ㅤꨄ︎ Nanami catches his pregnant wife ransacking the kitchen at 3am. (Fluff)
Nanami lazily rubs his tired eyes as he sits up on his bed, sheets pooling at his lap. He looked at the time. 3:23 am. Why is he awake at an ungodly hour?
His light haze is interrupted by what sounds like a raccoon rummaging through the pantry downstairs and the loud rustling of wrappers. He looks at the spot on your side of the bed where you should be. Empty, of course.
He swings his long legs over the bed and pads downstairs, his bare feet quiet against the cool wooden boards. The rustling of plastic, the thudding of cabinet doors, and soft chewing get louder as he approaches the kitchen.
He squints as he tries to make out the round figure in the dark shadows of the kitchen; the thin stream of moonlight through the kitchen’s small window faintly outlines your face.
“Honey, what the hell are you doing this late?” He flicks the light on, both of your faces scrunching up by the sudden brightness of the room after a long period of only darkness.
He sees his wife, you, standing by the fridge in his old dark blue button-up long-sleeve shirt big enough to cover your pregnant belly, a cold half-eaten pizza in one hand, while the other holds half a ham sandwich. His gaze pans to the cluttered counter laid with a slice of bread with Nutella slapped on it, a half-eaten bag of Doritos, a ham package, an empty soda can, a bitten apple, and an old pizza box. No signs of anything balanced, nutritional, or healthy, maybe the apple counts.
He rubs his sleepy face and rakes a hand through his sleep-ruffled hair.
“What am I going to do with you?” He shuffles closer to where you are, squinting at your cheeks puffed with food.
“I was hungry!” You mumble, unbothered under his scrutinizing stare.
Nanami grimaces at the random bits of food that fly out of your mouth. He knows that your pregnancy cravings have been cranked up to the max since entering your 2nd trimester, but he’s still unused to you eating the house of stock just because you feel a little hunger.
“Sweetheart, you’re eating all of this right now? Do you know what time it is?” It’s like he’s scolding a child. Well, he could call this practice for future reference.
You close the fridge sheepishly and swallow.
“I didn’t want to wake you, and I didn’t want to cook anything, so I just ate whatever came to mind.” Your explanation makes him sigh, but you know he’s really not irritated. He just wishes you had woken him up even at this late hour if it meant providing you with something healthier than whatever junk you’re eating now.
“You should’ve woken me up,”
He grabs the Dorito bag, the old pizza box, and everything else on the counter and dumps it all in the trash. He doesn’t dare to grab the food already in your hands; he knows better than to anger a pregnant lady.
“You know I don’t mind cooking for you.” He grabs a pot and a pan. If you’re hungry, he’s going to feed you at least right.
“What are you doing?” You ask, confused.
“Making you something proper.” He grabs some ingredients from the fridge and the pantry shelves. The smell of eggs and veggies fills your nose.
You sit down by the counter, still eating the last of your sandwich and pizza. You watch his broad shoulders shift and strain under his thin sleep shirt. He’s such a sight for sore eyes. What could be more attractive than your caring, unbelievably sexy husband cooking you a meal without being asked at 3 in the morning?
He whisks the eggs and pours them into the buttered pan. He dumps the veggies and folds them into a perfect tamagoyaki. Basic but tasty, way better than what you were eating before.
“Here, eat up,” he places the freshly cooked food and crosses his arms, watching you pick up the chopsticks on the plate and eagerly stuffing your mouth.
“Aw, thank you, Ken. You didn’t have to,” your eyes sting with tears. It surprises you how easily your mood can shift from hungry to happy to sad. You feel bad for waking him up and make him feel like he has to take care of you all the time.
Nanami shakes his head, walking over to where you sat and wrapping his strong arms around you. He presses a kiss on the side of your head. He smells like his sandalwood shaving cream and cologne.
“Don’t cry, my love. I don’t mind doing anything for you as long as you’re content.” He kisses your leftover tears away, his eyes full of love for the mother of his little girl, Sachiko, and the light of his life.
You sniffle, beaming under his affection.
“Don’t you have work in the morning, Ken? I shouldn’t be keeping you up this late.”
He shakes his head, his large hand trailing down to rest on the curve of your belly. He feels a small nudge barely there, but still enough to make his heart flutter. His palm’s warmth seeps through the cotton of the button-up, grounding you.
“That doesn’t matter right now. You and the baby are more important to me than anything else right now.”
“You don’t mind me keeping you up late even though you have work?”
He shakes his head, his hands now coming up to cup your cheeks. You melt and lean into his touch, watery eyes blinking up at him.
“I don’t care if I lose sleep. Do you think I’d rather be asleep than taking care of you right now?” His voice is low and warm, comforting your guilt-clouded head.
You slowly move your head, no, letting his thumb wipe away stray tears.
“No… know you love doting on me.”
“Good. I want you to wake me anytime if you need anything. Promise you’ll do that for me?”
“I promise.” His shoulders relax at your promise. He presses a slow kiss on your forehead before pulling back to meet your eyes again.
“I love you,” he murmurs, only quiet enough for you to hear.
You giggle, grinning playfully.
“No way. I love you more.”
(In a perfect world I’m nanami’s happy pampered wife.)
in which you prank the sleeping jjk men by telling them, 'You need to hide; my boyfriend's home!'...saw it on tiktok heh
Satoru croaks, “Oh, shit. He is?”
Groggily, he clambers out of bed and hides in the bathroom, bare feet padding. In the dark, he waits. Seconds pass and he shows no sign of realising what games you’re playing. When you go to collect him, you find him asleep, standing with his forehead pressed to the cold tile, drooling.
“Is he gone?” He asks, voice raspy, shaken awake once again. You nod, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “Good ‘cause I’m too tired to fight anyone…I’d win though.”
Soon after, in bed, he continues sleeping. And it’s only in the morning that you find him grinning and prodding your puffy cheek. “That was really funny, babe. Ten out of ten. No notes.”
Suguru's brows furrow. Without opening his eyes, he mutters, “Nice try.”
“No, really. You gotta go; he’ll kill you.” A curse emerges, large and foreboding, just watching in the corner of the room. Shivers wrack your body. It doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, nor utter a single sound. Still, the message is clear. You roll your eyes and cuddle into your boyfriend’s side. “You’re no fun.”
He tucks you in close. “Try again in the morning, pretty girl. I’m sure I’ll be more fun when I’m not half asleep.”
Choso startles awake, bloodshot eyes widening. “Oh no. What should we do?”
He lets you shove him into the closet, shirtless and hair a mess. There he stands patiently, shuffling on his feet and holding his breath. Then, when a minute passes, he has a moment of realisation. Creaking open, the closet door widens to reveal him – he looks unimpressed…and pouty.
“I’m your only boyfriend; why do I need to hide?”
You giggle. “Sorry, Cho. It was just a joke.’
“I don’t really see what’s funny,” he grouches as he gets back into bed with you, wrapping his arms tight around your body and tucking his head in the crook of your neck, quickly forgetting your prank once his senses are overwhelmed with you.
Toji peeks one eye at your faux panicked face. He shoves it away, grumbling under his breath about how much of a brat you are and shifts into a different position; he’s got his back turned to you now. Undeterred, you shake him one more time. “I’m being serious. You gotta hide, Toji.”
“Leave me alone, woman. I don’t wanna deal with your shit right now.”
You drape your entire body over his. His beefy arm comes around to keep you steady, in case you fall off the bed with your clumsy ass. “Okay, but if he beats you up and takes me away, your loss.”
He grunts. “I’d like to see anyone try.”
Then, to keep your mouth from disturbing his sleep any longer, he suffocates your face in between his pecs, a hand on your ass, groping it for compensation.
Kento jolts, hands grabbing you to push your body behind his. He scans the room, then the door, waits for the intruder, ready to defend. Only when he hears your stifled laughter does he truly process what you told him. He sighs, hand rubbing down his face. “Can’t sleep again, darling?”
“No. The baby keeps kicking me.” You smile when his warm palm caresses your stomach.
Leaving a kiss on your forehead, he mutters, “I’ll give them a stern talking to; no child of mine hurts my wife. Now, would you like a midnight snack or should we stay up and watch the stars again?”
