capricornlevi

[capricornlevi]

inevitability- nanami x f!reader

tags: friends to lovers, salaryman!nanami, breeding, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, mating press, creampie, mild cumplay

cw: alcohol (all sex sober & consensual!), pregnancy mentions, rough but v v consensual sex, reader and nanami are both in their late 20s/early 30s

word count: 5.3k

a/n: in which your decide with your good friend of many years that it's time to get you pregnant <3 this has been festering in my brain and i know it's pretty different than what i usually write but ! here it is! ahh! sounds of me screaming!

//

"this is weird, y'know?" you blurt out, watching as nanami hangs up his jacket by your front door before settling down beside you on the couch. he keeps a respectful distance, resting his hands on his broad thighs and smoothing down the fabric of his slacks, clearly nervous. "this is very, very weird. like, weird at levels i don't think people have achieved before."

"i know," nanami replies diplomatically, as if he could be anything but excruciatingly aware of how unconventional this is. "are you having second thoughts? because i completely understand --"

you shake your head abruptly. "no, no, just ... thinking aloud, i guess. just getting used to this, because it's really ... um ..."

"weird?" nanami offers helpfully, and you turn to nod.

"weird."

because what else do you call agreeing to have a baby with your platonic friend of 10 years?

you first met nanami on the second day of college and knew right away he'd be a good dad, even back when having kids wasn't even a consideration for you. it was obvious; he was already a good dad back then, with how he looked out for his underclassmen even as he progressed through his degree. how he stayed sober when he knew people would be going overboard, not sleeping until you texted him to confirm you'd gotten home safe after a party.

he helped you study at the weekends and, in return, you provided him with a discount at the local cafe where you worked. through this time spent knocking back americanos and proofing each other's work, you grew close.

even with all his responsibility and good sense contrasting your exuberance and recklessness, you found yourself enjoying being with him. and he could be funny, too, delivering sharp and witty quips when you least expected it.

you became inseparable. insufferable, some would call it; the matching-halloween-costume type of insufferable, a borderline codependent but obliviously happy friendship that can only be fostered on a college campus.

then right after college, when you had dived straight into your quarter-life crisis and dyed your hair every colour under the sun, got piercings in too many places, slept with questionable people and dated some even worse, nanami had gotten himself a decent, impressive, well-paying job. it was a job that had him wearing tailored suits at 23, paired with fancy glasses that cost more than your rent, and you'd laughed at him, at how serious he looked. but you also worried at how the bags under his eyes grew deeper and darker, how the amused lilt to his voice started to dissipate as time went on.

his 9 to 5 turned to an 8 to 6, and then he was working weekends and skipping movie nights, missing out on meeting new boyfriends of yours, fading into the periphery of your life with you unable to do anything about it.

as with all relationships in your twenties, it was hard to stay in touch. the higher he climbed up the career ladder, the further you grew apart.

soon, it was only on holidays or birthdays when you both would reach out, cordial and civil but achingly unfamiliar.

then, on your twenty-ninth birthday, drunk at a bar and having taken a couple minutes away from your raucous friend group, you had stepped outside to grab some fresh air only to walk head-on into nanami's firm chest.

you had spluttered apologies, lifting your head to see who you had headbutted, only to find your old friend looking down at you with an amused look on his face.

and just like that, things picked up where they left off. you spent the night talking, catching up over drinks and laughter.

with a tone that was only half-teasing, you had asked him what brought him out tonight -- it was hard enough to get him to come out for drinks when you were both in college, much less now with his big fancy job.

but he had laughed in that gentle, airy way you'd heard a thousand times, explaining that he had been out socialising with clients who had just left minutes before. he was just on his way out before running into you.

perfect timing. painfully perfect.

you stayed talking until last call, making exhilarated promises to get in touch the next day.

and to your surprise, you both actually stuck to that.

in the ten months since then, you've met up every sunday for breakfast at your favourite cafe. over lattes and freshly baked croissants, you fill each other in on the details of the half-decade spent apart. he had a serious girlfriend, serious to the point of moving in together, but she'd gotten spooked and left him last summer to go travelling. he was hurt, obviously, but understood her perspective in that annoyingly calm, measured way that is just part of his nature.

and on your end -- despite the drunken circumstances in which you'd been reacquainted, which is all part of moderation, after all -- you've actually calmed down considerably since your early twenties.

you have your own apartment. you have a rescue cat you care for immensely, even when he tries wriggling out of your arms to go stare out the window at passing cyclists. you have a retirement fund, started yoga, learned to bake your own bread.

you're not boring, you still have fun and let off steam whenever you can, but you're having the sort of revelations about life that nanami seems to have had years ago.

fun is good. fun is important. but it can't be everything, because then it starts to come at a cost.

truthfully, the birth of your nephew is what prompted you to make some changes. you didn't want to show up to babysit hungover. you wanted to have funds to hand in order to treat him to little toys and sweets when your sister allowed it, and soon found yourself amazed at how his little face lit up every time he saw you.

it made you grow up, and fast.

in the course of your cafe hangouts, you had mentioned your nephew to nanami. showed pictures of the boy's pudgy little hands reaching for the camera, told stories of how he could tell the difference between new episodes of Bluey versus reruns, and how he's changed your entire life without even realising.

soon, talk about your nephew turned to general musings about your own future.

then one night, when you decided to switch your meetup location from the cafe to a cocktail bar, you shared something that you had barely admitted to yourself.

you wanted to have a kid.

this realisation wasn't borne from some crisis about entering a new decade, it wasn't something forced on you by others or general societal pressure. it was something that grew organically, inspired by the honour of watching your little nephew grow up.

to your surprise, nanami didn't scoff or dismiss you. you figured he'd have rolled his eyes, laughing off your confession since you weren't in a committed relationship.

instead, he expressed similar sentiments, but for slightly different reasons.

