delirious-donna
Waiting For My Hokage Husband
“Every Day, I Eat, Sleep, & Worry About Stupid Things.” - Kakashi Hatake
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Higuruma Hiromi as a child?
its got to be Aiden Gallagher as Five Hargreaves (The Umbrella Academy)
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gojo jerking off to inoue waka bc she was canonically his crush when he was young? u can add a scenario where geto sees him jack off and help him if u want<3!!
All kinds of no. My requests are only open for Higuruma and a few AoT characters. Also, I would never feel comfortable writing about a character jerking it over a real life person, and Gojo… he’s alright but he ain’t my jam. Sorry.
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His Shirt [Nanami Kento]
an: this was a previous drabble I had for our beloved Kento but it needed a good tidy up and polish. For all those that love to wear their lover’s shirts…
pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: smutty smut, desk antics, pussy drunk Kento, fun manhandling (teehee)
Masterlist
The hour was late. The sky was midnight black, a dark canvas painted only by the stars peppered across the skyline. It wasn’t unusual for Kento to work late into the evening, but you couldn’t recall the last time it had been quite this late. How were you expected to fall asleep without his arm draped over your waist, his breath warming your neck, and his legs bent and flush behind yours?
After another fifteen minutes, you gave up your attempts of sleeping alone, and decided that if he wasn’t ready to come to bed on his own terms, you’d had to provide an incentive. Pulling a worn shirt from the laundry basket in the corner of the bedroom, your nose pressed into the starchy collar to inhale the remnants of his cologne, the faint aroma of coffee and his unique underlying scent—warmingly spicy and comforting. This would do nicely…
You tiptoed to the door of his office, giving a light knock. Not waiting for an invitation, you slipped inside and searched for the man hidden away in here—your man.
Kento sat behind his polished oak desk, a stack of papers to the side of his glowing laptop and a half-empty mug of coffee, that you would bet was stone cold, just out of reach. You admired the continued neat state of his parted hair, not a single strand out of place even after a long day. His shirt sleeves were folded back to his elbows and the tie was gone, but he still looked the picture of professionalism.
“Everything alright, sweetheart?” He drawled tiredly, not looking up from his work as you padded ever closer.
“No,” you whimpered theatrically, barely stopping yourself from adding a hand against your forehead.
His head snapped up immediately, rich hazel eyes widening as he took in the sight of you at last. A broad palm pressed the screen he’d been glaring at closed with a quiet snap, and you smirked behind your hand.
“Missed you… couldn’t sleep. Not without you, Ken.”
At last, an errant strand of blond hair fell into his eyes. Eyes that focused fixedly on how your fingers traced the bevelled edge of his desk. His throat felt suddenly dry, aroused immediately at you wrapped in one of his worn shirts. Kento noted that the buttons were only half done up, the crisp fabric bagging on your torso in places and exposing just enough of your skin to have him reaching for you.
Satisfied by his reaction, you happily stepped into his embrace, and let Kento settle you on the desk in front of him. Two large palms slid against your naked thighs, rough callouses pressing into your soft, smooth skin.
“Sweetheart, I had work to do,” he groaned out, leaning into your touch when your fingers carded into his lush hair.
“But…” he started, pulling your thighs wider apart and resting your feet on either side of his chair. “I could use a break and you happen to look especially inviting in my shirt.”
In this new position, your bare pussy was exposed to his hungry gaze. He untangled your fingers from his hair and guided both hands behind you to brace against the surface of his desk, pushing aside his stacks of work with his elbow in the process.
Kento fisted the tails of his shirt and dragged the material through your slippery folds. The friction was delicious, enough that you were already panting and flushed in the face. It was always arousing to watch him at work, especially when that work was making you shudder from his touch.
He noted the twist of your hips from the pressure of the material against your throbbing clit, irises glowing in the dim light of his office like a hearth stoked lovingly by a tender hand. Kento licked his lips in anticipation and lowered his face until he was gazing at you through hooded lids, making a show of inhaling your scent.
His tongue was hot and deliciously wet, the wide muscle danced boldly over your folds, pushing deeper to circle your entrance and teasing you over and over with the strong tip dipping past your ring of muscles. You keened for him, leaning onto one hand so the other could brush back his hair, determined not to rut against his face and failing miserably.
Your husband smiled into your dewy skin, delighting in the taste of you, the scent permeating his nose and fogging his mind until his only thought was of you and the pleasure he could elicit. His lips wrapped around your swollen clit, suckling it gently until you whimpered and whined, begging for mercy. He only conceded by releasing your pearl and using his teeth with reverential care to tug your puffy, blood-filled lips, letting go with an audible pop.