Lifted out of bed, he carries you in his arms, intent on keeping your bare feet from touching the cold floor. Even as sleep still courses through his veins, he’s determined to meet your every need – Kento couldn’t fall asleep again knowing you’re wide awake anyway.
Sukuna doesn’t awaken. He’s as still as a corpse. You try again. And again. Nothing. When you pout and smack his chest, one of his four arms snatches your waist and slides you onto his huge body. Your ass is being patted, as is your head, and with another arm, he rubs your back.
Calmly, his chest rumbles with his words. “All your previous partners are dead. No one will disturb us. Sleep.”
“Okay, Kuna…wait…no, they aren’t.”
He doesn’t reply, leaving you to wonder when he had the time to hunt them down one by one since he spends so much time never leaving your side in the first place. No answer comes to mind; his body can be so persuasive in pulling you to the land of slumber with him. Though, you are certain he whispers, ‘They will be,’ once he thinks you won’t hear. Try and follow up the next day however and he’ll shrug off your concerns with a, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
PU$$Y GOT MORE M⛧RDERS THAN SHIBUYA.ᐟ
𝐌⛧𝐑𝐃𝐄𝐑#𝟔 — 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨
⛧ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡: nov 28th, 5:47 pm
⛧ 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡: thanksgiving speech + heavy innuendo + dirty talk + bathroom sex + fellatio/blow job + backshots + pussy smacks + brat taming + brat!reader + dom!nanami + nanami has a lil' sadistic streak when it comes to payback
⛧ 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬: 9078 (5k of it is pure smut khfjhdrfrdgjhf)
𝐧𝐧𝐧 𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
How does the saying go again? Play with fire, get burned?
Well, when it came to mischief, you weren’t just playing with fire—you were a regular pyromaniac.
And poor Nanami?
He was the one whose patience kept getting scorched time and again.
Case in point: right now.
With feigned innocence, you stretch across the dining room table to set down a china plate. A mundane act by anyone else's standards—except you’re braless under your loose sweater dress, and the moment you lean forward, your pert nipples peek through the gaping neckline, jiggling carelessly right in Nanami’s direct line of sight.
Nanami, of course, pretends not to notice. Attempting to hold himself to his signature stoicism as to not reward your slutty antics. Yet, Nanami’s hands give him away, hesitating mid-fold as the napkin fumbles through his fingers.
The result: a sagging, lopsided swan.
A far cry from the pristine little flock he’d already created.
With a sharp exhale, Nanami quietly undoes his work and begins again, a clear scowl tugging at his lips.
He should by all accounts be happy, it’s Thanksgiving.
Yet today also makes it Day 28 of the cursed No Nut November bet.
All month, your playful taunts, pretty pouts and cutesy whines have been tortuously chipping away at Nanami’s resolution to remain firm in not fucking you. Although it’s really no surprise to Nanami how bratty you could get when you went too long without a good dicking to remind you to behave—and for that, Nanami continues to lament letting Gojo rope him into the bet in the first place.
Not that Nanami particularly cared for any bets, he did however have a petty streak towards Gojo’s antics. Nanami couldn’t resist this particular challenge. After all, if there was one thing Nanami could undoubtedly best the so-called infinite strongest in—it was self-restraint.
Something Gojo has in laughably short supply, so it would be an easy win.
And it had been. Gojo folded within the first 72 hrs.
The satisfaction that came with besting Gojo had been short-lived. What really had kept Nanami going all this time is his more sadistic side relishing in how desperate you’ve been for him all month.
You, his perfect lil’ slut—you had zero false illusions of pride, especially when it came to getting your sweet lil’ pussy pounded. At the mere mention of your involuntary participation in the month you quickly unraveled like an addict from just the thought of having dick withdrawals. As such, dealing with your horny desperation has been a whole other beast of its own.
A few times Nanami had nearly caved too as he found himself fighting against his more debased animalistic urges that would arise.
You’re his weakness after all and it’s far too easy to be enamored by you.
Especially when you would rub your thick thighs together—your plush skin sliding against whatever scandalous lingerie you’d be wearing, splayed out on whatever surface was the closest—bed, counter, sofa, floor— wet pussy on display and all while cooing for him to reconsider.
You would beg so sweetly for Nanami to touch you, to stretch your pretty pussy out just a little bit with the fat head of his tip—yet to his own maddening torment, Nanami held firmly and refused.
Your charms had finally met their match.
For every ounce of brat you possess, Nanami has pounds of stubbornness to counter. Nanami would have thought though as the end of the month drew closer, you’d be able to hold on knowing you’d made it this far.
Yet contrary to his hopes, you’d only ramped up your teasing to practically insufferable levels.
All of which is particularly bothersome to Nanami right now seeing as your entire family is in Japan to visit you for Thanksgiving this year.
Much to Nanami’s chagrin, even your family’s presence is not enough to deter your lewd stunts—if anything you take it up a notch, slyly using your family as a shield from his reprimand.
Your family, of course, doesn’t think of you as anything less than an angel, your shameless behaviors going undetected to all but him.
Like the time you insisted on stopping for ice cream crepes after taking your family out for lunch despite the near-freezing temperatures. The chill didn’t faze you one bit as you messily devoured the treat. When your relatives weren’t looking, you made a show of deep throating your pristinely manicured fingers—in slow, exaggerated motions, like you were devouring something far filthier than just the frozen sweet cream flavor you had purposely let drip down to your palms.
The bitter chill also never stopped you from flouncing around the city in the shortest of mini skirts. Your legs would be comfortably wrapped in thick, form-hugging thigh-highs—another one of Nanami’s undeniable weaknesses.
You knew that though, and as expected you made sure to tease him whenever you got the tiniest chance. Exampled by your flashing him glimpses of your crotchless panties during a casual family trip to the local Daiso for souvenirs.
Despite the warmth indoors, Nanami was forced to uncomfortably pull his thick wool coat tighter around himself. The last thing he needed was to be seen with his arousal leading ahead of him because you feigned sudden interest in every item on the lower shelves. Every time something new caught your eye you’d bend over just enough to offer him, and only him, the perfect view of your smooth, bare cunt— the glistening flesh plumping out between your thighs as if your pussy lips would have blown him a wet kiss at any moment.
The sight almost broke him.
Nanami had to dig for newfound strength in order not to push you up against the shelves that day. Public indecency charges be damned, Nanami would have given almost anything in that moment to spank your naughty cunny red for rebelling against him to these extremes. Then of course, he’d bury his aching cock into that tight lil’ cunt of yours, already pulsing and soaked, just so ready to be punished.
Worst of all though, was the constant weight of his arousal resting heavy between his thick, muscular thighs, growing unbearable with each one of your taunts. Nonetheless Nanami endured it—and his blue balls—if only to teach you that haughty lil’ brats couldn’t get their way.
Now it was deeper than the bet with Gojo even, this was on principle.
Two more days.
In just two more days it be December, your family would be gone and Nanami could finally fuck you into the slobbery, sated stupor you’d been fiending for all month.
Nanami sighs again, looking up to see you already staring at him, smiling sweetly like you weren’t the embodiment of Lilith herself.
You only giggle at him.
Patience is Nanami’s virtue, not yours. Surely destined for the naughty list this year, you and those venus like curves of yours are driving him to insanity—and you knew that.
All according to plan!
“Ken~to~~”
Your sing-song lilt not only grabs his attention but the attention of his cock as well, to his utter dismay the dull throb in Nanami’s pants responds before he can.
“Whatcha thinking so hard about, babe…?”
Well, he certainly couldn’t answer honestly.
No way in hell Nanami was going to admit he was vividly picturing how satisfying it would be to rip your sweater dress down the middle in two. He’d spread you out until your thighs trembled from the ache, plating your sassy lil’ pussy right next to the crystal centerpiece in the middle of the table before devouring you whole.
That’s the true feast Nanami wanted—fuck the turkey.
Instead, Nanami tiredly shakes his head as if to say ‘not much at all’.
“I meannnnn, it must be something pretty intense because you’re ignoring the timer for the turkey right now, it's been going off for over a minute.”