"i'm sick of work being my whole life," he had mused quickly, sipping an old fashioned with a funny look in his eye. "it was only when we started hanging out again that i realised how much of my life I've wasted at a place that wouldn't care if i lived or died."

"do i need to be worried about you having the type of rebellious streak the rest of us went through ten years ago?" you asked, smiling and fidgeting with one of your rings without thinking.

he waved off your suggestion with a fond roll of his eyes. "i'm not impulsively quitting or anything, don't worry. just want to take a step back, i suppose, or find something with shorter hours. i just think there's more to life than endless hours slaving behind a desk."

you toasted to that sentiment, knocking back the last of your cosmo.

nanami continued, watching you set your empty glass back down with a soft grin on his lips. "the whole family, kids thing ... i get it, you know? it makes sense."

"yeah?" you pried carefully, interested to see where this is going.

"i'd be lying if i said i didn't think about it, too. i have a nest egg saved up which means i'd be able to take time off to help with a kid, to actually be there to see them grow up. and it's not that i want to have one just because i think i need to -- i think i'd be decent at it, y'know? the whole parenting thing."

you obviously agreed. you'd thought the same for a while now, and getting reacquainted with the man has only spurred on those thoughts.

he really would be perfect.

the issue wasn't discussed further that night, but it was brought up again at coffee the following sunday, then at the bakery the week after that, and before long, it was your birthday again.

after a massive party with all your friends and family -- and a little too much wine -- nanami had stayed behind to help you clean up, because of course he would, and you got to talking again, got to revisiting that topic that had been at the back of both of your minds.

you can't remember the exact wording of the discussion or how many bottles of prosecco fuelled the conversation, but what you do know is that when you sobered up, you didn't regret agreeing to it.

you were gonna have a kid together.

you and nanami.

coparenting.

as outlandish an idea as it might seme on the surface, when looking at it a little deeper, it made sense to you. this wasn't decided on a whim. this was something that had momentum building behind it for months and months, perhaps even years, without you even realising.

when meeting up for coffee the following week, you both gave each other an out. said there'd be no big deal if things were called off. but neither one of you took it, despite laughing for what felt like hours about how bizarre it all felt.

still, no sign of backing out.

which brings you to tonight, the agreed-upon date of when you'd start trying.

nanami had suggested using artificial fertility methods if that made you more comfortable, but you politely turned him down, thinking it unnecessary. he wasn't a stranger -- plus, you'd be lying if you said he wasn't objectively attractive -- so if he had no objections to trying things the old-fashioned way, then you didn't either.

and he obviously didn't mind too much since he's now here on your couch, folding his arms and then unfolding them as he waited for you to make the first move.

he looks good, despite all the nerves. he's filled out over the years, though he was always strong, with every muscle in his body well-defined and perfectly proportional. his hair is still blond but with the faintest specks of grey, his skin brighter and more well-rested than that night you got reacquainted.

his deep brown eyes stay fixed on you and your skin heats as his gaze traces over you.

"do you want me to kiss you?" you break the silence, the words tumble messily from your mouth.

he looks taken aback, as if this was something he'd vaguely considered but never thought would actually happen.

"do ... do you want to?"

his earnestness has you smiling, cutting through the tension, and you meet his eyes properly for the first time since he arrived tonight. he always has this way of making you feel comfortable, his presence alone is like an embrace that calms the racing thoughts that constantly occupy your mind.

it's only now that you're close, so close, you realise that maybe you really do want to --

"i wouldn't suggest it otherwise," you murmur softly as if your heart isn't hammering against your ribcage, shifting nearer to him on the couch but keeping that last bridge of distance for him to close.

his tongue swipes over his lower lip, almost subconsciously demonstrating his wishes as his line of sight drifts down to your mouth. he nods then, dipping his head, only a couple inches of space between you now.

"yeah -- yeah, okay."

you can see how his pupils dilate as you reach out to slip his glasses off, setting them down on the coffee table, cupping his face in your hands.

he returns your smile at that gesture, just the slightest hint of nerves in his eyes that disappear when he finally decides to press your lips to yours.

his lips are softer than you imagined ... though until this very moment, you hadn't even realised that this was something you had imagined.

he lets you set the rhythm but doesn't shy away; he meets your movements, your energy at every kiss, letting you stop for a moment to adjust yourself as things progress.

this should feel weird, right? you should have some lingering feeling of awkwardness at making out with your best friend, at taking his hand in yours and setting it down on your thigh to show you want him to touch you?

this was supposed to be a relatively unromantic event, after all. it wasn't meant to be the start of anything. though it was never clinical or unemotional -- you're technically starting a family together, after all, if an entirely unconventional one -- you never foresaw it going down like this.

this feels like something that was meant to happen.

he pulls back ever-so-slightly, lips still grazing against yours as he asks softly, "this okay?"

you nod by way of answer, not wanting to waste another second not kissing him. nanami captures your lips with his again, and with renewed enthusiasm, slips his tongue into your mouth, probing gently and barely hiding the low rumble of a groan deep in his throat.

all thoughts of propriety start to fade into the ether. his hand on your thigh burns hot, shifting up and down the exposed skin. you'd worn a nice dress for the evening, unsure of the dress code for an event as strange as this, but you find yourself grateful for choosing something that fell so far above the knee.

his hands are rougher than his lips but not in an unpleasant way. you figure it's from his only out-of-work hobby that doesn't consist of hanging out with you; his renovation group. nanami is part of a volunteer organisation that helps build and renovate houses for those in need -- as if he couldn't get any more painfully perfect, obviously.

you stay like that for a few more minutes, exploring these new sensations and becoming increasingly more aware of the ball of anticipation burning in your lower stomach. everywhere he touches you feels warm, every soft nip against your lips feels electric.

then, against every instinct in your body, you force yourself to pause to take a few steadying breaths. nanami responds in the same way, pulling his hands back to his own thighs, adjusting his stance on the couch.