“Kento… oh shit—more!”
It was bliss when his nose nudged your clitoral hood, the bridge rubbing friction into your pubic mound until you were certain you wouldn’t be able to stand from the desk without help. Still, he took his time ravishing your sweet cunt between groaned words of praise. Every reverberation from his mouth resonated deep in the pit of your belly, tightening the coils of desire until you couldn’t draw breath.
With a sloppy slurp, Kento glanced up at your face twisted into pure pleasure. “You look like a feast in my shirt, sweetheart, taste delicious too.”
You couldn’t form a response, the words broken into pieces inside your brain and not even the syllables would come to you, only raw guttural noises. Your husband feasted on you atop his desk like never before, indenting your squishy thighs with the beginnings of marks from his fingertips.
The dam burst quite suddenly, catapulting you into an orgasm that saw you jolt upright, holding Kento by the back of his head to keep him buried in you. He groaned into the heart of you, eyes rolling over as the sweetest nectar he’d ever indulged in adorned his tongue in sticky trickles.
Once you started to return to your senses, you let him up only to whimper at the mess of his face. His chin and cheeks were slick with saliva and arousal, lips petal pink and swollen from his ministrations and he looked ready to blow a fuse.
“B-bed. Take me to bed, your work can wait until the morning…” you beseeched, fingering his jawline and desperately grateful when he bridged the gap to kiss you.
Without argument or debate, he stood from his chair and lifted you over his broad shoulder, an arm hooked around your thighs to secure you in place. You giggled at your upside-down view of his backside, still sensitive to his touch from the aftereffects of your orgasm, but at least you had managed to get him to bed.
You’d have to remember this tactic…
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Hey how are you? :3 I hope you doing amazing ^^
Honestly I came for your Nanami Series "Your Best friend's brother" and been just curious if Part 8 is soon? (Soon in terms of the next three months lol) Ik that writing does take its time or life gets easily busy, so no worries if it isn't \(^_^)/
I can patiently wait for everything youre writing about! Love your skills and style! ♡ keep up the good work dear!
(ﾉ´ з `)ノ and have a nice weekend ☆☆☆
Hi anon. Thanks for stopping by.
It was meant to be started these past few days but I got sick so that plan got trashed. I’m hoping to start the chapter soon so it’s not going to be months, but I do need a break over the weekend so I don’t burn myself out. I’m sure you can appreciate that.
Anyways, have a good weekend too!
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His Shirt [Nanami Kento]
an: this was a previous drabble I had for our beloved Kento but it needed a good tidy up and polish. For all those that love to wear their lover’s shirts…
pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: smutty smut, desk antics, pussy drunk Kento, fun manhandling (teehee)
Masterlist
The hour was late. The sky was midnight black, a dark canvas painted only by the stars peppered across the skyline. It wasn’t unusual for Kento to work late into the evening, but you couldn’t recall the last time it had been quite this late. How were you expected to fall asleep without his arm draped over your waist, his breath warming your neck, and his legs bent and flush behind yours?
After another fifteen minutes, you gave up your attempts of sleeping alone, and decided that if he wasn’t ready to come to bed on his own terms, you’d had to provide an incentive. Pulling a worn shirt from the laundry basket in the corner of the bedroom, your nose pressed into the starchy collar to inhale the remnants of his cologne, the faint aroma of coffee and his unique underlying scent—warmingly spicy and comforting. This would do nicely…
You tiptoed to the door of his office, giving a light knock. Not waiting for an invitation, you slipped inside and searched for the man hidden away in here—your man.
Kento sat behind his polished oak desk, a stack of papers to the side of his glowing laptop and a half-empty mug of coffee, that you would bet was stone cold, just out of reach. You admired the continued neat state of his parted hair, not a single strand out of place even after a long day. His shirt sleeves were folded back to his elbows and the tie was gone, but he still looked the picture of professionalism.
“Everything alright, sweetheart?” He drawled tiredly, not looking up from his work as you padded ever closer.
“No,” you whimpered theatrically, barely stopping yourself from adding a hand against your forehead.
His head snapped up immediately, rich hazel eyes widening as he took in the sight of you at last. A broad palm pressed the screen he’d been glaring at closed with a quiet snap, and you smirked behind your hand.
“Missed you… couldn’t sleep. Not without you, Ken.”