Oh fuck—the actual turkey!
Nanami couldn’t burn it, not the turkey he’d spent 10 hours basting with meticulous care. Nanami being the amazing partner he is, followed your Nana’s recipe to the letter so your family could spend the little time they had visiting Tokyo sightseeing and not in the kitchen.
You smirk as you bide your time, all while listening to Nanami quietly cursing as he fusses to himself the entire way to the kitchen.
Breaking Nanami before the end of the month has become your personal mission and you took that seriously. Even with all his saintly restraint you reasoned that Nanami was still just a man of flesh and blood.
He had to have a breaking point somewhere.
And when he finally snapped… well, you weren’t dumb, knew that wouldn’t bode well for you.
But wasn’t that the thrill?
The anticipation of pushing him off the very edge of his limits, of coaxing out the strict, authoritative side to him—the side he only let loose when he was truly fed up with you?
You’d wind your A-type boyfriend up so much today that the second your family left back to their hotel for the night he’d have no choice but to release all his frustrations out on your ass—literally.
For now, you return to setting the table. Your parents and older family members would be back from their shopping trip and your cousins back from the walk—and then, your little plan could finally unfold.
Sure enough, it isn’t long before the front door swings open, laughter and the crinkle of shopping bags flooding in to announce their return. Your cousins also return, eyes a bit redder but thanks to raiding your bathroom cabinets for eye drops, your family none the wiser. In no time, the dining table is brimming with your Thanksgiving favorites.
And unlike the wonky napkin swans, Nanami executes each dish with the precision of a seasoned chef, as if these recipes had been his own all along. The rich aroma of roasted turkey, buttery stuffing, and stewed collards lures the rest of your family into the dining room as everyone settles to eat.
Out of respect, you let your parents take the seats at the heads of the table and intentionally save the seat beside you for Nanami. But when he pointedly chooses the chair diagonally across from you instead, your pout is impossible to hide.
Nanami’s gaze snaps to yours, and he offers the faintest smirk—as if to say he knows better.
At best?
If he sat across from you you’d tease him under the table, playing footsie. Your delicate feet gliding along the rim of his socks, tickling his ankle and testing just how composed he could really be.
At worst?
Well, if he sat next to you and your shamelessness got the better of you, you might just get bold enough to slip your hand into his lap and onto his cock—breaking any boundaries of your already reckless antics.
The idea of being jerked off under the table, in front of your entire family, just because you were too much of a cock-hungry slut to wait?
Nanami refuses to entertain it.
Because knowing you?
The likelihood of getting caught wasn’t an "if." It was a "when" and there simply isn’t enough therapy or meditative prayer in the world for Nanami to be able to recover from that.
Nanami tries to hold back his glower, while you flash him a saccharine smile musing at how this works in your favor.
This time your stubbornly patient boyfriend needed to think a little bigger if he wanted to stop you.
Footsie and grabbing at him? Ha! That was child’s play.
Far too predictable and too much of a risk with your family here, even for you.
To be honest, with what you did have planned though you could savor his expressions better across from him than next to him. Nanami actually did exactly what you wanted him too—he didn’t need to know that though.
Thus, enacting your grand plan begins when you speak up once everyone is seated, cheerfully announcing that you’d be the one giving the Thanksgiving speech this year.
Your family of course delightfully agrees.
Ever composed, Nanami remains stoic—yet the slightest twitch of his brow betrays his exasperation.
He’s not stupid. He knows you are up to something. But here? Now?
The unspoken reprimand of ‘this is not the time’ radiates off him in controlled waves, but that only fuels your misbehavior.
Clearing your throat, your smile curls just sweetly as the marshmallow fluffed candied-yams that are steaming on the table.
“I just want to say how thankful I am for us all to be here—Mom, Dad, Grandma, Auntie, Uncle, all my dear cousins. I'm so thankful you all could finally make it to Japan! And of course, I’m so very thankful my sweet Kento could finally get away from his busy job this year to celebrate with us!”
Shooting Nanami a demure look, your eyes dance with devilment yet your tone is angelic.
Nanami’s gaze sharpens just a fraction, his jaw tightening in silent warning although his lips are composed into a polite smile that says ‘you wouldn’t dare’.
Oh, but you absolutely would!
You revel in the tension, in the silent promise that later tonight—when your family is safely back at their hotel—you’ll be paying for this in full.
All according to plan of course~!
"Again, thanks are due to my Kento, for volunteering to cook most of the dishes and for following Nana's recipes so closely! The dressing smells divine, and honestly, I’m amazed by how much you managed to stuff into that bird. But then again, you’ve always been so good at making things fit, Ken.”
Your parents, aunts, and uncles remain blissfully unaware of the roguish double meaning laced in your words, offering nothing but approving smiles and nods.
Your cousins, however—the ones closest to your age—are all high off their asses and catch on instantly. Some have to bite their lips to suppress giggles, while others shake their heads in mock disapproval, faint smirks betraying their amusement.
Nanami’s fingers flex subtly around the armrest of his dining chair, his smile dips ever-so-slightly as his dark cocoa eyes meet yours, piercing and questioning.
Are you seriously doing this to him right now—and are your cousins actually high!?
Dear God.
Your lashes flutter innocently at Nanami, like butter wouldn’t melt in that hot sinful little mouth of yours as you continue.
“Speaking of the turkey, you really took your time preparing her and so thoroughly. Just basting her in her juices for hours! She looks so good—sooo succulent and moist… She’s just dripping."
Nanami’s hand lifts to adjust his glasses—a calculated effort to distract from the faint flush creeping up his neck. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose briefly, trying to quietly suffer through the absolute depravity spilling from you.
Across the table, one of your cousins bites down on their lips, muzzling their laughter. Another abruptly ducks under the table, allegedly retrieving a dropped napkin, though it’s painfully obvious to everyone in the know they’re just extra baked and trying not to completely lose their cool.
Nanami sends a pointed, pleading glance at each one of your cousins, his cocoa eyes practically screaming at them to keep their shit together.
But that only makes it worse, their sniggers becoming audible and earning reprimanding glances from the elders at the table who thought it was rude they were interrupting your lovely speech.
"Oh, and let’s not forget the mac and cheese—the true star of the table! Kento baby, you really outdid yourself. It looks so rich, so creamy… has that perfect gooey squelch when you stir it up."
You hum, deliberately dragging out each syllable before shifting your attention elsewhere on the table.
"Mmm, and the ham? Perfectly pink, with that honey glaze oozing so invitingly between the folds. Doesn’t it just make you want to slide your *ahem* fork, right in?"
Nanami exhales slowly, the tension carved into his handsome features intensifying.
Around the table, your high ass cousins are seconds away from crumbling, somehow though holding it in for Nanami’s sake.
The youngest one cracks first as they start violently choking on their water they took a sip of, prompting your aunt to firmly pat their back.
And you?
Oh, you're reveling in every second of this masterpiece—the scandalous spectacle you've written, directed, and are now starring as the lead slut yourself as you prepare for your finale.
"Anyway, I’m rambling now. Wouldn’t want all the yummy food Ken cooked to get cold…"
Wrapping up your x-rated Thanksgiving speech, you decide to end it with a bang.
"So I’ll just end it by saying that Kento has such a knack for taking care of everything, as you all can see. He always spoils me, and he cooks for me regularly too which is why I had so much faith he could pull this off in the first place…"
Turning towards Nanami you smile brightly.
“...Kento always keeps me full with his yummy meals—and hopefully with his kids someday too!"
That last remark sends your cousins over the edge, howling their laughter bursts out now that they finally have an excuse to do so openly.
To the rest of your family, it’s cheeky fun—oh just you playfully pressuring Nanami, your boyfriend of 3 years into starting a family.
Your parents and older relatives even chuckle along too.
“Sweetie! Don’t embarrass poor Nanami like that, let him take his time—oh, look, now you’ve got his ears all red!”
Your mom softly chides you and you’re giggling innocently as if you’ve hadn’t just turned Thanksgiving grace into an impromptu smut reading.
“Poor mans, looks like he’s about to pass out.”
