✦ ⌇ 🗒️ AUTHOR’S NOTE enjoy this smut :p this post includes (light) bondage, size kink, praise kink, degradation kink, body worship, breeding kink, name calling (whore, slut, good boy, sweet boy, etc), marking, and pain play! read at your own risk (˶˃⤙˂˶)
satoru gojo’s eyes light up with pure delight when you whimper it, his cock twitching hard against your hole. “too big, huh? fuck, say it again,” he breathes, pressing just the fat head in and holding it there so you feel every inch of stretch. he loves how small you look under him, how your body struggles to take him. “good boy, so tight for me. look at your pretty hole trying to swallow me—you can take it, yeah? gonna make you feel so full you forget your own name.”
kento nanami keeps your wrists pinned above your head with one firm hand, the other guiding his thick cock against your entrance. when you say it’s too big he hums low, not stopping but slowing to a torturous pace. “breathe through it,” he murmurs, voice steady and commanding. “i’ve got you tied down so nicely… you don’t have to do anything but feel me open you up. relax for me, love. let me control every inch.”
suguru geto smiles that soft, dangerous smile as he kisses down your chest, tongue tracing every ridge of muscle. “too big for my sweet boy?” he coos, rubbing his heavy cock along your hole teasingly. he pushes in slow, savoring how you open for him. “look how well you’re taking me already… such a perfect little hole. i’m going to ruin you so gently, make you crave being stretched like this every night.”
toji fushiguro chuckles dark and mean, shoving another thick inch in despite your words. “too big? tough shit, slut. your ass is clenching like it wants to milk me dry.” he grips your hips hard enough to bruise, pounding forward in short, powerful thrusts. “gonna fill this tight little hole until you’re leaking my cum. cry about how big i am while i breed you proper.”
choso kamo’s eyes go hazy with need the second you say it. he leans down and sinks his teeth into your shoulder, sucking a deep mark while he rocks deeper. “r-really? mmgh,” he whimpers hoarsely, voice trembling with restraint. he keeps biting and sucking fresh bruises along your neck and chest as he works himself in. “..need to mark you everywhere while i stretch you open… so everyone knows who this body belongs to.”
sukuna ryomen laughs loud and cruel, two hands spreading your thighs wider while another wraps around your throat. “good. i want it to hurt,” he growls, slamming another brutal inch inside you. he squeezes your neck just enough to make you dizzy, eyes glowing as he watches your face twist. “scream for me, little whore. the more it hurts, the harder i get. you’re not done until i’ve split you wide open.”
oml hubby!nanamin reminding you to breathe during smex!
sorry for such the long hiatus loves :((
“where do you feel me baby? tell me.” you nails dug into the back of the man currently fucking the shit out of you, to the point where you were incoherent. your thighs pressed against your sweat glazed torso, his hips harshly colliding with yours, hitting the deepest and most sensitive spots you have.
“mmm! n-hereeeee!” you weakly moved one of your hands to your womb. he smiles, kissing your lips and then making home on your sensitive neck. where his moans and groans went straight to your ear.
nanami makes LOVE. he never fucks.
he wants you to lose yourself in the pleasure he gives you, always to the point where you’re overstimulated and almost can’t take it.
one thing nanami always noticed was how you don’t breathe whenever you guys have sex. it’s not like when you ask him to slightly choke you, or when he shifts his weight on top of you when you guys are in prone bone. it’s whenever you guys are intimate in general, he has to stop and remind you every time :(
“baby, baby. breathhhe.” he halts his hips, holding your face so your gaze is only focusing on him. not even a second passed and you’re gasping in and out, tears cradling down your brown cheeks. “there you go baby, there you go..” he slowly picks up his thrusts again, causing you to whine and whimper. trying your best not to fall into the habit of holding your breath again.
“m’gunna cuhmmm n-nana!” — “that’s my good girl. y-yeaa.” the knot in your stomach about to burst. his tip constantly hitting that spot that makes you feel dizzy. “it’s t’much!”
you whined. pushing against nanami’s abdomen, attempting to halt his thrusts for a moment. but he didn’t let up. “uh, uh baby. let out for me, let it out for your nana.” grabbing your wrists, and pinning it above your head.
the knot in your stomach snaps. squirting all over your husbands and thighs, coating them with your essence. it wasn’t too long until nanami reached his high. quickly pulling out and finishing on your stomach.