At last, an errant strand of blond hair fell into his eyes. Eyes that focused fixedly on how your fingers traced the bevelled edge of his desk. His throat felt suddenly dry, aroused immediately at you wrapped in one of his worn shirts. Kento noted that the buttons were only half done up, the crisp fabric bagging on your torso in places and exposing just enough of your skin to have him reaching for you.
Satisfied by his reaction, you happily stepped into his embrace, and let Kento settle you on the desk in front of him. Two large palms slid against your naked thighs, rough callouses pressing into your soft, smooth skin.
“Sweetheart, I had work to do,” he groaned out, leaning into your touch when your fingers carded into his lush hair.
“But…” he started, pulling your thighs wider apart and resting your feet on either side of his chair. “I could use a break and you happen to look especially inviting in my shirt.”
In this new position, your bare pussy was exposed to his hungry gaze. He untangled your fingers from his hair and guided both hands behind you to brace against the surface of his desk, pushing aside his stacks of work with his elbow in the process.
Kento fisted the tails of his shirt and dragged the material through your slippery folds. The friction was delicious, enough that you were already panting and flushed in the face. It was always arousing to watch him at work, especially when that work was making you shudder from his touch.
He noted the twist of your hips from the pressure of the material against your throbbing clit, irises glowing in the dim light of his office like a hearth stoked lovingly by a tender hand. Kento licked his lips in anticipation and lowered his face until he was gazing at you through hooded lids, making a show of inhaling your scent.
His tongue was hot and deliciously wet, the wide muscle danced boldly over your folds, pushing deeper to circle your entrance and teasing you over and over with the strong tip dipping past your ring of muscles. You keened for him, leaning onto one hand so the other could brush back his hair, determined not to rut against his face and failing miserably.
Your husband smiled into your dewy skin, delighting in the taste of you, the scent permeating his nose and fogging his mind until his only thought was of you and the pleasure he could elicit. His lips wrapped around your swollen clit, suckling it gently until you whimpered and whined, begging for mercy. He only conceded by releasing your pearl and using his teeth with reverential care to tug your puffy, blood-filled lips, letting go with an audible pop.
“Kento… oh shit—more!”
It was bliss when his nose nudged your clitoral hood, the bridge rubbing friction into your pubic mound until you were certain you wouldn’t be able to stand from the desk without help. Still, he took his time ravishing your sweet cunt between groaned words of praise. Every reverberation from his mouth resonated deep in the pit of your belly, tightening the coils of desire until you couldn’t draw breath.
With a sloppy slurp, Kento glanced up at your face twisted into pure pleasure. “You look like a feast in my shirt, sweetheart, taste delicious too.”
You couldn’t form a response, the words broken into pieces inside your brain and not even the syllables would come to you, only raw guttural noises. Your husband feasted on you atop his desk like never before, indenting your squishy thighs with the beginnings of marks from his fingertips.
The dam burst quite suddenly, catapulting you into an orgasm that saw you jolt upright, holding Kento by the back of his head to keep him buried in you. He groaned into the heart of you, eyes rolling over as the sweetest nectar he’d ever indulged in adorned his tongue in sticky trickles.
Once you started to return to your senses, you let him up only to whimper at the mess of his face. His chin and cheeks were slick with saliva and arousal, lips petal pink and swollen from his ministrations and he looked ready to blow a fuse.
“B-bed. Take me to bed, your work can wait until the morning…” you beseeched, fingering his jawline and desperately grateful when he bridged the gap to kiss you.
Without argument or debate, he stood from his chair and lifted you over his broad shoulder, an arm hooked around your thighs to secure you in place. You giggled at your upside-down view of his backside, still sensitive to his touch from the aftereffects of your orgasm, but at least you had managed to get him to bed.
You’d have to remember this tactic…
#delirious writes#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami smut#nanami kento smut#kento smut#kento nanami#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut
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Oh we are a monster… a dang monster for that. Poor Hiromi 😭 but he should know that they sound different… *sips tea* ☕️
Domestic Bliss: Higuruma Hiromi #1, Fire alarm
Chirp.
"Alright, alright...so it's not that one," Hiromi huffed, moving from beneath the fire alarm in the kitchen, to below the fire alarm in the living room. He stood there, tapping his foot, hands on his hips, waiting for the telltale bleep of a fire alarm running out of battery.
Chirp.
"Fuck's sake..." Hiromi grumbled, walking round the corner to the dining room. You could hear the annoyance fizzling off him, from your spot in the kitchen, sipping tea and watching your husband unfold.
Chirp.
