husband!toji loves spanking you when you don't wear your ring...
truth be told, you do it on purpose. this isn't the first time he's bent you over for this reason, and it surely won't be the last.
"told you" smack! "not to" smack! "try this shit" smack! "again." smaaack! your pretty, tear covered face is pushed into the couch cushions, warm leather and toji's musk filling your nose. he's got you bent over his lap, ass high in the air, perfect for hitting.
how gravelly his voice gets when he's angry and turned on never ceases to make your panties wet. his boner is pressing into your tummy. knowing how much it turns him on when you misbehave, it's a surprise he actually expects you to listen to him.
"you know i don't like other guys hitting on you. that's my job." 'that's why i do it,' you think. you wiggle your ass at him in response, mainly because you can't use your mouth.
of course, it sets him alight (and makes his dick twitch a bit) "you think this is funny? do it again. i dare you."
everyone knows you don't say no to dares. you shake your ass again, but not without a giggle. considering the angry huff your husband let out, maybe it wasn't a good idea. you'll never know though, because he's already grabbed a fistful of your hair, strong hands yanking your head out the cushions.
the spanks that follow are unforgiving. the living room echoes with each impact, makes the flesh of your ass ripple before and after the next.
"bet this is what you want all those guys to do, huh?" you can't tell if he's saying it more to your or himself, voice low and pointed. "lookin' at my fuckin' wife."
"no toji, no," you whimper. "fucking liar." smack! "admit you do it for attention, now." "you weakly shake your head, motions stifled by the hand in your hair. "you want me to spank this pussy next?" your pussy's saying yes, your head is shaking no.
he doesn't give you time to reply, spanking hand moving to pull down your wetting panties. the cool air his your slit making you shiver. "fuck... look how pretty she is," he says, hypnotized. he shakes his head, snapping himself out of it. "too bad i have to spank her."
your slick and his hand make for a loud, filthy sound when he hits the soft skin. "toji! stop it!" "not until you admit it," he groans in your ear.
reluctantly, and with a tear or two, you say it: "i don't wear my ring for attention!" you whimper out. immediately, his motions stop. he's letting go of your hair, keeping you up by a loose grip on your neck instead.
"that's what i like to hear." his large thumb is caressing your cheek, gripping and rubbing that sting out. "there there, shh," he coos, attempting to stop the pain he caused. "if you just said it first, we wouldn't have this problem." still being a bastard, though.
"we both know that's a lie, toji." he grins at your little sniffle. "maybe i am lying." he knows he is. "well then, you need to apologize for it." his eyebrow quirks up, signature move for 'what the hell are you talking about.'
"and how should i apologize, wifey?" his rubbing motions have stopped, going back to massaging the doughy flesh like bread. "well," you say, wincing, "you could start by showing me what's in those boxers. it's been poking me this whole time."
the air becomes hot, like the ac is listening in. "only if you put the ring on." his eyes are clouded, knowing he's about to take his wife. "you can slide it on when you make me cum," you retort.
smiling, he picks you up, bare feet padding across the floor to the bedroom. it's things like that, silent 'yes's that made you fall in love with him. your pussy throbs against him, knowing it's about to be turned out by your hot husband.
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.
ꨄ︎husband!nanami can't help but be a little mean after another shitty day at the office
everything is testing his patience today. he stubbed his toe on the bed frame getting up, took him two tries to put his tie on right, the coffee machine at work broke, he could go on and on. all he wanted was to come home and relax with his wife, maybe get his dick wet if he wasn't too exhausted.
instead, all you wanted to do was beg him for something he's refused many times in the past.
"plleeeease, just fuck me rough! i can handle it. i'm not glass," you pout. the vein above his left brow is bulging, a sure sign he's irritated. "no. i don't believe in hurting women. it's cruel." you swear you can hear his teeth grinding.