Your uncle shakes his head, clearly unimpressed with your brazen attempt to push kids on Nanami—especially when you’re both still unmarried. He casts Nanami a knowing, sympathetic look, the kind that silently says, ‘I’ve been there, brother.’
Nanami, ever composed, simply returns a curt nod in acknowledgment.
To his credit, Nanami isn’t anywhere close to losing consciousness, but his anger?
The tension radiating off of him?
That’s a different story entirely.
Nanami’s cursed energy fluctuates in restrained waves, betraying the quiet storm beneath his civil smiles. His sanity is hanging by a thread, and though he maintains perfect decorum, as he diligently carves and serves the turkey, you—and only you—can sense the static hum of his furry crackling just beneath the surface.
While the mood quickly settles for your family as dinner is served, the hairs on the back of your neck remain standing at full attention.
The food is, of course, delicious—Nanami never misses when it comes to executing a perfect meal. But you barely taste anything, too on edge from the weight of his stifled fury pressing against your senses to fully enjoy your plate.
On one hand you’re positively ecstatic, you know you’ve succeeded in pushing Nanami past his limits—yet on the other, you still can’t help but feel a chill for the utter bloodlust you sense in his energy.
Such malice you’d only felt him direct at curses before.
And so as your cousins gossip beside you, spilling all the tea about the drama and happenings back home, their words don’t register over the buzzing tension sitting right across from you.
However, by the time dinner winds down, Nanami at least outwardly appears much more at ease.
His posture has relaxed, his tone is as smooth as ever, and even his cursed energy has seemingly leveled out. Nanami engages effortlessly with your family, charming your parents with thoughtful anecdotes eliciting genuine laughter from them—because of course he does.
Nanami is the perfect partner after all.
But you know Kento too well.
The minuscule, erratic twitch in his fingers, the hardly perceptible grind of his teeth—it’s enough to tell you the truth.
He’s still pissed. Livid, even.
And later tonight?
You’re so getting fucked for this!
Perfect right?
Your plan went off without a hitch!
Then why do you still feel like you took it too far and your impending doom is at hand?
You’d never seen him this irritated at anything before, even after he had a week long mission with Gojo.
Fuck…Did your cousins have any weed left over? Likely not…
On second thought, maybe you should go back to the hotel with your family tonight.
You’d never pulled a stunt quite like that before, so it could give Nanami a chance to cool off and you could spend more time with your family. Sure, you wanted him to fuck you but you also needed to be able to get out of bed tomorrow as you still had to play tour guide to your family.
Avoiding being alone with Nanami seemed like a solid plan.
However, the universe is clearly working against you, wanting you to lay in the smutty bed of trouble you made for yourself.
“Sweetie, go help Nanami put the pies in the oven.”
Your mother’s voice disrupts the chatter of your thoughts like a bucket of cold water to the face.
Shit.
You gulp, dropping your fork to clatter onto your plate as your eyes flicker toward Nanami.
You knew he wouldn’t try anything with your family in the house, but the idea of facing his simmering rage in the kitchen?
Yeah, that’s far from ideal.
“Oh, Momma, I’m still catching up with my cousins though! Ken doesn’t need my help!”
You plaster on your cutest pout, puffing your cheeks as you loop arms with your favorite cousin—your shameless co-conspirator, the one who gave you the idea for your lewd monologue in the first place.
Your mother arches a brow, unimpressed.
“Young lady, I wasn’t asking, now was I?”
You deflate, instantly resigning to your mother.
“No, ma’am.”
“That’s what I thought! Now, help your man if you want that ring and babies, sweetie—Nanami doesn’t want a lazy wife! G’on!”
You sigh, defeated. You should have known the cute puppy-dog pout wouldn’t work on the very person you learned it from.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Nanami chuckles, clearly entertained.
No matter how much of a brat you are with him, your mother has you in check with a single look.
Still, Nanami clearly did have some authority over you as you visibly flinch the moment he stands and walks around the table to you. Taking your hand firmly, he pulls you to your feet with an air of finality as you try not to gulp.
“Of course, we’re on it, ma’am—or should I call you ‘mom’ now?”
Nanami’s voice is welcoming and warm—endearing enough to make your family chuckle again as he clearly has them eating out of the palm of his hand.
But the pressure tightening around your wrist?
That promises a very different Nanami once you’re alone.
Your stomach twists. The short walk to the kitchen suddenly feels like you’re being led to a firing squad.
Yet, once inside, Nanami does something unexpected.
He ignores you entirely.
Somehow the silence is worse.
Sulking, you plop onto one of the stools at the kitchen island as Nanami moves around his kitchen like you aren’t even there.
Like a child in time out.
You both know damn well he doesn’t need your help. The pies are already prepped, perfectly assembled—apple, pecan, and sweet potato, each looking like they belong on the cover of Southern Living magazine.
Worse still, you can’t leave—not unless you want to risk another tongue lashing from your mother.
Sighing, cross your arms as you pout and you kick your feet impatiently like an actual toddler would.
This sucks!
After a few more agonizing minutes you can’t stand the tension any longer as you push off the stool in a huff.
“I’m going to the bathroom!”
Breaking unbearable silence with your announcement you bristle slightly as Nanami doesn’t even acknowledge you.
Not a glance, not a nod—nothing.
Rolling your eyes, you slip out of the kitchen. You’re careful to avoid the dining room and your family as you make your way to the hallway bathroom. At least here you can breathe without the thick tension suffocating you.
Humming a soft tune, you scroll through your socials with one hand while the other carefully touches up your mascara in the mirror. The bathroom—really more of a powder room without so much as a shower—was small, but just secluded enough to serve as your personal hideout for now.
Fixing your makeup and catching up on the latest celeb drama blogs, it’s a decent escape.
For all of three minutes until the door knob twists.
“It’s occupied! Geez, can’t a girl get some privac—”
Your complaints are cut short as you choke over your words.
“K-K-Kento!”
You’d expected it to be one of your cousins barging in or maybe even your nosey ass aunt, who had zero respect for boundaries.
But Nanami?!
Nanami’s broad imposing frame fills the doorway before he moves inside, shutting it behind him without a word.
Click.
The sound of the lock clicking in place is synchronous to your audible gulp.
“K-Ken! W-What are yo—”
But Nanami moves faster than you can finish speaking.
His hand clamps firmly over your mouth as his other muscular arm bands around your waist, pinning you between him and the sink.
Nanami has you in his grasp now, ironclad and inescapable.
"Shhhhh, just shut those filthy little lips of yours for once, my love…"
Nanami's deep, velvety baritone drips with sinister intent.
"...you've already said more than fucking enough tonight, yes?"
A shiver rolls down your spine.
Oh, you’re so fucked!
You freeze up entirely as you are caught in a state of panic and growing arousal.
You wanted this—you had begged for this treatment all month.
But not here and certainly not right now!
Especially not while your entire family is just in earshot across the hall!
Yet your body is never fully yours when Nanami touches you. Despite your mind's protest, your back arches instinctively as Nanami—completely indifferent to anyone else in his home—smashes himself even closer against you.
That's when you feel it—his stiff, heavy erection, nudging petulantly against the swell of your ass.
Even through Nanami’s thick wool of his slacks, you can feel the fiery heat radiating from him. The outline of his cock is thick and unforgiving as it nestles between your rear cheeks.
This was all happening so fast?!
Your eyes widen, tears dusting your lashes when you meet his own in the mirror, pleading with him.
But if you thought your feminine appeals would soften him this time, you were sorely mistaken.
If anything, it only spurs Nanami on, wanting to punish you for that manipulative nature of yours that had subdued him more often that he wanted to admit.
“You’re such a good girl for your mother, sweetheart…”
Nanami purrs, his lips dragging down the column of your neck.
“...and yet so disobedient for Daddy.”
Your small, helpless whimpers are muffled into Nanami’s hand as your thighs squeeze together. Heat simmers low in your belly, ignited by Nanami’s weighted words overflowing with authority as he’s clearly not referring to your actual father—just mere feet away in the next room.
Nanami’s arm around your waist slackens just enough to let his brawny hand roam free, his fingers splaying possessively over your body and drawing out more submissive whines from you.
