celebrate the start of 2025. Someone is blowing enthusiastically into a noisemaker, most likely Satoru, while someone else pops another bottle of champagne, most likely Shoko. Soon, the music gets turned up louder and the party below you resumes. Meanwhile, you and your husband have excused yourselves to commemorate this special moment a little bit differently.
“Fuck, Kento,” you moan, an iron grip on his blonde hair as he eats you out sloppily into your second orgasm of the night.
His tongue swirls around you, two fingers expertly pumping in and out of your wet cunt. He moans against you, the vibrations reverberating on your already throbbing clit. “That’s it, sweetheart. Again. Give it to me again.” He bucks his hips slowly, hand wrapped around his hard cock, fucking his fist. Precum leaks from the tip, shiny and glossy, your mouth salivating for a taste.
You weren’t planning to abandon your own party, but after what Nanami admitted to you in the kitchen just fifteen minutes before midnight, you couldn’t help yourself.
“Want to know my new year’s resolution?” he asked, a sly grin on his face.
You give him an angelic smile, expecting a normal, totally innocent answer. “What?”
He leaned in close, pressed himself to you, voice low and quiet for only you to hear. “Get you pregnant.”
It surprised you. While you’ve been ready for a while now, Nanami has always been hesitant about the idea of children. He didn’t want to raise a family while he was still a sorcerer. Even with his recent retirement, you chose not to mention anything about it, not wanting to put any pressure on him. So, when he admitted that to you so casually surrounded by all your friends, you became overwhelmed with emotion, enough to pull him up the stairs to talk about it in the privacy of your bedroom. Talking led to happy tears, happy tears led to affectionate touching, and well…here you are now, getting your pussy devoured by your very eager and horny husband.
You come for him, melting into the sheets, dazed from the pleasure. You can feel him smile as he gives you a few more licks, pulling his fingers out from you, coated in your cum, licking them clean. “You taste so good,” he purrs, stroking his cock faster. He slaps it against your sensitive clit, smearing spit and slick all over you, teasing the tip into your needy cunt. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”
Every inch of you buzzes with excitement, yearning for him to be inside you, to be filled up by him. “Your cock,” you answer, voice trembling.
He bites his lip, pushing himself a little deeper, a wild, hungry gleam in his eyes. “And what do you want me to do with this cock?”
You swallow hard. “Fuck me. Get me pregnant.”
He growls, unable to resist himself, plunging deep inside you. You wrap your legs tightly around him, latching yourself as close as possible to him. He kisses you deeply, his tongue sloppy against yours, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic. The bed creaks noisily below you, both your moans growing louder and uncontrollable while the party downstairs continues to distract your guests. It’s you and Nanami, joined as one, the commitment of starting a family together fueling the both of you into this lustful frenzy.
His orgasm is one of the most intense he’s ever had, cock pulsating like crazy as he releases every drop inside you. He stays in you, kissing you softly now, coming down from his high slowly. “Not yet,” he says, even though you make no efforts to separate from his embrace. He says it with such gentleness, wanting to relish this moment a while longer before returning to your friends.
You kiss him on the forehead, smiling while you nuzzle your nose to him. “Yeah. No rush.”
Author's Note: I know it’s been way too long since I’ve posted or written anything, but I do have a small life update: I’m engaged! And I’m happy to say that this little piece is inspired by true events. 💗 Enjoy! Divider credits to the lovely @/cafekitsune.
“Let’s watch the sunrise when we’re in Hawaii.”
It’s an unexpected suggestion coming from your boyfriend, who values sleep more than anyone else you know and is rarely ever willing to get up earlier than he really needs to. But Nanami insists, even when you raise a brow at him with a smirk, doubting him with an unconvinced, “Are you serious?”
The two of you are tucked under the covers in bed, about ready to sleep. He turns on his side to face you, a small smile on his face. “I’ve been wanting to do that ever since our trip last year. I hear the sunrises in Hawaii are beautiful.”
You study his expression carefully. For some reason, you’re suspicious. You’re not sure of what exactly, but there’s a small part of you that thinks he’s up to something. Though, you don’t want to get your hopes up in case that small part of you is wrong.
You’ve been together for over a decade now. While some may see that as way too long without marriage, the both of you have been happy and unbothered to go at your own pace. Nanami’s career as a sorcerer was always unpredictable, making it complicated to plan for the future. Now that he’s retired, it seems you’re both finally ready to take the next step. Right before the new year started, the two of you casually went ring shopping together, trying on different stones and settings until you found one that you fell in love with. Nanami made sure to take various pictures from all angles, memorizing the exact style that made your eyes sparkle. Even after that, you haven’t been convinced that it will happen anytime soon. The last thing you want to do is to put pressure on him. And the last thing you want to feel after a nice vacation in Hawaii is disppointed if it doesn’t happen.
So, you keep your expectations non-existent, excited to just spend a few days in paradise with the love of your life. Without pressing further, you agree to his idea, snuggling up against his chest. “Okay, sweetie. That sounds good.”
You continue not to speculate his newfound motivation for the next week, even when he shows the location of a random beach fifteen minutes from where you’re staying, telling you that’s where he wants to watch the sunrise and asking if you could find a good restaurant to eat nearby afterwards. Or when he comes home from work with a bag of new clothes and shoes, claiming he wants to look especially nice on this trip. Or when he keeps on mentioning how everyone from Gojo to his mother keep on pestering him about proposing, to which he rolls his eyes and vehemently maintains that it’s not going to happen yet. Sure, maybe there’s an inkling of hope deep down, but again, you remind yourself not to expect anything. It’ll be another lovely vacation, that is all.
It's only when you’re literally walking on the beach in the golden glow of the Hawaiian sunrise, Nanami leading you along the shore, that your little hunch becomes palpable.
“What’s that?” he asks, pointing at a pristine seashell laid purposely on the rocks.
“A seashell!” you respond, giving him the obvious answer, smiling at him.
He grins, guiding you towards it. “Flip it over.”
Once again, you don’t question him, heart beating rapidly in your chest, bending down to reach for the shell. Tiny waves splash over your sandals, the bottom of your skirt getting soaked with ocean water. When you turn it over, your breath catches as you read the short message written in bold ink, unmistakable. Marry me?
You stare at it, blinking to make sure it isn’t in your imagination. This time, you do question him. “Are you serious? Are you serious?!”
And when you turn to look at him, he’s on one knee, sinking into the wet sand beneath him, holding the ring out to you. “Well, will you?”
It takes you a moment to process it all, but eventually, through tears, you nod emphatically at him, watching him slide the band onto your finger. “Yes!” you say, as he stands up, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You sob into his chest, repeating your answer over and over.
“I love you so much, so so much,” he whispers, kissing you on the forehead, holding your face in his hands to wipe away the tears streaming down your cheeks.
Your fiancé was totally right; sunrises in Hawaii are truly the most beautiful.
not gonna lie, I’m actually really quite happy with how this turned out HAHAHAH. i added versions where it’s sand and sea or just the sea (my fave is the turquoise version). as always, they all work on light and dark mode ! i hope you guys like it !
feel free to use; please like, reblog, and credit〜
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