“did so good for me baby,” he lifted his hand from your wrist, using it to caress the side of your face.
after years of back breaking labor, curse fighting and anguish, all the ex-salaryman could wish for was a happy marriage, time off, and maybe a kid or two (or three).
nanami kento can't help but flush when he sees you in your signature apron. it's beyond worn (courtesy of it being an old hand me down) and you often have to ignore the copious amounts of stains adorning the flimsy fabric. the homemade nature of it, the fact that no one else has seen you in it is what turns him on. you think he's a perv.
one of nanami kento's favorite pastimes is washing your hair. something about the strands trailing between his fingers, coiling 'round, his guiding hand tilting your head back to prevent any shampoo from getting in your eyes, watching the suds drift down your naked figure... it's beyond erotic.
nanami kento is horniest on lazy days. days where there's no deadlines, overtime to be worked, not a single opportunity for his alone time with you to be interrupted.
it doesn't mean he takes you like an animal or pounds you into the mattress; he'd rather pick up another shift than do that.
it means he takes his time, savors every drop of your lust like never before. tears spring to your eyes, not from pain or glum, but from tantalizing pleasure; from your lover taking care of you in way no one else has, or could; from tens of lengthy orgasms, each more toe-curling than the last, spanning the entire morning.
"k-kennn," you whimper, voice fraying at the edges. he could cum just from that, your broken voice calling out for him so sweetly.
"mhm?" he mutters it against your skin, head tucked in the crook of your neck while he grinds into you in mating press.
the bed is creaking, shuddering against you and nanami's combined weight. his hair a mess, lean body braced over you, he's so close you could cry.
"feels so good-hic!" you moan, filthy noises flowing freely, not even sure of what you're saying. his strokes, so slow and soft, dragging against your soaked folds, have turned you into a whimpering, shaky mess.
"who's making you feel good, hm?" god, that tone. there's a twinge of mocking yet he's still tender. a dark cloud lowers over his gaze, a mean, lustful energy peering it's head.
"you!" instantly he groans, a lengthy vibration that echoes in your head.
adjusting himself, his arms wrap around yours like vines, entangling your fingers together. he shushes you when you scream into his ear, moving to rest his forehead on yours.
"feels good when i do this"—punctuating his thrust, he moves his hips to be flush against yours, cock head nuzzling your weeping cervix — "doesn't it, darling?"
"mhm mhm, yes!" escaping from his grasp, your hands find purchase in his hair, the sheets, his back, anything you can get a hold of. he thrusts especially hard when you pinch his back; angry red stripes bloom underneath your nails, leaving a white-hot trail of pleasure in their wake.
"shiiit, doll," he groans, booming voice cracking. his domineering energy wilts for a second, a moment of vulnerability. even through your lust, you can see he's about to cum.
together, you release, his earth shattering orgasm sending you over the edge.
it's a miracle the bed doesn't break from beneath you. all of his weight is bearing down on you, pinning you to the sticky sheets. his motions only now falter, hips stuttering as they make you clench harder.
for a long moment, the only sound is heavy breathing. he's the one to break it, getting up to carry your soaking form to the shower.
"was it good for you?" he asks, usual fond tone returning.
"what do you think?" you moan, words a little slurred. the ghost of a smirk tugs against his lips, clearly amused by your antics.
nanami kento who's the king of aftercare. not a single bruise, scratch or tear goes unnoticed. he's geared up with ointment and the safety kit, prepared to tend to your every need. you tease him for being dramatic, but he knows that you secretly love it.
"can a man not care for his wife?" he muses.
nanami kento who loves cooking for you, or the other way around. from the simplest sandwiches to filling beef wellington, anything you desire can be made. crave it and he'll make it.
adoration swells in him when you compliment his food, mouth full of whatever divinity he just cooked up.
nanami kento who's the best partner in the world. other husbands figuratively bow their heads in shame when he walks in. he's a strong believer in never going to bed angry, opening every door and, most importantly, his wife's pleasure.
he wishes he could crumple into the floor and die.
always composed, wise beyond his years and with more strength in his left pinky toe than your entire body, nanami kento is crumbling. he'd rather die than admit it's because he can't dirty talk to save his life.
long fingers buried to the hilt, glasses foggy and naked from the waist up, he can't utter a single word.