he's hard, you can see as much from the awkward way he shuffles in his seat. not to mention the bulge very obviously visible in the front of his slacks -- just seeing it fills you with want, with the need to touch and be touched.

this is moving more fluidly than you had expected, arriving at each decision without a second thought. in that vein, you decide to ask:

"want to head to the bedroom?", hoping you don't sound as desperate as you're feeling. "if you're ready -"

"yes," he responds before you've even finished your sentence. you feel grateful that the eagerness is not one-sided as you get to your feet, taking nanami by the hand to pull him up with you.

when you've reached your room and the door is shut behind you, revealing the modest set up of your freshly-made bed and a single scented candle -- any more than that felt a little too forced, too awkward -- you marvel at the feeling of nanami's hands on your hips, somehow gentle and firm at the same time, manoeuvring you onto the bed with a pre-rehearsed confidence that never verges on forceful.

your head hasn't even hit the pillow before he's kissing you again like he's starving for it. it's messy this time, the gentle exploration from before giving way to something more primal and urgent.

you have to remind yourself that this is your nanami you're kissing. the nanami who was there for you through the most painful college breakups. the nanami who knows your coffee order, who helped zip up the back of your graduation dress.

but now, with his tongue against yours and the stiffness pressing against your stomach, all you can think is why you didn't do this sooner?

just as you're about to combust underneath him, he pulls back, balancing himself on an elbow as his eyes flick down to see how your dress is bunched at the top of your thighs. he closes his eyes, his breaths ragged and unsteady.

"i don't know how--" he whispers, tongue gliding over his kiss-slick lips, "how ... technical you might want to go about this."

you let out a little laugh, craning your neck to kiss his jawline so he knows it's not at his expense.

"i never really thought about the technicalities, but it doesn't have to be too clinical, or anything. i know you, you know me. we can just ... have sex."

"have sex," he repeats slowly, eyes open again, the hint of a grin on his face.

"yeah, have sex!" you answer with a chuckle. "or is there another way you'd like me to phrase it?"

he laughs then too, looking at you again as he shakes his head softly.

"what?" you press him with a mock indignance. "it's rude to laugh at my suggestion, actually. i felt it was pretty accurate."

"i'm not laughing at you," he says gently, lips still curved upwards. "just ... i must have pictured you saying those words a thousand times, and i never thought it -- it's just funny to hear out loud, is all."

it takes you a second to fully comprehend the words as they wash over you.

you'd be ignorant to say that the realisation never dawned on you, but it was something you thought was a relic of your college years. he had blushed a few times too many whenever the topic of sex came up at parties, had a hint of jealousy in his voice when giving advice about one particular ex-boyfriend. at your apartment complex's winter party in senior year, you can tell he was thinking about kissing you.

but that was when you were young and naive, inexperienced with life, and the thought of this nanami desiring you, of picturing you in his life, of imagining what you'd look like spread out underneath him like this --

you lift your head and grab his shirt collar, yanking him in for another kiss. when he's settled back against you, your hands weave down to unbutton his shirt. you feel him smile against your lips as he starts to unzip your dress in return.

you're a mess of limbs as items of clothing get strewn across your bedroom carpet. before long, it's all skin-on-skin, the heat of his body pressed against yours before he grabs your waist and flips you over until you're straddling him.

you feel the length of him pressed against your stomach, hot and painfully hard, but from the way he cups his hand against your neck and starts to kiss your throat, you know he's not going to rush this.

just as you gasp out his name as his teeth nip against your pulse point, he brings his other hand to the apex of your thighs, fingertips resting just over your pubic bone, barely brushing against the sensitive skin.

"want me to touch you?" he mumbles quietly against your throat, the way his breath fans over you making you shiver.

you nod pitifully, hips canting towards him, but he doesn't budge.

"need you to say it," he says low, quiet, thumb shifting down by the millimetre, "need to know how much you want it."

"i want it," you gasp, the arch of your back deepening the closer he gets to your aching core, all concerns about appearing desperate evaporating with every press of his lips to your skin. "i want it, kento, p- please touch me."

nanami obliges, fingertips trailing down until his thumb is brushing over your clit. he slides his hand lower, fingers slipping through your damp lips, and then uses your own wetness to start rubbing you in earnest.

any form of articulate thought slips from your mind, replaced with only those that can get you more of this -- nanami's fingers playing with your clit, the other hand possessively resting at your nape, his cock pressed between you with precum beading at the tip.

you want it in your mouth. you want it inside you, and as you go to shift your hips, nanami shifts his back.

"want to see what you look like when you come first," he says, slipping his middle and ring finger inside you as if to prove he's going about it the right way.

and he really is, because after only a few strokes of his fingers, your vision is getting hazy. you've never been this turned on so quickly before, never felt this desperate, all-consuming urge -- but then again, you've never had a man look at you like this before now either.

you try to focus on the sensation of his fingers stretching you open, his thumb still stroking your clit in the perfect rhythm, but your mind wanders to the thick cock pressed up against you. you want to rub against him, let him fill you up, make him feel good too --

but looking at his face now, pupils blown and lower lip raw from biting down on it, you can tell this is as much for him as it is for you.

less than a minute later it hits you, the explosion of warmth radiates out to every cell in your body, rendering you a boneless mess in nanami's arms.

he holds you as the aftershock subsides, strong arms keeping you steady even when your legs feel as though they've turned to jelly. when you feel capable of supporting yourself, you slide ungracefully from where you were perched on his thighs and fall back against your pillows, head spinning blissfully.

nanami leans down next to you and kisses your forehead, whispering words of praise that fill you with a strange sensation you can't quite place.

"want to take a break?" he ask after a few moments have passed, "or if you're tired, we can try again later --"

"no," you cut him off, turning your head to look at him directly, face splitting into a smile through the post-orgasm haze. "i just need a second is all, i still -- if you want to --"

"i do."

and so to ease yourself back into it, you kiss him slowly, intimately, bodies gently intertwining as he shifts closer to you on the bed. you guide his hands to your chest, gasping as his thumb circles a nipple.