"what would i do anyway?" he asks. a mistake. "like, choke me, or slap me, call me something that can't be uttered again..." you trail off, waiting for his reaction. his eyes are rolling in their sockets.
"but nanamin! you're not hurting me. i want i-" "you're my wife. i'm not treating you like some reckless pervert on the street." his sturdy frame is now turned away from you in his chair. he's not even looking at you, face buried in some paperwork he had to take home. his word is final.
disappointed and horny, you mope off to bed. there's no point in trying to get him to change his mind. he's the gentle type, the kind of man that kisses your tears away as you complain that it won't fit. cruelty isn't in his nature.
it's not until your asleep that nanami fully considers your pleas. you have been a brat, and he can't lie that his cock is hardening, uncomfortably tight in his pants at the thought of you folded up for him. maybe he should finally indulge you.
ꨄ︎
ꨄ︎
"mm sorry, i'm sorry! i won't ask again!" the empty promises barely make it out of your lips. nanami's hand is gripping your jaw, pulling the pretty thing toward him. "thought this is what you wanted," he teases. it is, but being fucked so rough you can barely breathe wasn't your intention.
he's got you folded in mating press, knees to your ears and his chest pressed to yours. it's almost like his cock is in your lungs, knocking the air out of you with every thrust.
tears prick at your eyes when he hits your cervix. there's no way he's been this deep before. it's too different, too intoxicating the way his cock massages that spongy spot deep inside. all you can do is grab at the sheets, desperately try to crawl away from him.
"stop running." is all he says before he's grabbing your thighs, pulling you flush against him. now you're pelvis is grinding into his, unable to move with his grasp on you. he's unconsciously grinding down onto your clit, nearly sending you into your fourth orgasm of the night.
"stop ken! fuck, i'm gonna-hic-cum!" eyes rolling, your body writhes, too overwhelmed to do anything but take your husband's cock. it's filthy how you drool, ruining the expensive silk pillows he got you.
but he doesn't care. what he does care about is that you're not looking at him, not fucked out enough to be all whines and no words. you find yourself staring down at where your bodies connect, sticky and wet. the sinful heat is fogging up his glasses like steam.
his hand has found purchase in your hair, forcing your head down to look at the shared sloppy creation.
"can't take it, huh? don't ask for things you can't handle, sweetheart." if they weren't stuck up in your skull, you'd be rolling your eyes at him. his cruelty is showing, drunk off your submission. his thrusts are even more delicious, threatening to make you cream then and there. "be a good girl and cum for me. i know you can do it."
you're cumming around him before you realize it. toes curling, silent screaming, the whole nine yards because his dick is so fucking good. wetness runs down your thighs, connecting with nanami's brutal hips to make filthy plap plap plaps. "shit, you're so fucking wet," he groans, his own orgasm on the horizon.
your pussy is sucking him in, wringing him for all he's worth. relentless fucking through your high nearly pushes you into another. his pace is stuttering, body twitching at how good you feel.
he finishes with a thrust harder than all the rest, head of his cock pressed against your cervix. his glasses have fallen off now, probably broken somewhere under the sheets. you can feel his cock throbbing, pumping you with ropes of cum that are sure to go deep.
unlike normal, he crumples besides you, yet still not pulling out. there's a sudden ache in his lower back that wasn't there before, dull and irritating. "i'm exhausted," he pants. he says it as if he hasn't flattened you out on the mattress. neither of you are used to this level of exhaustion, but it aches so good.
silently, he brings you close. the familiar scent of his sweat and cologne envelop you. he's back to himself.
"ken?" you whisper. your husband grunts in reply, attempting to go to sleep. "will you do this again? pleasesayyespleasesayyes." "maybe. if you're good."
you blink in confusion. "but wasn't this a punishment?" "if it was a punishment, you wouldn't be talking right now." his lips ghost against your neck, clearly curling into a grin.
the man has always prided himself on being a doting partner.
that's why he likes missionary, or lotus position, where he can see the pretty face he fell in love with. he'd never refer to lovemaking as 'smashing' or 'pounding'; it's too vulgar, too immature. your pleasure, and being the cause of that pleasure, is his favorite part of intimacy.
so it's a shocker when your caring, sweet husband is giving you the roughest fucking of your life. and from behind, no less.