"Come on," Hiromi spat, and you heard the thudthudthud of him running upstairs, two at a time. Irritated foot tapping from the landing. You flicked the kettle on. You waited.
Chirp.
"Fucking...fine. Alright. Last one then, you little--" The sounds of Hiromi stomping to your bedroom rumbled above your head. You poured two fresh cups. You stirred, and stopped, pausing to listen.
Chirp.
A roar of frustration from somewhere above you.
"Impossible, it's impossible, I'VE LISTENED TO ALL OF YOU NOW--"
You'd tell Hiromi it was the Carbon Monoxide alarm above the boiler that was bleeping, soon. Soon. Eventually.
#I love domestic fluff like this#gets me right in the feels#higuruma hiromi#higuruma hiromi x reader#higuruma fluff
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Wow… yeah. That is me. I knew exactly where it was going before it did. That poor man. A perfect husband though. There will always be something to get before he gets to sit down.
Domestic Bliss: Nanami Kento #2, Indentured Servitude
Sighing, and draping the dishcloth over the sink, Kento walked to the living room. He was fully prepared. He couldn't wait to settle down for the evening. There was nothing he could possibly have left to do.
You were sat on the sofa, curled up, scrolling on your phone. Kento approached slowly, cautionary, waiting. His eyes narrowed at you as he got closer, and closer, hovering by his seat. You did not look up. You didn't make a sound.
Achingly slowly, and with abject suspicion, Kento lowered himself to sit on the sofa beside you. Until--
"Kento, could you just get me--"
"A glass of water? Yes. It's right there on the coffee table, beside a fresh cup of tea. A fresh cup of coffee, too, on the chance that you just fancy a coffee actually. Your hot water bottle is here, nice and warm. I cleaned the blanket today, it's behind your head. There are snacks beside you, some sweet, some salty, some chewy, some crunchy. I've got your book that you probably won't read, but just in case, it's here. Here's the TV remote, and the other TV remote, and the remote for the lamp. Your phone charger is plugged in, and the cable is tucked in the cushion beside you. The laundry is done, the dishes are cleaned, our clothes are ironed for tomorrow, and I've ordered those storage boxes you wanted."
You looked up at Kento mulishly, nodding slowly, finger still hovering over your phone. You smiled sweetly. Kento's eyes narrowed further, a challenging smile on the corner of his mouth.
"Is there anything else you need, darling?" You batted your eyelashes up at him.
"...no, don't think so."
Kento sighed again, and moved to sit down.
"Oh, actually! Some socks, please. My feet are freezing."
You heard Kento grumble all the way to the dresser.
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I’ve got so much reading to catch up on 🤦♀️
#whispers into the void#I hate how unproductive this week has been#yes I was real sick yesterday but I like to beat myself up anyway
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@ fic authors what do you personally consider a successful fic? What’s the bar?
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I’m sick and it has ruined my entire day. Everything I planned to do has been scrapped cause I can’t even get out of bed for long. It came out of nowhere and nothing seems to be helping. 🤒
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May I pet you? Uh… I mean your cat, yes, the cat. 😏
pov: you see a hot barista in cat cafe😋🤓😼
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I love him. I love him in every universe, in every stressed out situation. I love him whimpering and needy. I love him pussydrunk and commanding. I love how you write him.
Behind the Wall
Who was this stressed, suited man...and how could you love him so easily?
A Higuruma Hiromi glory-hole story.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, feral smut and falling in love with a stranger.
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You knew him only as the man in the black and white suit. You had only seen the briefest glimpse of his clothes through your glory hole, after all.
"I don't normally-- I've never done this before...not that kind of guy--" he apologised, on the other side of the wall. His voice was smooth, deep and kind. You felt a little bubble of affection in your belly already.
"...well...I'm not that kind of girl," you teased, peeking a single come hither beckoning finger out of the glory hole, inviting him to your mouth, "...but something's got to pay the bills."
You heard the man's breath hitch, a shudder. You heard him unzip himself, and you settled on your knees, wiggling in anticipation. Waiting for a job to come up in a legal office was long...and while this wasn't the best use of your Law degree, you couldn't help but feel the thrill of doing something so sordid.
A cock, only half-hard and uncertain, but still so long, thick and pink-tipped beneath his silky foreskin, was eased gently through the hole. His voice sounded worried for you on the other side, and you pressed your fingers over your mouth, suppressing a smile.