"what's wrong, ken?" instead of lying flat on your back enjoying foreplay, you're sitting up trying to soothe your sweet boyfriend.
"i don't know. this is just..."
"new? different? did i do something?"
"no! i'm not sure how to articulate this but, i'm— ugh," he pauses, mouth wobbling from like a shitty jeep.
"i'm nervous." it takes him a full minute to finish the sentence. his hazel eyes are to the floor, clammy and avoiding your worry miserably.
despite what it may look like, for a guy who can't even watch porn without blushing, he's handling this surprisingly well. you'd never tell him that though, lest you want him to die of embarrassment.
"i don't want to turn you off because i said the wrong thing."
"just try to say something. i won't laugh."
"...promise?"
"promise."
"uh," he starts, voice already quaking, "you're so hot. damn."
you regret promising you wouldn't laugh. should a snort count?
"okay, keep going."
"i love you. like a lot." confidence peaking, he stutters out fuller sentences.
"thank you for letting me take care of you, for allowing me to please you." as he goes on, his words become more and more formal. maybe it's nerves, maybe it's his true nerd nature showing.
his hand has slipped out of you, now resting on the bed while the other clutches the sheets. your hand crawls closer to his, eventually engulfing his with the tenderness only a lover could show.
sex is long forgotten at this point. your attention has shifted to kento, reduced to a meek, inexperienced version of his usual self. "that was beautiful, ken."
"really? i was mumbling anything that came to my head."
"shut up and take the compliment. for my sake, please."
his mouth shuts on an empty phrase. you lean down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead because teasing him a little couldn't hurt.
"and that's why i love you."
you've learned two things from this session: one, nanami kento is more sexually awkward than a nerd fresh out of college. two, you should probably warn him before trying anything spicier than cuddling and makeouts.
masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred
a/n: btw i was thinking of this image while writing part of this
he looks down in shame. and ryomen sukuna is never ashamed of anything he’s done, and he’s done a lot of shit.
“that asshole was putting his hands on you” he huffs and looks at your chest instead of your eyes “so yes, again” you’ve never looked this visibly annoyed, and what was scaring him even more is how calm your voice was.
“look at me, not my tits ryomen” you narrow your eyes, he immediately looks up “yes ma’am” you grab his collar and the security turns a blind eye(he’s been getting on their nerves also)
“when I say no stupid shit, that means no-” you give him a hard slap “-jail, got it?” he just nods his face didn’t even budge, of course you don’t intend to harm your husband and you’re not abusive. sometimes with ryomen sukuna you literally need to smack some sense into him.
“yes ma’am” he nods again, “can you bail me now?” you roll your eyes “im not picking you up again, call choso” ryomens eyebrows knit together in annoyance “but i want you to pick me up” if anyone didn’t know any better, he’s whining for you to pick him up.
“no ryo” he tilts his head and subconsciously pouts then leans in “cmon woman, stop being a brat” his words have no bite, but when you smile he scowls.
you take a deep sigh and close your eyes, “last time” “i promise baby” he smirks.
you both know this definitely isn’t the first, nor the last.
ps. ok pinky promise this is the last drabble after this ima finish two more request than boxer choso is coming😭 taglist : : @in-aa @chewiebee @applelite @crybabylulu @yassifie-d @ai-no-tegami @silverwfern @oksukuna
you hear the front door open before you see him. his footsteps are so quiet, like he’s trying not to wake you, even though it’s barely past six and the sun’s still clinging to the edge of the sky. you don’t bother calling out his name just yet. you just wait. you know he’ll come to you first thing he gets in the house.
and he does.
nanami appears in the doorway of the room with his tie half loosened and the sleeves of his dress shirt pushed up. he looks exhausted. his eyes find yours instantly, though, and something in his face eases. his gaze drops to your belly - rounded and steady beneath the oversized shirt you stole from him weeks ago.
he kneels beside the couch, not even bothering to take off his glasses, and places one warm hand over the swell of your stomach. the second his palm makes contact, you swear you feel the baby shift.
you smile. “they kicked earlier. kinda rude, honestly.”
he huffs out a quiet laugh, then presses a kiss just below your belly button, like he’s apologizing on their behalf. “must take after you, then.”
you swat at him, but he catches your hand easily and laces his fingers through yours. he’s been missing the feel of it all day. he leans forward to rest his forehead against your bump and goes still for a moment, perhaps he’s listening. breathing. grounding himself.