"ah-nana! 's too big, too big!" every syllable is accentuated by him knocking into you, hips drilling into your plush ass. "you take it every night, baby," he coos, voice still gentle despite his juxtaposing motions. if he weren't as nice, he'd be smacking your ass by now.
"don't complain because it's a different position." the thought of a feeble rebuttal is fucked out before you can make it. that long, curved cock is nearly hitting your pretty cervix, making your freshly manicured toes curl in pleasure.
back arched in doggy, he has a pillow under your pelvis, making his cock hit even deeper. it's relentless, deadset on making you cum as hard and fast as possible.
missionary allows for more connection, lets you know his next move. there's none of that in this position. only embarrassing, loud sobs from your throat and squelching from your gushing pussy filling the shared bedroom.
"ohmygod, so fucking tight," he groans, baritone turning you on even more. he can't lie, the angle is amazing. hot ropes are threatening to spill out too early, fill up your hole till you're stuffed.
"mm, nana! gonna make me cum, no more!" unfortunately for you, your moans only spur him on, begging him to fuck you harder. "you wanna cum?" he asks, mouth now right in the crook of your neck. "yes please," you whimper over and over, incoherent. "then look at me."
hands are tangling in your hair before you know it, wrapping around like a leash as your neck is craned back. two dark, half lidded hazel eyes meet with yours. contrary to his, yours are rolling back, weakly trying to look at him. "come on, look at me, pretty girl."
pretty girl. that nickname that's had you creaming on him more times than you can count. like every time, it works.
"fuck, nana! i'm cumming, i'm cumming!" on command, his hips speed up, desperately trying to stay inside of your tightening pussy. "don't stop." he knows you won't, not with the mind blowing fuck he's giving. it's to dominate, to show you that you'll do it as long as he says.
overstimulated, you crumple onto the mattress, legs splayed wide for your husband. his ring is glinting in the low light of the bedside lamp, a reminder of who you belong to. like the gentleman he is, he's holding you up by his grip on your hair, back still arched perfectly.
your eyes roll back again with the feeling of your orgasm, intense and long. your eyes are squeezed shut, the only way you can bare the pleasure. his hips, his cock, hands, muscles, him, it's all you can feel. it's familiar yet overwhelming. there's a new sensation, though, and it's not nanami's cum.
streams of slick and cream are running down your thighs, coating nanami's balls. the added wetness feels delicious on your clit, his full sack smacking into it without fail. his head tilts back, golden tresses falling onto his face with a low moan, the one he lets out when he's close.
"fuck, it's pushing me out!-" not a thrust later, his entire cock is out of your pussy, settling onto your sore ass. with the way you're shaking, ass jiggling too, he can't help that he cums then and there.
white, warm cum spurts out of his dick like water to a sprinkler. the sight of it covering your skin nearly makes his eyes cross. without thinking, he's thrusting into your cheeks, rubbing his mess all over them.
"nana! you're being gross," you whine, barely regaining your senses. amusement graces his features. not that you can tell, though. his hand left your hair the second you squirted.
"i'm sorry, darling. this ass is just too fucking sexy." he gives the doughy flesh a pinch in apology. his eyes crinkle, smiling at the yelp you give.
"you were supposed to come inside, y'know," you say, muttering. "doggy feels better for guys, at least i think." the bed dips as he lays on his side, eyes level with yours. "as long as i have my beautiful wife, i'm satisfied." you roll your eyes.
there's a beat of silence. it's broken by nanami, even though he'd prefer no talking. "darling?" "hhm, nana?"
"if you want it inside that bad, we can always go again."