"I'm...I'm not sure-- are you...are you sure?" The man in the suit stuttered. You leaned forwards, ghosting your lips over his cockhead, and the man gasped and moaned, a little trickle of salty pre-cum wetting your lips;
"Shhhh...you sound stressed," you cooed, "and I enjoy this, too. So let's have some fun." You held his length in your hand, and were satisfied to hear him whine and tremble, the dull knock of his hands and a knee pressing against the other wall. His cock swelled in your hand, twitching, and you rolled your thumb over his wet cockhead beneath the stretching hood of his foreskin.
"--so-- so stressed," he whined, pleading and begging you, "...you don't even... don't even know how bad...how bad my week has been..." His moans fractured as you began to pump his cock with your hand, from ball to tip, and he rutted forwards into your fist, "...haven't cum...can't remember the last time...so long...haaaah fuck, perfect, pleasepleaseplease, feels so good..."
"Yeah?" You whispered, bottom lip between your teeth, eyes closed as you drank down his little moans and gasps, purring at him, "Does that feel good? You sound desperate, baby. I bet you work so hard."
He whimpered into the affection; "--g-god yeah...feels amazing...your hand, fuck-- work so hard, s--so so hard...not got...don't have...have anyone, shit-- ohhhh-hhhhh--hh not gonna...not gonna last..."
You felt his cum-tight balls as you reached through, pulling them gently through the hole to massage them at the base of his cock. Your man cried out, all strained whimpers and cursing, and you heard his fingernails scrape against the other side of the wall; "Tell me what you want, beautiful stressed boy...how can I help you?"
"--spit--spit on my cock pleasepleaseplease in your mouth, pl--" He broke off into delirious shudders to feel your hot little mouth slick tightly around his cockhead, squeezing your lips into a tight ring, and using them to push his foreskin down as you sucked him into your mouth. With your tongue cupping his length while you sucked, bobbing your mouth around him, smooth and tasting his little spurts of pre-cum, his moans shot straight through you.
You hadn't felt as aroused as this, pleasuring a client before, but something about his frantic, begging desperation set your clit throbbing. Your hand drifted lazily between your legs, slipping between your glossy wet folds, rolling your clit under two fingers. You moaned around his length, and he cried out, cock throbbing, close to the edge.
Pulling your mouth back, and jacking off his red, aching cock with your spit and fist, you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear; "You sound so pretty, you've even got me touching myself--"
That was the last straw; your man in the rumpled suit came with a bark, sandy curses and whimpers. You took him back into your mouth, feeling heavy pulses of seed spilling out onto your tongue, flooding your mouth-- it obviously had been a long time for him.
"--arrrrghh god yes, shit, thank you-- so perfect, fuck, thank you-- oh ffff--ffuuuck in your mouth too...you're too good-- don't deserve-- dont deserve you--...haaaah...ahhhhh..."
You heard the wall tremble as your man came down from his high. His ears ringing, he vaguely heard your swallow. A weak whimper left him, and you giggled as another spurt of cum dampened your lips. You licked him clean, leaving him shivering with overstimulation, before placing a sweet little kiss to his cockhead.
"...come see me again?"
"F-fuck yes, absolutely-- absolutely."
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You had barely worked that week, lost in job-hunting, coming up empty-handed at every turn. It was five days before you made it back to the glory hole, happily receiving a generous payment, and wondering vaguely about your stressed, lonely man in the rumpled suit. You settled in your booth; it took him just a few minutes to find you.
"...is it...is it you?" He asked tentatively. You grinned, nudging yourself forwards on your knees, just out of eyesight behind the gloryhole. You blushed, shaking yourself off as being ridiculous.
"...do you mean me?" You offered. You heard his sigh of delight. He laughed, a deep, rich sound.
"I worried I'd scared you away," he teased. You heard him start to unzip himself, before hesitating, "Uhm...can we...?"
"Quick," you whispered conspiratorially, "put something in my mouth before I start talking at you." He laughed again, a sound that sent flutters of butterflies through your tummy. His cock, already rock-hard and glistening at the tip, was pressed through the hole. You reached through to cup his balls, softly bringing them through. He shuddered; he had clearly been hoping you'd cup his sensitive balls for him again.
"You like it when I do this...?" You teased, rolling his heavy balls in one palm. Hearing him groan, and sigh with relief into your touch, you leaned your cheek against the wall, admiring the weight of him in your hand as you massaged him.
"...I...never knew I did, but...you're so good at it...shit, feel like I could cum-- cum just from that--"
"Hush," you mocked him, just to hear his shaking laugh again, "you deserve so much more than that." Taking his cock into your mouth, determined to take him into your throat this time, you revelled in the dulcet tones of him falling apart inside your hot little mouth again. You swirled your tongue around his cockhead, swiping into his leaking slit, suckling, examining, measuring him with your throat.