Head swimming, your shaky breaths draw in Nanami’s scent—his natural musk tangled with the rich notes of his woody cologne. Cedar, myrrh, and a faint whisper of smoked vanilla saturate your senses, leaving you lightheaded, dizzy with need, and aching for more despite the dangerous proximity of your family just beyond the door.
“All because this troublesome lil’ pussy can’t even go a mere month without my cock inside her, hm?”
Nanami’s smirks at your quivering under the weight of his wicked words as his fingers graze the waistband of your panties.
To be honest he was surprised given your antics you’d even bothered to put them on today.
You really must not have thought he’d be the one to escalate the situation.
Yet, a man could only be pushed so far…
“You were a virgin when we met, remember? Who knew I would unleash such a greedy n’ spoiled lil’ slut.”
You don't even get the chance to protest—not that you even had a leg to stand on—before Nanami’s hand presses his thumb past your plush lips, pinning your tongue down and robbing you of any ability to speak. Your moist, wriggling tongue squirms helplessly against his digit, a low hiss escaping him as the pressure of his cock grinds harder into the curve of your ass through the strained fabric of his slacks.
At the same time, Nanami’s other hand dips beneath the fabric of your panties, his skilled fingers parting the moist swampy folds of your cunt.
The goan that escapes Nanami is visceral when he feels the slippery evidence of just how fucking drenched you are for him.
“Oh, sweetheart…”
Before you can even process what’s happening your dress is bunched around your hips as his thick thigh slots between your legs. Writhing, you shake your head frantically as Nanami forces you to ride his thigh.
"S-Stowp! Mmfph—muh fampfy, K-Kem!"
Your garbled protest earns you a sadistic chuckle from him.
"Your family? You want me to stop because of your family, princess?"
Nanami hums thoughtfully, as if weighing the idea—yet still grinds his thigh harder against your damp core. He swaps the thumb silencing you for three thick fingers, stuffing them past your lips to muffle the desperate sounds spilling from your throat.
"No, that vulgar mouth up here didn’t mind being such a shameless cockteasing slut in front of your family. She’s racked up quite the tab of misbehavior. Why should this one down here—"
Nanami’s fingertips glide past your fluttering entrance, submerging into your soaked heat, stroking against that spongy spot that never fails to curl your toes.
“—mind finally cashing me out?”
A broken moan dies in your throat, gagged by Nanami’s thick fingers in your mouth all due to his fingers in your pussy methodically dragging along your soppy, pulsing walls to gather every trace of your need before finally withdrawing his hand.
"See, my love? How she's unabashedly drooling…"
Strings of your silky gossamer arousal web between his fingers, glistening even in the dull bathroom light as he displays them before your face.
"This is exactly what your naughty lil’ pussy has been begging for all month."
Your mind drifts into a hazy abyss, the raw need between your thighs consuming you entirely.
Everything else—the scandal of your family being in the house, the risk of them hearing you and getting caught, even your own better judgment—it all begins to fade away.
“Sorry, my dear…I’m afraid you can’t have your slutty cake and eat it too this time.”
Nanami husks the words against your skin, inhaling deeply to bask in the scent of your arousal lingering on his fingers before daring to taste it himself—consuming every sinful, decadent drop.
“My sweet girl has been a fucking cockteasing menace all month. You’ve succeeded in breaking me, now it’s time to reap your consequences…”
Your protests are audible even through his slobber coated fingers as his words ignite goosebumps over your skin.
“Aht-Aht-Aht…”
Nanami admonishes you.
“...you begged, manipulated and schemed for this. You’ll take Daddy’s cock now, exactly how he gives it to you or you will go another week without it. Your choice, love.”
The muffled cry you release is loud and needy. Your eyes are like saucers and your body trembles at Nanami’s very real threat. Yet Nanami just brings his face down to smoosh against your cheek, piercing you with those unwavering cocoa eyes of his that meet yours in the mirror once more.
“This silly month might be over in two days but that doesn’t mean your naughty lil’ pussy will get fucked anytime soon, sweet girl. Not if she doesn’t take it for Daddy now…”
Thick tears spill down your cheeks, wetting Nanami’s hand as the oppressive tension in the tiny powder room grows suffocating.
You'd get what you wanted, alright—
Nanami would break No Nut November and fuck you stupid—
—but only on his terms.
Anticipation and dread knot tighter in your belly, a dizzying cocktail of fear and excitement. You’re in no position to stall now, and Nanami’s patience has long since rotted away.
"Can’t decide?"
Nanami drawls, voice dark with amusement.
"Then we'll defer to the lewd lil’ brat between your legs, hm?"
Without another word, Nanami hooks two fingers into the gusset of your soaked panties. The lace gives a pitiful snap as he rips them clean off, stuffing the ruined fabric into his pocket like a prize.
Before you can catch your breath from the shock of it, his hand slaps harshly against your drenched pussy—an obscene, wet crack that ricochets off the cramped bathroom walls.
You jolt forward with a sharp, broken whimper, your thighs quivering as the sting melts deliciously into heat.
Nanami just watches in the mirror, his lips curling into a wicked smirk as he drinks in the sight of you coming undone from just a single strike.
Now bare, the cool air brings a chill to your exposed, leaking cunt.
SMACK
Another sharp slap lands against your throbbing cunt and your knees almost buckle from the pleasureful sting.
Nanami hums in satisfaction, his fingers dipping lower to ghost over the sticky mess leaking out from your twitching hole.
“Looks like she’s already made the decision for you, princess. That’s two against one.”
You flinch as you feel his cock pulse in between your cheeks—impatient, demanding, aching to be acknowledged.
Nanami’s own body is thrumming with need, to bury himself to the hilt, to fuck you so deep his cock kisses your cervix, the force of his hips so powerful they’d leave their imprint on your skin soft skin even the next day.
“…I stand corrected, make that three against one.”
And so your fate is sealed—which is how you ended up in this position now—squatting before Nanami on the bathroom floor, staring up at him as he looms above you. Your bottom lip catches between your teeth in nervous anticipation as you watch his practiced fingers work his belt open, the slow, torturous pace makes your pussy clench.
“I really should put you over my knee for a proper spanking, princess.”
Namani’s belt buckle clinks, as he undoes his zipper and he slides his slacks down just enough that his cock springs free—flushed red, and already dribbling beads of pre down his large veiny shaft.
“But we can save that for after your family leaves—at the very least.”
The metaphorical hearts in your eyes drown out the implications of any further punishment later. You just nod dumbly, too transfixed by the primal scent wafting off his cock as it stands proudly, heavy and imposing, bobbing directly above your face.
Oh, you’ve missed it bad.
You don’t know how you survived this entire time without it.
“Open.”
Finally obedient for the first time all month, you don’t protest or pout. You simply part your lips wide, presenting your tongue without hesitation.
Three times—Nanami’s weepy tip taps against your tongue, smearing precum across the soft bumpy surface and you are keening at the familiar, salty taste.
Biting back a groan, Nanami’s eyes momentarily flutter shut.
Reveling in the comforting pleasure of your tongue against his sensitive tip.
When Nanami finally opens his eyes again it takes everything in him not to spill himself right there, utterly ruin that pretty face of yours before he even gets started. Nanami tightens his grip around the base of his shaft because fuck—you look absolutely destroyed already, your glazed-over eyes locked onto his cock as though it were a holy relic.
Awe-stricken, mesmerized, your mouth opens wider, wordlessly inviting him to sheath himself inside fully and return to the cozy confines of your throat—a place he’d been aching to bury himself in for weeks.
My God, you’d really be the end of him one of these days.
“We don’t have much time to spare. Be a good girl and prep her for me, won’t you sweetheart?”
The raw desperation bleeding into Nanami’s voice goes unnoticed by you, too lost in your own pleasure to realize just how close he is to completely snapping. Your plump lips closing around his swollen cockhead as your tongue flicks sharply before flattening over the tender slit.
Of course, you don’t neglect yourself either—one hand wrapping around his girth to guide him deeper into your mouth’s wet molten cavern—the other snakes between your legs to your exposed pussy that is already eagerly leaking droplets onto the tiled floor.