"you're just ... beautiful in a way i don't really have words for," he mumbles, watching you squirm pleasurably under him.

"nanami kento lost for words? a first time for everything," you manage to quip through it all, earning a pinch of the other nipple that turns your laugh into a moan.

"we've plenty more firsts to get through tonight."

at that, nanami shifts halfway down the mattress and gets to his knees, hands gripping your thighs as he spreads them open. he takes his cock in his hand and slowly drags the head through your folds, up and down but not yet penetrating you, appreciating how you're almost sucking him in, the eager way you pull back your legs to accommodate him.

he stays like that for a minute. every time you think he's about to sink in, he holds himself back as if transfixed by the obscene sounds that come from playing with your pussy, of using you to stroke himself off.

he looks to be on the verge of a choice, like his brain is fighting between two options: taking you slow and gentle like you deserve, or sinking in and fucked into you desperately, filling you up until he knows he's bred you, that you're his and only his.

you soon glean that he wants you to actually say it out loud, wants to hear those words he's fantasised about for so long.

"fuck me, kento."

now utterly unable to hold off any longer, he heeds your request, lining up and thrusting inside you in one fluid motion.

it's a pleasant stretch; he's still careful to let you adjust to his size but you're soon relishing the feeling of being so full, and the fucked-out grin on your face spurs him on.

his hips shift back inch by inch until he's almost fully pulled out, letting out a low groan as he sinks back in again, and at that, he knows he's a goner, completely lost to the feeling of his entire length buried inside you.

this is nanami at his most possessive, fucking into you as you're caged in by his strong arms, your knees now pulled back as far as they'll go. the skin on the back of your thighs is raw from your nails digging into them but you don't care, single-minded in your aim to keep the head of his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you.

your shoulder blades press into your soft pillows as you try to keep from writhing too much, wanting with all of your might to avoid upsetting this perfect rhythm.

above you, nanami's perfect cheekbones are flushed, his brows knit tightly together, your silky walls wrapping tight around his cock in a way that's driving him to the brink sooner than he'd like. against all better judgment, he slows down just slightly, allowing himself to indulge in the sensation.

"you take my cock so well, y'know that?" he mumbles in between quiet grunts, "with that pretty look on your face when i fill you up... you're trying to kill me, i swear to god."

you both laugh breathlessly before yours breaks off in a moan, slurring his name as he speeds up subconsciously. he presses his lips to every inch of your neck, jaw, collarbone, thrusts unrelenting but never too much.

if you weren't already aware of how soaked you are, the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you provide more than enough proof, melding with the soft squeak of your bedsprings to just about cut through the muffled sound of your moans.

your body now guided more by instinct than intention, you slip your hand down to where your hips are pressed together, two fingers circling the swollen bud of your clit. the angle of his ruts means his cock grazes your fingertips as he pulls out, the desperate rubbing of your hand between your legs spurring him on.

"still want me to come inside you?" he says then, strands of hair coming loose, sticking to his forehead, "want me to fill you up?"

you nod feebly -- the answer clearly not sufficient in itself, since he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours as he meets you for a wet, messy kiss. continuing his question with his lips still touching yours, he asks;

"want me to take care of you? want to be my pretty wife, hm, wanna -- fuck -- wanna be mine, yeah?"

you slur something unintelligible, focusing on the second orgasm gathering quick and hot in your core. you lose your grip on your thighs and fumble to pull your legs back up.

nanami helps to hike your legs back up -- but not in their original position. instead, he guides them until your ankles rest on his shoulders, and after taking just a second to press a kiss to your calf, he sinks back to the hilt. feeling him bottom out, your vision nearly goes white; this new angle allows him to slide in so deep it's practically splitting you open, so deep you can tell he's serious about breeding you.

somehow, the sensation remains just shy of too much -- it's not too much of a stretch or causing too much sensitivity -- it's more than you've ever taken but you honestly feel you could stay like this forever, taking nanami's cock like you were made for it, with him looking down at you with a mixture of reverence and pure lust.

you want him like this for the rest of your life.

"i'm gonna need you to answer, cos I'm pretty close," he half-pleads as if reading your mind, his voice deep and strained, firm chest heaving as the thrusts get messier and less coordinated.

though your mind is near-blank and your lungs feel they can't get enough air, you manage to mumble a "fuck, yes. want -- want you to come inside, kento ... please."

that last word tips him over with you following almost immediately after, clenching around his cock as you feel him pulsing inside you, feeling more full than you've ever felt in your life. his head tips back as he cums, moaning beautiful praise you can just about make out, strands of sentences about you being the only one he wants taking his come, about how he's going to keep fucking you full for as long as it takes.

sparks of electricity reverberate through your body, hips pushing against his as you ride out your orgasm, pretty little whimpers harmonising with nanami's continued praise.

you stay like that for what seems like forever, basking in the wave of pleasure that's just swept you away effortlessly.

everything is just ... warm. purely and blissfully warm. the warmth of his hands still gripping your legs, the warmth of your own breath fanning over your sweaty chest, the warmth between your legs that starts to dribble down the backs of your thighs when nanami pulls out.

for good measure, nanami uses two fingers to push some of his come back inside, grinning as aftershocks pulse around the digits.

you lower your tired legs to rest on the mattress, thighs aching from being bent practically in half, but it's easy to disregard any physical exhaustion when you feel this level of contentment.

nanami's arms are soon wrapped around you, pulling you to rest on top of his chest where you spend some moments of perfect silence.

you can hear his heart beating in his chest, skipping a beat when you angle your head up to meet his gaze again.

"well?" you ask, a smile imbued in your words. "still lost for words?"