Your stressed man bucked involuntarily to feel his blunt cockhead stroke the back of your throat, and you gagged, swallowing around him. He wasn't able to last long, feeling the sides of your throat stretch around his leaking cock.
"--haaa--aaahhhhh fuck'msosorry...feel s'good...like this...haaahh fuckkkk....do you...do you like to read?"
Your throat convulsed around his length, sputtering as you burst into laughter. Your rumpled man convulsed too, swearing and stuttering as his orgasm hit him like a bus. You tried to catch his cum in your hand and mouth, but knelt, still laughing, his seed dripping down your cheeks as he groaned, bucking forwards, cock bounding thick spatters of seed onto you.
"...do I like to read?" You laughed, masturbating him to bring him down from his high. He whimpered into your wall again, a sound which was gradually conditioning you, into pussy-aching wetness.
"...I'm sorry, I...I just...fucking ignore me, I'm an idiot, I just..."
You laughed again, the twinkling sound shooting through him like daggers.
"...just...wanted to get to know you," he mumbled, and you could hear the mortified little pout through the wall.
You couldn't wait to see your rumpled man again. You didn't know how you resisted looking through the hole at him as he walked away. You called after him, and heard his footsteps hesitate for a moment, before he snorted with mirth.
"I love to read!"
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"I want...to try something different this time. Please."
Your rumpled man sounded hoarse. His voice was tight, clipped. You could feel the stress pounding off him in waves, through your little window to him.
"...what would you like?" You answered, as if to a lover, not a client.
"Can you...can you come to the other window, instead?"
Ah...the gloryhole for fucking. A little flat bench where your ass, pussy and legs could lay, your body separated by a wall and curtain. Your eyelids fluttered to imagine the cock you knew well by now, stretching your pussy open, your mystery man clutching your thighs as he fucked into you. You imagined those desperate whimpers and moans for your cunt, instead of your mouth, and it made you throb.
"I mean...I don't normally..." you hesitated, feeling a twang of regret to disappoint him.
"No," he urged, sounding so fractious and desperate, "not that. I promise, not that. You...another time. Another way. I want...want to eat you out. Please."
You faltered again, arguing with him; "This is meant to be about you, not me, I'll take care of you--"
"Trust me," he begged, his palms flat on the wall now, "...this...this is what I need. I mean it. Please. Please."
God knew you couldn't resist his begging. You felt a trickle of arousal seep out of you, dampening your panties. The thought of that groaning mouth around your clit set you on fire.
"Well...alright then. If you insist." You moved round to the next window, and heard him follow, pacing and predatory. You shimmied out of your panties, swallowing thickly before you crept your ass and legs out of the window, down the table. When you settled, legs open, feeling so exposed, his palms held your thighs. You heard him curse under his breath.
"Fuck...you're beautiful." Your man said it so sincerely, in that lusty-low voice, that you blushed, your hands over your face as you lay on your back. You felt your thighs confidently lifted, draped over strong, broad shoulders. His voice was deep, hungry.
"...hope you've got something to hold onto, back there, my love."
Fuck, how you saw stars. You cried out in genuine bliss as he sunk his face between your folds. You tried climbing up desperately on your elbows to see him, but were woefully obscured by a black curtain. You could feel a powerful, prominent nose bridge nuzzling across your clit, that clever to gue plunging into your hole.
Those familiar groans, husky whispers and moans, we're now muffled by your pussy. Your rumpled man was drinking the life out of you, making you twist and write, sucking your clit into his mouth with such force that you instinctively shied away up the couch. He gripped your thighs, yanking them back over his shoulders as you squeaked. He growled, sinking his prominent front teeth into the soft inner squish of your thighs.
"No. Get back here so I can fuck you with my mouth." You sobbed against the pleasure, your toes curling against the backs of his shoulders. Crying out as he shook his head from side-to-side with a rusty growl, you twitched and jerked, having never felt yourself dragged to orgasm so forcefully.
"Oh my fuc--fucking god, you're so good at that-- oh fuck don't stop-- don't stop don'tstopdon'tstoppleasepleaseplease--"
You didn't need to beg to make him continue. Already feeling on the edge of a savage high, you felt three long fingers, bunched together and lubricated with his own spit, plunge into your hole. A high, keening cry left you, and he found your soft spot immediately, fucking his fingertips against your belly.