Your fingers feel good of course, but they aren’t enough—truly, nothing has been since Nanami put you through the trials of NNN this month. But now with his cock cradled between your lips, knowing he’d soon be inside your pussy causes her to tingle even from your own touch this time. You don’t hesitate to sink them deeper inside your slippery cunt, pumping yourself frantically, so riled up by the sounds of Nanami’s suppressed hisses and the vulgar slurps of you sucking him off.
It’s been a whole month since you’ve had him in your mouth and thankfully, you haven’t lost your touch or your practically non-existent gag reflex—not by a longshot.
As a further testament to your skill, Nanami threads his fingers through your hair, guiding your movements as he rolls his hips forward in a slow, greedy thrust. His lust-darkened eyes remain locked onto your lips, transfixed by the way they stretch obscenely to accommodate him.
The salacious sight driving him past limits for the nth time tonight, Nanami presses your head down until your nose nestles into the neatly trimmed hairs at his base. He’s so deep in your throat his length is nudging past your tonsils.
You moan wantonly, throat stretched out so obediently around his cock as Nanami’s palm closes firmly around your neck. His fingers flex, savoring the way he can feel the thick outline of himself bulging through your tender skin, the vibrations of your desperate whimpers rippling straight up his shaft.
Instinctively, your throat tightens even more, eliciting another sharp hiss of approval from him. You feel the heavy, pulsing vein along the underside of his shaft pressing deliciously against your vocal cords—a clear reminder of how badly he's missed this.
Yet before you can fully appreciate the exquisite stretch, Nanami’s composure shatters completely.
Using your mouth as a fleshlight, Nanami tips his head back, letting go.
Who the fuck cares that he technically caved to your bratty whims?
That this wouldn’t teach your slutty lil’ cunt a single lesson about behaving in the long run?
If anything, it only meant he’d have to keep fucking you nice and sweet all over again, something that he’d gladly do over again if the delayed release felt this good everytime.
"Such a good little slut for Daddy, aren’t you? You can’t help but to crave my cock, hm princess?"
More groaning pulsations around his cock are the only answers you are capable of at the moment and of course that encourages more hushed curses to roll off Nanami’s tongue. The tight, punishing hold he has on you, keeps you in place.
Fortunately, this allows you to lower the hand that isn’t feverishly scissoring your pussy, loosening your tight walls for her long awaited turn, to rub your neglected lil’ clit. Your thighs shake from the burn of squatting and your tear smeared mascara burns your vision—but you don’t care. For the first time in a month you were about to be successful in making yourself cum.
So close m’gawd—m’gonna cum!
You can nearly taste the suffocating pleasure building, hurling you steadily to your peak—and yet abruptly, Nanami pulls out—because he can’t afford to cum now.
Not in your throat at least.
The action leaves you choking, gasping for air as spit and pre-cum are splattered across your chin. Your hands instinctively ripped away from your pussy, thwarting your impending orgasm as you have to catch yourself from completely falling over.
"Hands on the sink."
The command is gruff, the strain evident in Nanami’s voice—but you’re still the bigger mess by far.
You nod obediently, though your legs tremble so badly they nearly give out beneath you. Nanami has no patience left to spare. Gripping you roughly, he yanks you upright, a resounding smack landing on your ass before he turns you toward the mirror with a force that leaves your head spinning. You collapse against the sink, elbows bracing against the cold porcelain, panting and gasping as your chest heaves—desperately trying to catch up with the ruthless pace he’s setting.
“No, absolutely not—."
Nanami lifts you upright against him again, grabbing your jaw and tilting your flushed, tear-streaked face up to the mirror.
"—you must look at me while I fuck you, my sweet girl. Look at whose cock you’ve been dying to slut yourself for.”
Nanami’s girth prods against your soaked entrance that’s already fluttering, hungry to have him plunged inside you. Yet you still can’t help as your heart races knowing that after nearly a month of waiting, you’d be lucky to be able to walk after this—fuck you really didn’t think this through when you deviously planned to break his ‘No Nut November’!
Yet there's no more time for thinking as with a snap of Nanami’s hips, the stretch is instant, intrusively overwhelming as Nanami bottoms out with one sharp thrust into your guts. Your lungs deflate, all the air pushed out as you can feel his cursed energy tentatively radiating off of him.
You’re so full your tummy can’t even flex and this time it’s your own hands this time that have to fly to your mouth to keep your cries in as Nanami does not give you a single moment to adjust, his hard length ripping through you and smashing against your womb.
“My girl thought she was being cute out there, hm? Showing off like that?”
Nanami growls through gritted teeth, his hips slapping against yours with an unforgiving force bolstered ever so slightly by his cursed energy. The rhythmic slaps of skin meeting skin and wet squeaks from your oozing core echo off the walls like a drumline.
You can hardly see Nanami now through your bleary, tear-filled eyes but he looks more like a wild animal than your perfectly composed boyfriend in this state. Nanami had never fucked you with this curse energy activated so the feeling was sensational as you felt his cock pierce through every nerve of your body.
“C’mon, my sweet slutty girl, no words now that Daddy is stuffing you better than the Thanksgiving turkey?”
Nanami’s fingers dig into your shoulder keeping you upright as he pistons into you harder, deeper—right against the sweet spot that has your eyes rolling back into your head and you forgetting your very name. His other palm slides to your stomach to feel the thick bulge of his cock filling you and press down forcibly moving your hips back to meet his bruising thrusts when your body can no longer do anything more but take it.
You can feel the sensuous pressure building quickly within you, so full, so ready to explode and gush all over Namani’s length drilling into you.
Mmmm, good god yessss!
You are finally getting your nut.
Nothing else mattered. Your face contorts in your aching pleasure behind your hands.
You’re almost there.
Nanami is growling into your neck, feeling your imminent release.
“Don’t tell me my slutty girl is already abou—”
“Huh, Is this the bathroom? Sweetie, are you in there? Where’s Nanami?”
Your mom’s voice crashes through the filthy haze like a gunshot, and pure panic rockets up your spine. The tiny bathroom spins around you, Nanami still buried deep inside, your heart lurching so violently you almost faint.
Approaching the door, she hastily knocks.
Fuck!
Your eyes widen in horror but Nanami doesn’t flinch.
This was your punishment after all and your consequence to bear.
Though Nanami does slow the feverish pace, that mere moments ago had the sounds of your flesh ringing off the walls, his hips never still completely.
Instead, his movements grow more deliberate, more precise.
With a commanding grip on your waist and hips, his cock grinds methodically against your cervix, each rotation of his pelvis powerful and calculated.
God, you swear you can feel his cock grinding up into your fucking ribs…
“Go on, answer her…”
Nanami goads you with low raspy whispers. Once he guides your body into a rhythm, his hands lazily wander up to pull your sweater dress completely down in the front and tweak your nipples.
Damn him! But— FUCK, if it doesn’t feel so, so good.
The well of drool you were holding in spills through your hands to dribble down your wrists
“These naughty fuckin’ lips had no problem mouthing off at the dinner table, whats wrong now sweetheart?”
What was wrong was Nanami slowly churning your core into liquified mush with his torturous strokes scraping against your womb.
This pace was somehow even more brutal than before.
But your mom now jiggling the door knob snaps your attention back to the urgent reality of the situation.
“Are you okay in there, honey?”
No you weren’t okay!
Nanami was driving you to insanity. You needed more.
This wasn't enough to make you cum, only keep you dangerously on the edge of it while your body screamed for release.
But you had to answer your mother, she is totally the type to beat down the door and then your dad might force Nanami into a shotgun wedding right here and now, roping your uncle in to officiate. (That idea did make you giggle but that ultimately was NOT how you wanted to get married to Nanami!)
“Umm, er—AH! Hah, I, uh, um… jus’ ate t-too much momma, m’s-sick…shiiiit.”
You nearly bite a chunk out of your tongue as Nanami's hand leaves your waist to draw slow agonizing circles around your clit in perfect sync with his grinding while the other lazily flicks your nipples.
“Oh no sweetie, you need me to come in there to help you, pooh?”
“N-NO! Nnngh!”