“long day?” you ask softly, brushing your thumb along the back of his hand.
he doesn’t answer right away. just shifts so he can rest his cheek on your hand instead, eyes closed. “too long. all i could think about was getting back to you and our baby, my love.”
you thread your fingers through his hair and scratch gently at his scalp, and the soft sound he makes nearly undoes you. he melts into your touch like he hasn’t been touched in days, even though you know he kissed you goodbye this morning and texted at lunch and called before his meeting to check up on you.
Toxic!Jack Abbot is really good at pushing your buttons.
cw: 18+ mdni, smut with tiny plot, jealousy, toxicity, age gap (mid 20s reader, 40 year old Abbot)
Jack Abbot felt so blessed to meet his match when he met his favorite fucking brat. Really, couldnt have asked for someone any sexier than someone who not only expected the world from him but questioned all his bullshit.
That included pulling up into the ambulance bay in that old rickety truck the old fuck claimed as his precious baby (second to you, of course). You left it fucking running, entering the place at six am with less than a fuck to give, foot steps hitting the floor in furry till you reached the hub. Lena gave you an amused knowing look, “couldn’t wait till he got home?”
“Would’ve ended up cursin Robby’s ass out too if I waited another fuckin second.” You grit, leaning against the desk, eyes moving through the busy ER like a tiger searching for its prey. He’s not hard to spot out either, you know his back like the back of your hand, could probably tell God herself where each freckle was placed and then some, every curl on his greying head of hair you knew. All you had to do was catch his eyes, point at him, and turn on your heels.
Had the man following you like the well trained yet bad little shit dog he was.
Jack couldn’t help but love to see you made every once in a while, see your hips switch with every step you took before cursing his ass clean out right outside, “You know and I let you have it last night and then I fucking remembered, ‘Why the fuck would I give a man who likes to entertain women a moment of peace?’ Huh?! It doesn’t even sound like me!”
“I don’t entertain-“
“Me hearing from your friend at your favorite bar that you’re smiling in bitches faces isn’t entertaining Abbot?” You squint, eyebrow cocked. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl, “You’re fuckin playin with me Jack.”
The end of his lip threatened to curve upward, hands up in defense, “I answer a few questions about my job-“
“—Oh, fuck off-“
“—It’s nothing more, nothing less ‘nd you know that. You think I’m asking them to feel me up? If they take it the wrong way, it’s not uo to me.”
You let out a laugh that doesn’t reach your eyes, you poke at his chest with your manicured nail hard enough he numbs back into the concrete of the building, “You wanna play, let’s play! Since you’re big shit!”
You’re already walking away and around the front of the car, Jacks head titling at your plump ass in the jeans he’s sure you used his card to buy just as your round the hood. That damn heart tramp stamp on your lower back he loved so much looking good as ever in the sun light that was starting to peak through— “If you come to my place after your shift I’ll stomp your ass out on the god damn curb Abbot!”
That’s what’s god the bastard smirking, “Please do baby doll! Like I haven’t had a rough enough shift, get me concussed so I can sleep good today.”
Your whip around, irked at how amused he is, “Matter of fact— don’t call till after I got to my ex’s party tonight! You know the one, on the east side with pent house?” You see your boyfriend’s jaw lock in real time, nodding along to your shit, you give him a wave with your fingers and a smile, “Thanks Jacky!”
You see his demeanor change in real time, tongue poking out his cheek, “Like hell you are [+].”
You’re already in the truck. Restarting it and turning up the music you were once playing, you fain confusion, “What was that?! I don’t think- I don’t think I heard you- the music!“
His voice deep with a warning of your name, footsteps creeping up to the open window of the passenger door.
“I’m sorry Jacky, I won’t interrupt your shift any longer.” You purse yout lips, blowing him a pretty middle finger as you swerve off.
No time for Abbot to even recover before an ambulance truck is pulling up.
You’re lucky you two love each other so much, lucky to have a man like Jack who would have you wide open and stuck in the rudest full nelson known to man just before you’re set to go to work, plunging his leaking thick cock till his breeder balls slapped against your gushing pussy lips.
Didn’t care how much you tried to ignore him when he used the key to you’re apartment, didn’t care that you were just to slick your curly hair into a low ponytail and the first things you said after he got out the shower was, “I’ll slap the shit out of you Abbot, get out my fuckin face.”