"--thassit--fucking amazing...beautiful girl, c'mon...deserve the best, shit--"
One final suck of your clit into his mouth had you rolling over the edge. Silence rang from the other active booths around you, the clients and girls listening in awe as you moaned and whimpered your way through the most spectacular orgasm you'd ever felt. Your hands plunged past the curtain into his hair, tugging on it, thick and silky between your fingers.
Your rumpled man was groaning, whimpering, those familiar sounds you knew he only made when he came. Ths silence rang loudly through the booths, as you both came down from your highs.
One little voice from somewhere across the room; "...fucking hell." A few smattered laughs, and the slow sounds of others continuing their work of mouths and hands. You were dazed, lost on cloud nine, panting. Your hands came back to you, some inky black strands caught between your fingers. That familiar voice between your legs, so much less tense now.
"...so, uh...reckon I could get a job here? Do I pass the interview?"
You couldn't help how you laughed.
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"...have you...do you see anyone else...apart from me?"
Why did you feel so guilty?
"I...I do, yeah. No regulars though. And nobody I actually enjoy, like...like you." It was true. Your goofy, stressed, rumpled man had ruined you for anyone else. You felt a jealous prickle from him on the other side of the wall.
"...I....do you have to keep doing this?" He pleaded with you.
"...well...can't find any legal secretary jobs, so--"
"Excuse me?"
You faltered. Had you said something wrong? You began to repeat yourself, but he interrupted you.
"All this time...I'm a-- I'm a lawyer," he choked out, and you ran cold, stunned. You laughed nervously.
"...so that's why you're so stressed." He laughed with you, swearing quietly to himself.
"I'm sure..." he offered, sly and sincere, "...I'm sure we could do with another legal secretary."
You knelt, stunned, your mouth dry and heart pounding in anticipation. You heard him speak again.
"Listen... how about you come out here, and say hello properly...and I take you out for dinner? No strings, no expectations, just...dinner."
You were silent. He begged.
"Please...I've got to see you. Please."
Trembling, pulling your clothes on, you acquiesced. Before stepping out from behind the back curtain, your shaking voice joked; "Well, you asked for it...drumroll please."
You laughed to hear him patter two hands rapidly on the wall. You stepped out.
Tall. Black-haired. Hooked-nosed. Hangdog-eyed. And, staring into you, as if you were a goddess made flesh. You had never felt so beautiful. He turned, and blushed, his hands cupping his mouth and nose as he looked towards the ceiling. He groaned, mortified at his past behaviour.
"...you never told me you were so lovely."
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Every night this week has ended with me getting a crazy annoying headache. Ugh… can’t I be a cute, pain free girly who writes porn for her favourite animated men and skips through life all merrily?
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I cannot stop writing for Higuruma. I swear it feels like some heavenly curse at this point because he is a wonderful man to write for, but my goodness he fills my mind so entirely that it’s hard to focus on my other WIPs!
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--Wink, please.
--Clumsy
#he’s precious… it’s okay silly billy everyone makes mistakes#is he blushing cause he blinked instead of winked? 😭#that’s so cute#higuruma hiromi#jjk fanart
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His Hands [Nanami Kento]
an: it's been a hot minute since I wrote for him, but with the latest developments and the insane about of Kento content on my dash, I couldn't help myself. This is a love letter to his hands...
pairing: Nanami Kento x female reader
warnings: hair pulling, manhandling, light choking, mark marking, daddy kink, dirty talk, mating press, doggy (all implied), some comfort and fluff because he deserves it
Nanami Kento is not a white knight.
He is not a righteous man, nor is he morally virtuous. Nanami makes no qualms about expressing what matters most to him – his time, his students and most importantly, you. If that means he has to stray into the murky grey areas of ethics then so be it. If that means there is collateral damage in ensuring the safety of his precious priorities, it matters not. However, Nanami Kento is a good man.
Fatigue has been his constant companion these past few weeks. His eyes are weary and less focused than usual, his jaw tight with seemingly endless worry and his hair tousled as if he had run fingers through it time and again. You didn’t know the exact cause of his current demeanour, all you did know was that it was your job to relieve it, at least temporarily.
Hazel eyes met yours. A tight smile faint on his lips whilst you moved from being tucked into his side to straddling his lap. Kento’s head fell back against the couch, his gaze bouncing between your eyes, simply content to observe whatever it was you were up to. Your fingers delicately wrapped around his wrist, brushing against the heavy weight of his timepiece and lifting it to your chest. His hands were rough, callouses built up along the edges of his fingertips and palm through extended training and workouts that would see him dripping in sweat.