You said that a bit hastily, trying to recover.
You had to convince your mom you were fine. Well fine enough she'd be persuaded to leave you alone.
“Mmm, n-no, Momma, m-ma’am, I-I just need a minute…I-I’ll be out!”
“Okay, well I’m just a holler away, if you do…”
Thank fuck…
“Oh, and one more thing?”
God what now?! Let it end please...
Rolling your eyes in exasperation you exhale through your teeth, keeping your shit together somehow. The irony was not lost on you—now knowing exactly how Nanami felt at the dinner table.
“Y-Yes m-ma’am?”
“You never told me where Nanami ran off too, I couldn’t find him in the kitchen.”
Gnawing on your inner cheek you suppress a needy moan as Nanami takes to placing nuzzling kisses into the crook of your neck.
“The s-store! I t-think he went to the store, Mom… U-Uh, for the pies. Y-Yeah, um, to make w-whipped cream!”
It was the first excuse that popped into your head—and thankfully, it was enough. With not much more fuss from her, you finally hear your mom’s footsteps retreating back down the hall, her worries laid to rest for now.
Moreover, your lies also earn you dark chuckles from Nanami, who couldn’t help but breathe filthy praises in your ear. Relentlessly taunting you with what your mother might say if she knew she'd raised such a naughty, deceitful lil’ slut.
“Whipped cream, hm? When did my sweet girl turn into such an underhanded brat?”
You manage to twist just enough to throw a pout over your shoulder at Nanami—only to find him watching you with a rare shit-eating grin stretching across his usually stoic features.
“Something wrong, my love?”
You can't take this teasing any longer—it's downright villainous—and with a sob of frustration, you snap, squirming and cooing for him to finally give you what you want.
“Pwease, K-Ken, m’sorry, *sniff* I won’t act up anymore. *sniff* I promise.”
There she is.
There’s his good girl that’s been hiding all along under that slutty Hyde-like brat.
Nanami hums, pleased with the turn of events. All the sass in you temporarily melting away.
“F-Forgive me…please, s-sir?”
Sir.
Oh you little minx.
If hearing you call him Daddy thrilled the dom in Nanami, then hearing you whimper sir—so soft, so desperate—nearly drove him feral. He knew he'd broken you the moment the brat in you crumbled enough to say it without a hint of defiance or sarcasm.
“If I finally make this slutty lil’ cunt cum...are you going to take all of Daddy’s in your pretty pussy like a good girl?”
You nod whispering through your sniffles.
“And when we return to the living room you will continue to act like the respectable young lady that Daddy trained you to be?”
You’re bobbing your head in affirmation but Nanami needs to hear it again, hear you call him that delicious little word from your lips once more.
“Words, babydoll.”
“Y-Yes, sir! I-I’ll be so good for you… I-I’ll—”
However, Nanami hushes you with a soft murmur, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his voice smoothing into a warm, calming lull.
“I know you will doll. I want you to let it all go, everything you've been holding for me all month—I’ve got you sweetheart.”
And it hasn’t been just you holding it, not by a long shot.
Nanami’s brow prespires as his muscles tremble from the sheer restraint he’s been holding onto all month—restraint he’s finally ready to cast aside. He delights in the way your body quivers, hunched and pliant beneath him, before snapping his hips forward and resuming the merciless pace that had you falling apart earlier.
You sob in raw relief, the sound abruptly cut off as Nanami’s hand tightens around your throat—firm but careful—silencing you while your fingers scramble for purchase against the sink, clinging to it like a lifeline as the rough pads of his fingers feverishly strum over your clit.
“I thought my sweet girl wanted to cum, hm? So then cum for me.”
Nanami’s voice is all silk and sin, his cock pulsing deep inside your creamy cunt.
However, twice now you’ve been edged and you think you might just combust on the spot if for some godforsaken reason it happens a third time.
You can’t even form a coherent sound to respond to him though—your body strung so tightly—buzzing with a frantic cocktail of need, paranoia, and overstimulation.
You wanna let go so bad.
When the coil inside you finally snaps, your sweet, celestial orgasm crashes down in violent, shuddering waves, that has Nanami’s hand returning to your mouth in order to suppress it enough not to draw attention.
When the coil inside you finally snaps, pleasure detonates through your body in wild, celestial bursts—so fierce Nanami has to slap his hand back over your mouth to smother the desperate, lewd sounds lest you draw more attention.
Growling in response to your convulsing grip on his cock, Nanami, drives one more hard slam of his hips into your ass as thick, molten ropes of cum spill into you, painting your insides white.He doesn’t stop—rubbing cruelly slow circles into your swollen clit with the pads of his fingers, forcing every last aftershock to wrack your body while he stays sheathed inside you.
A feral growl rumbles from Nanami's chest as your spasming walls clamp down around him. With a final, punishing thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, spilling thick, molten ropes of cum deep inside you—painting your insides completely white. He doesn’t relent there, the rough pads of his fingers working merciless circles over your swollen clit, wringing every last shudder and twitch from your overstimulated body as he stays locked inside you, refusing to let a single drop go to waste.
Nanami is claiming you from the inside out—filling you so completely it almost hurts—and fuck, if the way your abused, sloppy pussy kept milking him didn’t make him want to start all over again.
The urgency of your current situation is momentarily forgotten as Nanami relishes every helpless flutter of your cunt around him—along every obscene, wet squelch of his cum sloshing inside your womb.
It's addicting. Dangerously so.
Nanami almost regrets having nearly spent an entire month without it. Yet now that he’d broken ‘No Nut November’ he wasn’t about to let up on you anytime soon—you were still owed that spanking later tonight after all.
Nevertheless after a minute Nanami does pull out, albeit reluctantly.
Grabbing a spare hand towel, he dampens it with cool water, and gives you a few through swipes—dragging it over your trembling thighs, sticky tummy, and the flushed rise of your chest.
Nanami doesn’t bother wiping between your legs, letting the thick mess of his cum drip down your inner thighs unchecked, hidden under the hem of your dress as he tugs it roughly back into place.
Also part of your punishment.
By the time he’s done, you almost look innocent—if not for the way your frizzy hair clings to your temples and the slightly dazed flush about your face.
It would have to be good enough—for now at least—especially since Nanami is always the one stuck covering for your half-baked lies.
“Now, quickly grab your shoes and we’ll slip out the back.”
You simply blink at him, still a bit out of it from the first actually satisfying orgasm you had all month.
“Huh? Why?”
Nanami’s smirk is devious as he clicks his belt into place.
“Darling, you told your mother I went to the store to buy whipped cream for the pies.”
“So?”
Nanami’s grin turns wolfish, clearly amused as the brat he spent so long fucking into submission claws her way right back to the surface.
“So sweet girl, we can’t exactly serve them the cream I just made inside of you, now can we, princess?”
Goddamnit. You’re pouting, realizing how your mouth has talked you into all sorts of problems today.
“Now hurry along, my love. Oh, and you better keep those thighs of yours closed tight—I don’t think aisle 5 is equipped to clean up that kind of creamy spill.”
𝐚/𝐧: so is nanami more out of pocket here for nnn than otaku!gojo was? lmfao, you decide 🤭.
comment and reblog to let me know how you liked it~~
idk why but it took me forever to get this fic in a place where I like it. I still may go back and edit it a bit again, fix any remaining errors. (I wrote so many paragraphs like 3x over that there might be repeating lines im so sorry I tried to delete them all).
last up but definitely not least is Higuruma, Hiromi (comment on m.list for tag). not sure when i will get his part out. I want to go back and work on like a handful of things but it's also like 70% done so we will see lol.