"just thinking about how every second of this was worth waiting for," he replies without missing a beat, eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches how his answer flusters you.

with one hand behind his head as he rests of the pillow and the other wrapped around your shoulders, nanami looks more relaxed than you've maybe ever seen him.

this is a man who looked on the verge of a nervous breakdown when you reconnected less than a year ago; he's almost unrecognisable now, the dark circles under his eyes have faded, his face filling out a bit more, the smile on his face entirely genuine.

and in this moment you feel a burst of clarity, a sudden realisation that's eluded you since that first night you met in college.

maybe -- just maybe -- you're as good an influence on him as he is on you.

#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #may tries to write #oh lord #im not even going to tell you how long i spent drafting this bad boy #please join me in the brainrot please

[capricornlevi]

nsfw / mdni

fwb!choso who is in an awkward, difficult situation -- he knows he can't look at you for too long during sex, but he is also acutely aware of how much that might offend you.

it's not that he doesn't want to look at you. he'd crawl over hot coals for the chance to keep his eyes fixed on you the entire time he's buried inside you, to get to see your back arch off the mattress, to watch your pretty face all torn with pleasure.

but the big issue, the one major setback to all of the above, is that the moment he opens his eyes, the second he sees how you look spread out underneath him, he ends up coming almost immediately.

and it's usually way too early for his liking.

he can't help it -- and he's tried. he's tried edging to the pictures you send him in new lingerie or after you get out of the shower, keeping himself right at the precipice of release until he's sure his desires are now on a tighter leash, that he can delay his gratification for both your sakes.

but it never works. he'll sink inside and his eyes flutter shut, listening to your beautiful moans and feeling how you writhe underneath him, but the moment he tries to chance a look, to glance down at the sight of his cock splitting you open, it's game over.

as tricky a situation as this is, he still has a few options available. he could tell you all of this, which, although honest, is a bit too vulnerable for what is still a casual relationship.

he could keep his eyes closed, which delays things for the necessary time but will likely end with you getting freaked out or hurt, which is the exact opposite of his intention.

or he could let himself open his eyes, take in whatever he can before coming deep inside you, and then finish you off with his tongue for as long as you'll take him.

and when put like that, the choice doesn't seem so hard after all.

#choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x you #i have no witty commentary bar that i love this man want him soooo bad and it renders me insane #may

[capricornlevi]

it's all chappell roan all day btw. 24/7

#H O T T O G O! #soundtrack to my fic writing the past week #thank u chappell roan for my life

[capricornlevi]

"Convince me to quit my job."

You laugh at the request, having heard it enough times to know he the angle he's going for.

"Kento, no."

A weary sigh from the other end of the phone line. "You didn't even try."

"Because without your job you'd be broke as well as exhausted. And it's just for another year or two, til that partner retires and you can actually start doing what you trained to do --"

You're cut off by a faint groan. "Have you always been this sensible?"

"We'll call it your influence," you reply with a grin, balancing your phone between your ear and shoulder as you make yourself another coffee. "Is it that bad?"

Kento's on day five of a week-long conference out of town; the longest you two have been apart since getting together. You can foresee his answer since he's never tried to hide his misery, but feel it appropriate to ask anyway.

"Awful. Full of boring workshops delivered by boring people in a boring conference centre." A pause. "I'd much rather be home with you."

Stirring the coffee carefully, trying to keep it from spilling onto the kitchen counter, you chuckle softly. "I know."

Another pause.

"What if I told you I'd be home a bit more from now on?"

It's your turn to hesitate, not wanting to jump to conclusions.

"Wait!" you exclaim, and the fact that he actually does wait lets you know everything you were about to ask.

"You got it?" you go to confirm, though it sounds more like a statement than a question, your voice pitching up at the end of the sentence.

"Partner took early retirement," he says, and you can hear his smile from the other end of the line. "Means I can work from home every other week. I just wanted to see your thoughts on my job before I took it, y'know, in case you did have any compelling arguments on quitting."

"I have compelling thoughts on my husband being made partner before he turns thirty, if you want to hear those?"

He laughs, warm and adoring. "Oh, very much so."

#nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x you #and then he wins the lottery and quits anyway because that man is meant to be a househusband #born to be an emo househusband forced to be a cog in the corporate machine

[capricornlevi]

THIGHS

[capricornlevi]

nsfw / mdni

you and academic rival!higuruma entering into an unspoken agreement to stay out of one another's way except when you need some ... stress relief. and now, in the final semester of your undergrad, you find this to be sorely needed.

you're no fan of his outside of this arrangement, engaging in enough heated arguments in class to have your professors sit you at opposite sides of the lecture hall, but the one benefit to your shared ambitiousness is that you're always the final two people left in the library.

and it takes just a nod on your end from across the empty rows of desks to have him standing up, straight-faced, walking casually to the abandoned storage closet behind the computer lab.

after a minute or two to dispel any suspicion from a security guard browsing the aisles, you follow him slowly, carefully, ensuring there's no urgency in your steps.

that self-control dissipates the minute the closet door is shut behind you. before you can even make a biting comment as to his most recent assignment ranking second in class to your first, he has you up against the wall, nipping and kissing at your pulsepoint until it's sensitive, as if in anticipation of what you were about to say.

and later, up against the wall, with his hand then clamped over your mouth as he thrusts in you, slowly, perfectly, wringing pitiful mewls from you that he tries to suppress for your own sake, you realise it's maybe not the worst thing to let him have the last word on just this occasion.