“Y’know… I’ve always loved these hands.” An exploratory finger ran over his knuckles, the skin shiny and new from where they had not long been split open. It wasn’t an exaggeration–you did love his hands and what they could do.
An amused huff was his reply, fingers flexing in and out of a loose fist whilst you continued your journey over the wide expanse that was his hand—traversing the depths of his life line only to circle down and stroke over the pad of his thumb. How many times had you helped to patch him up after being injured in the line of duty? Too many. Bloody rags filled the bathroom sink and the smell of antiseptic stung your nose, but you’d rather do it yourself than let him tend to himself. There was no point in telling him you worried, he knew that, instead you filled the silence with the mundane moments of your day to distract him from the stark contrast of his horror-filled one.
“They’re strong and they keep me safe,” you muse almost to yourself. Unbeknownst to you, Kento’s eyebrows lift. His eyes sharpen, throwing off the dregs of tiredness to watch more fixedly at you touching him with a reverence he didn’t believe he deserved. Would you still love them if you knew what he had done with them? Of the violence they had been a part of, the injuries and deaths he had inflicted with them. As if you didn’t already know…
“Sweetheart–” The argument he had readied fell away when you lifted his hand higher, towards your throat. His thick fingers could feel the steady beat of your pulse, no jump in fear of danger, only complete trust. He swallowed; the bob of his Adam’s apple near painful.
Your breathing sped up, knees shuffling forward to bracket his lean hips and pressing your delicate skin further into his careful grasp. Memories rose to the surface of your mind like stones skimming across a peaceful lake, rippling outward until the phantom sensations of days gone by washed over you.
The searing burn of Kento’s large palm swatting at your soft ass; whether in encouragement when your thighs tired of riding him to completion or in admonishment for some very deliberate attempts at stealing away his attention in the midst of his paperwork.
The gentle grip of your ankles when he folded your thighs flush against your chest to be able to plunge deeper into your sopping cunt. His tender hold was the perfect counterbalance to how savagely he was splitting you open. Lazy circles of his thumbs against your delicate ankle bones all whilst you ringed his cock with thick cream and his pelvis smacked wetly against you.
The prickle of your scalp at the sudden yank at the roots of your hair. That deliciously big, thick hand that you adored wrapping your hair so tightly into a makeshift ponytail that you had no choice but to rear back. Warm breath fanning your cheek and neck, the deep rasp of Kento’s words caressing your ear despite how depraved his words were. “Fuck… that’s it, baby… Taking Daddy’s cock like a champ… Let me see that arch… Look at this pretty pussy sucking me back in…”
Nanami had a way of handling you exactly as you needed at any given moment. He wasn’t afraid you’d break like some fragile doll, knowing that you more than enjoyed his manhandling. He could sense how turned on it made you when he would scoop you up like you weighed nothing. Taking your weight into his arms when he fucked you against the hallway wall in those moments he simply couldn’t wait to reach the bedroom. You were his pliant little cocksleeve. His perfect pussy.
With the rough came the smooth. How tenderly his fingers would coast down the length of your spine in the warmth of the morning, stopping to admire the curve of your waist, the flare of your hips and the ripple of your backside when he squeezed it lightly.
The soft touches against the bruises he had left the night before on your waist and hips. Each one a mark of his possession that he would never fail to become aroused by. The marks of his fingertips, the indent of his teeth on the swell of your sensitive inner thigh. If he were an animal he would scent mark you like the dog he sometimes felt like, rub himself all over you until you were bathed in his musk.
Interlocked fingers and tickles on the palm of your hands. The reassurance that you were by his side when you strolled the sidewalk together, Kento always nearest the traffic and the ability to tug you close with the flick of his wrist.
“I don’t care what these hands might have done to those that deserved whatever fate they befell. All I know is that I love them, and there isn’t anyone I would trust more to hold my heart.”
He nodded, and you knew that would be the best you would get in the form of agreement to your words. The coiled muscles in his forearm tightened, tendons contracting and his fingers squeezing a fraction tighter atop your carotid arteries. You hummed in contentment, eyelids growing heavy and his hand slipped free of your loose hold to rest over your heart whilst the other pressed between your shoulder blades to bring you to his lips.
So, no, Nanami isn’t a white knight but he is the best man you’ve ever been fortunate enough to meet. You would help him face whatever demons were lurking nearby, and with your support and unconditional love, maybe–just maybe–he’d make it back to you in one piece.
Heaven knows he deserved some time off.
#srb#since I got a notif for this little gem why not reblog it#goddamn I love this man and his hands
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