MAN, I SWEAR THE SMART GIRLS ARE MY FAVORITE◞ n kento
what's the buzz? nanami, perfect husband by day, panty stealer by night?
before you read (implied) 18+ content, arranged marriage, chronically online! female reader, discussion of kinks / sex related conversations
it began with laundry, as most domestic crimes do.
you weren’t even being particularly attentive — just tossing clothes into the basket when you realized a pair of your underwear was missing. not just one, in fact. a quick, panicked mental audit of your drawer made you realize the situation was far more dire.
it wasn’t just a missing pair. it was… at least six. six pairs of underwear gone in three months of marriage.
either the washing machine had developed a taste for cotton, or your very serious, very put-together husband nanami kento had finally decided to embrace the concept of kink.
the realization did not come with horror, as one might expect. no, it came with that dangerous, giddy thrill that tends to ambush newlyweds when they realize their spouse is secretly human.
oh my god, he’s doing something. he’s initiating something. he’s not just a beige man who buys whole wheat bread and folds his socks into perfect thirds.
you remembered the talk, three months back. it had been less a sultry unveiling of secret desires and more like you giving a ted talk on the last ten years of your internet history. nanami had sat on the couch, face stoic but brows slightly pinched, nodding politely as you breezed through topics that made his ears pink.
“so… um, a bit of exhibitionism, some praise kink, occasional knife play — though only in fiction, don’t panic—”
“...knife play,” he’d repeated, voice flat, like he was trying to confirm whether you’d just confessed to felony-level horniness.
“oh, relax, it’s more like the concept of danger. not like i want to be stabbed in bed.”
he had hummed then, pulled out his phone, and you’d watched in mild disbelief as he typed “knife play kink wikipedia article” into google.
“is that necessary?” you’d asked.
“if i don’t understand, i can’t participate responsibly,” he’d replied in that calm, measured tone of his, like he was moderating a town hall meeting instead of discussing what makes you wet.
that conversation had ended politely, neatly, and had been left to die like your house cat’s fart — quick, silent, unacknowledged. and now here you were, three months later, staring at the gaping space in your underwear drawer and realizing: oh. oh he remembered.
the problem was how to bring it up.
so you waited until dinner, when nanami was plating out chicken and rice with his usual precise movements, like a man who would never, ever be suspected of underwear theft. he even tied his apron strings so tight it made you suspicious of what other secret knots he was capable of.
“so,” you began, very casually, as though you weren’t planning to launch into a potentially marriage-altering interrogation. “funny thing. my underwear’s been… disappearing.”
nanami’s hand paused only for a second before he set the ladle down. “disappearing?”
“mm. vanishing. like socks in the dryer, but specifically only the underwear. isn’t that interesting?”
he turned, towel over his shoulder, expression unreadable. “do you think the laundry service is misplacing them?”
“kento. we are the laundry service.”
a beat of silence. his jaw flexed, the tiniest tick of a nerve.
ah. got him.
“and,” you pressed, leaning your chin into your palm with mock seriousness, “i find it very unlikely the washing machine has suddenly decided to develop a panty fetish.”
that earned you a look, the kind of look that was equal parts long-suffering husband and man caught with his hand in the metaphorical cookie jar.
“you’re… making quite the leap,” he said carefully.
“am i? or am i uncovering the secret perversion of my otherwise painfully respectable husband?”
nanami sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “we spoke about kinks once, and you catalogued them like you were preparing for an exam. forgive me if it took me time to consider which, if any, i could—” he stopped, cleared his throat, adjusted his glasses, “—accommodate.”
your grin was immediate and sharp. “so you admit it. you did steal them.”
he didn’t answer right away, just went back to portioning rice with exaggerated focus, which in nanami-language was basically a confession.
you bit your lip, trying not to laugh, trying not to imagine this dignified man sneaking into your drawer like a pervy raccoon. the whole image was so hilariously at odds with his normal composure that you almost wanted to thank him on the spot.
“well,” you said at last, letting the silence stretch. “at least we know our marriage isn’t going to be boring.”
nanami finally looked at you, resigned but — just barely — amused. “i married a woman who uses the phrase ‘panty fetish’ over dinner. boring was never on the table.”
you could’ve kissed him then and there. but you decided to save that for dessert.
“so are you planning to, like, return them at some point? or should i accept my drawer has been downsized permanently?”
a curse turns nanami into a leprechaun and he can't help but find a few places to pinch you!
mdni. crack. smut. better late than never :3 for @cassideezlife
you forgot to wear green.
like, you had a life. adult responsibilites?
how the fuck were you supposed to remember it was saint patrick's day when you didn't even know what day of the week it was half the time?
all you had done was stop by nanami's place to pick up some paperwork. okay, maybe it was your fault for walking in when the door was unlocked after he didn't answer you ringing the bell, but really, you hadn't expected to find him in a funny top hat and full green-and-gold attire scowling at his reflection in the mirror as he fixed his tie when you peered down the hall.
it only took a few seconds for his hazel eyes to lock onto yours.
funny enough, with all the green he was donning, it almost made them look like they were too.
brow immediately furrowing, lips pressed together disapprovingly as his stare flicked down to your much more normal attire.
"last night, a curse-" he started to explain, despite the fact it looked like he was judging you more than you were judging him.
"uh-huh, it's, um, cute," you lied, gesturing towards his outfit vaguely as you stepped back, one hand sneaking into your back pocket to snag your phone.
god, gojo was going to love-
before you could even pull it out, he was already bridging the distance, grabbing your wrist before you could capture this moment in an eternal photo.
"don't," he practically growled, and you couldn't stop yourself from giggling out loud at the absurdity of the scene. sure, nanami made a few funny fashion choices in general. his tie and his love for patterns and the emo fringe you sincerely missed, but this had really taken the cake.
"can't you just take it off if you're emb-" you started, the next syllable turning into a surprised squeak when he suddenly pinched your ass with his free hand.
"it's not that simple," he grumbled, half-glaring like he was suppressing some primal urges. you'd been struck by your own share of curses. knew they could have some...strange side effects. but turning into a leprechaun?
he pinched your ass again, squeezing the fat between his fingers and you tried to swat at his hand, huffing at him.
"stop pinching me," you complained, face starting to flush as you backed up only to end up pressed against the wall.
"i can't," he grimaced, jaw clenching as he threw a look towards the door. and it was absolutely wrong, but your stomach fluttered a little at how close he was, how disheveled he looked while he stared at you so disapprovingly. "you should leave now."
"or what? the lecherous leprechaun is gonna pinch my clit instead?" you couldn't stop yourself from taunting him while you had the chance, knowing that in a couple days, he'd be back to boring old nanami who would pretend none of this ever happened.
the lump in his throat bobbed hard, and you almost laughed again when you realized that he was actually thinking about it.
and before you could take it back, he was readjusting to shove your underwear to the side and pushing two thick fingers into your heat, pumping them in-and-out as any jokes that came to mind died before they made it to your tongue.
"should've just worn green," he muttered, like the fact you weren't was driving him crazy. finger fucking you faster, caught somewhere between offering you pleasure and punishment, stretching you open and swirling them around with nothing shy of desperation.
"didn't get the memo," you half-whined, shutting your eyes as the force of his thrusts left your thighs tensing around his hand. "s-sorry."
"you're not," he dismissively muttered, completely correct as the pressure pulled taut in the pit of your stomach.
"d-don't think you'll find any gold up there," you teased, out of breath as his fingers cruelly curled deeper, not even earning you a chuckle.
"shut up," he grunted, like you couldn't feel his bulge digging into your thigh through his obnoxiously bright pants.
"you look great in green," you tried to compliment him instead, suppressing another giggle as his cock throbbed, and something inside you squeezed on his thick digits.
that was enough to push him past the edge.
pulling all his fingers out, ignoring your whimper at their absence as he redirected his attention to your clit, playing with it rather meanly. not quite the gentleman you always envisioned him as, rubbing over it in rude circles.
some strangled sound that didn't even sound like you escaped, your wrists lazily wrapping around his neck so you could play with the soft ends of his hair as you found yourself melting for him.
and it was with a little pinch, fingers pushing together to send a sudden jolt up your body that he shoved you into a sudden orgasm, cumming for him as a shudder racked through you, tilting your head back and sucking in a fast breath for air as he rubbed the sensitive bundle of nerves like he felt a little bad about it.
it was only when you opened your eyes that you realized that it wasn't just his clothes that changed.
"um, nanami?" you blinked, tilting your head to the side as he looked up at you.
"what?"
"i think you're shrinking."
divider by @/tsumiinum
reblogs + comments are always greatly appreciated <3