❦⋆nanami fucks the brat out of you°‧ (based off this req)
"talk to me, please."
nanami's been on his knees for you many times but never to apologize.
grovelling, the corners of his mouth twitch in desperation. he doesn't care that the grimy floor is staining his three piece suit, or that you won't give him so much as a glance.
you've been ignoring him for days. his responses are long and drawn out, an apology thrown in somewhere, contrasting your curt ones.
he stoops as low as buying you things in hopes of making you feel better. the blonde sorcerer isn't one for material things, but if this is what it takes to make his lover pay attention to him, it's worth it. (news flash: it didn't work.)
now he's on the floor, worshiping your legs, large hands running up and down them. his golden tresses frame his face delicately.
"my love, what have i done?" you huff in response. he'll take it.
"i'll make it up, whatever it is, i promise," he says, groaning against your skin. he pauses between words to kiss you, lips lingering longer than they should.
"it's nothing, nanami." a pang of guilt hits you at his expression; serious and worried, like a puppy who knows they're in trouble.
"it's ken, darling. you know this," he adds, struggling to stay composed. continuing, he gently spreads your legs. in no time his face is shoved between them, kissing all along the tops of the doughy skin. it takes all your might not to moan when he suckles, hickies already forming.
you don't stop him when he peels your shorts off. foregoing panties, you cringe at the cold air on your soaked sex.
"you ignore me, yet you're dripping." his tone is mocking, but it only makes you wetter.
slender fingers glide up and down your folds, collecting slick between them. you can't help the gasp that slips out when he circles your clit. his skilled mouth joins in.
he takes his time, as always, drinking up your scent before licking broad stripes up your slit. he eats you rougher than normal, nose grinding into your clit like there's no tomorrow.
he's making out with your pussy, sucking on your clit as if it were your tongue. it's pure agony how good he is. you can't pretend to be fed up with him when your toes are curling, hole clenching around nothing in pure ecstasy.
you're pinned to the bed by his eyes. dark and punishing, they never stray while he's buried in between your legs. even when you grip his hair so hard it burns, he keeps sucking, keeps eating like it's his last meal.
"mmph! n-nanami, stop-" his hand cracks down on your ass, icy wedding band biting your hot skin.
"quiet, brat."
god, he's fed up with you.
again, he spanks you. each time you pull away, he's there to pull you back to his masterful mouth.
your poorly concealed moans, along with nanami's racy eating, fill the room. his eyes glint when you race towards your orgasm.
against your will, your thighs shake, tussling his hair even more. cumming, you clench around him, unable to stop him from slurping up your cream. "s-shiit, please!" you beg mindlessly.
"please what?"
fumbling over your words, you barely get out a whispered
"please, fuck me, ken."
four little words are all it takes for your husband to be hurtling up the bed. in a blur, you're forced on your back, caged against the mattress by his thick arms.
you end up a drooling, whimpering mess while your husband ruts into you from behind. the bed is threatening to break any second, same as your psyche from the unbearable pleasure.
"don't you ever pull that shit again," he says, voice deceptively cool against his harsh words. "do you understand me?"
"yesyesyes, ken, yes!"
"i knew you would."
soaked through, the sheets underneath you will surely need to be thrown out. he's been fucking you for god knows how long, and with no signs of stopping.
your brat-behavior is a ghost of the past. babbling, you take his cock without complaint. it's rearranging your guts, gaping your sweet hole, and you wouldn't rather be anywhere else.
"all you needed was a good fucking, huh?"
masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred
a/n: praying this wasn't complete slop💔 anyways the request was very yummy, yet for some reason i had a lot of trouble writing it. hopefully yall still enjoy!
p.s. the gojo x reader x sukuma cheating fic is coming out next hehe.