The bastard is deep inside you, brutal stroke after stroke through your gummy walls. Jacks calloused hands are under your knees, holding you tight as he rails up into you, your skin slapping together as you let out those sweet moans and whimpers he loves so much. His tongue goes up your neck to your earlobe, his husky voice housed in your ear, “No, no baby cakes, look at how pretty you’re making me, can you see it?”
You only sob out, letting him hike your knees to your elbows with his forearms, nudging your head down with the palm of his hand, head peering down to see just how much his cock is shining with your cum drenching him. And you can see it, every hungry and deep pump of his cock inside you. You hiccup, your hands over his and clawing at them,“Fuck Jack!
“Only you are making me like this pretty, nngh- only you can make me this hard.” The angle only making you wetter, strawberry top of his length nudging at your g-spot with every whack, whack, whack, into your pussy. He rolls his hips into you, eyes rolling into his skull, teeth nipping at your skin that will form little bruises later.
He groans, let’s out a breath as he feels his cock twitch, “Shit, I’m sorry honey, you know I’m sorry.”
“You’re not fuckin sorry,” you murmer out, head lulling back onto his shoulder, your cunt clenching and he accidentally slips out your heat, smacking ashint your thigh.
“You just always- mmph- talk. That’s all you do. Talk but you like me all riled up over you.” And Jack can hear it, the way you’re pouting, got every right to be angry, he knows that. And then he hears you let out a sharp inhale, a wet yet soft cry, “Think ‘m easy, makin me feel stupid.”
And Jack hates it, taking your chin in his hand, thumbing away a tear, “I do not think you’re easy or stupid, baby cakes. I’m stupid. Shouldn’t have had those girls near me like that. I’m sorry. You’re the only one I want to do everything with.”
You hiccup, leaning into his touch, letting him kiss your soft and full lips, eyes getting lost in his hazel eyes, “Just- I don’t like them touching you Jack. I- it should only be me.”
Shivers roll down his spine, “Only you baby, course it’s only you. Always you gorgeous.” His hand travels from your face, lips still locking with yours, his fingers circling your areolas, then tweaking them both. Living you gasp worthy kisses as he groped and kneads your breasts. “Gonna you everything you want baby, isn’t that what you want? Fuck- want everything I can give you? Hm?” You let out a moan in his mouth letting him slip his tongue in and wrapping around your tongue.
Jack pants, head resting against yours. “Come on sweetheart, put it back in for me.”
You stupidly nod, fumbling to get his rock hard member in your hand and rubbing it through your puffy pussy lips and against your fluttering hole. Your eyes squeeze shut, mouth agape as he pounds back into you. You can feel it pressing right up against your cervix, his pre sloshing around in your soaking pussing.
“Jaaack- aaangh- shit you’re so big Jack!”
His cock is spreading your fat pussy lips wide, bed rocking as he rolls his hips into yours, he hisses at the way your pussy chokes him, “‘s Just for you honey- thaaat’s it pretty- made just for you, Promise.”
Heat is rolling all over your sticky skin, that tightened in your stomach building every time his cockhead bumps against your g-spot. Harder, thrusts more erratic while gripping on your thighs like a vice, till youre both cumming. Jacks hips stuttering into you as he paints your walls white to the brim, hole overflowing— overstuffed with his cum.
“Jesus baby,” he breaths out, finally letting your legs go, slipping his dick out of you. He brushes your curls back as he turns your limp body towards him, kissing you all over, “Love you so much, my pretty girl. Thought about you all night.”
His hands travel up and down your waist, pecking your lips, “Gonna go see your ex?”
Your mind is fuzzy, yout head giggling so cutely, “What?”
Good, god you’re his good girl.
And he feels your thigh go around him, rubbing your naked body against him, you kiss his jaw, mewling, “mmm- Only wanna be with you Jack, please Jack.”
The older man is cracking a smirk, half hard and easing his cock into your sopping pussy with a filthy, “I knoooow baby girl, ‘m not goin anywhere. All yours.”
a/n: wanted to read a fic based on Drama Baby/Malibu by Babyxsosa so I had to write it🥴
he wishes he could crumple into the floor and die.
always composed, wise beyond his years and with more strength in his left pinky toe than your entire body, nanami kento is crumbling. he'd rather die than admit it's because he can't dirty talk to save his life.
long fingers buried to the hilt, glasses foggy and naked from the waist up, he can't utter a single word.