#higurumi x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #academic rivals trope u will be the death of me #higuruma hiromi you will also coincidentally be the death of me

[capricornlevi]

have i mentioned to u all that i really wanna fuck moblit

#no? #well now i have

[capricornlevi]

three years of me being that weirdly aloof aunt who comes to you all with my problems but is lowkey chill at the same time x

#3 year tumblrversary #in all seriousness ily guys thank u for putting up with me! #i appreciate each and every one of you so much

[capricornlevi]

nanami who isn't too favourable to the idea of pda but is OBSESSED with his wedding ring, hates taking it off even when cooking or washing, and after a job always makes sure to clean off the thin golden band before anything else, slipping it onto his ring finger before changing out of blood-soaked clothes.

nanami who favours his other hand when fighting so as to avoid risking any unnecessary nicks or damage to the ring, whose lips curl into a proud smile whenever he sees the metal catch the light.

nanami who absent-mindedly traces his thumb around your matching band when holding hands, who likes knowing you can feel it when his hand rests at the nape of your neck, as silently possessive as it is adoring.

he would sooner die than part with that ring, he whispers into the crook of your neck as you lay in bed late at night, and you have absolutely no doubts that he is a man of his word.

#nanami x reader #may tries to write #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #tee hee

[capricornlevi]

hozier's 'too sweet' is unfortunately SUCH a kishibe song

#want to fuck that old man

[capricornlevi]

bokuto x reader // sfw, gratuitous fluff, established relationship // wc 1.6k

planning birthdays is just one of bo's many talents <3

an: this is a little birthday present for my favourite bo stan in the entire world @brainrot329 ! she is a ray of sunshine and one of the best people i know and it is an honour to write a bo fic dedicated to this wonderful human !!!

you had never figured bokuto for much of a chef. you've been together for four years, lived together for two, and so you feel you know him pretty well by now -- the man has multitudes of talents, but preparing food is not one of them.

he has no trouble with eating, obviously, since pretty much every team barbeque ends with him being physically dragged away by a teammate or long-suffering coach, begging for someone else to be allowed their pick of the steaks.

but his appreciation for food does not extend to cooking or baking, shopping for ingredients or meal planning. his lack of culinary proficiency is not from any form of uselessness or incompetence -- he's good at pretty much anything he turns his hand to, plus the msby nutrition team supplies most of his meals anyway -- he just doesn't have much of an interest. which is more than fair; nobody can be expected to be good at everything.

but this is also why you find it to be very shocking that today, your birthday, he has offered to prepare you a four-course meal to mark the special occasion.

he had informed you of his plan this morning over pancakes at your favourite diner while you were mid-sip of coffee. as you smiled and expressed gratitude, you had to put in a copious amount of effort to prevent your jaw from dropping open and accidentally spitting coffee everywhere.

again, it's not that he's incapable of achieving this task. he’d likely be very capable should he puts his mind to it, but it's just ... this is his first time cooking. you don't attempt the tour de france before learning how to ride a bike, and you can't imagine that a four-course meal (with accompanying wines, he informs you) is the easiest introduction to the culinary arts.

but he seems certain, and the last thing you want to do is discourage this newfound enthusiasm.

the rest of the day was spent out with friends and family as bo headed home to get everything ready. he didn't give many hints as to what the rest of the evening would entail, but he did say that he knew you'd love it.

(and you will; regardless of the final product, you can see how much effort he's put in. you just hope you won't arrive home to the scent of singed hair and an eyebrow-less bokuto standing forlorn in the kitchen.)

when your college friends took you out for cocktails in the early hours of the evening, you stuck to just two margaritas so as not to take away from the rest of the night. they dropped you back home with gifts in hand and plans to meet up again next week to get your nails done – a strange suggestion since you haven’t gone to the salon as a group in years, but you wave it off. 

now, standing at your doorstep, you take a deep breath before twisting the handle and letting yourself in.

the place smells ... nice. really nice. it's a medley of scents from multiple dishes but they all come together to paint a very positive picture; hints of citrus, the buttery aroma of your favourite pasta sauce, something sweet you vaguely recognise as being your grandmother's french vanilla cake recipe.

suddenly overcome with a sense of awe and burning anticipation, you make a beeline for the kitchen.

you find everything in it to be clean, perfectly presented, except for bokuto himself. he stands by the countertop, spatula in hand, covered with a light dusting of flour and with a scorch mark on his light-blue shirt.

"never promised it'd go completely without a hitch, did i?" he grins, expression as close to bashful as you've seen it. setting down the utensils and dusting himself off with a kitchen towel, he closes the distance to take your hand, guiding you to your seat at the table. with a professional flourish he pours you a glass of sparkling wine, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head once you've sat down.

"you enjoy that while i go change," he mumbles against your hair, "and i’ll also make sure I'm not still smouldering."

you laugh as he walks away, heart swelling in your chest as you survey the space around you.

he's bought a bouquet of your favourite flowers from that little old florist who lives three doors down from your apartment, the one whose displays you always admire when you head out to work in the mornings. he has your favourite album playing on vinyl, the low reverberations of the music filling the candle-lit kitchen.

distantly, you wonder if bo's fire incident came from the cooking or the decoration.

but before you have much time to consider, he's arrived back in the kitchen with a fresh shirt and almost-tamed hair, paired with that signature bo smile that lights up all of his features.

"ready for course number one?" he exclaims, clapping his hands together as he heads over to the counter space. once you voice your assent he produces two dishes as if from nowhere, heading over to the table and setting yours down in front of you.

you find yourself looking down at a perfectly presented salad, crisp leaves and a citrus dressing that reminds you exactly of the one you had --

"on our first date!" you burst out before even taking a bite. "this is the salad from that bistro by college!"

the bistro where he had taken you after finally mustering up the courage to ask, waiting until after you both had graduated to make his move. you're still not sure why he was so anxious since your class had no qualms about intra-departmental fraternisation, but you're just glad he went for it eventually.

he nods, clearly relieved you picked up on the connection.

the salad is wonderful, a light and refreshing starter for the evening, and you inform him as much.

your response clearly encourages him. he gets up again to start heating the next dish, pouring you a glass of wine beforehand for you to nurse while he gets things ready.

this time, he presents you with a bowl of soup. the same type of soup ...