⋆𖦹⋆ˎˊ˗ nanami fucking you after a long day with the kids!
between 7am drop offs and battles at bedtime, it seemed the blonde girl dad could never catch a break.
done up in his finest dress shirt, hair parted, nanami takes your little girl to school whilst sporting her glittery pink my little pony backpack on his shoulder. the bag barely fits on his forearm, corded muscle threatening to pop the seams, yet he rocks it like a champ.
your daughter skips, clicking her heels to see her new light up sneakers blink blink blink bright pink. it's a look you adore, heart swelling with pride and contentment every time you see it.
it's barely 7:00, yet you'd never be able to tell on his face. you can't see it on your daughter's, either, chubby cheeks smiling clumsy and wide.
mornings are your favorite part of the shared daily routine your little family has settled into. wake up, get cleaned up, head to school by 6:45, work, come back home, dinner and bedtime.
monotonous, sure, but you wouldn't trade that familiarity for the world.
today, your routine has been broken; baby yuji has a baseball game nearly an hour away. suffering in silence, your husband agrees to drive, ignoring that his joints are killing him.
of course, the little pink haired demon toddler scores the winning shot for his team. it's amazing to see your nephew smiling, jumping for joy, but the ache in nanami's back is becoming apparent.
he's not the man he once was; standing for god knows how many hours always ends up in back pain and migraines. chiseled jaw tightening, you can tell it's beginning to get the best of him.
"just a few more hours until bedtime," you remind, placing a hand on his shoulder. his hand meets yours, resting on top of it before giving it a tender kiss, matching wedding bands glinting in the sun.
"YUCK!" your daughters squeals. her and yuji make disgusted faces while they giggle, covering their chubby faces.
thy don't laugh much longer when it's time to get strapped into their car seats, preparing for a long car ride home.
finally, 7pm comes. by god's grace, your beloved baby sitter accepts to take the kids for an overnight stay. for 24 hours, it's just you and nanami.
completely alone. no responsibilities. not even an alarm to wake up to.
surprisingly, nanami cracks first.
"been waiting to taste you for weeks," he groans, lips already kiss bitten from an earlier makeout session.
it marks the fourth time in 12 hours he's run his lips against yours, temptation overwhelming as you embrace him.
the moomoo you were wearing, short and stained, has long since been discarded onto the floor. in nothing but underwear, you shiver against the sheets.
he takes notice immediately, moving to wrap his arms around you, body heat radiating into your core.
somehow, his clothes are still on, tie barely hanging ground his neck. you make quick work of them, nearly ripping the fabric straight from his body.
it doesn't take long for you to be entangled in the sheets, skin to skin, nanami's leaking head prodding at your entrance.
"please, let me inside." he groans it against the shell of your ear, hips shifting as he slides his length up and down your coated folds.
"put it in, kento," you murmur.
a sharp gasp leaves you. no matter how many times he fucks you, the initial stretch will always have you clenching. slowly, he rolls his hips, nestling his cock further inside.
he notices how your brow furrows, how your toes clench, even feels the slight twitch of your thighs. immediately, his thumb gets to rubbing your clit, easing the ache out. it doesn't hurt, never did (well, except for the first time, maybe) but it feels so good how attentive he is.
finally, he's seated fully inside you.
"mmm," you moan, already needy. it's been god knows how long since you got to fuck your husband, especially properly. occasional phone sex can't cut it anyore.
bracing himself, his arm cages you in, the other one tweaking your pert nipple. like always, his forehead goes to rest against yours, sweat glistening against it.
the drag of his cock inside of you is tantalizing, makes you moan into his mouth as loud as you want. "i've missed you so much, ken," you whimper, lips wobbling with need.
"me too, baby, me too." he kisses you firmly, open mouthed, sloppy and disheveled, yet it couldn't be more passionate. his pace quickens slightly, low slapping beginning to fill the room.