"what's wrong, ken?" instead of lying flat on your back enjoying foreplay, you're sitting up trying to soothe your sweet boyfriend.
"i don't know. this is just..."
"new? different? did i do something?"
"no! i'm not sure how to articulate this but, i'm— ugh," he pauses, mouth wobbling from like a shitty jeep.
"i'm nervous." it takes him a full minute to finish the sentence. his hazel eyes are to the floor, clammy and avoiding your worry miserably.
despite what it may look like, for a guy who can't even watch porn without blushing, he's handling this surprisingly well. you'd never tell him that though, lest you want him to die of embarrassment.
"i don't want to turn you off because i said the wrong thing."
"just try to say something. i won't laugh."
"...promise?"
"promise."
"uh," he starts, voice already quaking, "you're so hot. damn."
you regret promising you wouldn't laugh. should a snort count?
"okay, keep going."
"i love you. like a lot." confidence peaking, he stutters out fuller sentences.
"thank you for letting me take care of you, for allowing me to please you." as he goes on, his words become more and more formal. maybe it's nerves, maybe it's his true nerd nature showing.
his hand has slipped out of you, now resting on the bed while the other clutches the sheets. your hand crawls closer to his, eventually engulfing his with the tenderness only a lover could show.
sex is long forgotten at this point. your attention has shifted to kento, reduced to a meek, inexperienced version of his usual self. "that was beautiful, ken."
"really? i was mumbling anything that came to my head."
"shut up and take the compliment. for my sake, please."
his mouth shuts on an empty phrase. you lean down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead because teasing him a little couldn't hurt.
"and that's why i love you."
you've learned two things from this session: one, nanami kento is more sexually awkward than a nerd fresh out of college. two, you should probably warn him before trying anything spicier than cuddling and makeouts.
masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred
a/n: btw i was thinking of this image while writing part of this
he wishes he could crumple into the floor and die.
always composed, wise beyond his years and with more strength in his left pinky toe than your entire body, nanami kento is crumbling. he'd rather die than admit it's because he can't dirty talk to save his life.
long fingers buried to the hilt, glasses foggy and naked from the waist up, he can't utter a single word.
"what's wrong, ken?" instead of lying flat on your back enjoying foreplay, you're sitting up trying to soothe your sweet boyfriend.
"i don't know. this is just..."
"new? different? did i do something?"
"no! i'm not sure how to articulate this but, i'm— ugh," he pauses, mouth wobbling from like a shitty jeep.
"i'm nervous." it takes him a full minute to finish the sentence. his hazel eyes are to the floor, clammy and avoiding your worry miserably.
despite what it may look like, for a guy who can't even watch porn without blushing, he's handling this surprisingly well. you'd never tell him that though, lest you want him to die of embarrassment.
"i don't want to turn you off because i said the wrong thing."
"just try to say something. i won't laugh."
"...promise?"
"promise."
"uh," he starts, voice already quaking, "you're so hot. damn."
you regret promising you wouldn't laugh. should a snort count?
"okay, keep going."
"i love you. like a lot." confidence peaking, he stutters out fuller sentences.
"thank you for letting me take care of you, for allowing me to please you." as he goes on, his words become more and more formal. maybe it's nerves, maybe it's his true nerd nature showing.
his hand has slipped out of you, now resting on the bed while the other clutches the sheets. your hand crawls closer to his, eventually engulfing his with the tenderness only a lover could show.
sex is long forgotten at this point. your attention has shifted to kento, reduced to a meek, inexperienced version of his usual self. "that was beautiful, ken."
"really? i was mumbling anything that came to my head."
"shut up and take the compliment. for my sake, please."
his mouth shuts on an empty phrase. you lean down to press a chaste kiss to his forehead because teasing him a little couldn't hurt.
"and that's why i love you."
you've learned two things from this session: one, nanami kento is more sexually awkward than a nerd fresh out of college. two, you should probably warn him before trying anything spicier than cuddling and makeouts.
masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred
a/n: btw i was thinking of this image while writing part of this
for years, your hair was as confusing to nanami as voluntary unpaid overtime. beautiful, no doubt, but something he quietly respected without asking many questions out of fear of offending you.
one day he decided to change that. in the true 'nanami way,' he threw himself into learning about textured hair, you being his main source of curiosity.
his questions are never rude, although they are silly. "do you use special growth serums to make it grow so long?"