"that you made for me that time i got the flu!" he informs you this time, voice achingly fond as he watches for your reaction. "and no word of a lie -- it cured me."

his earnestness draws another laugh from you, the soothing smell of herbs and vegetables bringing you back to that afternoon.

you had never seen bo so sick before and you haven't seen it since. with the combination of his healthy approach to life and sheer stubbornness to remain top of his game, he ends up avoiding most illnesses, and so when he called his coach to inform him he wouldn't be making 8am practice, you knew things were serious.

he ran a temperature, cheeks flushing an adorable shade of pink that you would have appreciated more were he not suffering, and had started shivering by noon.

"you need to keep your strength up," you had whispered softly to him, setting a glass of water down at his bedside and perching yourself on the edge, watching as he slowly started eating the soup. it was difficult with a sore throat but he managed to polish the whole thing off.

that soup was the only thing he could stomach for forty-eight hours, eating it for every meal until his shivering subsided and his muscles stopped aching.

it's one of the few dishes he knew how to prepare before tonight, since he insists on making it with you whenever either one of you starts to show any signs of impending sniffles.

once the soup has been finished and cleared away, the third course is presented with another glass of wine and near-giddy smile from bo. just as you had guessed from the hallway, he serves up your favourite pasta dish, the recipe having been scribbled down on a napkin after the chef from the aforementioned first-date bistro was kind enough to let you have it. 

bo managed to replicate it perfectly, albeit not without slightly singeing the accompanying garlic bread (explaining the scorch mark on his shirt).

as you take your first bite, you realise that he was right earlier when he promised that you'd love this.

it wasn't that the food was michelin quality (though it was undoubtedly delicious, especially for a first-timer) -- it was the thought that went into every dish, every ingredient, every element. the effort that went into telling a story with each course.

you've never felt as loved as you do in this moment.

that is, until he brings out dessert in the form of your grandmother's french vanilla cake. it’s been frosted to the best of bokuto's ability, with 'happy birthday my love!' edged in pink font and surrounded by flickering candles.

there's also a design under the words. a little shape, something you can't see without squinting.

he carries it over to you proudly, though with a slight tremble in his hands you can't quite understand ...

after blowing out the candles, you lean in to examine the cake closer.

it takes a few seconds for it to land, to determine what bo attempted to draw in icing format, but once it hits you ...

"is that a ring?"

your heart pounds in your chest, each word leaving your lips in a flurry as you try to gauge whether or not your exhilaration is merited.

and in lieu of an answer, bo sets the cake on the table before getting down on one knee, producing a velvet-bound ring box from the pocket of his new shirt.

#bokuto x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto kotaro x reader #timeskip bokuto x reader #bokuto x you #fluff #may tries to write

[capricornlevi]

nsfw/mdni

your roommate higuruma, who works such late hours you barely see him, who arrives home in the dead of night overworked and fraught with an irritated tension.

your roommate higuruma, who envies your social life, the nights out in bars and clubs, and envies the people you bring home with you even more, cursing them under his breath as he hears them moan your name through your shared walls.

your roommate higuruma, who will never forget that night during the holidays when, bored and stir-crazy, you had insisted he hang out with you in the living room over a high-brow dinner of pizza and box wine. how you had put on a movie you knew would be universally liked, how you edged closer and closer on the couch, how you had nestled against his shoulder without him even noticing or either one of you addressing.

your roommate higuruma, who replays the rest of the events that night in his head every single night. how you had been the one to kiss him, how you guided his hand to where you needed his touch, how you gave him head that has ruined him for every other partner he could conceivably ever have. how he fucked you on the couch until your cries of his name bounced off the walls, how you left light pink scratches on his back he hoped would stay longer than they did, and how the sound of you tipping over the edge because of the work of his tongue is now burned into his brain forever and ever.

every time he comes into the kitchen after a late day at the office, he hopes to see you there, and every time you aren't, he feels a familiar sense of disappointment twist in his gut.

and now, he's finally realising that maybe he'll have to swallow his pride and his awkwardness once and for all -- he'll have to knock on your door and ask you outright. and maybe tonight, he's reached that tipping point.

#higuruma x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma x gn reader #may tries to write

[capricornlevi]

"i'm telling you, it was his first word!"

you roll your eyes without any malice, sitting back in the couch with your arms folded. you meet erwin's gaze again, convinced that you're right in assuming he's trying to soften the blow of missing your child's first words.

"i know you're trying to be sweet, 'win, but i know it wasn't. and that's okay! there'll be other words! words that i won't be at work for."

with your son tucked carefully in his arms, the baby sound asleep and blissfully unaware of the ramifications of whatever syllables he'd gurgled an hour or so before, your husband smiles down at you with the sort of adoration you never thought you'd receive.

"it was. i heard it. ma-ma, clear as day," he claims, assured and unyielding.

you laugh, just quiet enough to not wake the baby from his slumber. "he's been throwing "da" at me all week, 'win. he's not pulling ma-ma out of nowhere."

"want me to wake him?" erwin offers confidently. "because I'm not above doing that."

you raise your eyebrows. "so you'll be up until three a.m. when he can't sleep?"

"gladly," he responds as if he means it, "if it will convince you."

you stand up, beaming as you wrap your hand around erwin's waist, peering in to see the smooshed-up face of the little infant resting against his chest.

"i'll just have to call in sick tomorrow," you suggest in a whisper, "and we can spend the morning settling this once and for all."

#erwin x reader #erwin smith x reader #erwin x you #erwin smith x you #may tries to write

[capricornlevi]

i have a crazy Nanami fic cooking atm that people will either like or hate i fear

#nothing bad!!!! #nothing too extreme or anything like that!!! #just a trope that can be divisive lol #and tbh one i dont usually go for myself??? #but it came to me in a dream so alas i had no choice in the matter

[capricornlevi]

nsfw / mdni

"you have ... you have really pretty eyes."

the compliment spills from choso's lips as though they slipped past any mental filter, making him blush as you let out an airy laugh.

it's not that it's not a nice compliment to receive. it's just bizarre timing, considering you've just lowered yourself down onto his cock for the first time.