"oooh, just like that-fuck!" his eyes widen, trying to drink up your very being as he watches yours roll up. the dark blonde hair of his groin grinds into you, stimulates your clit without him having to try.
slutty moans, slapping and the most erotic of sounds fill the bedroom, bouncing off the walls. he loves how you move your legs up, spreading them wide so they bounce every time he thrusts up.
"yes!- god, fuck," he groans, no longer having to care that a curse escaped his lips. "you like being dirty for me, don't you?"
"mhm, mhmmm, yes ken!" his hand moves from your nipple to your face, cradling it up to meet his lips, face bent down.
too much blood is rushing to his cock, to his cheeks, to anywhere but his brain so he can think properly. his mind is filled with you, you, you.
gaze darkening, his whole aura shifts.
suddenly your legs are being hiked up even further, knees almost to your ears while he manhandles you. again, his hand moves, now tangling in your pretty hair, flat against the pillow. now you're looking straight forward, eyes focused on where his cock enters your soaking pussy.
his thrusts turn downright mean, harsh and unforgiving. he groans, voice cracking a little when you moan so loud the noise echoes.
"shiiit, darling." his baritone goes straight through your core, hitting so deep it might as well be a vibrator. the bed starts creaking, something it hasn't done since your daughter's been born. it shakes the foundations, floor threatening to break from the intense love being made on it.
he ignores how badly his back aches, how his knees are screaming to take a break. when his pretty darling is moaning so loud, creaming around his dick, why would he stop?
"k-ken, 'm gonna-" "i know you are. let it all out for me, okay?"
nanami almost screams when your orgasm tears through you, so strong it feels like he's the one coming. your vision goes white, as well as his, so overcome with pleasure it should be impossible.
also white is his cum, filling up your pulsing hole with ease. weeks of desperation show in the pumping, twitching release he gives you.
he falls onto the bed, golden tresses managing to frame his face perfectly. god, he always looks perfect.
your heart is still hammering in your chest, breath uneven, but you're beginning to come back to your senses.
"wow. you look tired," you tease. he rolls his eyes, turning his face away from you. the snort that escapes him isn't lost on you.
"fuck, we shouldn't have done that," you choke. slowly, you can feel the burn settling into your knees.
"but it was worth it, wasn't it? don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."
"you know i did."
sighing, he pulls you closer, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head.
"yes, i do. i'm sure the whole neighborhood does, too."
"i heard that, kento."
for now, it was you and the love of your life, wrapped together like thread, enjoying each others company.
soon, you would have to pick up your daughter and nephew. your chest was already aching a little at the thought of being away from them for so long. surely, your husband was too, muttering something about it right before he drifted off.
in a few hours, you'd be picking up your daughter, and maybe stopping by at the gas station beforehand. if you purchase a pregnancy test while there, so what?
and so what if it shows up positive, marking another baby on the way? you wouldn't have it any other way, and neither would nanami.
"always wanted to try for another girl," he mutters, green irises staring at the 2 bold, pink lines of the test.
masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred
a/n: my dadaman! but literally cuz he's a father. how do yall feel about the pregnancy ending? thought it would be a nice cherry on top.
his change in demeanor starts how it always does: a horrible day at work.
the front door shudders open, but the creaky sound isn't countered by nanami's silky 'i'm home' greeting. you're met with an exasperated huff, then the dull thud of loafers hitting the genkan.
"you okay, baby?" walking out of the bedroom, you look up at your husband. his gaze softens, yet the hard lines around his eyes are still there, marking another era of fleeting youth his aging back can hardly take.
"i'm fine," he croaks.
no darling. no sweetheart. not even a crack of a smile. there's clearly something wrong with your husband.
the rest of that evening, hell, that week, he's on edge. meals are eaten in dead silence, his hair is messier, and he doesn't seek recluse in you during the evenings.
every time the door to his study slams shut, a pang of guilt hits you like a train.
it's not until a few days later that he apologizes, albeit a bit... oddly.