"does your hair grow out, or down?"
"if i mess up your hair, will you kill me?"
now months later and you're here, sitting in the living room on wash day, warm hands slipping through your curls.
big light off, slow jazz playing and shea butter gliding through your roots, it's like you're right back at home. meanwhile nanami is gripping the comb like his life depends on it, veins bulging from sheer force.
"does it hurt?" he always finds himself asking without a second thought. "no, baby," you giggle, amused by his fussing. "i'll tell you if it does."
"promise?"
"promise."
occasionally he finds a fairy knot, signaled only by your muffled winces. he's doubled over and apologizing for it quicker than he found it, little "please forgive me, darling's" and "i'll be more careful," all topped off with sporadic kisses to your temples.
he takes care of your hair with the utmost reverence.
he gets the hang of it quickly for a guy who had never even seen a curl pattern like yours. originally, you were an anomaly, a foreign beauty he never imagined himself falling in love with. fast forward years later and here he is, your head between his thighs and his hands gripping your hair.
you always lie to him if your hair doesn't look good, not having the heart to break it to him. he already knows, can see the fly aways and messy parting. but he's trying, he really is.
originally, you wanted him to style your hair to avoid high braiding costs. (and so you could stay inside, being a home body and all)
now it's a nightly routine for nanami to do your hair in plats. "so my hair stays stretched," you tell him. he doesn't care why or how he's doing your hair, as long as he's taking care of you.
as he's going through the motions, you're talking him through it, stating which products to use and when. you see him reach for the gel and immediately swat his hand away. "that stuff is for styling, kenny. this is just for sleep."
he doesn't fully understand all the mysticism around your hair, routines or the culture behind it. but he respects it all the same, and you love him for loving you.
masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred
a/n: for all the ppl who wanted explicitly black reader<3 this will have a nsfw part two (hopefully). friendly reminder i have a taglist in my bio, pls tell me if it works!
for the first time in his measly 28 years, nanami kento is jealous— of a video game.
subjected to the constant tap tap tapping of your switch daily, he's beginning to regret buying it for you.
settling into the couch after a long day, he peers over your curled form to a painful sight. high saturated graphics blind him with the force of a thousand suns.
shielding his face from your addiction screen, he asks "what are you doing?"
"playing my game," you mutter, eyes still glued to the screen. a stupid grin is plastered across your face. brightness on high, hand at 90 degree angles with shrimp posture, there's no way your current position can be good for your health. another reason for nanami to take this thing away from you.
"why are you smiling so much?" if you weren't so focused on your game, you may have taken offense to his sassy question. "i put you in the game."
"what?"
nanami is only vaguely aware of what tomodachi life even is. he wouldn't call it a game, rather 'a dangerous drug' or 'girlfriend-thief,' much to your dismay.
"it's both of us! we look so cute, don't we?" he nods, but only for your sake. his hazel eyes strain while trying to make sense of the pixels in front of him.
all he sees is a 40-something year old looking man with a hard, blonde, digitized wig, a direct contrast to your very cute (but unrealistic) chibi form.
"why do i have eye bags? and why do i have a cigarette in my mouth?" he asks in utter confusion.
you go back to the screen just as fast as you shoved it in his face. the game has hypnotized you again, all outside noise falling off on deaf ears.
"who are those two?" his eyes clock two noticeably smaller figures off to the side.
you scoff immediately. "they have names, kento." half of the pair has brown skin and bright, almost offensively piss yellow hair, the other light skinned with huge curls and edges.
you watch in delight as a light visibly goes off behind his eyes. "are those—"
"our kids!" his face drops. "this one's nana and this one's kenken," you say, babbling on.
"we can have kids, in real life, as i'm sure you're aware," he murmurs. his hardened face shifts into a scowl, trying (and failing) to hide his irritation. for the first time in hours, your eyes fully leave the screen. "kento!"
"they'd be much cuter than whatever's in that game." he ignores the sound of the switch— that he paid for— clattering to the ground. "but how could you say that, ken?! they're our kids!"
"well tell 'our' kids i don't want them."
gasping, scoffing, you do it all. who would've thought nanami kento— the sorcerer, picture perfect husband and malewife —would abandon your tomodachi life children?
"talk to me when your ready to have a real family."