"t-thank you," you reply with a lilt of amusement to your voice, hands planted firmly on his chest for balance as you adjust to the size of him. "that's really - really nice."

"is that wrong to -" he begins, cutting himself off with a gasp as you slowly start to rock against him. after ten or so seconds, his chest rising and falling unsteadily, he attempts to finish his sentence again. "is that wrong to say?"

you shake your head, eyes meeting his so he sees the fondness in them.

"not wrong. just cute," you say truthfully, lifting one hand to cup his jaw as you fall into a rhythm. he dips his head to meet your touch, soft strands of hair falling from their ties to rest against his forehead. he moans, low and desperate, as if literally melting under your touch. "you're -- you're sweet, y'know? it's what i - i like about you."

he shudders as you sink down on him again, every limb tensing with pleasure -- from the sensation or the returned compliment, you're unsure. maybe both?

luckily for him, you can give as good as you take.

#choso x reader #choso x gn!reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x you #may tries to write #ily choso my beloved my loml my most adored

[capricornlevi]

snapshot

toji x reader / nsfw, minors dni / casual relationship, masturbation, nudes in the form of polaroids / slightly possessive!toji - wc 1k

toji kicks closed the door of his dingy hotel room, waiting to hear the lock click shut before throwing himself down onto the unmade bed with a low, disgruntled sigh.

he is well and truly sick of this place.

he's not too enthusiastic about taking a job in the best of circumstances, much less ... this. he hates travelling far for work, preferring to spend his nights in a bed warmed by you, but the surveillance necessary for this job means he has to pull some overnight shifts. he was left with little choice in the matter but to pack his bags and find the only place in town that wasn't too stringent on checking ID. ten days he's spent here without even the chance to get a shot in on his target, much less finish the job; the financiers are getting impatient, and soon, he won't even be able to afford another night in this dump.

though come to think of it, the thought of packing it all in doesn't seem too terrible. he got paid half upfront, and he's managed to retain about a fifth of that -- he needed a new phone, as well as a new charger for it, plus this place is around the corner from the dog track so it would be rude not to place a bet or two -- and wants to treat you to something nice. flowers, maybe, some shit like that. that expensive perfume that smells of cherries.

he's not a romantic man, nor a sentimental one, but he's missed you more than he expected. you're not committed to one another per see, haven't had any conversations about labels or the future or anything else that makes him antsy. but he likes you, likes the jokes you make and the lilt of your laugh, and he's more than happy to spend every weekend at your place. he's even asked you over to his once or twice.

he's fallen into something of a routine, really. he's even lost interest in sleeping with anyone else, finding that his mind always wanders to you, anyway, so there's no point pretending otherwise. other people just don't really do it for him anymore. it was irritating at first, an inconvenience, but there's a certain novelty that comes with this hint of domesticity. he could get used to it.

he likes that you're at home now, waiting for him. maybe slipping a hand between your legs if you end up missing him that much. using one of the toys he got you with the paycheck from his last job.

the thought makes his cock twitch, heat gathering low in his stomach, and he wastes no time leaning over to open the drawer of his bedside table where he keeps the polaroid you gave him before he left.

you'd laughed while handing it over, playing it off as a joke to hide your embarrassment, but he didn't take much notice of that. once he saw the picture you'd taken for him, with you gorgeous, naked, and posed in his favourite position, he knew he wouldn't be able to think of much else for the time he spent away. the thought of it sitting in that nightstand drawer is what motivates him to slog through the long days and nights.

even with how tiny the photograph is -- he can fit the polaroid in the palm of his hand, after all -- he can see every curve, every inch of skin he's aching to put his mouth on.

shoving a hand gracelessly past the waistband of his joggers, he starts to palm himself at the memory of when he last saw you like this.

it was the night before he left, and you wanted to make it special; candles, wine, fancy dinner, the whole lot. he managed about half his plate and three sips of the drink before growing impatient, taking you by the hand and half-guiding, half-carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom.

next time he gets to see you spread out underneath him, pretty lips pressed into a soft little 'o' as he sinks in slowly, fighting the urge to start thrusting while you're still getting used to the size of him ... it'll be enough for him to reconsider taking a job this long again. it's like an itch he can't scratch, a compulsion he didn't know he was capable of forming, and as he strokes himself, quick and desperate, he nearly spills into his hand at the thought of your hips bucking against his, the arch of your spine when you come undone for him.

he hasn't gone this long without sex in years. a past version of himself would just head out to a bar, find someone with a mutual attraction and the funds to call a cab, and then he'd bring them back here -- the whole thing would take him less than an hour. he'd get what he needed without the faintest shadow of a commitment.

but he knows better now, knows that it wouldn't even take the edge off this hunger. as if giving in to that thought, he refocuses on the polaroid, pupils dilating as he approaches his edge.

with a bitten-off moan he lets the pleasure ripple throughout his strong body, shoulders digging into the mattress as he chews his lip almost to the point of drawing blood. the look on your face is what tips him over; that soft smile, the glint in your eye visible even through the photograph.

he lets the polaroid slip from his hand to fall against his chest, rising and falling as he tries to steady his breath.

he sighs again, but this one isn't from boredom or exhaustion. it's not from frustration at another botched job, or from the buzz of his alarm waking him for another night shift.

no. this time he sighs because, against his better judgment, he's allowed himself to get this way, putting up no fight along the way.

he knows now more than ever that he's well and truly fucked.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji x you #toji nsfw #may tries to write

[capricornlevi]

my presence on tumblr is so funny i kinda come and go as i please every couple of days. like an outdoor cat. except instead of leaving a mouse at ur doorstep i leave a fan fiction about a ravishing man

#i am one of those neighbourhood cats who begs everyone for food even though ive been fed three times already today