"'m sorry, my love."
he's grovelling at the foot of the bed, you perched high in front of him. his lips trail up your skin, worshiping every inch like a saint; a hot trail of arousal, desperation, and passion is left in his wake.
"my behavior was despicable." he groans it against you, lips now having reached your neck. with uncharacteristic roughness, he bites at your collarbone, tongue diving out to lick the sweat that's accumulated there.
"k-ken, what are you doing?" you're still frustrated, but more so disappointed with your husband, yet you still find yourself leaning into his touch.
"apologizing, darling."
you didn't expect his way of asking for forgiveness to be fucking you raw, folded up like a pretzel, but who said that you're complaining?
you can't even if you wanted to because with each of his hard thrusts, a chorus of moans leaves your mouth without asking.
"please forgive me," he mutters into your neck, repeating it like a mantra. his usual warmth when speaking is back, but his words are frayed around the edges from guttural groans he's trying to contain.
"ah-k-ken!" is all you manage to get out before a cry of pleasure cuts you off.
it's filthy how you're scrunched up, knees by your ears while your husband fucks you in full nelson. you try to beg him for a break, tell him that his apology has already been accepted, but you can't waste a single breath on anything but a whine.
his length caresses your walls deliciously, every vein prodding at the sweet spots only he knows. if only you could look up at the mirror in front of you, see how your husband's eyes roll at the vice of your precious pussy.
"i love you, darling."
he utters those words again and again, not caring that he can barely get a full sentence out without groaning.
"tell me you love me," he gasps, hands gripping even tighter, caging you further into his chest.
"l-love you, kennn!"
"yes, that's right, say it louder."
you babble it out as many times as he pleases, brain too far gone to comprehend what your saying.
slick trails down your thighs, covering nanami's thighs in a thick cover of the arousal. his eyes almost cross when you clench around him, soapy lips clutching his cock until it twitches.
your climax is hot on his tongue. he could sense it any day, anywhere, no matter how much his head is pounding from another monotonous day at the job he so hates.
"ken, i'm close!"
"i know you are, baby. let it out for me."
electricity runs through you like a current. the force of your orgasm is unlike anything you've ever felt, hot and euphoric.
it's like the floodgates have opened; squirt coats nanami's length, serving as lube for his mean, arrhythmic thrusts.
"f-fuck, darling," he says through clenched teeth. nanami never curses, unless it's for good reason. his pretty wife creaming on him is good a reason as any.
it almost hurts how hard you cum, entire form quaking. your climax takes forever to ebb away. it's not until he lets your legs down that you realize how badly your whole body is aching.
he lays you down on the bed, satin sheets crumpled from your shared unholy activities. he quickly joins you, falling into exhaustion.
his cock is still throbbing, beads of precum falling down his shaft briskly. never mind that he didn't cum. never mind that he's ruined his beyond-expensive italian tie, forgetting to take it off before fucking his wife.
all he can think about is you. are you hurt? was he too rough? will you stay with him after his deplorable, stoic behavior? he finds himself holding in a shaky breath.
"do you forgive me?" he mumbles it, unusually quiet. the words should've come out steadier, yet the saliva gathering in his throat is stifling them terribly.
"yes, ken. i do."
thank god. he exhales slowly, previously peach toned cheeks returning to their usual ivory hue.
"but don't you ever do that again, y' hear me!" it's not a question, rather a demand that the perfectly capable man beside you doesn't shut down again.
taking his hand in yours, he kisses it, muttering "yes, darling."
no man in your life could ever compare to the masterful oral skills your boyfriend nanami kento had. he takes the words out of your mouth every time he goes down, somehow intuitively knowing exactly what you need.
from long, slow licks that spread your folds, to wet, messy kitten laps on your clit, his head was always beyond good. sometimes too good.
pride ignites in him when your trembling hands grip his hair, holding onto the amber strands like a lifeline. the dull pain that radiated through his scalp was oh so good, made him groan into your overstimulated cunt over and over again.
while he did love your hands on him, it'd be a lie to say it wasn't occasionally a... hindrance, to say the least.
"shiii, i-i can't take it!" you'd moan, as if he hasn't heard that before.
"yes, you can, baby. you took it last night, didn't you?" of course you did, but not without a fight. he's lucky there's no bald spots from how hard you were pulling at his hair.
sometimes you'd cover your aching wet core, a weak attempt at stopping his heavenly tongue work.
kento is a man that likes control, ease, for things to be done in the most efficient way possible. and while he does love when you squirm, how easy it is to overstimulate his pretty girlfriend, it's getting in the way of eating you out!
for this reason, he's tied your wrists to the headboard, trapped to the hardwood as he has his way with you.
"ohmygod ohmygod, oh!-" meaningless cries fall from your lips, kiss bitten and drool glazed.
he pays them no mind—well, if not responding and grunting into your cunt counts.
your eyes almost get stuck in your head when he uses his nose, the bridge of it grinding onto your clit just how you need. it drives you crazy every time, he knows it.
"hump for me," he commands, voice steady as ever. he still manages to be dominating when he has a mouthful of pussy.
of course, you follow his command. in no time, messy shlick and other rubbing sounds are being produced from between your thighs, trembling with need. he can barely breathe, both of your mouths hanging open, but you don't care. it fills the bedroom, your space, his aura, the very fiber of your being.
the only other noticeable sound are your ties, digging into the wood the same way kento was digging you out last night. it's like a mini construction team has set up camp in your bedroom, only it's you sawing without noticing.
"o-oh, keeen! let me go!"
for a second, his eyes flicker up at you, drinking up your exhausted figure. you look so cute and pathetic; all the more reason to keep you tied up.
"are you going to use your safeword?" he asks, occasionally stopping to lap at your clit.
"no!"
"then i'm not letting you out."
it goes like that for a while: you begging to be free (but not really meaning it), him saying no, then another barrage of pleasure on the soaked petal of your pussy. he seriously considers stopping when the wood sounds like it'll break if you go on any longer.
the pink rope—of the finest material— bites at your skin, hurts in the best way possible. he chose it specially for you. it's akin to fluffy pink handcuffs, so very erotic yet girly and almost laughable.
"ken, c-" "yes, you may."
he already knows that you're trying to beg to cum, regardless of how few words you can get out. you've said it a thousand times and you'll say it a thousand times more.
writhing against the bed, hands still bound, cream cascades down your slit, right into kento's expecting mouth.
he lets it sit there a bit, relishing in every minute flavor as his eyes roll. he looks possessed.
snapping back to his senses, he keeps lapping, trying to get every drop of your essence before your orgasm is over. not once do his eyes leave yours, pinning you in place.
he watches your chest heave, the stray hairs sticking to your sweaty neck, every twitch of your lips as more silent cries, never to be heard are motioned.
"fuuuck! i'm gonna cum again!"
there's no time for him to give you permission to release, to soak his face once more. waves of pleasure are already crashing down, clit already on fire with stimulation.
he realizes he's made the mistake of not tying your legs together. instinctively, you squish them together, catching his face in a headlock he doesn't want to leave. immediately he groans, intoxicated by the aching pressure of your powerful legs clamping against his head.
the only bad part? now he can't move his head to eat you out!
in a moment of sexual frustration, or maybe pure frustration, he wrangles himself out of your grasp and to the closet.
you watch in fear (and a little hornyness) as he pulls the last coils of rope out, already gripping your legs to tie them where your hands are.
"spread" is all he demands before your knees are tucked neatly by your head, ankles tied in a bow by your wrists.
it was going to be one hell of a night.
masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred
a/n: mean nanami for ya! this was longer than intended, at least for what i normally post. tell me if it dragged on. also, i think i want to start writing some more explicitly black reader x nanami stuff. if you have any ideas, do tell me!
